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Because I didn’t trust her, I checked her fridge, saw that it was empty, as she said. She then held out her hand as if I’d pull a wad of cash from my wallet and hand it over. Instead, I told her if she wanted groceries, we’d be going shopping together. I wanted to ensure the money went to actual food and staples, not cigarettes or liquor.
Now we were on the way to the store, a fifteen-minute ride back into town from the foothills where they lived. My dad was left behind, in his recliner with a late afternoon talk show on the TV. He’d turned away from the programming and his beer long enough to say hi.
“Probably,” I replied. “Why are you short again?”
She huffed, then looked at me. The waft of liquor came from her breath. I didn’t turn my head from the road but winced at the odor that mixed with the smoke clinging to her clothes.
“Because you didn’t pay to have the car fixed.”
“Neither did you, from your text. Only a small portion.”
“Well,” she began, grabbing her purse by her feet. She pulled out her pack of cigarettes.
“No smoking,” I said.
Another huff and she put them back.
“Well?” I prompted.
“I quit my job.”
I blinked, death gripped the steering wheel, then took a deep breath. “Why? Was your boss handsy like the last one?”
I wasn’t for asshole employers, but in Cheryl’s case, frequently when she quit over the years, she pulled out that excuse. Now I was never sure if she cried wolf or not.
“No. I won at nickel slots at the casino on the reservation.”
I glanced her way for a second, then back on the road, slowing for a curve. “You gambled? While you don’t have money and make me pay your rent and car repair bills?”
She waved her hand. “I won ten thousand dollars so I didn’t need that job any longer.”
I was stunned. That was a lot of money for playing the slots.
“Then why am I taking you to get groceries?”
“I told you you didn’t have to. I’d be at home right now with my drinky-poo and you’d be off living your life like you always do.”
“No, you told me to just give you money,” I said, diplomatically as possible. “Why do you need it from me if you made ten thousand dollars? That will pay the car bill, plus your rent and groceries for the next six months.”
“Because I lost it all.”
I slowed, then pulled off onto the shoulder. Now I could give Cheryl my complete attention because I thought she said she lost it all. “Youlostit all?”
She nodded. Her blonde hair, which used to be the same shade as mine, was in need of a root touchup and gray coverage. Between her drinking and smoking, she was weathered and rough looking for her age. I had to wonder how sober she was right now, especially if she wasn’t working.
I remembered when she was beautiful, but she’d always been mean spirited. Self-centered.
“I lost it playing craps.”
“You gambled away allten thousand dollars?”
“The table was hot! Then some bitch in high heels blew on the dice and the luck changed.”
I stared at her wide eyed. She was serious.
“You’re blaming your loss of all that money on a bitch in high heels? It’s not her fault! It’s yours!”
“The table was hot until she walked up.”
