Lucky Ticket

My hands shake as I hand over the bills to the attendant at the gas station. The place smells like cleaner and stale hot dogs, and the floor is covered in marks from where the mop went by with dirty water. He asks to see my ID and so I fish it out of the plastic sleeve in my wallet, the leather worn from years of use. He looks at it then hands me a playslip. I write down the numbers I’ve been thinking about all morning, hesitating when the gravity of it all makes my pen waver. If I order them in just the right way, I could win. If I don’t, I’m short $10 that I probably shouldn’t have parted with, and possibly left with a broken heart. I let impulse decide for me, and hand the slip back to the guy. In return, he hands me my ticket and asks if there’s anything else he can get me. I say yes, actually there is and walk out with a pack of cigarettes.

I started smoking when I moved out of my parent’s house, at around the same time my dad was diagnosed. They would kill me if they found out, but my nerves are shot to hell and I need them. It’s contemplative, standing outside and smoking. I understand why everyone did it, way back when. There’s only a couple cigarette brands I can actually stand, so if a place doesn’t have them then I don’t buy them. But it seems I almost always have a pack laying around these days.

I check my watch, a vintage of my grandma’s that I recently started wearing. She’s probably turning in her grave at the sight of me smoking outside this gas station, but I don’t have time to worry about it. I have a shift in half an hour and I need to get a coffee if I want to function for the next twelve hours. I stub out the cigarette and walk to my car, thankful the weather is nice and I’m unencumbered by a jacket. At least it’s spring. Would dad make it to summer? I didn’t want to know the answer.

An hour later I’m already swamped with tables at the restaurant when I see a familiar face enter. Leo looks around before he finally catches my eye, taking an order at one of the tables near the front. I wink at him before turning my attention back to the table. He makes his way through the crowd and finds me in the hallway to the kitchen.

“Hi babe,” he smiles and kisses me then pulls back, frowning. “Smoking again?”

I sigh. “I thought we weren’t gonna talk about this.” I only have a couple minutes before I have to get back out there, and he knows that.

“You’re right, sorry. I love you. I just wanted to bring you your little black book. You left it at my place last night.”

“Thanks babe, that was sweet.” I smile at him, and wish I didn’t have this stupid shift. All I want to do is curl up in a ball on his lap. It’s the only place I feel safe these days, sheltered from catastrophe for once.

“Anything for you, M.” Leo is the only one who doesn’t just call me Madalena, except my dad. I’ll always be Lenny to him. “I’ll be studying if you need me. Call me on your break?”

I smile and nod and he knows I don’t want him to go. So he gives me one more kiss before leading the way back out into the mess of the restaurant. I tuck my small black notebook into the apron tied around my waist as I watch him go. Leo smiles at everyone he passes, and I see the effect on all of their faces. It’s like watching the sun turn everything to gold.

On my break I decide to call my mom first, Leo second. I pull out the notebook and sit down to our break table in the alley out back. My slice of peace in this hell. I opt to skip the smoke because I don’t want to go back in there reeking like a junkie. Bad for the tips.

“Hi mom, how’s it going?” I ask her even though I know very well how it’s going. I open the notebook to the page that’s marked, my latest deep internet dive into the horrific world of cancer. “How’s dad?”

“Oh, he’s alright. Resting right now. How’s work?” My mom deflects the conversation so skillfully I almost miss it.

“Work is fine. Good tips today since so many people are out. Did you see the email I sent you last night?” I ask her.

“I did, Madalena. I know you want to find something to cure dad, but we’ve got so many doctors working on it. I don’t want this to burden you. Please honey.” Mom practically begs me to stop throwing all my free hours into trying to save dad. It seems ludicrous to me, that she would expect I would just take a back seat in all of this when not helping out would be more of a burden than anything. The guilt of the last 24 years was already threatening, making its way up my throat and stinging my eyes. It’s a terrible feeling, feeling like you haven’t done enough.

“I know mom, but it’s not a burden. Leo helps me. He’s really good with finding these studies. That trial I sent you could be the ticket.”

“Sweetie, it’s out of our budget. For now we just have to see what the doctors here can do. I don’t want to disrupt your dad and move him.” I can hear the exasperation in her voice, and the fear. I remember that this is hurting her as much or more than it’s hurting me, so I decide to ease up.

“I know, you’re right. But we could find a way to pay, if it’s the right thing for dad. Just ask Dr. Bernard next time you see him. Please?” I know I’m pleading and my mom is probably on her last straw, but the research trial that Leo and I uncovered last night seemed really promising. It was the reason I took the detour to the gas station on the way to my shift this morning in the first place.

“Okay, I will.” My mom promises, and I sense defeat.

“Mom get some rest too, okay? I’m going to be late here but I’ll check in tomorrow. Tell dad I love him.”

“I will honey. Love you. Stay safe.” My mom always worries about me finishing up at the restaurant so late, but I have Leo. I look down at the page in front of me and realize that a teardrop has marked the page. Thankfully it missed blurring anything important. I call Leo before nibbling on the salad in front of me, and ultimately throwing it out in the garbage. I have no appetite these days. I put my notebook in my locker with my phone before getting back to work.

We get slammed for dinner that night. The change in weather has people out like never before. Or at least like they hadn’t been all winter. By the time I see Leo outside, I’ve just about cleaned every table. My coworker Jane sees him too, and tells me to go, she can take care of the rest.

“You’re a lifesaver, Janey.” I call out to her. I hang my apron by the door and grab my things before blowing her a kiss and walking out the front door.

Leo and I walk to my car, where he offers to drive. We go back to my place because I desperately want a shower after the long hours on my feet. He cooks me spaghetti while I wash up, emerging from the bathroom minutes later in just a robe, too tired to bother with clothes. He pours us each a glass of wine and I tell him about the conversation with my mom. He tells me about his day. Lately I feel like there’s a gaping hole in my chest, but Leo fills it somewhat. Or at least helps me forget about it whenever we’re together. It’s like I’m preemptively grieving, and even realizing that makes me want to burst into tears.

“I think you need to take a break from work. A day off. What about Sunday? We can do something with your dad.” Leo suggests, sensing the clouds rolling in, covering the life in my eyes.

“That’s a good idea, actually. George does owe me, and I made bank in tips tonight. I’ll text him.” I decide. I kiss Leo on the cheek and give him a long hug, thanking him for everything.

“I love you, baby.” Is his response. I put the dishes in the sink and we make our way to the bed, where I fall asleep curled up next to Leo, focusing on his breathing to calm me. I feel myself relax for the first time all day, and thank God for the two men in my life who I can always count on.

Days later, I have all but forgotten about the lottery ticket I bought when I’m having dinner with my parents and the news comes on announcing the winning numbers. I watch them flash on the screen and my stomach flips. I can feel it in my chest, the same way I used to feel when I was about to win bingo, or a prize drawing. I always knew. I calmly get up from my chair and grab my wallet out of my purse. The ticket is there, and I pull it out as my parents stare at me, wondering what’s going on.

“Oh my gosh.” I don’t know what else to say as I realize I do in fact have a winning ticket. “I think I just won the lottery. For you, dad.” I add this last sentence because my parents never approved of gambling, and made sure I knew that.

“What?” My mom asks. They’re both staring at me.

“Are you serious, Lenny?” My dad asks.

“Yeah, I think so. Look I don’t buy tickets all the time, but when Leo and I found that trial for you dad I thought I should ask the universe for a sign. So I bought a lottery ticket. I know that seems so silly but I felt like I was running out of options.” My voice is small as I explain all this to my parents. My mom shocks me with her response.

“What!? We have to toast to that. I’m getting a bottle of champagne!” she practically yells as she starts heading to the basement where we store the wine.

“Lenny, I can’t believe this! How much is the ticket for?” My dad asks me timidly. I know he’s going to tell me I should spend the money how I want.

“$20,000 dad. Enough to get you in that trial, and maybe another if...if you need it. I can’t believe this.” It’s starting to sink in that this is really happening. My dad might have a chance at walking me down the aisle after all. In a few years. I start crying, happy tears for once.

“Oh come here.” My dad tells me and we hug and don’t let go until my mom has returned with a bottle of champagne and set about opening it.

“I’m going to call Leo!” I tell my parents, excusing myself.

I leave the room to dial Leo and leave him a message. When I turn around to return to the kitchen, I see my parents embracing, tears streaming down their faces. Real smiles spread across their faces for the first time in months. Dad will make it to summer, and hopefully many summers more. I exhale, and rejoin them.