Getting Lucky (The Marilyns) (9 page)

“Don’t cuss, it makes you sound trashy.” Lucky double-handed the socket and put her back into it, but the bolt didn’t budge. “Motherfucker!”

“What happened to cussing makes you sound trashy?” Viviane turned her serious brown eyes on Lucky.

“I am trashy.” Lucky used her body weight as torque, and finally the bolt moved a tiny bit. “Yes.”

“Where do you want me to start?” Viviane waited, eager to please.

“I don’t know. Where do you do think you should start?” Lucky wanted to see if she knew as much about cars as it seemed.

“I’m ignoring the replace comment, so if I’m overhauling, I’d start with the Tri-Y headers and work my way down.” Viviane nodded to herself. “Then move on to the intake manifold.”

That’s exactly what Lucky would have done. “What are you standing around for? Get to work.” She nodded to the tools on the workbench. “You take it, you put it back.”

“Deal.” Viviane shuffled from foot to foot again. “Um, well…”

“Spit it out.” Lucky couldn’t believe that Ricky had produced these wonderful girls.

“Well … okay. It’s just … I didn’t expect to like you.” Her voice went up at the end of the sentence.

“Was that a question or a statement?” Lucky made her voice go up too.

Viviane laughed, part nerves and part mirth. “You’re different than my mom. She yelled and cried a lot. If the Shelby didn’t make you mad or tear up, then I figure, we’re good.”

It was as sound logic as Lucky had ever heard. “Okay.”

“Dawnie said something about calling you Wow.” She shifted some more. “Can I call you Wow too?”

Lucky continued to be amazed by the overwhelming love a child could engender. “I would love that.”

They worked in silence for the better part of the morning.

Lucky was learning that each girl had a different and distinct personality. Logically, she knew it, but seeing it firsthand was another matter. The girls wanted to need her, and she wanted to need them. The awkwardness that should have been between them didn’t exist.

What kind of mother had
she
been?

The girls were so honestly mystified by any kindness that it broke Lucky’s heart. Little girls should expect kindness and love instead of being suspicious of it.

It was day three and counting. She was already a Wow to two of them. Would day four bring a third Wow? Based on Mandy’s general teenager hatefulness, Wow-dom was miles away.

***

Two hours later, Will walked into the garage and saw two sets of feet hanging out from under a dirty, rusted-out car.

Lucky put one tool down and picked up another. “Why do you think they used the 715-cfm Holley carburetor? I don’t get it.”

“I know. It’s way too small for a 300-horsepower engine. Dumb.”

“You said it, kiddo. Dumb.” Lucky clanked some more tools and then picked up a new one.

He’d known they’d get along … two peas in a pod. So far, Lucky had saved one little girl’s life and won adoration from another. If she could bring Amanda around, it would be the third miracle. He didn’t hold out much hope. Mandy was sixteen and snotty. He loved her, but some days she made it harder than others.

He fisted his hand to knock on the hood and announce his presence.

“My mom died. Did you know that?”

Will stepped back. Not that he meant to eavesdrop, but since he didn’t understand women, it was the best way to find out what they were thinking.

“I heard something about that.” Lucky’s voice was neutral. “How does that make you feel?”

This was one of the reasons he needed Lucky. She would get the girls to talk about their feelings without coddling them.

“I don’t know. It’s weird.” Vivi sniffled, and he knew she was crying in her own silent way. “She’s dead … just like my father. I don’t have anyone.”

“That’s not true. You have your sisters and your uncle … and me. I’m your Wow, and you can’t take that back.” Lucky put down one tool and picked up another. “My mom died when I was ten. It sucks. I’m not going to lie. It hurts, and you never get over it. But you get through it and learn to live with it.”

Only her mom had committed suicide, leaving Lucky alone to deal with her asshole of a father.

“Life has dealt you a crappy hand. I’m sorry.” Lucky banged a tool against something. “What can I do?”

“Ever heard of a bucket list?” Vivi sniffled some more.

Lucky stopped the banging. “Yes.”

“My sisters and I made one for my mom, but she died before we could ask her to do any of the things on the list.”

Lucky started banging again. “That’s too bad.”

“I have it here.” Vivi put down the tool she was using, shuffled around, and then paper rattled.

“Okay.” Lucky slowed the banging.

“Number one, a Barbie tea party … that’s for Dawnie.”

“I figured.” Lucky mumbled.

“A picnic, to ride the Zilker train and see the Christmas lights, a snowball fight, a movie night with popcorn, to make cookies, play board games, help us with our homework, eat lunch with Mommy at school, go to the movies, have Mommy pick us up from school on time, have Mommy go to our school plays, take us out to dinner when we make the honor roll, sign me up for Girl Scouts, have a real birthday party with cake and everything, be silly, hold our hands, play with us.”

Will shook his head. Good God, these were everyday things … things these girls should have been getting from birth. He’d suspected there was neglect, but he hadn’t realized how much.

He’d known the girls were writing a bucket list, but he had expected trips to Disney World or Hawaii or Paris—at least a mega shopping spree—but all of these things were normal daily activities.

“So you never did any of these with your mom?” Lucky sounded skeptical.

“No. Mommy was sick for a long time, and we never really had any money.” Vivi put down the list and picked up something that might have been a wrench.

“What do you mean there was no money? Your father must have provided for you?” Lucky’s voice cracked on the your father bit, but she trudged on.

“He gave us money, but my mom used most of it on what she called ‘upkeep’—you know, hair and makeup and spa treatments.” Vivi was so offhand that sadness and guilt reached out and grabbed him.

He’d known Rosie was narcissistic and spoiled, but he hadn’t known that his nieces had suffered for it. He should have paid more attention and taken better care of them instead of worrying so much about how bad Lucky would take finding out about them.

“We can start on the list today. Clearly all of that school stuff will have to wait until Monday, but for today, we can start on whatever you’d like. I need to check and see if the Zilker train is open on Saturday, but we could do that today, if you’d like.” Excitement edged into her tone.

Lucky had never had those kid-mom things that made up a normal childhood. He grinned. She already had opened her heart to the girls and wanted to spend time with them. It was more than he could have hoped for.

“Why don’t you ask your sisters which thing they’d like to do first?” Lucky put down one tool and reached for another.

“Well, um, here’s the thing. Dawnie and I are good, but Mandy and I aren’t speaking on account of some red nail polish that got accidentally spilt on her leather jacket.”

“Yikes on the nail polish. Do I want to know how that happened?”

“Nope.” Vivi picked up another tool. “Maybe you could talk to Mandy? Square it away with her?”

“Only if you promise to keep the nail polish away from my clothes.”

“Okay.” Vivi yawned. “You know, you’re not half bad. My mom used to call you ‘that mother fuck—’”

“I believe we covered cussing, or do you have issues with short-term memory?” Lucky yawned back.

“It’s okay if you’re repeating someone else.”

“No, it’s not.” Lucky clanked her tool against something metal. “What else did your mom say about me?”

“That you hate us.” Vivi set her tool down. “Do you hate me?”

“Do you think I’d let someone I hate work on my prized Shelby?” Lucky put her tool down. “Now if you don’t stop stripping that bolt, I might get a little upset, but I don’t hate you.”

“Good, I don’t hate you either.”

“I feel all warm and fuzzy inside.” Lucky said. Will could all but hear her roll her eyes.

Will rapped on the trunk. “So this is where my favorite ladies have been hiding.”

In unison, they rolled out on matching carts.

It was stupid that it made him so happy that his two most favorite people liked each other, but he was happy all the same. The impulse to offer his hand to help Lucky up and then pull her into his arms was strong, but he’d researched impulse control on the Internet last night. Counting to three instead of acting on the impulse was supposed to work. He took a deep breath. One, two, three…. He told himself that it was working.

“Here.” He handed them each a piece of paper. “This is the agenda for the family meeting tonight. It’s at seven sharp. Don’t be late.”

“You have a typed agenda for a family meeting?” Lucky shook her head. “Figures.”

“You have no idea.” Vivi copied Lucky’s tone. “Have you seen his sock drawer? There’s this weird grid thing. Each pair of socks has its own compartment. It’s freaky.”

“I stay out of people’s sock drawers. They’re worse than closets when it comes to skeletons.” Lucky winked at him. A black smudge ran across her cheek. More than anything, he wanted to lean down and wipe it away, but after the disastrous comment about him having a thing for her, he wasn’t sure what was allowed. Lucky wasn’t ready to move on, and he was having a hard time settling for being her brother-in-law. Plus, Vivi was very astute. Even if Lucky didn’t see the way he felt about her, Viviane would. “Family meeting, seven o’clock—right after dinner in the living room.” He shot Lucky a smile.

She nodded. “I’ll be there.”

Two hours later, Lucky pushed out from under the Shelby, rolled off the cart, stood, and stretched the kinks out of her back. “Let’s take a lunch break and see what we can come up with in the way of a picnic.”

She still couldn’t get over the bucket list. The sad picture of three neglected girls was becoming more vivid. If all they wanted was attention from their mother, then she must not have given much in the first place. The outrageous need to hold and coddle these girls was almost overwhelming. Instead, she picked up a shop rag from the table that held her tools, wiped her hands, and glanced back at the pencil-thin legs sticking out from under the Shelby. “Are you coming?”

“Nah, in a little while. I need to finish this first.” Vivi’s voice was the don’t-bother-me-I’m-in-the-zone that Lucky knew she used when she was into something.

Lucky turned back, not sure if leaving Vivi alone was a good idea. She could get hurt. She took a step toward the child and then stopped. At Vivi’s age, Lucky had been staying home alone and could rebuild an engine practically blindfolded. But Vivi wasn’t Lucky. She took another step toward Vivi. It was overprotective, but she couldn’t help it. “Are you okay in here alone?”

“Yep, worked on the Shelby all alone before. Uncle Will doesn’t know a hubcap from a distributor cap.”

“Truer words were never spoken.” Lucky nodded.

“I’m good, don’t worry.” Vivi sounded so sure.

Lucky bit her top lip and glanced at the door. “I’m going to prop the door open. If you need anything, just yell.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t take too long, and don’t worry about cleanup. We can do it later.” Lucky opened the heavy door, grabbed a good-sized rock next to it, and propped the door open. She shaded her eyes from the October sunlight as she stepped outside.

A rhythmic
thump, thump, thump
from the driveway caught her attention. A mile-long 1975 pink Cadillac Eldorado convertible bounced down the driveway pulling a silver airstream RV.

Wonderful. Mama Cherie was here. This must have been the “care package” Charlie had told her about the other day. Just once, couldn’t she and Betts have sent her some cookies or a Hallmark card? But no, Betts had sent her mother to monitor and referee Lucky’s living situation.

Since Mama had bothered to pull her camper all the way from New Orleans, it meant she was staying a while. Crap. Not only would she have opinions on Lucky living with Ricky’s kids, but in short order, she’d figure out that Lucky had been pretending that everything was good. She’d know that Lucky had been living a lie. Mama could ferret out information that most trained interrogators couldn’t glean.

The Caddy, top-down and complete with longhorns on the front grill, pulled into the circle drive.

Lucky sauntered over to meet her.

Slowly, Mama opened the driver’s-side door, untied the scarf over her hair, dropped it in the passenger’s seat, patted her French twist, and stepped one hot-pink rhinestoned hooker heel out onto the crushed granite. The other foot followed. The hot-pink-sequined bustier and silver-sequin-bedazzled ultra-tight skinny jeans shrink-wrapped over Mama’s body just about blinded Lucky. As she walked toward the woman, she pulled her sunglasses down off the top of her head and placed them over her eyes, protecting her retinas.

“Mama Cherie, this is a surprise.” Lucky hugged the older woman.

“Why? Charlie called and said you needed me.” Mama hugged her with gusto. In fact, Mama did everything with gusto. She stepped back, leaned over the side of the car, and came up with a cinnamon-colored golden retriever puppy. “This is Roxy—my muse.”

Poor Roxy had on a miniature version of her owner’s outfit. The puppy shot Lucky a look that said, “I know I look ridiculous, please help me.”

Mama adjusted Roxy’s bustier, as it had fallen down around her hind legs, and kissed the top of her sweet puppy head. “I’m designing a line of dog clothing to go with my line of women’s clothes. Now, you and your pet can be twins. I’m calling it K-Naughty.”

“I’m sure it’ll be a hit.” Lucky scratched the dog behind the ears.

“We have lots to talk about. I’m going to set up my RV over there.” Mama pointed to a grassy area by the pool house.

“So you’re staying.” Lucky shoved her hands in her back pockets. Mama hadn’t been the best of mothers while Betts was growing up, so she was making up for it now.