to that one.”
“I’ve never really gambled before,” Cleo said to Claire and Martha. “Have you guys?”
“Not a lot,” Claire said. “We came last year, and Max gambled, even though he wasn’t legal.” Claire laughed and kicked the back of the seat.
“Hey, that wasn’t my idea,” Max said.
“You made Max break the law?” Cleo said. She was smiling as she looked at Claire.
“No,” Claire said. “It was my—it was Doug. He was here last year, and he wanted Max to do it.”
“He’s like the worst gambler ever, too,” Max said quickly. “He talked about statistics the whole time and made it so boring.”
“Gambling makes me nervous,” Cleo said. “The possibility that you can gain or lose so much in a second is scary.” No one answered her, and they drove the rest of the way in silence.
Once they walked into the casino, Martha headed straight to the slots and began feeding twenty-dollar bills into a machine called Wild Cherry. “I’m not going to waste my money gambling on blackjack,” she said.
“Right,” Max said. “Because slots are really the smart way to go.”
Martha pursed her lips at him and kept playing. They left her at the slot machines and went to the bar to get a drink because Cleo had wrinkled her nose at the free drinks they were passing out. Then they walked around looking at the different minimums for the tables and trying to find one they liked. When they passed Martha again, about forty-five minutes later, her eyes were glazed, and her lips were parted, with a little string of spit between them, as she pushed the button to make the slots go, and listened for the bing, ring, and ding of the cherries and sevens and big-money signs.
“I think we’ve created a monster,” Claire said.
“Martha,” Max said. She didn’t look up right away. “Martha,” they all called together, and she looked up, spacey and surprised.
“Have you won?” Cleo asked.
Martha shook her head. “Not yet, but I have a good feeling about this machine.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Claire asked.
Martha shook her head.
“No, no. I’m good here,” she said, turning back to the machine.
“Okay, well, if you need us, we’ll be over there, okay?” Claire pointed in the direction of the tables. Martha nodded distractedly.
“Good God,” Max said. “We’re gonna have to call Mom and Dad to drag her out of here.”
“The scary thing is, she kind of fits in,” Claire whispered to Max. It was true. Martha was wearing a large tented flowered dress, and her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail. She looked older than thirty, and she clutched her purse on her lap while she touched the machine like she was communicating with it. On either side of her were older women, just as sloppily dressed, petting their own machines. Claire got the chills watching her.
“Well, at least if she started coming here, it would be something social she could do,” Max offered.
“Max, that’s mean,” Cleo said. She looked shocked and Max muttered an apology.
“Come on,” he said, putting his arm around her. “Let’s go gamble.”
At the blackjack table, there were only two seats open, so Claire and Max sat down in the middle and Cleo stood behind them. “I just want to watch first,” Cleo said.
The man to Max’s left looked a little off and anytime someone else at the table got a good card, he pounded both hands in front of him and said, “Sonofabitch,” all as one word. Max leaned over and squeezed Claire’s shoulder and the two of them bent their heads down, trying not to laugh.
Claire watched Cleo place her hand on Max’s back, just lightly, like she wasn’t even thinking about it. It was almost like they were the same person, and Claire felt a sharp pain. She was jealous of her younger brother and his girlfriend. Max had a life, a love life, and she didn’t. Even Heather Foley had a love life. It was like somewhere along the way, Claire had stopped being a real person.
When Cleo finally sat down, she got blackjack on her first hand. She squealed and clapped her hands again. She was very careful to place her winnings to one side, and when she was up about forty dollars, she decided to stop. “I should quit while I’m ahead, right?” she said.
“That’s very mature of you,” Claire said. She had lost eighty dollars and was trying to stop herself from going back.
“You can’t win if you don’t