Crumbled to Pieces

by Catherine Bruns

  She slid into a chair at the end of a row of machines. This particular one had a giant lobster featured on the screen. In fascination, I watched as she withdrew a twenty-dollar bill from her wallet and inserted it into the machine.

  "This looks like a fun one." Josie glanced up at me. "Aren't you going to play?"

  "No. I'm not any good at gambling." What I didn't add was that I worked too hard for my money and had no desire to feed it into one of these useless machines. To each his own. If they made Josie happy, so be it.

  Josie selected the maximum bet. "See, that's the way to win." She gave a proud toss of her head. "If you want to hit the jackpot, you have to play the max. My mother-in-law taught me that. We once went to a casino back home, and she was playing this game with cans of Spam that—"

  I barked out a laugh, interrupting her explanation. "Cans of Spam? What will they think of next?"

  "Anyhow." Josie punched the button again. "Linda didn't want to take any more money out on her credit card, and I didn't have cash on me. So she decided to play the money out for the last round. And what do you think happened? She had five cans of Spam come up right in a row, without having the maximum bet. So instead of winning $3200 dollars, she won a lousy hundred bucks."

  "Well, I'd never play that game," I remarked. "I hate Spam."

  Josie gave me a look like I had a giant can of Spam sitting on top of my head. She became distracted when three lobsters came up in a row on the machine. "Ooh, I got the bonus round!"

  I watched with interest as a fisherman in a yellow raincoat appeared in the water, and Josie received four tries at picking a lobster pot. We both waited as he lifted fish out of them, and Josie's point total kept increasing on the screen with each pot. She ended up winning thirty dollars.

  "This is awesome," she squealed with excitement.

  "Okay, quit now while you're ahead," I urged.

  "Are you nuts?" she asked. "This means I'm going to hit an even bigger jackpot."

  Yeah, okay. "All right, fine. I'm going to check a few tables to see if I spot Violet."

  "Sure." Josie was clearly disinterested and went back to obsessing about lobsters. "Good luck."

  It appeared that I was on my own for a while. "You too." I walked through the casino, waving away the smoke with my hands. Ugh. We should have gone in the smoke-free section, but she'd told me on the plane that no one ever won there. Hey, what did I know? There were several craps tables, and I stopped for a moment to watch a woman spin a roulette wheel. She had an enormous pile of chips in front of her, and when it landed on a red number, everyone around her screamed. The dealer pushed another tower of chips toward her.

  I wandered farther throughout the casino, past a bar where people were drinking and watching a baseball game. The Yankees and the Red Sox were playing in Fenway Park. There was no one anywhere who resembled Violet. I found a table where a dealer was alone, counting cards, and approached him. "Hi. Could I ask you a question?"

  "Sorry, miss, this table is closed for the evening."

  "Oh, that's not why I'm here." I took the picture out of my purse. "I was wondering if you knew this woman. Her name is Violet, and she works here as a dealer."

  He took the picture from my outstretched hands, studied it carefully, then let out a low whistle. "Never seen her before. But let me assure you that if I had, I'd have asked her out by now." He gave me a sly wink. "I kind of have a way with women."

  I couldn't help thinking that Al, as his nametag identified him, looked a little bit like one of the lobsters in Josie's game, with his bald head, red flushed skin, and enormous hands enhanced by fingernails in desperate need of a trim. "Uh, sure. I'll bet you do."

  He leaned across the table. "I get off work in five minutes. How about a drink, babe?"

  Ew. "Thanks for the offer, but I'll pass."

  Al shrugged. "Your loss."

  Good grief. What was with this place? I wandered over in the direction of the ladies' room and pulled out my phone. It was almost nine o'clock, midnight in New York. Mike must surely be home by now. I had called him when we landed, but he hadn't picked up, so I'd left a voice mail instead. I pushed the button for his number, and he answered on the fourth ring.

  "Hi, princess." His voice sounded sleepy.

  "Did I wake you?"

  Mike yawned noisily into the phone. "That's okay. I'm glad you called. I was sitting here watching the ballgame and must have drifted off."

  "Poor baby," I purred into the phone. "How's the renovation going?"

  He yawned again. "I think I'll make the deadline. And it's all thanks to Trevor. He's really been a huge help. I may decide to hire him on full-time."

  Trevor Parks was new to Colwestern and had answered Mike's newspaper ad for a part-time helper a couple of weeks back. He was about forty, intelligent, and mild mannered. Mike had brought him into the bakery one day last week when they'd stopped in for a midday sugar fix. He was similar to Mike in both height and build, and my husband remarked he did the work of two men.

  "That's great. I'm so glad you finally have someone you can rely on."

  "Trevor's planning to stay in Colwestern so I should be able to start on expanding your bakery sometime next month."

  "There's no rush." I'd wanted to put in a lunch menu for quite a while and increase the main room's seating, but if I was pregnant, that would change things. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to hold off for a year or two. It was going to be tough enough to juggle both the baby and the bakery, and my priority, of course, would be the baby. But I also didn't want to leave any more of the shop's work on Josie's capable shoulders.

  He chuckled into the phone. "Well, that's a new one. You've been dying for me to get that expansion done. Why the sudden change?"

  "Oh, I don't know." I giggled. "There are some things more important than the bakery, like my handsome husband for one."

  His voice became low and husky. "I miss you so much. I can't wait until we go away for our anniversary next weekend."

  "Aha. So you have been making plans without me," I teased.

  "Guilty as charged. But I know you're going to love it and be surprised big-time. This is one place you probably haven't even thought of—well, not for a while, anyway."

  Now he had me intrigued. "It sounds wonderful."

  "No, you're wonderful."

  Tears came into my eyes, and I was tempted to tell him my news then decided I should wait until I was one hundred percent certain. Besides, I wanted to do it in person. "Go get some sleep, okay?"

  Mike yawned again. "How's the investigating going?"

  I hesitated. "It's been interesting, to say the least. I'll tell you more about it on Sunday when I get home."

  "Okay. Love you, princess."

  "Love you too." I clicked off and, after a couple of wrong turns, found the section where Josie had been playing. She was still at the same machine, and I noticed the screen said she had a total of twenty dollars. "Hey, that's not so bad. You've only lost ten dollars since I've been gone."

  She gave me a sour look. "I've put in two more twenties since then."

  Ouch. "Jeez, don't give all your money away."

  "Oh, it's fun," she insisted and knocked on the glass screen. "Come on, bonus round."

  "What did you do that for?" I asked, mystified.

  Josie shot me an impatient glare. "It's for luck. Jeez, don't you know anything about gambling?"

  Apparently not. "Look, I'm tired. Do you want to walk back to the Tropicana with me?"

  "Aw, we just got here," she protested. "It's only nine o'clock."

  I shifted my purse on my shoulder. "Correction—it's midnight, back home anyway. I want to be over at Violet's by nine in the morning so we can catch her."

  "Have a drink with me first," she pleaded. "My treat."

  "Aren't they free in the casino?"

  She punched the button in frustration. "Oh, come on! Give me ten minutes."

  "Okay, fine." I didn't want any alcohol, though. "A Coke so
unds good."

  "Coming right up," Josie said cheerfully and pointed at a voluptuous-looking, dark-headed waitress who had her back to us. I couldn't believe the skimpy outfits they made the servers wear. The sheer black dress barely covered her rear and had tiny spaghetti straps holding the top in place. The woman handed a beer to a man who was facing me. It was obvious he was staring at the woman's chest instead of the Wheel of Fortune machine he was playing. Pervert.

  He handed her a five and licked his lips. "Keep it, doll."

  I glanced down at the woman's legs. They were shapely in the black fishnet stockings, but just staring at the five-inch stiletto heels she wore was enough to make my feet hurt. Sure, the waitresses probably made great tips here, but who wanted to be ogled like that every day? The guy reminded me of my father in stature and size. Dad was a lot of things, but at least he'd never leer at another woman.

  "Excuse me, miss," I called out.

  "What can I get you?" The waitress whirled around, and I shrieked.

  It was my mother.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Mom was the first one of us to recover from the shock. "Hello, darling! Oh my goodness. What a nice surprise!" She threw her arms around me and kissed my cheek.

  Josie turned around from the machine, her jaw almost level with the floor. "Maria?"

  Mom gave Josie a hug. "How are the kids doing, dear?"

  Finally I found my voice. "Mom! How—where—what are you doing here?"

  My mother beamed and twirled around in her outfit. "Don't I look great? You wouldn't believe the money I've been making."

  I must be hallucinating. There was no other explanation. What had the restaurant put in my chocolate shake? I reached out to grab her by the arm and pulled her closer. "Why are you here? Where's Dad? Is this some fantasy related to his book that you're both acting out?"

  She giggled. "Of course not, silly. Your father's here in the casino too. He's at one of the high ante-up poker tables with Steve Steadman."

  The name was familiar. "Why do I know that name?"

  My mother gave a small sigh of exasperation. "Oh, honey. You've been sniffing too much vanilla in the bakery. Your father said he told you about Steve. He's a literary agent your father wants to reel in—you know, solicit his book to potential publishers. I swear, I don't know what's the matter with both you and your sister these days." She perched her hands on her slim hips and addressed Josie, her back to me. "You tell your kids something, and then it goes right out of their heads five minutes later."

  Josie's mouth curved into a smile as she glanced over my mother at me. "This is unreal."

  True. It could only happen to me.

  "Your mom and Mrs. Gavelli are here with us too," Josie said.

  "Really?" Mom scanned the crowded room, her head moving from side to side. "Where are they?"

  Josie got to her feet and collected her voucher from the machine. "I'm not exactly sure, but I doubt they went far."

  "Steve's been very nice to me when I go over to his table," Mom said. "For some reason, he won't chat with your father about the book. Maybe he's just shy."

  Good grief. "Mom, this doesn't explain why you're serving drinks inside a casino in that…outfit." For a lack of more suitable words, I went with that one.

  "I'm part of the bait," she said proudly. "We decided I should try to get a job here so I could chat with Mr. Steadman. This was before your father knew that the table Steve was playing at was open to anyone. As it turns out, the casino fired two waitresses today, and the manager took an instant shine to me. He said I could start right away."

  "It's kind of like being in The Twilight Zone, isn't it?" Josie asked me.

  Mom went on. "That Steve is so sweet. He talks to me every time I go over to take drink orders. And he drinks a lot, let me tell you. Steve even asked if I wanted to go to a party with him later—he said it's being held in his room. Your father and I will drop by to chat about the book and have a rum and Coke with him." She handed said drink to Josie and then offered me one.

  "Just the Coke part for me, thanks. Uh, Mom, I'm kind of guessing that there is no party in his room. He probably wants you to be the party."

  She waved her hand and blushed. "Don't be ridiculous, honey. He's so taken with your father. I mean, who wouldn't be?"

  Yeah, right. I scanned the room. "Where exactly is this table?"

  She gestured with her hand across the room. "See the one that's near the bar? No, over to the left. There he is, playing at the opposite end from Mr. Steadman." As she pointed, my father happened to look over in our direction and gave us a thumbs-up. He was wearing a New York Giants white T-shirt, and even from this distance, I could see a visible stain on its chest. His leg dangled to the side of the table, and I winced at the sight. He was wearing blue shorts of a mesh material, white tube socks that ran halfway up his hairy legs, and black sandals.

  "Doesn't he look great?" My mother beamed with pride and then pointed to the other end of the table. "There's Steve."

  Josie and I both stared at the man with curiosity. Steve was wearing a beige Stetson and a blue-and-white-striped Oxford shirt with navy slacks. A matching suit coat was draped over the back of his chair. His blondish-brown mustache twitched back and forth as he scanned the cards in his hand. He happened to glance up and looked over in our direction. His tanned face brightened when he saw my mother, and he crooked his little finger at her.

  Mom started to push her cart in his direction and gave us a little wave. "We're on the tenth floor here. Come and meet us for dinner tomorrow at five. Bye, sweetheart! Give your grandmother my love!"

  "Mom, wait!" But she only waved again as she continued to push the cart effortlessly and efficiently through the crowd. I hated to admit it, but I was impressed. Perhaps my mother had finally found a job she was well suited for. I watched as she went to stand next to Mr. Steadman. He put his arm around her and whispered something in her ear.

  Yeah, he's shy all right. "What is she doing?" I squeaked.

  Josie watched them with interest. "Don't worry, Sal. Your father won't let anything happen to her. Well, if he gets a book deal out of it, that is."

  I was still trying to take this all in. "My father said something about the literary agent living in Nevada, but what are the odds that he…that they…" I couldn't finish the sentence.

  Josie slung an arm around my shoulders and echoed my thoughts from earlier. "Yep, it could only happen to you."

  "Sally," a voice called from behind us, and we turned to see my grandmother and Nicoletta approaching. Nicoletta waved a large bundle of bills in her hand.

  "You won?" Josie choked out. "How much?"

  Nicoletta gave us a superior smile. "I win cool grand. I sit down at slot machine, and first time I push button, all the bells go off."

  "This is nuts," Josie said in disbelief.

  "I am tired," Grandma Rosa said. "Would you like to walk back to the hotel with us?"

  Nicoletta fanned herself with the bills. "We go. It always good to leave when ahead."

  I cocked an eyebrow at Josie in response. "What did I tell you?"

  Her shoulders sagged. "Oh, fine. Whatever."

  "Grandma, can you see who that is over there?" I asked, pointing at the poker table.

  Grandma Rosa squinted across the room. My father was shouting something as the dealer handed him a stack of chips and had managed to attract the attention of everyone around him.

  My grandmother grimaced. "My eyes are old, and they must be playing treats on me."

  This was a new one. "Tricks, Grandma."

  Grandma Rosa's voice rose an octave, something that hardly ever happened. "Is that your father playing cards? And my very own daughter serving him drinks in that…outfit?"

  "It is slutty dress," Nicoletta declared.

  My grandmother shot her a deathly look. "You watch what you say about my daughter, pazza. Maria is no tramp. She just does not think some days. Okay, most days." She turned to me. "I would ask why they ar
e here, but it must have something to do with the ridiculous pile of paper your father calls a book."

  "You guessed it," I said.

  Grandma Rosa shook her head. "That man. He is another one who does not think some days. Perhaps that is why they get on so well. I will call Maria in the morning. Let us go now. The smoke in here is making me ill."

  As we made our way out of the casino, I glanced back in my parents' direction one last time. Steve Steadman had his arm around my mother's waist as she stood between him and my father, who had managed to move a seat closer to the agent. Like a cat, he was getting ready to pounce. I didn't appreciate the way this Steve character was eyeing my mother, but I still felt kind of sorry for the man. He had no idea who he was up against.

  We walked back to our hotel. The strip was crowded even though it was almost ten o'clock. Like New York City, Vegas never seemed to sleep. The air was still warm and moist, and I missed Mike as I snapped more pictures of the surrounding hotels lit up against the night sky. He'd have been fascinated with the designs and would have wanted to know more about their structure.

  A man was stationed on each side of the Strip, handing out some type of fliers to passersby. One of them pressed a card into my hand and Josie's before we could object. Nicoletta took one and immediately gasped out loud.

  "What you give me this for? You some kind of sicko?" she shrieked at the man. As we all watched, she walked over to him and pelted his arm with her leather bag. Then she started to cuss at him in Italian.

  "Whoa! Take it easy, lady! Did you just get off the boat?" The man backed away from Nicoletta with his hands covering his face, an effort to defend himself.

  Grandma Rosa dragged Nicoletta away. "What is the matter with you? You cannot go around hitting people like that."

  Nicoletta waved the card in my grandmother's face. "He give me dirty picture of woman. I sue."

  "It's part of his job," Josie laughed. "There are escort services all over the place here. You'll be lucky if he doesn't try to sue you for hitting him. What you did can be construed as assault."