The Beginning of the End, Part 37

As it generally does, life went on. Despite my concerns about Melanie, I forced myself to move ahead and start making some positive changes in my life. I hadn’t spoken to Nancy in quite a while, and honestly wasn’t in any hurry to do so. I had, however, called Gregg, and informed him that I thought it was best if I didn’t return to my job. Thankfully, he was very understanding and wished me well. Shelley had come by and hugged me tearfully and promised she would come by and visit. I had laughed and told her I wasn’t leaving the state – only the restaurant. But I knew that the Olive Garden was our only real tie, and without that we would probably lose touch. I watched her leave and wondered if it was for the last time.

Kevin had brought home an application for me from the casino where he worked, and I filled it out and walked him to work to hand it in personally. I was given an immediate “interview,” and walked out as an official casino change-person, that is, as long as the background check cleared and I got my sheriff’s card. I wasn’t too concerned about either, and didn’t have to be. I passed with flying colors and proudly walked in for my first shift as a bonded casino employee.

For a while, everything in life seemed to be falling into place. I enjoyed my new job and the people I worked with. I was developing some “regulars,” gamblers who frequented the section I worked in and knew me by name. The job itself was more fun than work, spending mid afternoon to mid evening handing out rolls of change and paying out jackpots… socializing with coworkers and customers… listening to the cheezy band music… and my favorite? Collecting tips. Paying out jackpots usually led to a cash tip from the winner – the larger the jackpot, the larger the tip. On a good night, I could walk out with anywhere from $100 to $200. My best night, I walked out with $500. And this was all on top of the dollar-over-minimum-wage salary. Which included insurance, vacation pay, and a free meal each shift. Life was good.

The only downside was that Kevin had been switched to the morning shift, which meant we didn’t have as much time together. He was usually just leaving work as I was starting, and when I got off there seemed to be more and more times he was nowhere to be found. My partying was slowing down a little, and I didn’t really miss it. Although when Kevin did meet me at work, or when we both had some time off, we made up for lost hits by going on long benders.

I had finally spoken to Nancy, and a preliminary hearing had at last been set. She wanted to meet with me again the day before the hearing to go over what could (and probably would) happen. I made a mental note of the date and wrote it on the calendar Kevin and I kept to keep track of our shifts. It was only three weeks away, yet I pushed it out of my mind for the time being.

The day after I spoke to Nancy, I tried to distract myself at work by talking more and pushing the looming court date out of my mind. Kevin had also been frustrating me lately, he had been disappearing more frequently and for longer time periods – and playing the innocent when questioned.

“Just meeting Marc, honey,” he would say, as if that explained everything. Which it kind of did, since I knew what their “meetings” were about.

“But can’t you wait for me to get off work?” I would complain. “Or can’t you party here?”

“Relax, babe, I’ll take care of you, don’t worry,” he would tell me. “You got an extra twenty or so before you leave? Maybe I’ll have something waiting when you get home…”

And like a fool, I would hand over the cash and go off to work, rushing home afterwards only to find the room empty again. I started hanging out at the casino bar after my shift, talking and flirting and drinking for a few hours before returning to the loneliness of my motel room.

And that was where I met Tad.

Tad had sat down next to me that night and I barely gave him a second look. He was a middle-aged guy with a receding hairline and cheesy bling. I continued to talk to the bartender who had become a friend of mine as well as a coworker, when Tad interrupted.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

I looked at him with an amused smile and accepted. He seemed harmless enough, and actually, he was. He was friendly and entertaining and after several drinks, he invited me back to his room.

“Oh, I don’t think so, I have a boyfriend,” I told him with a shake of my head.

“Really?” he replied, taking a sip of his drink. “So where is he?”

“Oh, he’s at home,” I answered casually. “Waiting for me,” I added quickly, just in case this guy had other ideas.

“That’s a shame,” he said pulling out a business card. He handed it to me and I looked at it.

“TAD JOHNSON” and a phone number.

I laughed. “Pretty generic card,” I commented. “So, what is it you do?”

“Professional poker player,” he said proudly. “Damn good, too. Honey, I could take great care of you – you could live on an island in the Caribbean and never work another day in your life.”

My eyes sparkled with amusement at his outlandish offer. “I’m sure you could,” I responded, “but like I said, my boyfriend is waiting.”

He finished his drink and stood up. “Just as well,” he shrugged. “The tournament is picking up again and I have to go. Final table.”

He took my hand and kissed it with exaggeration. “Hold onto that card,” he said as turned to leave. “I’m leaving in the morning, but my offer still stands. Call me whenever.”

I raised my eyebrows and nodded. “Ok,” I said with mock seriousness, then saluted him as he walked away.

I finished my drink and returned home. And once again found the room empty. I fell asleep alone and in the morning, Kevin was sleeping next to me. I had forgotten he had the day off, and I hadn’t even heard him come in the night before. I watched him as he slept and tried to remember that he had been so good to me, and that I loved him. It was just getting harder now, because I felt as though he was slipping away. I promised myself that I would force him to talk to me, when we were both straight, and that we would work things out.

As I walked to work, I noticed the marquee had been changed. When I read it, my jaw dropped.

“CONGRATULATIONS TAD JOHNSON – ONE MILLION DOLLAR TEXAS HOLD ‘EM WORLD SERIES OF POKER CHAMPION 1992”

I reached into my pocket and felt the card that I had forgotten to take out the night before when I changed. I pulled it out and looked at the name on it, then again up at the marquee.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” I muttered under my breath.

I continued my walk to the casino, and stopped at a trash can outside the front doors. As I crumpled up the card and tossed it in with the other garbage, I wondered if I had managed to make a huge mistake the night before… I mean, who doesn’t love the Caribbean?

But the bottom line was, I loved the jerk who was sleeping at home even more. Even when he pissed me off. I went through my shift on autopilot, and couldn’t wait to get home to talk to Kevin. At exactly eleven, I punched out and practically ran home, anxious to talk to him and make things like they were before.

I could see the glow from the lights in our room, and Kevin’s car was sitting in its spot in front. He’s home! I thought happily. I could hear voices coming from inside as well. Oh, well, if Marc is here, I can just ask him to leave for a while.

But when I opened the door, the room was empty. The TV was still on, which was the source of the voices I heard. All the lights were on, and the closet was opened, as well as the drawers on the dressers and the desk. All the pipes and cooking utensils were gone.

I shook my head in frustration and anger. Someone must have picked him up and taken him out to party. I closed all the drawers, shut off the lights, and sat on the bed, determined to wait him out. I knew he had to work at 8:00 the next morning, he couldn’t stay out forever.

I fought the exhaustion as long as I could, then gave up. The next time I opened my eyes, it was 11:30 in the morning. I looked around, and nothing had changed. Kevin had never come home, and as far as I knew, he was missing work. I was furious. I paced the room, went outside and checked to see if the car’s engine was warm – thinking maybe he had come home and used it at some point. But it was still cold.

Eventually I had to calm my anger and get ready for work. I could still feel the rage pulsing in my head at Kevin for partying all night without me and then blowing off work as I walked out the front door.

“Some night last night, huh?”

I turned to see one of the other motel residents sitting in a lawn chair outside his front door. He was an older guy, who seemed to know everything but pretty much minded his own business. I looked at him curiously.

“Why? What do you mean?” I asked apprehensively.

“Well, when those police people came and knocked on your door, I knew there was gonna be trouble,” he drawled.

Police? My mind raced. I remembered the open closet, the rifled drawers… the missing paraphernalia…

“Then when they brought out those boys in cuffs, well, your boyfriend and his buddy looked none too happy,” he finished.

“In cuffs?” I asked dumbly.

“Yep. Took ‘em away with sirens flashing. Got most everyone out of their rooms to see what was going on.”

I leaned against the wall of the motel for support. Kevin was in jail. And most likely, so was Marc. And I would’ve been, too, had I not been at work. And here I was, cursing him out for not waiting for me.

Ironically, last night he apparently had. It just happened to be a bad night to do so.