Dad’s upbeat mood from the morning has petered out. When I walk through the door, he’s on the couch flipping through the channels.
“Hey, Dad. How’d it go?” I feel like a parent asking their child about the first day of school.
He continues to flip channels. “Aw, it was alright. It’s a job.” His enthusiasm is lacking.
“Well, guess what?” I begin enthusiastically, trying to change the energy.
“What?” Dad says.
I plop down beside him.
“I got a job too.”
This news causes him to actually look in my direction.
“You did? Where?”
“At the Mexican restaurant down the street. I guess they’re in desperate need of help because the manager told me I could start hostess training tomorrow.”
“Well honey, that’s great. We’ll be rolling in it before too long with two paychecks coming in.”
Reality check.
“I don’t think we’ll be rolling in it, but hopefully we can get caught up on some bills soon.”
He stares at me. For an uncomfortable amount of time.
“I’m really proud of you,” he says.
What? Did he really just say he was proud of me?
“Thanks, Dad.” I force the words from my mouth. “I’m proud of you too, Dad.”
__________
Three weeks later, my boss hands me my first paycheck, and I look for the printed numbers immediately. $214.36.
I’m ecstatic, to say the least.
I go straight to the bank to cash it. Although it’s money already spent, it feels so nice, these two $100 bills in my hands. It triggers the memories of a big win, and the rush of having stacks of money in my purse. It’s the equivalent of an alcoholic taking that one little sip. The one little, dangerous sip that sends everything spiraling.
Then, even though I shouldn’t, I do it.
I go to the library.
I Google it.
I find it.
I make a plan in my head, but push it back out and make the thought go away.
That night, I can’t sleep. I try deep-breathing. I flip my pillow to the cold side a million times. I stare at the clock in disbelief that it’s one thirty in the morning, and I haven’t fallen asleep yet.
I drink a glass of milk.
I rub my own shoulders.
I count sheep.
I think about my new job.
Nothing’s working.
I give up.
I put on a baseball cap and tiptoe through the house.
And some time later, at two o’clock in the morning, I find myself walking into a new, different casino.
Looking for something.