by K. M. Liss
I buy in, and with my $500 worth of chips, I go to the Black Jack table first.
There's a young girl dealing the cards. I sit and wait to be dealt in.
She approaches me.
“Wanna play, mister?”
“Yeah, please.” She deals my cards. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, go ahead,”
“D'you know a Miss Denton?”
“Yeah, everyone knows Bambi. She taught me all I know.”
“D'you have her cell number?”
“I can't give you her number.” She laughs.
“No, I know that. Of course you can't. Look, I'm seeing her daughter. But, due to a misunderstanding we split up a few days ago, and I don't have her new cell number. Can you text Bambi and tell her to pass on the message to Kate that Aaron is at Caesars Palace until tomorrow night. In the Octavian Tower, 6th floor, room, 611.”
“I shouldn't text while I'm working, but okay, you seem like a nice guy,” she says with a smile. “Gimme a minute though.”
She deals the round and then quickly whips her iPhone out of her pocket and taps out a message.
Please tell Kate that Aaron is staying at CP, 6th floor, Octavian, rm 611. Till tomrw night.
She shows me the message. “Okay?”
“Yep that's just great. Can you add my number, just in case she's lost it?”
I call it out and she taps it in and presses send.
“There. All done, honey.”
“Thanks, I really appreciate it.”
“You're welcome.”
I sit and play Black Jack for an hour. I bust four times, break twice, and have one small success and beat the dealer. I never win much if anything when I'm gambling. I move off to Roulette when I'm down to my last $100. If I'm honest, I'm not really enjoying this much on my own. I might as well throw it all away on the wheel as anywhere.
In the event, it doesn't take long. In ten minutes I'm broke.
Fucking typical.
It would have been nice to have one good thing happen. I didn't expect the jackpot but a small win would have been a boost to my mood. I'm sensing things are not gonna go my way.
I go through reception and leave a message at the desk that Miss Denton may be visiting, possibly. I'm now at a loose end. Feeling fed up and more than a touch frustrated. I traipse back upstairs to my room.
I'm not tired, but don't want to hang out on my own getting trashed in a bar. I can do that in my room, if I really want to, which I don't. Not after last night's bender.
I crash on my bed and choose a movie on the pay channels, settling down to watch it. I've seen it countless times but for some strange reason I love watching Avatar. It inspires me. The disabled hero finding a new life. I'm right there with him as he flies his dragon above the beautiful Pandora landscape alongside his blue alien lover. It's a very long movie as well. It'll pass the time away. I have a beer half way through and keep looking at my iPhone far too often for my own good.
Nothing yet.
Fuck. I'm losing hope fast.
Getting the complete cold shoulder message.
HER
I simply cannot believe my bad luck.
I'm sitting in Summerlin Hospital Emergency department with Brendan. It seems I've broken my left arm in two places tripping down the steps in a bar in Flamingo on my sky-high heels. I can't even blame it on drink because I'd only just got there. So much for my great evening out, looking like a million dollars. It finished before it started.
I'm waiting to be plastered up. For a whole month I have to wear a cast over my pretty rose tattoo. I hope it's not ruined because I won't be able to put any Bepanthen cream on it like I'm supposed to.
Brendan laughs at me, yet again. At least my accident has broken the ice between us.
“It's not funny, buster, it aches like hell,” I say with a pout.
“I'm sorry, but you should have seen you go. You were flying.” He takes great pleasure in reminding me of my dramatic topple.
“If you've gotta break something, do it in style, that's my motto.”
“Yeah, and that was some style. The guy you landed on top of was impressed with your style.”
I can't help it and laugh with him at the memory of the guy swearing his head off at me as I knocked him flying. The shaking of my body hurts my arm and I moan with the pain shooting along my shattered nerves.
My mom comes rushing in the door with Harry.
“Oh, baby, you poor thing.” She sits at my side and hugs me carefully.
“I told her Kels could be real bad news to go out with,” Bren jokes. My mom gives him a dark look.
“It's not Kelsey's fault, is it? It was a nasty accident, that's all. And she's hurting, aren't you, sweetheart?”
“It's not too bad just now, I've been given a shot of strong painkillers. I'm actually a little sleepy. The needle really hurt, though.”
“Oh no, poor love, you really hate needles, don't you?”
“I'd rather break another arm than have an injection.”
“D'you know how long you're gonna be?”
“No, I'm waiting to be set in plaster. We've been waiting for nearly an hour already.”
“Harry, can't you do something?” Mom asks him.
“I can but try.”
He goes off to the information desk and after a quick conversation he returns.
“I can pay to get it done faster, but the nurse says she'll be dealt with in ten minutes tops. Go get us a drink, honey.” He gives her some cash.
“D'you want anything?” she asks me.
“Just a bottle of water please, Mom.”
She sweeps off to the cafe.
“What a vacation it's turning out to be, Kate. You'll remember this one, won't you?” Harry chuckles.
I laugh with him.
Yeah, a laugh a minute...
HIM
I can't help it. Despite my movie, I'm getting more than miserable and now on my third beer. My cell rings with a call. I pick it up with a surge of excitement.
But it's not Kate. It's my sister, Paula. She doesn't call me that often, so I'm curious.
“Hey, Paula, this is a nice surprise.”
“Not a nice one I'm afraid. I was debating whether I should tell you, because she said not to. But I don't agree. Mom's sick, Aaron. She's got breast cancer. Had it confirmed today. I don't think she should keep it a secret. I know you two had a talk the other day and things are better between you. Maybe you want to see her?”
“Oh God, no. She's got cancer?”
“Yeah and she's very down, obviously. Since Dad died she's not been good, but now, she's far worse. She's seeing a consultant soon to discuss her options. I thought you'd like to be around, but of course, it's up to you.”
“Well I'll fly back as soon as I can, okay? I'll leave right now.”
“Okay, I'll speak to you then. I appreciate you coming. I'm sure she will, once she gets her head ’round it.”
She ends the call and my whole world starts to disintegrate. I simply can't believe it. My mom and dad both having cancer? This is so fucking unfair. I try and pull myself together and think of Mom. We may be in a very new phase of our relationship, and things are still strained, but even so, she's my mother and I really do care about her, a lot, despite my love-hate past experiences with her. At least I understand everything now, even if I don't agree with the way she handled it. I need to be there, in any case. And she needs a strong male shoulder to cry on. I'm gonna try my hardest to be that shoulder.
I can't sit here another second wondering about my love life. Kate's had her chance. For whatever reason she hasn't contacted me, that's the end of it. My mom comes first.
Fate, destiny, life. Whatever the greater purpose that is at play here has dealt the cards.
I write a quick note for Kate, just in case she arrives, although I think that's damned unlikely. I leave it at reception with instructions to throw it away, if it isn't collected in two days.
&
nbsp; I call my much-loved and cherished PA, extremely apologetically, because she's in bed again. She gets me on a flight to Paris, leaving in just under two hours, and an onward connection an hour later to Venice.
I check out and I'm in a cab in twenty minutes time.
I'm done here.
This didn't turn out the way I expected at all.
But I guess I'll get over her. In time.
HER
I'm in the back of Harry's car going home an hour later. On my insistence, Brendan's gone out to rejoin his friend and Kelsey's gang. I don't need him babysitting me. I can't stand fussing. Mom and Harry are doing a great job fussing on their own.
I'm plastered up and my arm's itching like hell inside as it dries and tightens. I can't wait to get in and scratch it with something. My mom's in the front of the car with Harry, and she's looking at her iPhone.
“Oh, honey, I forgot about this with all the drama. You'd better take a look. Lizzie from the casino has sent me this text for you. It's about someone called Aaron. Who's that, hon?” She turns in the seat and looks at me.
“Someone you know has sent me a text about Aaron?” I say in disbelief. I lean forward and snatch it from her hand. My heart's pounding as I read the message.
“Harry, take me to Caesars Palace, right now, please?” I demand, politely.
“No, honey, we're going straight home. You've broken your arm, or have you forgotten that small fact?” Mom says sternly.
“My arm's not important. I need to go there now, please?”
“Why's that? You've never mentioned Aaron before. What's so important about him?” My mom probes.
“You don't understand. It's an emergency.”
She laughs at me. “No, it's not, I read the text message. He's staying there till tomorrow night. Call him, invite him over tomorrow morning, after you've had a rest.”
“Please, Mom. Please?” I'm almost in tears.
“No, Kate. You're going home and resting. I insist. No more about this, okay?”
I send a text message.
-Aaron, it's Kate, just got your message, I was in hospital, broke my arm, call me back on this number, my cell's out of action until tomorrow sometime.
I tap his number and feel like screaming as it tells me “message was undelivered.”
Whatever Mom says, I don't care. I'm getting a cab back to the strip as soon as my mom gets her maternal hands out of my hair.
I call him three times on her cell but no luck.
He came to see me...all the way to Vegas? Oh my God...what could this mean?
I'm praying and hoping, hoping and praying.
He was literally across the strip from where I was, when I was falling over in my stupid fucking shoes. I could cry with frustration. Actually I am crying with frustration. A huge sob bursts from my mouth and my mom looks at me sympathetically.
“You're suffering from shock, honey, don't fret. I'll get you fixed up when we're home. I've got some sleeping pills; you can take one or two and have a good sleep. You'll feel a lot better then, won't you?” She smiles at me and leans around the car seat, offering her hand to hold. I grab it and hold it tight. I know she means well. But she doesn't understand. I don't think anything I say will make her realize how important Aaron is to me. She thinks I'm over reacting, not quite myself, because of the accident.
I can do nothing but be taken home.
I trudge into my room. She brings the sleeping pills to me and places them in my hand. I hold them in my mouth, pretending to swallow with the glass of water she gives me. I spit them out again when she's not looking, as she folds up my discarded dress that I managed to struggle out of. Then she sits down and takes my hand.
“Whoever he is can wait till you wake up, okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” I agree in a resigned voice. I wish she'd hurry up and go so I can call a cab and leave. She rubs my plastered arm with her fingers.
“We'll do something nice together tomorrow to take your mind off all this.”
“Sure, you know I'm getting really tired. Those pills seem to be working pretty fast.” I yawn naturally with perfect timing and close my eyes. She pats my hand and leaves. I wait one minute to make sure she's not coming back and then I'm up, dressing in an easy-to-put-on white top and pull-up black shorts. I call a cab on the house phone and I'm out the back door. The cab is going to meet me at The Ridges gate.
I run down the road in the darkness, my heart is pounding like crazy. I need to see him. So desperately. I'm craving his touch and his scent, and just about everything about him.
The cab arrives a long five minutes later and we're off and heading downtown. I'm so impatient to get there. Thinking what I'm going to say and do. Wrap myself around him. Tell him I love him to death.
I arrive at the hotel and go to the elevators pressing all the buttons impatiently. I get in and I'm soon up there, on the sixth floor, in the Octavian Tower. I find the room and knock. There's no answer. I knock again. I bang the door and shout.
Please, please be in there...
I start to get upset. I go back downstairs to reception and tearfully ask if they can call him on the room phone for me. And that's when I discover that I'm too late and he's already gone.
“Mr. Garcia checked out early, about four hours ago. Can I ask your name, please?”
“Kate Denton,” I say.
“He did leave a note for you, Miss Denton,” the desk clerk informs me in a kind voice.
He hands me an envelope. I tear it open as I walk away to a more private spot in the lounge. Tears are rolling down my cheeks. I can't bear it. So close and yet so far. My vision is blurred, and I can't see a damn thing. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand.
Dear Kate,
If you ever read this, I want you to know I'm so sorry for everything I said. I didn't mean a single word of it. Please forgive me. I'll never forget you. Aaron xxxx
My heart squeezes so tightly I think I'm about to have a heart attack. I sit on the lounge chair with my head in my hands in floods, desperately trying to pull myself together. Five minutes later a familiar arm wraps itself around my shoulders. I look up. It's my mom.
“Honey, what's happened...?”
“He's gone...,” I sob. “And I didn't get to see him.”
“Oh no, I'm so sorry, Kate. Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you home again. And you really need to tell me what's been going on.”
I get up and she holds my waist guiding me out the entrance and back inside Harry's car yet again. My chest heaves with my sobs as I sit in the back hugging her tight. She strokes my hair, then kisses my cheek. “Sweetie, I hate to see you in such a state. He must mean a lot to you. Why didn't you say?”
“He's everything, he means everything to me,” I whisper, burying my face in her shoulder.
“Where's he's gone?”
“I don't know, he's not answering.”
“He must be on a plane then, send a message, he'll get it when he lands. Don't you worry, you'll see him again.” She hugs me tightly and gives me her iPhone.
I start to type a message.
I got your note, missed you by a couple of hours. So sad. Give me your NY address and I'll come to you.
I've been asleep, with the assistance of sleeping pills. It's been seven hours since I went to the hotel and I've not heard a thing. I know it’s a five-hour flight to New York so he should have my messages by now. Why hasn't he replied? His iPhone is still switched off.
I'm in constant floods, my stomach in knots. My mom's trying to console me, but she can't help. By the time I get to eight hours of no replies, I'm sick. Physically.
Then I decide to do something completely mad. I'm going to him.
I need to send him a message, that I'm on the way to New York but I don't want my mom to know what I'm up to. I'm worried she'll try and stop me going and although she can't physically stop me, I don't want to argue about this with her. After pleading with Brendan to borrow his cell, and sending my long and complica
ted message about my cellular problems, I persuade him to run me to the airport, and I make up a tale about my friend being ill. I know he doesn't believe me for a second, but he plays along with it for some reason. Perhaps he can sense my desperation. It must almost be a tangible presence surrounding me.
After a real rush of a ticket purchase, I manage to get on the next flight that is already boarding. I've told Brendan I'll be back in two or three days and to let my mom know where I'm headed when he gets back. He hugs me goodbye, kisses my cheek, and says he'll miss me.
It might be a little uncaring, but I'm not really taking much notice of him. I'm desperate to go. I'm stranded in my thoughts and my overwhelming desire to get to Aaron. No matter what.
I run for the gate and get on the plane, literally at the last minute.
As I sit there looking out of the window, at least I feel like I'm doing something positive. And while I'm up in the air, I can't fret and get more and more miserable that he hasn't called.
I try and relax. It's only five hours. I'll be there by early evening. I try not to think about negative outcomes of my lunatic flight, what might happen if he doesn't answer my texts or doesn't want to meet me.
His note was sweet and lovely. He wants me back, I'm sure he does.
Why else would he have come to Vegas and left me that letter?
HIM
I have to run for my Venice connection, because the plane was over a half hour late landing, having battled a strong headwind over the Atlantic. Once inside the plane, I get comfortable once again. The doors close and we're off immediately. I get my cell out, and turn it on. I'd left it turned off to save battery. It's still on flight mode, not connected to the world, so I put my earphones on and chill with some music for a while, then play a game. It's an hour and forty-five minutes flight time, and after a strong cup of coffee half way, I doze with boredom. I ache like hell. Even though I was traveling first class luxury from Vegas, sitting in any chair for fifteen hours isn't fun. Still, the torment's almost over.