Page 24 of Once Upon a Frosty Winter

“Lani can sing like a bird. Some weekends, she travels to sing backup for several performers. It’s less expensive for them to bring in local talent than hafta keep ’em on tour.”

“Yours got a scholarship for sports? Oh, hell. That’s only because Lani had to drop it. She kept getting bruised up, and the photographers with the modeling agencies started complaining. I asked ’em why they couldn’t digitize or digital doctor the photos—whatever ya call it. But then she broke her arm. Well, I couldn’t stand for my baby to get hurt, and she’s the type who’s gonna do anything with a thousand percent. So we dropped sports. But congrats on yours getting a scholarship.”

The lies about my beauty and modeling are the cruelest. I’m skinny, but not by choice. Luckily, I stay busy enough not to notice how hungry I am. I can’t afford expensive makeup or to have my hair and nails maintained. Not that I think I’m unattractive, but my face is average at best.

Everyone knows those are outrageous, outright lies, and when someone asks me,“How’s the modeling career working out?”in a mocking tone, I simply have to walk away with my head held high. He also likes to tell people that celebrities and royalty have sought my affection. One time, he told someone I’d been asked to accompany a socialite on vacation, but I’d have to travel to New Zealand, and it’s a shame I’m too terrified to fly. I guess that’s better than admitting I am terrified, but it’s leaving him to fend for himself that scares me. None of his stories are true, and me not disputing them are lies of omission. I’d rather just avoid everyone. Not speak to anyone at all. I don’t want to lie, but I don’t want to call my father a liar, even when that’s what he is.

Lies.

Lies.

Lies.

I stare out my windshield as the rain maintains a steady rhythm. It’s after ten on a Friday night, and here I am sitting outside The Golden Halo. I should be out with friends, not chasing my father down to take him home. It’s as if our roles have been reversed. I try not to judge him too harshly because I don’t know what it’s like to battle addictions or any other demons that plague him. I only hope someday to understand him.

The Golden Halois the only casino around for miles, and it’s located in the middle of nowhere. This place would be easily missed unless one knew of its existence. It’s rather isolated, surrounded by large and beautiful trees. The bald cypresses are my favorite, even though they’re considered ‘swampy.’ I never understood why that was a bad thing, but my grandmother would speak the word as if it was dirty. There’s also an abundance of magnolia trees throughout the property. If this place wasn’t such a haven for sin and fueling my father’s addictions, I’d almost think it looked enchanting out here. The raised two-story building is ingeniously tucked away between a gently flowing river and fairy-tale greenery. It has large arches with brightly colored lights that appear inviting, offering the deals of a lifetime and promises of gold and riches. It’s a deceiving elegance.

I, unfortunately, learned about it at a young age. My father would have me wait in the car while he’d go inside. I’d eventually fall asleep and wake up back home. He’d feel guilty and take me for ice cream the next day. As I grew up, he’d put me to bed and then go. Most mornings, he’d return in time to take me to school. I’ll admit, I was impressed how he never missed a day of work at his insurance office, though I suspect he’d take naps there.

But today, I’m here because I received a voicemail that our joint credit card is overdrawn. When he put my name on the account, it was with the promise to help me build my credit. Now I worry it’s because he was only wanting to use my clean, debt-free name—or itwasdebt-free.My poor credit score never stood a chance once his name was attached to mine. This has to stop.

My chest tightens, but I refuse to break down now. My beat-up car door creaks loudly as I open it and step out into the cold drizzle. My feet ache from being on them all day at the restaurant, but I won’t complain. At least I have a job, and the customers were generous tippers tonight. I hurry across the parking lot, trying my best to avoid the puddles, and then cross the little arched wooden bridge that leads to the entrance of the casino.

As soon as I enter the double glass doors, a pleasant warmth caresses me. But I can’t fully appreciate it when the smell of smoke hits my nose. It’s better than being in the cold. A man twice my size who’s wearing a fitted blackGolden Halo Securityshirt stares at me with his no-nonsense expression as I approach. Crap. I forgot my wallet in the car. When I’m face-to-face with him, I nod and smile, hoping he doesn’t ask for my ID. No such luck.

“Nobody gets in without proof of ID,” he grumbles.

“I’m twenty-one, but I don’t plan to drink or gamble. I’m actually just coming in to get my father. I swear.”

“We still need to know who you are.”

Why would they need to know that?Maybe people have gotten kicked out before, or banned. There were rumors of mafia business going on here, but my father told me that, and he’s hardly a reliable source.

The guy opens his mouth but closes it when the phone on his hip vibrates. He takes it and reads the screen. My heart is pounding against my chest. I tried calling my father, but he wouldn’t answer me. While I wait on the security guard, I glance around. Maybe I’ll see Pa and yell at him to come over. Worst-case scenario, if they won’t let me go to him, maybe he’ll get him for me.

He grunts, and then in a bored tone, says, “Go ahead. No gambling. No drinking. We’re going to be watching.”

Sheesh.“Not a problem. I’m hoping I won’t be staying long,” I tell him as I walk past. The security guard isn’t looking at me but at something, or someone, behind me. I turn my head, but I can’t tell who or what it is. He grumbles something under his breath, and I assume that’s my cue to get moving.

The lights and noise are almost too much for me. It’s overwhelming. There’s so much happening at once: card games, slot machines, roulette, dice, voices, smoke, drinks. My head feels dizzy, so I close my eyes and cover my ears, focusing my energy on breathing. Now I’m only aware of the smell of BBQ and smoke. I jolt at the feel of a gentle hand touching my shoulder. I open my eyes to see a security guard with puckered brows.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.” I give him a sheepish smile and begin walking. I don’t think about which direction I’m going in. So much is happening around me, and my anxiety can barely handle it. I might vomit.Focus.Pa enjoys cards, so I’ll try to find the blackjack and poker tables. Hopefully, I’ll find him quickly and can talk him into leaving. And maybe, just maybe, he hasn’t lost everything.

There’re so many lights and sounds, but I keep pushing forward. The smoke in the air is already beginning to cling to my hair, skin, and clothes. I can only imagine how much I’m breathing into my lungs. My heart squeezes at the sight of some of the drawn faces. I know that look all too well. Desperation. Addiction. That’s the look I’ve seen on Pa. For these people, there’ll be no leaving until there’s nothing left. They’ll drain themselves dry until they have no choicebutto leave. Until the next time…

Because next time, they’ll win. The next time, they’ll strike gold, get lucky. Pa is foolish enough to say he makes his own luck. I guess when you have a daughter who will do everything she can to get you out of a bind, that is lucky—for him, anyway.

I squeeze through the crowd, weave my way through the maze of slot machines, and then slide along the wall behind some chairs at a table. When I see the spinning wheel of the roulette table, I pause to watch. There’s only a swirl of red and black as the wheel of fate goes round and round. The man behind the table drops the little white ball into the chaos of colors, and it bounces along the slots. The tension is thick with the anticipation of which number it’ll finally settle on.

My heart is pounding in my chest, even though I have nothing at stake. It’s the excitement of it—it’s contagious. The wheel slows… the ball continues to bounce along… and then it stops. There’s a mix of groans and cheers. Within seconds, a tiny marble and wooden wheel determined the outcome of so many gamblers’ night. A few leave the table, slouching, their heads hanging low. A few gather their chips to go chase the next thrill. Most keep their chips on the table to try their luck again.

I back away and sincerely wish them the best, but I know how most of their nights will end. Broken spirits like Pa.He might win big once every blue moon. That one win is nothing compared to the thousands of losses. If he would only save that money. But saving takes self-control and patience, and that’s not the type of man he is. Instead, he’d rather try to get rich quick. Pa will never learn, and I’ve come to accept that. As long as he gets one win, no matter how small, it still feeds his hope that there’s a possibility to clean the casino out. My biggest fear is that it still wouldn’t satisfy him. He’d probably still turn around and bet it all back. I stop walking when I hear him.

“Let’s do it, Henry. Hit me one more time.”

I stand on my tippy-toes to peek over the heads. Through the veil of smoke, I spot him a few chairs down throwing chips onto a table.