This is the second part of a short story/novella that you will find under categories as Lucy Kilgore. The first part is here. If I’m successful, for the most part each should hopefully be read as a standalone flash fiction. If I’m unsuccessful, it could be confusing. 🙂

I’m beat and the last thing I want to think about is going to a bar with Billy and his entourage. Ever since I got back from Afghanistan he’s been trying to get me to socialize more, date some of the cute nurses from General. Tonight he and his friends are going to Houlihans to hear some woman sing and play her guitar.

“Come on, man. You haven’t gone out with us since you got back,” Billy says as we stop by the unit desk where his current girlfriend, Mandy, waits holding a flyer.

“Look at this girl, does she or does she not look like someone you know?” he asks, taking the flyer from Mandy and handing it to me.

My heart stutters. Except for the hair and the eye color, it could have been Lucy. My Lucy. The same Lucy who has refused to take my calls, answer my texts or emails, or even let me explain why I did what I did.

Billy is nodding and grinning like he knows what I’m thinking. “Just like Lucy. Am I right? So you’ll come, right?”

I stare at the face. The slightly crooked smile that radiates humor and sass. Lacey Cantrell the flyer says. Could it be a cousin of Lucy’s that I never met? And, if it is, maybe there’s a chance that Lucy would actually be there to support her cousin.

“Hell, yeah. I’m going to go,” I say and keep the flyer as we walk back out to the ambulance. For the first time since I’ve gotten back, things are looking up.

Sascha Darlington 5/28/2017