The-Lucky-List-Rachael-Lippincott

HEATHER AND TIM 4EVER. “This is so cool.”
“It gets cooler,” Blake says, walking over to the corner and tapping a section of the wall. Kiera and I
shuffle over, squinting to read in the dim light.
No. It can’t be.
I gasp, reaching out to touch the initials in front of me. J. M. + J. C. ’99. My parents. ey were up here
all those years ago, on the weekend they officially got together.
It’s the final sign. at this plan, that Matt, that all of it is the right thing to do. Four-leaf clover or
not. That this is my way to my own version of what they had.
We’re all silent for a long moment, Kiera slinging her arms around me and Blake as we stare at the
wall, taking it all in.
“We should carve our names up here!” Kiera says, whipping a pocketknife out of her pocket like this
is an episode of Naked and Afraid.
“Whoa, there, buddy,” I say, holding up my hands.
She grins sheepishly. “My bad. Still in Misty Oasis mode.”
We find a free spot by my mom and dad’s initials, going one at a time, our own small part in this
massive tapestry spanning generations and generations. Kiera giles excitedly, peeking out the tiny
attic window as Blake finishes her C.
“I see people heading out. It’s time!” She turns and grabs me firmly by the shoulders. “You ready,
Em?”
I look at my parents’ initials on the wall and all of ours below it, nodding. “Let’s do this.”