Julie and Romeo Get Lucky by Jeanne Ray Page B

summer.
    With all that money, we would all be freed from all our financial worries. Think about all the time we’d have then. We’d never have to waste those hours feeling nervous over stacks of bills, and we’d never have to rush to make a matinee instead of going to the movies for full price in the evenings. We wouldn’t have to pick one thing over another—not that we needed to have everything, but wouldn’t it be lovely not to waste so much time trying to decide? Adults knew better than to allow themselves the luxury of pinning their hopes on crazy schemes, but watching Sarah do it, it was hard not to get swept away by the moment.
    â€œQuiet!” Sarah said, though no one was talking. “This is it.”
    But it wasn’t it. Ball after ball shot up and came to nothing. Even though she had managed to hustle eleven tickets from various sources, none of them had more than one of the numbers necessary to win.
    Sarah stared at the television set after it was over, waiting for Dawn to come back on and say that she’d made a mistake, that she wanted to call the numbers again. “It’s all Nora’s fault,” she said. “She promised she’d be here.”
    Sandy crouched down in front of her blue daughter and brushed the loose springs of hair back with the flat of her hand. “It isn’t Nora’s fault, sweetheart. It’s just bad luck.”
    â€œI’ll win next week,” Sarah said, in a voice so tired I wasn’t even sure if she believed it herself. “Next week the jackpot will be bigger, and it will be even better to win then.”
    â€œThere isn’t going to be a next week for the lottery,” Sandy said quietly. “This isn’t the place you need to look for a golden ticket.”
    Sarah was crying a little, making muddied streaks in the eye shadow on her cheeks. Sandy picked her daughter up in her arms and carried her up the stairs like she was still a little girl, then washed all of the blue from her face and make her brush the candy out of her teeth before putting her in her bed.
    Sandy was right about the bad luck. At eleven o’clock that night, Alex called from the hospital to tell me that Nora had started to bleed.
    â€œShe didn’t lose the babies,” he said. “She didn’t want me to call you until we knew for sure, but the doctor says they’re all still there. She’s going to have to go on complete bed rest, but he thinks if she stays really still, she might be able to hold on to them.”
    â€œThem?” I said. “Alex, is Nora having twins?”
    â€œTriplets,” he said.
    I was no stranger to counting to three. It was something I had managed easily even as a very young child, but now the skill completely eluded me. One and one and one. I couldn’t make the numbers add up. I tried to see three babies in my mind, three babies sitting in a row, but each time I put that third one in the picture, the other two fell away. I couldn’t even make myself see three babies, much less make myself think about what three babies would mean. I couldn’t tell what was good luck and what was bad luck anymore. The two concepts had collided in my mind.
    But for Sarah, the concepts were perfectly clear. The next morning it was announced on the radio that Kay Bjork from Stamford, Connecticut, had won the Big Game Mega Millions, all 234 of them.
    â€œBe Jork?” Little Tony said. “What kind of a name is that?”
    Sarah started to cry fat tears. “It isn’t fair! It isn’t fair! She isn’t even from Massachusetts.”
    But the numbered Ping-Pong balls that blew up from the long, clear throat of the lottery machine knew no state loyalty. The pot, at least for the present moment, was again empty.

Chapter Eight
    â€œI HAVE AN INCOMPETENT CERVIX ,” N ORA SAID WHEN she called the next morning.
    â€œAre you still in the hospital?”
    â€œDo you