Miss Fortune

I’ve always dreamed of leaving this life behind, but I never imagined something as simple as a piece of paper would be the reason for it all. The crushing feeling of being stuck—trying to afford the cost of living all on my own—isn’t something I want for the rest of my life.

“Astrid!” my dad’s voice yelled from downstairs. Tears streaked my face as I lay on my side on my childhood bed, wearing a black dress. I stared at a framed photo of my mum, dad, sister, and me on the bedside table, my heart sinking. Mum and Alana are gone; I can’t believe they’re actually gone. The only people who truly made me feel loved.

The sound of heavy footsteps grew louder behind the bedroom door before it swung open, revealing an irritated Dad.

“Astrid, for the love of God, can you come downstairs to greet everyone for the wake?” he barked. Silently, I stood up from my bed and walked toward the door. He blocked the way with his arms folded. “And don’t sulk. Everyone will think you’re miserable to be around. I haven’t told anyone that you’re no longer living here with us. So, what will you tell the guests if they ask?”

“That I’m happy living with you and Candace,” I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.

Candace is my dad’s wife. He remarried not long before my mum and sister died in a car collision. On my eighteenth birthday, he and Candace agreed to kick me out and cut me off, so I moved in with my best friend, Callie.

Mum had been unwell for months before the accident. She was in the hospital with organ infections, at risk of sepsis, so she never found another place after the divorce. My sister, Alana, had been driving her from the hospital to stay with her and her boyfriend—until the semi-truck hit them.

What I didn’t understand was why my dad remarried a woman who wouldn’t accept a child that wasn’t her own. He quickly became someone I couldn’t recognise, someone who cared more about his image than me, and today only proved it more. Pretending to still live with him to make him look like a good father hurt more than anything.

He finally stepped aside, and I passed him, heading downstairs. I felt him following close behind. Sympathetic faces were everywhere—distant relatives, neighbours, family friends—but none of them ever checked in on me. None of them knew the reality of this house I was in.

The living room was silent, people hugging each other, flowers and cards everywhere.

If Alana were here, she’d laugh and call this a pity party. She’d go out of her way to uplift everyone and get people dancing. She was everything I’m not. Dad and Candace actually loved her. Maybe it was because she had a life of her own and didn’t live with them. She always stood up for me. I missed her. I missed Mum. Mum was gentle, so kind; she had this gleam in her eyes that made you feel warm and comforted in an instant. None of this felt fair.

I felt someone’s eyes burning into the back of my head. I looked over and saw Candace, her lips pursed, her dark red lipstick smudged. She gripped her glass of red wine, rolling her eyes whenever guests talked about Mum’s positive impact. When she noticed me observing, I turned and walked past her, heading to the kitchen to escape the fake sympathy around me. I filled a glass with water and leaned over the sink, trying to keep it together.

“God, Astrid. Stop being so fuckin’ unsociable. Your mum would be disappointed in you.” Candace’s voice slurred behind me, and anger instantly washed over me.

“Don’t talk about my mum like that; you didn’t know her,” I snapped, turning to face her.

She scoffed. “Oh please, your mum was no good. She and Alana must love not having to deal with you anymore like we have to.”

It felt like my heart shattered all over again. Slowly, I walked toward Candace, took her half-empty glass of wine out of her hand, and emptied it in the sink.

“You may not believe in the good faith Mum and Alana had, but there’s one thing I’ll always believe in, and that’s karma.” I shoved past her and stormed out of the house.

Standing outside, I felt my flats dampen from the mildew on the grass. I looked at the mailbox; Alana and I had painted our handprints on it, but now it was painted over. Tears welled in my eyes, blurring my vision. Anger surged, and I kicked the mailbox over and over until it fell.

Wiping the tears from my face, I got into my old Toyota Corolla and drove off. The radio played “Mr. Loverman” by Ricky Montgomery as trees, cars, and houses with white picket fences blurred past. Fighting back tears, I headed towards my work, Bellaview Tavern.

When I finally arrived at work, I was a mess. My head was still swimming with frustration from the wake, and the last thing I wanted was to plaster on a customer-service smile. Gary, my regular customer, must’ve sensed it the moment I walked in.

“Rough day, huh?” he asked, leaning on the counter with his usual laid-back grin.

“You don’t even know,” I replied, grabbing my apron from the hook and sighing heavily.

“Well, cheer up, sunshine,” Gary said, reaching into his pocket. “Got something for you.”

He pulled out a crumpled lottery ticket and handed it to me like it was the key to a treasure chest.

“What’s this for?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just a little pick-me-up. If it wins, you can quit this joint and live the high life,” he said with a wink.

I rolled my eyes but smiled despite myself. “Thanks, Gary. Guess I’ll hold on to it for good luck.”

“Don’t forget about us little people when you’re rolling in cash,” he joked as I began to take his order. Looking at Gary as he walks back to his table, he seems more feeble than usual.

The day passed in a blur of customers, spills, and the steady hum of background music, but the ticket stayed in my apron pocket, a tiny spark of possibility.

When I finally arrived home, I parked in the driveway and spotted Callie sitting on the front porch, her phone in hand and a cigarette in the other. She looked up and smiled softly, standing to greet me while her fiancé was still on FaceTime.

“How’d the wake go? It was today, right?” Callie asked, turning the volume on her phone down.

“Yeah, it was today. It went exactly as I expected—I can’t stand them,” I sighed, shaking my head as I locked the car.

“Your dad and Candace? Honestly, I don’t know how they can be so rotten,” Callie said, disgust evident in her voice. I nodded in agreement.

Her face lit up suddenly. “You know what you should do? Pack your stuff and get out of here. Go to another country and live the life you deserve!”

I laughed dryly as I walk to her. “And with what money? That’s a dream I can’t afford.”

“Oh! I forgot to tell you—I have some good news... and maybe bad news?” she said hesitantly, biting her lip.

I raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“Well, you know Lily proposed two months ago, right? She wants me to move in with her... So, I’ll be moving out in three weeks,” she admitted, wincing.

I paused, then smiled. “Callie, that’s great news! Don’t stress—I’ll figure something out. I can always find a new housemate.”

Her shoulders relaxed, and she grinned. “Thank God. I was so worried you’d be upset.”

We walked inside together after she butt out her cigarette and ended the call. She launched into the story of how Lily had hidden the ring in a cake at the bakery where they’d first met. Callie almost ate it before noticing the shiny object, and we both laughed at the mental image. Her excitement was contagious, and for a moment, I forgot about the heaviness in my chest.

As we settled in, I tossed my bag by the door and turned on the TV, letting the sound fill the apartment. Callie headed to her room, and I made my way to the bathroom. Grabbing a makeup wipe, I stared at my reflection—red, puffy eyes and smudged mascara told the story of the day.

In the background, a cheerful lottery commercial caught my attention. I suddenly remembered the ticket Gary had handed me earlier as a joke. Digging into my apron pocket, I pulled it out and placed it on my bedside table.

Collapsing onto the bed, the weight of the day pressed down on me. The TV murmured in the background as my eyelids grew heavy. I didn’t bother changing out of my black dress. Sleep came quickly, the promise of another difficult day looming ahead.