All Our Lucky Stars

The bells above the front door jingled, prompting Walter to stand from his stool and push his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Rather than someone stained with paint and promise, a young girl wearing a dress entered the store. The array of colors set before her made her appear as one happening upon wonderland. Every step forward attested to the cultivation of her curiosity.

One side of the store was dedicated to art supplies, while the other showcased an array of ethereal paintings. When she finally met Walter's gaze, she stilled. The moment his lips moved, as if to speak, she abruptly turned down the graphite aisle. The variety of pencils and sticks held no intrigue but provided ample distraction until her embarrassment passed. She recalled the warmth in his green eyes and hoped it meant he wouldn't fix his heart to judge her.

Walter twisted his wedding ring, disheartened by the possibility of having intimidated the girl. For a sliver of a moment, he'd gotten to see the awe in her wide eyes. Part of his world was within those four walls, and having anyone step into it brought him the kind of happiness that warmed his heart.

It had been his wife, Annalise, who encouraged him to open a store. They'd been sitting under the stars the night of their first wedding anniversary. The rest of the neighborhood was quiet as if it knew the ears of possibility were hearkening them. She watched the fluid motions of Walter's hand as he sketched a quick portrait of her, the lanterns on the porch providing ample light. There was a peculiar way he bit his lip that she loved.

"Walter," she said.

He hummed.

"You should consider selling your work."

He met her gaze then. She looked so beautiful he would've done anything she suggested at that moment. She'd taken down the twists in her hair, and the accentuated volume elegantly framed her face. She was also pregnant with their son, the bump appearing like a small watermelon under her dress.

She laughed at his dazed look. "Just a thought," she'd followed up.

"If courage finds me at the right time, I will." He held up his sketchbook for her to see how the drawing was coming along. "You're forever my muse."

The young girl finally emerged from the aisle and gravitated to the opposite side of the store, black shoes clicking on the wooden floor. Along the way, she gave Walter a shy wave that he returned. The wall of paintings spanned so high above her that she had to tilt her head back. Most of them depicted scenes of nature, and the few that were domestic featured a woman with corkscrew curls similar to hers. She looked breathtaking.

"The same lady is in these paintings," Ella commented, her voice soft.

"She's my wife." They'd been married for twenty years.

"Oh, she's pretty." She wanted to be able to capture the likeness of pretty things and people too.

Walter was about to agree when a woman tapped on the door. The girl whipped around, and a look of recognition crossed her features. The woman motioned for her to come outside.

Ella directed her attention back to Walter. "Goodbye, sir. I have to go."

"Come back whenever you'd like."

"I will."

That evening, Walter arrived home to the sound of smooth jazz flowing from deeper within the house. A curious smile budded on his face as he toed off his boots. Annalise always listened to music, but that night's pick differed from the usual songs she enjoyed. He found her in the kitchen, taking a pan of muffins out of the oven. The CD player sat on the island countertop.

She looked over her shoulder to see Walter running a hand through his dark hair. "Hey, Handsome. You're home a little earlier than usual."

He smiled. "I am. How was your day?" He turned the music a couple of notches down.

"Productive," she said. "I got around to cleaning the house, cooked dinner, and baked your favorite." She gestured to the muffins she'd sat down to cool. "Thought they'd be a nice treat."

"A very nice treat." He moved to embrace her. "I don't think I've heard this song before. It sounds romantic."

They shared a brief kiss.

"It does. My girlfriend's brother plays the sax in a jazz combo. I'd almost forgotten she gave me a CD of theirs when we went out for lunch the other day," she said. "Guess what the song is titled."

"What?"

"All Our Lucky Stars," she said. "I love the sound of that." She let out a laugh. "Maybe it's just me."

In that instance, Walter fell in love with her all over again. Before Annalise realized what he was doing, he guided her toward the living room, where there was more space. His strong arms found their way around her waist, and he began swaying to the soulful melody still filling the atmosphere. She accepted it as an invitation to wrap her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. He smelled faintly of cologne and the outside air. It felt good to be with him in this way. Their son, Isaac, had moved out, and within those walls, it was just the two of them.

The girl didn't return to Walter's shop until the following week. She appeared more confident and was carrying a small black notebook. Walter had more customers to keep an eye on that day but was pleasantly surprised to see her. She approached where he sat at the checkout counter.

"Hi, sir. My name is Ella. Do you remember me from last week?" She asked.

"I do. It's good to see you again, Ella. My name is Walter."

She placed the notebook on the counter in front of him. "I tried drawing some things," she said. "And my mom gave me money to buy an actual sketchbook today."

His brows rose. "Well, that's exciting. You don't mind if I take a look, do you?"

Ella shook her head. Walter briefly ran his fingers over the smooth cover before opening the book. She noticed the dried paint on his hands. After flipping through the first few pages, a furrow formed between his brows, and Ella grew nervous. She wanted him to like the drawings. Her mom, who was shopping a couple of doors down, had encouraged her to show him. But more importantly, she wanted him to like them because he inspired her.

She'd drawn and colored a rose, a seashell, and a stuffed bunny, and they'd all turned out semi-realistic, the proportions accurate. Her skill set was more advanced than the average kid her age.

"These are very nice, Ella. I can tell you took your time," he said. "Do you like them?"

Relief rushed through her, but she was taken aback by the question. "Yes. I like them," she said carefully.

Walter recognized the look on her face. It was the same one he often wore as a child. There was a spark of passion kindling within her, and she wanted someone to help her fan it into a flame.

"I have a proposal," he said. "I'll give you a sketchbook, and all you have to do is promise me something in return."

"What?"

"That you'll finish all the pages in this notebook, and you won't forget about me when your work makes it into galleries."

Ella couldn't help a giggle. "Okay. I'll try."

Walter held out his pinkie. "Pinkie promise?"

She laughed even more and hooked her pinkie around his.

For eight years, Ella visited Walter's store almost every week. She was one of the few people he allowed to use his studio in the back room. Under his mentorship, she not only blossomed into a more mature artist but became like the daughter he never had. He welcomed her into his home, and even Annalise enjoyed her company. She was as kindhearted as she was talented. But the summer they found out that Ella's family was moving to the city, the world came to a temporary standstill. She spent her last evening in the small town with Walter and Annalise Fitzgerald.

"Remember what you promised me when you were eight, El?" Walter asked, nudging her in an attempt to make her smile.

She was sixteen, and tears threatened to spill down her face. She chuckled nonetheless. "Yeah."

"Go make the last part of it come true."

Ella took those words and hid them in her heart. She stayed in contact with the Fitzgeralds for a while. But there came a time when her success began demanding more of her attention. It wasn't meeting Arlo, who would later become her husband, that she was coaxed from the allure of her craft. They met when he was her server one night. The restaurant had been bustling with patrons, but he served his assigned tables with undeniable efficiency and charm. She left his tip on top of a napkin that she sketched the city's skyline on, making sure to sign her full name.

Later, after he learned about all the Fitzgerald's had done for her, he encouraged her to visit them.

"They'll be happy to see you," he'd said.

So she did, after ten years of being away. They still lived in the same modest brick-front home. Beautiful Shock Wave Ivories now hung on the porch. After she knocked, the door opened to reveal a man whose face she'd never forget. His green eyes still held the same warmth she remembered from their first encounter.

She felt shy all over again. "Hi, Mr. Walter. I hope time hasn't made strangers of us."

Walter shook his head in amazement. "My eyes must be deceiving me," he said. "My goodness, you've grown."

She smiled. "Yes, sir. I turned twenty-six last month."

"Please, come inside." He opened the door wider.

When Annalise saw her, her mouth fell open. "Ella? Look at you! You've grown into such a beautiful young lady," she gushed. "Tell us everything."

They sat in the living room and caught up for hours. Reminiscing and laughing until their stomachs ached. Their happiness made a tinge of humor find its way into every word. Ella told the Fitzgeralds all about her endeavors, which included fulfilling her promise to Walter and starting an after-school art program for an elementary school. The whole time, there was nothing but love and pride in their eyes.

"My life wouldn't be the same without you two," she said. "I apologize for not reaching out as much. It feels like I never properly thanked you—" Her repressed emotions finally caught up with her, and she began to cry.

"Hey, it's okay, El," Walter soothed. "We're so proud of you."

She nodded with a sniffle. "I have something for you."

Ella pulled out her first drawing notebook from her purse and handed it to Walter. Annalise rested her head on his shoulder as he began turning through it. So many of her old drawings looked familiar to him. But when he turned to a page with a cluster of stars, a piece of paper slipped out. Annalise caught it. It was a check for $20,000.

They looked to Ella in disbelief.

"We can't—" Walter's voice was thick with surprise.

"I insist. An established artist from the city invested that in me, and I wanted to pay it forward. No amount of money equates to the value you two have added to my life. And through me, you've influenced so many people in the best way."

Tears welled in Walter's eyes. The number of directions and voices he could've followed throughout the course of his life were as numerous as the stars in the night sky. He believed he'd followed all the right ones. He was sure Annalise and Ella would say the same for themselves.

"These must be some of our lucky stars," Annalise whispered.