He nods with a wide grin, so I take a step closer to him.
“I was hoping you could help me play some craps here,” he gestures toward the long oval table in front of him.
His clothes are reminiscent of Steve McQueen from The Magnificent Seven—very cool cowboy, with a faded pink denim button-down, tan pants, and matching cowboy hat.
“My wife is off getting her hair done, and I have no one to play with.” He looks down before meeting my eyes. “Would you mind being an old man’s good luck charm?”
I can’t help but laugh. “I don’t even know how to play.”
He smiles, waving me off. “That doesn’t matter. I do, and I’d like to teach ya if you’re interested.” His voice is thick with country and I find it oddly comforting.
I shrug. “Sure. Why not?” I sidle up next to him and pull out four hundred dollars from my wallet, handing it to the dealer to change out. It’s a fifty-dollar minimum, which is a little—or a lot—rich for my blood, but I’ll give it a go.
The guy, whose name I learn is Mo, gives me the rundown on how to play, so we both place a fifty-dollar chip on the pass line, and then he hands me the dice.
“Me?” I ask, feeling a little nervous.
“Yes, you,” he nods firmly. “You’re my good luck charm today, remember?”
“No pressure then,” I half-laugh.
“Just toss the dice down in that direction,” he points to the far end of the table. “And don’t worry about anything else.”
I roll the dice around in my hand a few times, and then do as Mo instructed. The dice hit the green felt wall and then bounce back in opposite directions on the table.
“Seven,” the dealer calls out, and Mo is beaming at me.
“Is that good?” He may have given me an overview, but there are a million rules to this game, and I’ve already forgotten most of them.
“That’s good, cookie. We just won.”
My eyes widen as the lady places more chips in front of the ones I had already put down. Mo stacks his winnings on top of his initial bet, so I do the same. The dealer slides the dice to me and we go again.
“Eleven. Winner.”
Holy crap. That’s twice. More chips and once again, Mo stacks his winnings. We both have a rather large pile building here. “What’s your name, cookie?”
“Kate.”
He looks at me with a smile, but there’s familiar sadness in his eyes. “How old are you, Kate?”
“Twenty-seven.” I’m searching his face, trying to figure out why he looks like a mirror.
“You look just like my daughter did.” And there it is. That one word. Did. Mo and I have a shared pain.
“How old was she?” I don’t even need to clarify my question. He knows what I’m asking him.
“Seventeen. Prom night. Drunk driver.” His words are somber, but the soft smile on his lips gives the impression that it’s always there when he thinks about his daughter. “Yours?” So he’s observant as well.
I swallow hard then blink twice. “Almost three. Drunk driver.”
He shakes his head, the smile slipping from his thin lips. “A baby.”
I toss the dice in my hand, needing the distraction.
“Eight.”
Mo and I fall into silence for a moment, letting the game lead us. I put money behind the pass line—the same as him—and more money on six. I don’t even want to think about how much I have in play on this table right now.
“What was your daughter’s name?” I ask, while the dealer does her thing with the new people joining the table on the other end.
“Chloe. She was my angel. Now she’s up in heaven.” He looks up at the ceiling and smiles again. “Yours?”
“Maggie,” I swallow again, suddenly needing to ask a very personal question to a total stranger. “How did you…?” I can’t even finish my words.
“Get through it?”
God, this guy just knows me. I nod.
“Well, cookie,” he touches the brim of his cowboy hat, sliding his finger back and forth across it. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I still struggle with it, and I know I always will.” The dealer slides me the dice again and I reach forward to retrieve them. “But it took me finally accepting that there are things in this world I cannot change. Death being one of them. And that I was beyond blessed to have had her at all.” He doesn’t rush me. No one does. Mo just continues to talk while I hold onto the dice for a moment, rolling them in my hand. “Now when I think about Chloe, I focus on the happiness her brief life brought me. Not the sorrow of her loss.”
I nod, understanding but not fully on the same page. When I think about Maggie and Eric, I still feel the heartbreak of their loss. It’s true, though, I am missing out on remembering the joy of their lives.
I throw the dice down the table.
“Six,” the dealer declares, and the people down on the other end of the table cheer, as does Mo.
“We won again, cookie,” Mo looks at me with his sparkling blue eyes and easy smile. “I think you are my good luck charm after all.” His expression turns serious. “And maybe I can be yours, too.”
“I think you are, Mo,” I smile, pick up my chips that I just won and toss the dice again. This pattern continues—us winning—for the next twenty minutes. I have no idea how much money Mo and I won, but the two guys at the other end of the table have been hollering and cheering and singing my praises. All four of us are laughing and smiling, because this is just fun.
Winning always is.
Eventually, I crap out, which is fine. It’s scary to think how far this could go and how easily my head would swell with it. But after I do crap out, I place a hundred-dollar chip on snake eyes.
“That’s a sucker’s bet, cookie,” Mo warns me.
I nod my head in acknowledgment. Thirty-one to one odds is a sucker’s bet. But Maggie was two when she died, and for some reason, I want to bet on that. The guy down at the far end picks up the dice and tosses them, and as they fly across the table I shut my eyes, picturing Maggie’s sweet smiling face.
Maggie was always smiling.
That girl had no shortage of happiness.
When the shouting erupts, I don’t notice right away that it is for me until someone shakes me. “Holy shit, you just won over three thousand dollars,” one of the guys who was playing on the other end of the table, says. He’s smiling with wide, excited, brown eyes.
“You did it, cookie!” Mo pulls me in for a hug, which would be strange if we hadn’t just shared way more than most strangers do in under thirty minutes. “Remember, the key is to find your happiness in the life you shared with her.” I don’t reply, I just hug him back and then release him. “You take care of yourself now. Find your peace with what’s done and live your life. That’s all any of us can do in this short go-around that we get.”
“Thanks, Mo. You’re something very special.”
He smiles, pats my cheek like my grandmother used to, and leaves to go find his wife.
Someone hands me my chips and I silently walk away, far too stunned to react the way they want me to. I have no idea how much money in chips I’ve stuffed into my bag, but I think it’s a lot. My phone buzzes in my back pocket as I wander past some dinging slots, but I’m not ready to answer it. I want more of this moment of suspended time.