The Lottery

by D. K. Wall

  He lowered his gaze to her waiting face. “We would have to work out something fair. I don’t want to take advantage.”

  “No, I know you don’t. And wouldn’t. That’s why we want you to do it.” She relaxed as if she had just won a contest. “Besides, my bet is if you ran that garage, I could convince my wayward son to run the store itself. He sits around in that awful trailer and feels sorry for himself. If you were here every day, he might just figure out he could run the store despite that chair.”

  Nathan averted his gaze toward the front of the store, not wanting to break Danny’s confidence by sharing how open he might be to the idea. “If Danny was running the store, what would Abe do?”

  Martha’s laughter rang like little bells, full of mirth. She pointed at the Liar’s Table, the old men sitting around gabbing, with cups of coffee in their hands. “Probably try to outdo all them with their fancy tales… until I tired of him underfoot and kicked him out to the garage with you. You know how happy he would be changing oil again?”

  His mind raced. “I want to. I really do. But I have to think about it. A lot.”

  “I wouldn’t expect anything else. Come back next week. After all of this craziness has died down”—Martha waved her arm at the crowd buying lottery tickets—“and you and Donna have figured out your way forward.”

  Nathan spied the clock on the wall over the deli, startled to see it was after noon. Apologizing as he explained he needed to leave, he rose to his feet. “I’m late to meet Danny, but I promise to come talk more.”

  Martha surprised him by wrapping her arms around him and hugging. “Try to get him to come with you next time. Would be great to have you boys in the store again.”

  17

  The door to Sammy’s Pub swung closed behind Nathan. He stopped to let his eyes adjust from the bright sunshine to the murky shadows. The view that came into focus was a near replica of the day before.

  Like a statue in a museum, Sammy occupied his usual space, arms crossed and back leaning against the mirrored display wall lined with liquor bottles behind the bar. He nodded a hello, the slightest tip of his head, as though Nathan had not been escorted out of the bar by a policeman the afternoon before.

  Two men—the same two as the day before and perched on the same stools, as if they had never left—squinted against the light from opposite ends of the bar. They made blurry eye contact with a greeting nod and then returned their gaze to the golden liquid in the mugs in front of them. They showed no sign of remembering his perp walk the day before. Or they didn’t care, too focused on whatever personal troubles kept them ensconced there.

  A scattering of people sat at tables toward the front, eating their lunches. Four guys shot pool in the rear of the bar, a cash bet stacked beside a pitcher of beer and four mugs. The bright flash of light from the door caused them to look up and nod a hello. All were three or four years younger and vaguely familiar from high school days, but he struggled to come up with their names.

  That was life in a small town. Everyone knew everyone, at least on a nodding basis, but Nathan was too mission focused to give them much thought.

  He spotted Danny at a table midway down the wall, far away enough from the others so that they could talk. He settled into a chair across from his friend and eyed the cold pitcher of beer and two frosted mugs before declaring, “I’m just drinking iced tea.”

  Danny’s eyes narrowed. “The only reason you would do that is if you planned to watch Jacob’s game. But since you promised to avoid contact, you wouldn’t be that stupid, would you?”

  The curse of a good friend—they always knew what one was thinking. Nathan leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms in defiance. “I promised to avoid contact before we met for lunch today. I’ve kept that promise, but I didn’t commit to anything more.”

  “And now you plan to just go waltzing into the park and get arrested in front of everyone for violating the restraining order?”

  “Getting arrested isn’t part of the plan.” Nathan locked gazes, a test to see who would back down first, but he lost and dropped his eyes. “I’m not going into the park, so no one will know I’m there. I’m going to drive up to the Point and then wander down through the woods until I find a good place where I can watch the game without being seen.”

  Danny lifted his mug and sipped as he studied Nathan’s face. With a sigh, he settled the glass back on the table, a thin streak of beer foam on his upper lip. “Then no one will smell your breath either, so having a beer wouldn’t matter.”

  Nathan’s body slumped into his chair as his arms unfolded and fell into his lap. He looked down at the table and shook his head, cursing under his breath. Of course Danny would figure out what he was planning.

  “Don’t screw this up, Nathan. No contact means no contact. You need to be a good boy.”

  “The Point. I promise. They won’t see me.”

  Danny drummed his fingers on the table, his eyes continuing to reflect doubt. After a while, he shrugged his shoulders. “Make sure they don’t.”

  Nathan reached for the pitcher and poured beer into the mug, the foam bubbling up and over the side of the glass. He sipped it, determined to have just the one. He was eager to find out what Danny had learned and then get to the game before the first pitch. “Did you see Donna?”

  “Yes.” Danny relaxed in his chair. “We had a good talk.”

  “So Hank wasn’t there?”

  “He was in the house, but he stayed out of the way so we could chat. She didn’t say it, but I got the impression she had asked him to give us room. He didn’t look too happy about it.”

  “Good for her. And I don’t care how unhappy he was.” Nathan chewed his lip. “Have they told Jacob anything yet?”

  “She talked to him on the phone last night but didn’t tell him anything about your issues. She plans to talk to him later about that.”

  “Just Donna?”

  “Yes. She was adamant about that. Hank won’t be there.”

  Nathan sipped the cold beer, feeling the liquid flow down his throat. He wasn’t sure which was more satisfying—the taste of the drink or the knowledge that Donna was managing Hank.

  After settling the mug back onto the table, he ran his finger along the ridge of his nose, feeling the same bone that was broken in Hank. “How did he look?”

  Danny’s serious look was shattered by a wry smile. “Like you knocked the crap out of him.”

  “Good.” He studied the wood grain on the table, his finger tracing the puddles of liquid. “And Donna? How bad is she hurt?”

  Danny’s smile faded as he shook his head. “She winced when she moved too quick and kept an arm wrapped around her chest. She tried to hide it, but I could tell she was in pain.”

  Nathan’s fingers hooked around the handle of the mug, and he rocked the bottom of the glass on the table, the liquid sloshing and foaming inside. He felt physically sick at the thought of having hurt his wife. “I feel horrible about that. I never meant to harm her.”

  “She knows that. She was more resigned to everything that was happening than mad about the fight. And she feels guilty you found out about them the way you did. She kept saying she should have told you.” Danny motioned to the jacket hanging off the chair at the end of the table. “Despite the pain from her ribs, she got up early this morning to pack your clothes in your duffel bag. She even washed your jacket. Said she was worried you might need it on chilly mornings. If she didn’t still care, she might have stuffed your clothes in the bag or even thrown them out on the lawn.”

  “But she still wants a divorce, right?”

  “She packed your clothes. She didn’t hang them in the closet, waiting for you to come home.” Danny flicked a piece of ice off the side of his mug and watched it melt on the table. “Besides, after knowing about Hank, would you really want to go back?”

  “Probably not. I would only go back if we decided staying together was best for Jacob.” Nathan drew beads of water around the table w
ith his finger. “Did she say anything about custody?”

  “We didn’t talk a lot about details, but she seems sure she will end up with custody.”

  Nathan’s voice raised. “But I caught her in bed with Hank.”

  Sammy and the two guys sitting at the bar glanced over. He glared at them, daring anyone to comment. They shifted their attention back to the sports announcers on the TVs over the bar.

  Danny leaned across the table and spoke quietly. “Yeah, and you broke his nose and Donna’s ribs. Call it a draw. You don’t play the adultery card, and they don’t play the domestic-violence card. I’m not even sure her cheating on you would have any impact on custody nowadays. But the good news is she wants to work this out so Jacob doesn’t have to hear all the dirt.”

  Nathan grimaced. “So he doesn’t find out his mom was having an affair, but he’ll know I hurt his mom?”

  “You really want him to know about the affair?”

  “No, of course not. But if you could see she was in pain, why won’t he? And how else is she going to explain it?”

  “She just said she’s hoping she doesn’t have to tell him.”

  “She’d do that?”

  Danny shrugged. “She’s going to try, but I don’t see how she can. She doesn’t want to make you out to be the bad guy. Not sure if that’s for you or for Jacob. Maybe it’s for both of you.”

  “Can she hide it at the game today? Or isn’t she going?”

  “No, she’ll definitely be there though she isn’t skulking through the woods to watch the game.” Danny rolled his eyes. “Matt and Colette are bringing a picnic lunch, and they’re all going to sit together. Her plan is to sit real still in a chair and hope he doesn’t notice.”

  Nathan’s head popped up. “So Hank will be with them? How does Jacob not figure things out from that?”

  “The boys will just think of him as Luke’s uncle. Nothing else.” Danny waited to see Nathan nod agreement before continuing softly, “She’ll tell Jacob he gets to spend another night with Luke and then come home Sunday afternoon. That’ll give her time to plan out what to say. She’ll call me tonight or tomorrow morning with details before she does anything. After she talks to him, she’ll have him call you to give you time with him. She wants to make sure you both are telling him the same thing.”

  “That’s fair.” Nathan hung his head. “This whole thing sucks, but I understand how she’s handling it. You don’t know how much it hurts not to be able to see him, to talk to him.”

  “No, you’re right—I don’t have a clue. But I can tell, sitting there and talking to her, Donna really wants this to work out as well as it can. Whatever that means.”

  Sammy delivered a platter of Nachos Deluxe, the same gastroabomination they had eaten the previous afternoon. Nathan thought about his pledge to eat better and lose a little weight but decided he had bigger issues to face first. With a shrug, he scooped a nacho full of cheese and beans from the plate and chased it down with a sip of beer. “So you didn’t get a chance to talk specifics about custody? Guess maybe he stays with me on weekends and with her during the week? Maybe I stop by and pick him up for school? Poor kid, having to bounce between two homes.”

  Danny’s hand paused in midair, his reach for the food frozen. He slumped back in his chair and sighed. “That’s where things went south.”

  Nathan paused with a chip in his hand, cheese dripping off and landing on the table. “What did she say?”

  “Not her.” Danny hesitated and chewed his lip. “Hank.”

  “What does he have to do with it? I thought he wasn’t part of the conversation.”

  “Just relax and listen a second.” Danny took a big gulp of beer and swallowed hard. He leaned forward and propped his elbows on the table. “This was after. I thought everything was good, and I was getting into the van. Donna went back inside, but Hank came around the house and caught me before I drove off.”

  “Spill it. What did he say?”

  Another big sigh. “Right after the school year ends, they’re moving with him to Atlanta.”

  Numbness spread from Nathan’s chest into his arms and legs. The sound of the TV blaring behind the bar disappeared into a buzzing in his head. “Why can’t Hank move here?”

  “He works there for that security company. He can’t do that from here.”

  “What about Jacob’s friends? And baseball?”

  “He’s young. He’ll make new friends down there. And the school he’ll go to has a great baseball program. Hank said it was one of the best in Georgia.”

  Nathan’s body tensed, and his blood pressure rose. His hands around the beer mug trembled. “So, what does that mean? How often will I see Jacob?”

  “He didn’t say. I was so stunned because none of this came up when I was talking to Donna. But let’s be real: Jacob isn’t going to travel up here every week. He isn’t going to want to. He’ll be a teenager and want to hang out with his friends on weekends. So I’d guess maybe a weekend a month. A couple of weeks in the summer.”

  In a measured voice, Nathan whispered, “They aren’t taking my son away from me. I won’t let them. I’ll fight it.”

  “With what? If you take it to court, they’ll press the domestic violence charges and paint you as dangerous. Then, not only will you not have custody, but you won’t even have visitation rights.”

  Nathan stared at the table and fumed, his hands gripped tightly around the glass. “So, what are you saying? I just let them take him?”

  “No.” Danny studied the tabled for several minutes. “Let me talk to Donna again. I’m missing something. I walked out of the house feeling good about everything, and then Hank threw me that curveball. I should have just gone back in right then and confronted her, but I didn’t know what to say. That’s on me.”

  Nathan raised his head and opened his mouth to reply, but they were interrupted as the four guys who had been playing pool walked past the table.

  One of them smiled and said, “The Fearsome Foursome.”

  Though they looked up, startled, and started to shoo him away, he didn’t give them a chance. “You’re Nathan Thomas, and you’re Danny Morgan, right?” As they nodded, he continued to babble. “I’m Chet Everswood. Went to Millerton High two years behind Matt Saunders, so I guess that was three years behind you, but I got to play football with him his senior year. I watched you guys beat Roosevelt High your last game. That was one mean hit you put on Ricky Ward that last play. Never forget that night.”

  Nathan and Danny exchanged glances. “Neither will we.”

  Chet’s face reddened as he realized the significance of that date. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I forgot, that was the night that Charlie Mills died, wasn’t it?”

  Danny leaned back in his wheelchair and stared at Chet, whose face reddened even more.

  The man’s eyes roamed across the table, anywhere to avoid looking at the wheelchair as he stammered, “Anyway, Matt’s older brother, Hank, was the fourth, right?” As they exchanged glances, Chet babbled on. “Did you hear about what happened to him?”

  Nathan squinted his eyes. “Hear what?”

  “He got lucky.”

  Nathan’s face reddened, and he locked eyes with the interloper. His voice came out in a deep-throated growl. “What do you mean lucky?”

  Chet took a step back, confusion spreading on his face at Nathan’s menace. “The lottery. He’s the big winner.”

  Nathan sat stunned for several seconds until his anger mushroomed. He rose to his feet and glared at Chet. “You’re saying Hank Saunders had the winning ticket? The one bought at Abe’s Market?”

  Chet took another step back and glanced toward the bar. Sammy wasn’t leaning anymore but standing and watching the exchange, ready to intervene.

  Chet licked his lips and said, “Man, I’m sorry. Thought you would be happy for him.”

  “You sure he won?”

  “Yeah, I just got off the phone with Matt. Hank didn’t even think to check his tickets unti
l just a bit ago. Can you imagine? With the news floating around town that someone local won everything, and he didn’t even look. Must be good money in that security job to not check the ticket right away, or he was really distracted this morning. What kind of idiot doesn’t check? I was looking at mine first thing this morning. Anyway, he saw he won and called Matt.”

  Nathan’s face flushed as he collapsed back into his chair. Chet spread his hands wide as he stood awkwardly at the end of the table, confusion etched into his face. He backed away from the table, shaking his head, turned, and walked out the door with his friends.

  The closing door blotted out the sun as it banged shut. They sat in stunned silence, neither able to speak, until Nathan exploded in movement. He reached across the table and grabbed his jacket. He dragged it across the table, jostling beer out of his glass, and shoved his hand in the front pocket. Empty. He checked the other pockets. Empty.

  He looked at Danny. “The coat’s clean.”

  Danny had been startled at the sudden movement and grabbed a napkin to mop up the spilled beer. “Yeah. Donna said she cleaned it. So what?”

  “They stole it.”

  Danny stopped wiping and stared at Nathan, beer dripping from the soaked napkin. “Who stole what?”

  Nathan’s face flushed as he shook his jacket. “My lottery ticket was in here. She cleaned it. So she found the ticket. And she gave it to him.”

  Danny’s mouth gaped open, and his eyes widened. “Nathan, you don’t know that. Maybe she washed it. How would she even know you had a lottery ticket? You never buy the things.”

  “Donna does everything just so. You’ve seen our house.” Nathan crumpled the jacket in the empty chair beside him. “She always empties the pockets before washing to protect her washer from all the crap Jacob lugs home, so she would have found my lottery ticket. They figured out it was the winner and kept it.”