The Lucky List (Chestnut Mountain #2)

Chapter 1

LUCY

“Boys have a penis, and girls have a… a buh-gi-nuh.” Micah splashes a gallon of bathwater over the side of the tub as his little brother Levi chants “PEE-NIS” on repeat. “And there’s a hole in your penis, and that’s where the peepee comes out.”

“Pee pee! PEE-NIS!” Levi hits the S hard as he grabs an empty shampoo bottle and fills it with water, then pretends to pee with it, spraying me in the process.

I reach for another towel in the closet and come up empty. Why are there never any clean towels? Where do they all keep going?

They’re probably in the hamper. I really need to do another load of laundry.

It’s just another Saturday night in our house, except now with more colorful language since my oldest has decided to give my youngest a biology lesson. “Boys, it’s okay to talk about this stuff at home—”

“About penises and baginas?”

“Right. That. But you do not talk about that stuff at school. Understand?” I attempt to wrangle Levi so I can rub some shampoo in his hair.

“Okay, Mommy,” Micah says.

“PEE-NIS!” Levi squeals.

I’m so screwed.

If I get another call from Levi’s preschool, I will lose my mind.

Levi keeps getting in trouble for using inappropriate language.

Apparently, he’s the only one in the class with an older brother to teach him these words.

Thankfully, Micah’s teacher is my friend Bella.

She’s much more understanding about things like this.

Levi’s preschool is not as understanding.

These are the parts of motherhood I wish someone had prepared me for.

Levi splashes me with water from his empty-bottle-turned-squirt-gun, and I shake my head, clearing my intrusive thoughts. I love my kids, but I’m exhausted.

“Okay, you two are turning into prunes, so let's finish up and get our jammies on.” I soap up the washcloth and hand it to Micah, and he does the quickest full body scrub known to man.

“I think you missed a couple spots there, buddy.” I turn to Levi, handing him another soaped-up cloth. “Your turn. Wash your body.”

“I can’t. It’s too hard. You do it, Mama.”

And because I want to enjoy a glass of wine before I go to bed and we’re already running behind schedule for their bedtime, I decide to pull out my go-to. “I bet you can’t do it faster than your brother.”

Levi sizes up Micah, takes the rag, and proceeds to do an even worse job than his older brother.

Whatever. Good enough.

“I win!” Micah declares.

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yes-huh. You didn’t clean your penis and testicles,” Micah says.

“TESS-TICK-UH-BULLS!” Levi shouts as he haphazardly rubs the washcloth all over his privates.

“Look at my pee-nis, Mama. It’s floppy. I make it dance!

” He then proceeds to wiggle his hips side to side, causing his penis to indeed dance.

Micah decides he wants to try the penis dance too, and pretty soon they’re shaking their penises in unison.

I drop my head to hide my smile. It’s really hard not to laugh at their potty humor, but I need to be the adult here.

“Okay, that’s quite enough.”

“Swipe the card, Mama!” Micah whines.

I groan. When do boys learn how to successfully wipe their own asses?

In my early days of parenting and potty training, in an effort to teach them about said wiping, I likened washing their cracks to swiping a credit card through a slot. It helped in bath time and potty training, but now I regret it.

In unison, they turn around, holding their cheeks open as they bend over.

“Look at my booty, Mama!” Levi squeals as both he and Micah break out into giggles.

Did I think this is how I was going to be spending my Saturday nights as an adult?

Double-fisting washcloths while two little boys bend over—asses way too close to my face for comfort—so I can swipe their cheeks in a synchronized ballet of private part washing after I’ve already watched a pas de deux of penises?

No. No, I did not.

But I wouldn’t trade my boys for anything in the world. I just wish they would learn how to wipe their butts. And pee in the toilet. And stop talking about farts in public.

Once I get my feral monsters toweled off, teeth brushed, and in pajamas, it only takes four books, five rounds of snuggles and scratches, and three songs to get them tucked in.

The moments when they’re finally calm, drifting off as they cuddle up to me, make everything worth it, and I know I’ll miss these days when they’re older.

Hell, I already miss the ones that have passed.

Their mere existence is a blessing of me making my own luck, and I love them, but being a single mom to two rambunctious young boys has drained my energy, my sanity, and my bank account.

And I’m low-key mad that no one told me to invest in Pokémon and Band-Aids when I found out I was having a boy.

If I had, I’d be rich by now instead of living off a meager teacher’s salary.

But that’s my luck, or rather my lack of.

If the word “unlucky” had a picture next to it in the dictionary, it would just be my face.

I can’t catch a break in any area of my life.

Growing up in a volatile household, I learned early on that I could only depend on myself.

I’ve dated a few men, and each one was great…

until they weren’t. The last one was particularly awful, making me question my self-worth.

Sure, I have a great job that I love, but every year I get stuck with the most difficult students. And it seems like other teachers have their shit together way more than I do.

And I have friends I love, but I’m way too independent to ever let myself depend on them. What if they see how chaotic my life and brain really are and leave me too?

Even my body has felt unlucky at times. Endometriosis affects one in ten women, and I’m one of them. The one thing I ever knew with any certainty was that I wanted to be a mom, and I was determined not to let luck fuck me over on that front.

Once I pour myself a glass of chardonnay, I settle onto the couch and pull up the group chat, overwhelmed with how behind I am.

Our bedtime routine takes thirty minutes most nights, which means I’ve missed countless messages and dozens of long voice memos.

I’m about to close it, resigned to catch up with the girls later, when my name in a text catches my attention.

Bella: LUCY! Where are you? We found you a piece of Grade A man meat! Do you copy?

Raven: Bella, you’re at a ten, I’m gonna need you to take it down to a two.

Bella:

Summer: [photo of a guy who resembles a younger Ben Affleck]

Bella: He kinda looks like Ben Affleck back in the early 2000s when he was cute.

Raven: Why are we shopping for men for our friend?

Summer: Wouldn’t it be cool if we could actually shop for men? Make a list and find someone that has everything you want?

Bella: Ooh I love lists!

Raven: I’m pretty sure you can. That’s what dating apps are for.

Raven: Summer, I’ve seen how picky you are when we go shopping, are you sure you wanna put a guy through all that?

Summer: Every house I sell goes through a thorough inspection.

I don’t want to let any clients end up with a dud of a house.

There’s nothing wrong with having high expectations.

I want to know what I’m getting into before I commit to a thirty-year mortgage.

I think it’s only fair that I do the same with men.

Bella: So you don’t end up with a dud?

Then there’s a four-minute voice memo where Summer lists all the parts of a house inspection and compares each to her requirements in a guy. I listen to it at 2x speed to try to get caught up. It’s very thorough.

Raven: Sounds romantic.

Bella: It is! She wants someone to check all her boxes before he checks her box.

Raven: …

Bella: Her lady box. You know. Her vagina.

Raven:

Me: I’ve had enough vagina tonight.

Raven: Ummm, I’m gonna need you to elaborate.

Me: Enough vagina talk. Not actual vagina.

Bella: Is Micah still talking about BAGINAS?

Me: Yes. Thanks for that.

Summer: What is happening now?

Bella: During story time yesterday, one of the kids gave us a full lesson on private parts before I could stop him. It was worse than the fart that stopped class for thirty minutes last fall! Micah was particularly fascinated by the topic though.

Me: I could hear your entire class laughing during fartpocalypse.

Summer: But did you hear the fart?

Me: No, just the fallout.

Raven: I don’t know how you two do it. I love my kids, and all of yours, but that’s my limit. There’s no way I could put up with a bunch of tiny humans all day at work.

Summer: Can we circle back to the meaty man?

Bella: Yes!

Me: Can we not? I love you guys, but I have terrible luck when it comes to dating.

Summer: That’s why we are intervening!

Bella: We know what you like. We’ll find you a good one.

Raven: She likes firefighters, that’s all she talks about ever since that calendar came out.

Bella: I’m pretty partial to Mr. December.

Raven: We know.

Summer: Which firefighter are you partial to, Lucy?

Raven: To which are you partial?

Bella: Nobody cares about grammar in DMs, Raven.

Raven: Sorry, old habits die hard when you stare at newspaper copy all day.

Bella: Hey ladies, what’s black and white and read all over?

Raven: That joke only works when you say it out loud because read is a homophone for red.

Bella: I wasn’t gonna say a newspaper.

Summer: What were you going to say?

Bella: A sunburnt penguin.

Raven:

Bella: That killed with the kindergartners.

Summer: Can we get back to Lucy’s date?

Bella: Thanks for wrangling the kittens, mom!

Summer: I got you.

Raven: Kittens?

Bella: Kittens are hard to wrangle because they do what they want and wander all over. Just like this convo.

Raven: Ah.

Me: I’m not going on a date. When would I even have time?

Bella: We’ll help.

Summer: He’s a man in uniform!

Raven: What kind of uniform?

Me: Is he a firefighter?

Summer: …

Raven:

Summer: He’s my cousin’s best friend’s older brother…in-law.

Bella: Come again, now?

Raven: I couldn’t follow that if I tried.

Me: So you don’t know him personally?

Summer: Not technically, but he’s cute. I sent a picture earlier. Scroll up.

Me: Oh yeah. I saw it.

Summer: So, what do you think? Can I set it up?

Me: Summer, are you sure you don’t want to date him?

Summer: He’s not my type.

Raven: Yeah, her type is her best friend’s brother.

Summer: Oh my God, Raven. That was one time!

Bella: What was one time?

Me: You don’t know this story?

Bella: What story? Tell me the story!

Summer: I kissed Raven’s brother RJ in tenth grade. It was during a game of truth or dare.

Raven: He still asks about you.

Me: He does not!

Bella: Wait, there’s more to this story, right?

Summer: You’re lying. He definitely does not ask about me.

Raven: Yes, he does. He wants to know if you still have your braces.

Bella: Why would he care about that?

Summer: OMG HE DOES NOT

Me: Shut up!

I giggle, kicking my feet as I take another sip of my wine, thankful to have distracted them from setting me up.

Bella: What am I missing?

Me: I can’t believe you’ve never heard this story!

Bella: We weren’t all the same year back in school.

Me: Yeah, but I know we’ve talked about this at an after-hours PTO meeting at the bar.

Bella: If I was drunk at one of those, I wouldn’t remember anything.

Bella: Can someone just tell me!

Raven: Someone dared Summer to kiss my brother.

Bella: Who dared her?

Me: Raven did!

Bella:

Raven: I knew she had a crush on him. I also knew he was a disgusting creature, and I figured if she kissed him, she’d get over her crush and move on.

Bella: I appreciate the logic. Very on brand for you.

Me: Oh she got over him alright!

Bella: Was he a bad kisser?

Raven: You could say that.

Summer: It wasn’t his fault!

Bella: WHAT HAPPENED?

Me: They got stuck together!

Bella: NOOOOOOOOOO

Raven: Yes. My idiot brother came in all hot and mashed his face into hers and their braces got caught.

Summer: He’s not an idiot. He was sweet.

Raven: He drooled all over you.

Summer: Because we were stuck together!

Bella: This is amazing!

Summer: He was really sweet about everything, but I was mortified because it was my first kiss.

Bella: It was not!

Me: Wait. Really? I didn’t know that part.

Raven: It was his first kiss too.

Bella: SHUT UP! THAT’S SO ROMANTIC!!!

Summer: It was the opposite of romantic.

Me: Sounds like he has my bad luck.

Bella: Is he single?

Raven: Tired of Hardy already?

Bella: Not for me, for Summer.

Summer: Nope. We’re shopping for Lucy’s man meat. I am off the meat market.

Raven: Eww. Please don’t use the term meat when referring to my brother.

Summer: So should I set up the date, Lucy?

Me: With brace face?

Raven: Hehe, now that nickname I like.

Summer: No, with your hottie in the uniform.

Me: What kind of uniform?

Bella: Does it matter? It’ll look good on your bedroom floor.

Me: And you promise he’s not a creep?

Summer: I don’t think he is.

Raven: That does not inspire confidence.

Summer: But he’s so cute! He looks like Ben Affleck!

Me: He is cute. And I do love a good butt chin.

Raven: You mean cleft chin.

Summer: Then it’s settled?

Raven: You could just play it safe with coffee.

Me: Raven, you have the most sense out of all of us. Why are you encouraging this?

Raven: Honestly, I don’t know.

Bella: I’ll watch your class.

Summer: I’ll set it up.

Me: Oh my God, you guys placed a bet, didn’t you?

I sigh and take another gulp of wine. Our group is known to do this. Last Christmas the three of us placed bets on Bella and Hardy falling in love. Our DM has gone suspiciously quiet, and I know I’m not getting anything else out of them, so I finish my wine, resigned to my fate.

Me: Fine, set it up.

Summer: Yay! You should make a list!

Me: What kind of list?

Raven: How about a list of desirable traits you’re looking for in a man in case this one doesn’t work out?

Bella: Boring! Make a sex list!

I think over their suggestions. Bella is the only one I’ve shared much about my past with, all the shitty men that have let me down. I’ve been called fat, boring in bed, forgettable. I sure know how to pick ’em, huh?

But the thought of making a list is pretty tempting.

I rip a slip of paper out of one of the half-colored-in notebooks the boys have destroyed and start jotting down some ideas.

If I’m going to jump back into the dating world, I might as well be clear about what I want, even if I’m the only one who will ever see this.

Lucy’s Get Lucky List

1. Be less boring in bed

2. Role-play

3. Have multiple orgasms

4. Tie someone up

5. Sit on someone’s face

6. Spankings?

7. Hook up with a guy with an accent. Mr. March? I wish!