by Nella Tyler
Twenty-five grand was only a little bit to Ben? Of course it was. He was a billionaire! That was nothing to him – a drop in the bucket. I could tell that he felt guilty for not helping his brother, and by his expression, I got the feeling that the story wasn’t going to get any better.
"A few days after he came to see me, my brother was found in an alley in New York City. He'd been beaten to death."
I gasped. I couldn't help it. Oh my God. His poor brother! The burden of guilt on Ben's shoulders was probably enormous. There was nothing I could say that would assuage his guilt; I knew that. I placed my hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze. No words were necessary.
"Anyway, after I realized what a selfish prick I was, I changed. I began throwing money around like it was nothing." He looked chagrined. "Which accounts for your apartment full of furniture.” He paused again. "You see, Maggie, I never really learned how to handle the money. At one end of the spectrum, I was so tight fisted with it I didn't want to share with anybody, not even my brother. His death affected me greatly, and now I'm careless with it."
He said nothing for several minutes, and I realized that he was finished with at least that part of the story. "Ben, it's not your fault-"
"Of course, it's my fault," he said. "It was only twenty-five grand. And I couldn't even give my brother that. He died because of it. I might not have done the deed myself, but I might as well have, with the results it produced. I think if I'd given them the money, things would have been different." He shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe my brother and I could've had a relationship. Maybe I could've convinced my brother to get help for his gambling addiction. Whatever happened, happened because I refused to share. I was selfish and greedy."
"Ben," I said softly. "I've been working in the casino long enough to know that addiction is hard to deal with. You could've given your brother the money, and he could've paid off that loan shark, but chances are, there would have been another loan shark down the line…"
"I know that, Maggie, believe me. Maybe that's the point I was trying to make in refusing to give my brother the money in the first place. But I certainly didn't think anything like that was going to happen to him. Worse case scenario, I figured he would have to find some way to make payments or installments to pay it back to the loan shark. If I had known…"
"I'm sure that if you had known what was going to happen, you would have given him the money in a heartbeat. But you didn't." I tried to make them feel better, but he was having none of it. He was beating himself up, and while I understood it, I knew there was nothing I could do to make him feel any less guilty over what happened.
“Thanks for listening, Maggie," he said. "I've never told anybody that. It feels better to get it off my chest."
"I appreciate you confiding in me, Ben," I said. In fact, it meant a great deal to me that he had revealed a part of his past with me. That, more than anything else, made me feel as if we did have a relationship, an odd one, no doubt about it, and one that had experienced quite a few bumps already. But wasn't that what relationships were all about?
Ben and I laid side by side in the bed for another hour or so, just holding each other, speaking softly, sharing a little bit more about ourselves little bits at a time. I told him more about my relationship with my ex-husband, the secrets here, the betrayals there, and the gradual destruction of trust. I told him that it had taken a long time for me to recover. I also told him that he had to forgive himself.
"I know it's hard," I told him. "For a long time I blamed myself for the failure of my marriage-"
"It wasn't your fault your husband couldn't keep it in his pants," Ben said.
"I know, but you know, I foolishly thought that maybe it was me. Maybe I wasn't doing enough to keep him happy. Maybe I wasn't doing enough to support him." I glanced up again as he was about to protest. "I know it wasn't my fault. I tried to be a good wife. I tried to do the right thing. I think, in your own way, you were doing the same. I had to learn to forgive myself, Ben, and you have to learn how to forgive yourself also."
He said nothing for several moments. "Thanks, Maggie."
"I know the situations are completely different, Ben, but the bottom line is that we never know what the future is going to bring. We can't be responsible for someone else's emotions or reactions. We can't always think that we can be everyone's saviors. We all make mistakes. Some of our mistakes… Well, let's just say that sometimes things don't turn out the way we expected. But if we can learn from them, get something out of them, and perhaps change our lives because of those mistakes, maybe that's the lesson that we all have to learn."
I had learned a lot from my broken relationship with my ex-husband. Yes, it had taken me a long time to learn how to trust again, but I had also learned how to be more independent. I have learned that I can stand on my own two feet. Yes, I am broke most of the time, but you know what? I was surviving. Sometimes, that was all we could ask for in life. Everything else, anything else, is just icing on the cake.
Chapter 5
I was really glad that Ben had told me a little bit about his past. I felt awful for him. I couldn't imagine how it might feel to know that perhaps, just perhaps, you are to blame for your brother's death. I realized that Ben had no control over that, and I did understand, in a way, his refusal to give any money to his brother, but still. It's easy for people to judge; I knew that. How would I have reacted?
How would I have reacted if I had been bequeathed billions of dollars and then a relative that I barely knew, regardless of the fact that it could be a sister or brother, suddenly appeared, wanting money? I had always been a person who wanted to help fix other people's problems. Some said it was a fault of mine. Still, I didn't like anyone feeling bad or being in trouble. There were many times when I had loaned my last dollar to Savannah.
At the same time, I also knew the dangers of giving money to any kind of an addict. It didn't matter whether they were addicted to alcohol, drugs, or gambling. Until the behavior itself was dealt with and overcome to the greatest degree possible, giving money to such individuals was an endless and enabling and potentially damaging endeavor.
So while many people might have thought, or probably did think, that Ben was a nasty person because he had refused to give his brother a "mere" twenty-five grand, there was more behind it than it appeared. It was a horrid, terrible shame that loan sharks had murdered his brother, but I knew enough about the business to know that you didn't mess around with them. They weren't all the same, and it wasn't like people heard about on TV. Some were willing to work with you. However, some also charged outrageous interest rates for every day that you were late paying them back. It could quickly escalate into an untenable, frightening situation.
I could imagine that because of the estrangement, Ben's brother had hesitated as long as possible before asking for money from his younger brother. I wondered what he might've felt at the moment Ben refused to give it to him. Had he been angry? Had he begged? Had he been scared? Probably all of those emotions rushed through his mind.
I also tried to look at it from Ben's point of view. Growing up in a family embroiled in the casino business, he knew the dangers of gambling. There was a rule that many gamblers were able to follow: don't gamble more than you're willing to lose. Unfortunately, sometimes the gambling bug bit hard and people forgot. They figured that one more hand, one more win, might turn things around. It was that hope, that desire, and that thrill that kept most of them gambling.
I didn't get the impression that Ben was like that. He came and left the Blackjack table with an easy-going demeanor. He had never gotten terribly upset when he lost, nor did he get that mad, money-hungry look in his eyes when he won. He seemed to play just for the fun of it. The fact that he had billions of dollars to play with took a lot of pressure off. He could lose an enormous amount of money and it wouldn't bother him. Maybe because of that there was no stress, no desperation. For others sitting around my table, it was not the same.
I had
seen many of them grow increasingly nervous as their pile of chips decreased. I had seen them biting their fingernails, scrambling nervously to the ATM machine, and more than I cared to count had a look of defeat and desperation in their features as they left my table. For the first time, I really thought about the ramifications of gambling behaviors. Come to think of it, I wondered how many of the gamblers that left my table had gone home to a ruined marriage, a broken home, and perhaps even to meet with loan sharks who were just as unforgiving as for those who had dealt with Ben's brother. How many had committed suicide because they had gone so deep into debt they saw no way of extricating themselves from it?
I didn't like thinking this way. I never had before. But learning about Ben’s background, and what had happened, totally changed my perspective on a number of things. It was depressing. I didn’t think I'd ever take my place behind my Blackjack table with the same feelings again. I had a feeling that I would look at each of the players, wonder about their private lives and whether they were walking the edge. I knew there was nothing I could do about it. But up until this point, my job had been just that, a job. Now, it felt like I was a part of the problem. It wasn't my fault that the players at my table gambled or that some of them might be addicted to it. But I felt now kind of like a bartender handing a drink to an alcoholic, contributing to their slow decline, that slow spiral into desperation and oppression that they might never climb out of.
When Ben and I got out of bed that morning, I tried to shake off such depressing thoughts and wondered how things would go today. By the time we got dressed and ate a nice breakfast out on the back patio, I was feeling relaxed for the first time in over a week. Every once in awhile I glanced at Ben and I realized that in spite of everything, I was very glad that we had come to some sort of an agreement, or terms.
We had cleared the air and he had finally shared something of his past with me. We were just hanging out, lounging in the backyard, enjoying the sunshine, when he asked if I wanted to re-watch the movie that we had started to watch last night before we started making out. I agreed and downstairs we went. The next couple of hours passed quickly, the two of us sitting side by side on the couch, holding hands. It was nice to just hang out together, not to feel that immediate, mad, desire to couple. It was nice just to be able to relax with someone and not feel any pressure.
I haven't been able to do that in a long time. I had never really hung out like this with my husband, especially not after we were married. As a matter of fact, as I began to look back at it, I realized that he had paid very good attention to me while we were dating, up until the point where we said our "I dos” to each other. Then, once the vows were exchanged, it seemed as if he had stepped back a little, quit trying so hard. Was that how all relationships worked? The chase was the exciting part and once the partner was caught, it wasn't exciting anymore?
Would that happened to Ben and me? I certainly hoped not. Despite our rather shaky history in the past couple of weeks, I began to feel more comfortable around him again. I'm not sure if I could say that I trusted him completely, but there was some trust involved. I certainly didn't know if that was a good thing or not, but for today, I was happy about it, and I knew that my heart felt lighter than it had in days.
I didn't like arguing with him. I didn't like being mad at him. The day passed quickly, too quickly, but eventually I knew it was time for me to go home. I had to work tomorrow, and Ben had to get back to whatever it was he did. I wanted to ask him about the gambling, more questions about his past, and what he did with his time during the day, but I held back. A little bit at a time. I would have to be satisfied with that.
*
The next couple of days had me literally walking on air. I didn’t care that Savannah ignored me. I decided that our friendship was probably over, especially if she refused to come up to me within the next couple of days and explain herself. At any rate, I couldn't worry about it. Ben and I talked on the phone a couple of times and exchanged text messages, but I hadn't seen him for a couple of days. I went to work and minded my own business, and with my new perspective, carefully watched the players around me, realizing that for the most part, they were having a good time.
I discovered that I was having a good time, as well, and for the first time in years, I was actually looking forward to going to work, interacting with my customers, and just moving on with my life. I wasn't going to push the relationship with Ben. We saw each other when we could, and I wasn't going to make any demands of him or his time.
The third morning after I left Ben's house, I woke up bright and early. I didn't have to be at work until four o'clock this afternoon and had decided to do some laundry, some cleaning, perhaps even cook up some food that I could put in Tupperware containers and freeze. I had just taken a shower and put on some lounging-around-the-house clothes when I heard the knock on the door.
I walked over to it, not sure who it could be. I certainly wasn't expecting anyone. I looked through the peephole and my heart gave a little leap of excitement. It was Ben. He was smiling, and it was obvious that he knew I was looking through the hole. I smiled as I opened the door and then stepped back, inviting him to enter.
"What a pleasant surprise," I said, closing the door as he walked into the small entryway between the door and the living area. "What brings you out so bright and early in the morning?"
"I just thought it like to hang out with you for a while before you have to go to work," he shrugged. "Is that okay with you? Do you have anything planned?"
"Nothing that I can’t put off until tomorrow," I said. "Have you had breakfast?"
He shook his head.
I suggested that I make us brunch: an omelet, some toast, and coffee, nothing fancy. He agreed and I ventured into the kitchen and began to cook. He walked around the apartment for a while and then stood staring out the window before venturing into the kitchen behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist.
"Can I help with anything?"
"You can set the table," I suggested. “There are a couple of plates in the cupboard by the refrigerator. The silverware is in the last drawer under the counter top.”
He quickly set the table, found napkins, and filled two mugs that he pulled out of an overhead cupboard with coffee while I dished up the eggs and the toast. We sat down and enjoyed a nice breakfast.
After breakfast, I was pleased when he offered to help me clean up, and I agreed. That finished, I asked him what he wanted to do, and he just shrugged. I moved to sit down on the couch, thinking to double check my schedule on my iPhone. He sat down beside me, smiling. We sat there for a while, just holding hands, kissing, necking a little, nothing serious. We talked for a long time, about our childhoods and past relationships. We talked for a couple of hours, and I felt really good about it. He was finally opening up and finally trusting me. I felt in a way that his willingness to discuss his past and childhood encouraged my own trust in him.
I was happy. Not just content, but happy. I hadn’t felt that way in such a long time, not since I had first met Ben. I felt comfortable with him, and as long as he was honest with me, and I felt that he was, I realized that our relationship could develop and grow. I wasn't in any hurry, of course, because I was still wary. I didn't want to get hurt again. My ex-husband had done quite a number on me. In fact, I sometimes wondered if my attraction to Ben was caused by the fact that he seemed attracted to me. Did I want to be given attention so desperately that I was mistaking his signals? Were we just friends or were we something more?
As we continued to enjoy our conversation, I wanted to ask him these questions, but I didn't want to put a damper on the easy-going atmosphere that we had between us at the moment. Relaxed. No pressure. Just friendly conversation. I didn't want to do anything to disrupt that.
As the afternoon waned, I glanced at the clock. "I've had a wonderful time with you this afternoon, Ben, but I do have to start getting ready for work. I have to be at the casino by four o'clock." It was coming c
lose to three o'clock already, and I still needed to take a shower, wash my hair, get dressed, and put my makeup on.
He nodded, but didn't move.
I sat for several moments, my eyebrows lifted in question. I got the feeling he wanted to say something. “What is it?" I asked, smiling.
He said nothing for several moments, but then sighed. "Can I ask you a favor?"
My heart thumped. I couldn't help it. What kind of favor could I possibly do for Ben? He was the one with all the money and connections. What could I possibly do for him? Though I was a little leery, and trying very hard not to be suspicious, I nodded. “What is it?" I certainly wasn't going to promise him any favors before I knew what those favors or that favor entailed.
Again, he hesitated for a moment or two, but then shrugged. "Maggie, do you think you could help me get back into the casino?"
I sat there stunned. He wanted me to help him get back into the casino? How exactly was I supposed to do that? I broached that very question to him. "I'm just a Blackjack dealer, Ben," I said. "I don't have any pull with management. In fact, I think I've met the owner of the casino once, maybe twice in all the years I've worked there."
"I know," he said. "They gave me a good talking to, but nobody came right out and accused me of cheating. They have no evidence of that, only suspicions, which I know now came from Savannah."
"Still…" I felt funny. I didn't want to think it, but had Ben been trying to use me, again? I shook my head. "Ben, what difference does it make whether you get into my casino again? Heaven knows there are certainly plenty of other casinos in Atlantic City. Why this one?"
He grinned as if it was all in innocence. "There's something about your casino that makes me feel comfortable. Even though I win at other casinos, and I do realize that I have a slight, very minimal addiction to gambling, I have come to realize in the past week or so that I miss your casino. I miss sitting across from you at the Blackjack table."