Lucky Day

BEFORE I'm fully aware of my physical self-before I understand who or what or where I am-I reach out into the darkness. It's a primal movement of comfort, not desperate or worried, just reflexive.

Connection is what we're built for, and while this assertion may sound spiritual at its core, it doesn't have to be. Whether a patch of mold crawling over tile or a pack of hairless apes starting a fire, biological organisms thrive by working together. It's no wonder, then, that as a bodiless, floating thing, my first instinct is to hunt for someone else.

My hand finds nothing but empty sheets. The warmth I'm expecting is mysteriously absent, and this broken pattern does more to jerk me back into focus than any horrible, buzzing alarm clock ever could. Something is wrong. The rhythm of my life has shifted.

I reach a little deeper into the abyss, driven to hunt the cool, clean ocean of this vacant space. "Annie?" I sigh, stretching my body across the bed.

She's not there. My eyes pop open.

Chirp!

I'm greeted by the sound of my phone alarm, a single, piercing digital beep. It's short and efficient, customized so that I won't wake my girlfriend with a full round of the traditional rattling xylophone, but it appears today this effort is for naught.

My eyes scan our dimly lit bedroom. Despite Annie's absence, everything else is as it should be. A faint glow illuminates the blinds to my left, the brand-new day slowly churning itself into existence. Our shelves are organized, the wood floors are freshly mopped, and today's workout fit sits waiting for me on a nearby hanger.

My jaw hurts from a long night of grinding.

"Annie?" I call out, a little louder this time as I find my voice.

My mind leaps back through time, struggling to remember any particular morning that she woke before I did. I'm the one who gets up before dawn and walks across the park, then jogs home. I'm the one who makes our coffee. I'm the one-

A faint shuffle in the living room quells my panic, and moments later a familiar figure steps into the bedroom doorway. My whole world nudges back into alignment. Annie is always a hell of a sight, but this morning her short and messy blond hair feels especially playful, and the constellations of freckles that cover her face seem even more pronounced. She leans against the doorframe and cocks her head to the side, just gazing for a moment. It's the perfect amount of time to let me know that she's thinking something and choosing not to speak it, but her mischievous smile is a strong hint that whatever it is would make me blush.

"Good morning," Annie finally coos.

"What the fuck is happening? You're up before I am?" I joke. "And you're dressed?"

"Yes ma'am," Annie confirms. She hesitates, then laughs, momentarily shifting gears. "I can't believe you sleep like that, Vera."

I glance down at my rigid pose. While one arm has extended into the empty space where Annie usually rests, the other is tight against my side. I'm lying perfectly straight and flat on my back like a corpse in a coffin, my feet pointed at the ceiling.

I say nothing, consciously relaxing the tightness of my body.

Annie is clad in her workout gear, which consists of a ratty old Cocteau Twins tee with the sleeves cut off and light blue short-shorts that look like they belong on a '70s track star. It's chaotic and fun, like her, and it shows off the sway of her body as she saunters toward me.

"Need some help loosening up?" Annie asks. "There's all kinds of things we could do before your morning walk."

As she reaches the corner of the bed she drops to her hands and knees, exaggerating the movement of her hips. She crawls across the blankets. Unfortunately, as great as Annie looks in this position, my eyes have already moved slightly lower.

"Shoes!" I snap, pointing at the chunky white sneakers on her feet. They're caked in dried mud, soles worn down and laces fraying.

Annie lies flat, stretching out so that her feet stay hanging off the edge of the bed. It's just enough for her lips to meet mine, the two of us holding for a long, warm kiss. Despite the slightly awkward position, we take a moment to breathe each other in, then finally release.

"Later," I say.

Annie nods. "This is your day," she reminds me. "Whatever you want."

It is my day, and as much as I appreciate the gift of Annie doing her best type-A impression in solidarity, what I'd really love is for everything to stay the same. My peace is in the pattern.

"I wanna go for my walk," I inform her.

"Well, I'm ready," she proudly announces, standing up again.

I follow her lead, climbing from the tangled blankets. I change into my sleek, charcoal gray workout gear and slip on the running shoes I'd laid out side by side the night before. My jet-black hair is just long enough to pull back in a tight ponytail, clean and manageable. This takes four attempts to get perfect, but the finished product has absolutely no strays.

None.

Annie retreats to the kitchen as I make the bed, taking my time to perfectly crease every edge and tuck in the sheets. I also spend a moment with some water and a paper towel, scrubbing down two faint smudges on our floor where Annie's filthy running shoes briefly trod.

"I only schedule half an hour for this," I remind her as we step out onto our front stoop. "We can't take long."

"I know, Vera," Annie patiently confirms, thankfully more amused than annoyed by my incessant programming. At this point in our relationship, that's a goddamn miracle.

The morning is brisk, but the slowly rising sun already feels pleasant and warm against my skin as we set out on our trek. We head down our front steps then take a sharp turn on the sidewalk, tightly packed apartments and town houses finally giving way to wide open space as our block reaches the edge of the park.

Facing north, a glorious view of the Chicago skyline opens up before us, distant buildings looming over our quaint neighborhood square. This adorable parcel of green grass isn't quite as impressive as the grand 1,200 acres of Lincoln Park across town, but it gets the job done.

Annie goes to cross the street when a sudden movement from the corner of my eye prompts this morning's second instinctual reaction. Again, I reach out for Annie, only this time I manage to grab her collar and yank her back as a blue sedan comes flying around the corner with a loud screech, music blaring.

The vehicle rumbles into a nearby gravel parking lot and comes to a grinding halt across two spaces.

Anger surges within me. For the briefest moment, I consider yelling out or storming over there, but I hold myself back. Somehow, I find the balance to remember the stakes of the day. I need to stay focused and pick my battles.

One action I do take, however, is to pull Annie a little closer. I slip my arm around her waist as we make our second crossing attempt, much safer this time.

Glancing over my shoulder, I catch sight of the driver opening his car door. The man hops out, head down and long, ratty hair hanging like a mop. An unkempt beard covers his face. Above him, a large green sign reads: POKER ROOM.

"Asshole," I mumble under my breath, watching as the man hustles inside.

"What?" Annie asks, confused.

It's then that I realize she's already moved on. Instead of looking behind us, Annie's focus is straight ahead. She's charting our journey down a winding cement path, enjoying the lush, emerald green trees that line our morning walk.

"Nothing," I reply, shaking my head.

"You thinking about today?"

"I wasn't, but now I am." I laugh.

"And you're nervous?"

I nod. "Always."

"Vera, you should be excited. You've been working on this book for so long."

"I'm not nervous about the book," I clarify.

Annie considers this, momentarily silent. A dog walker strolls past us. A delivery truck beeps in the distance. The city is waking up.

"You know, you can always wait," Annie finally says. She's extending an olive branch, being the merciful, patient, loving partner that anyone would kill to hold so close at a moment like this, and all those qualities are exactly why I can't take her up on her offer. She deserves better.

I shake my head. "I'm doing it today."

Annie can't help the way my response makes her lips curl up at the corners. The grin is such a genuine display of joy that she immediately glances down, covering it up. She nuzzles her body even deeper into mine, her head pushing hard against my shoulder.

The sun has finally made its grand entrance, sitting low on the horizon and painting the sky with a streak of brilliant pink across what's left of the night. We've reached a little glen at the far end of the park, a place where our path opens onto a small courtyard with some benches and a modest centerpiece fountain trickling away. This is just about where my morning walk transitions into a run.

"Look!" Annie shouts, suddenly breaking away from me and crouching down.

She returns with a grimy copper penny between her fingers, holding it up for me to see.

"Heads," she announces. "It's your lucky day."

"I feel so much better about coming out to Mom now," I state dryly.

"What could go...