Gambling on the Same Old Same Old

Morning already. She shut the alarm and lay still for one more moment. Glen rolled over next to her, still in the world of dreams. Carol steeled herself for the week ahead and climbed out from beneath the warmth of covers. She shuffled into the bathroom and exited with wet hair and clean breath. Pulling her robe closer, she moved to the kitchen and reached into the freezer for the coffee. Methodically, she dug for three scoops and dumped them ceremoniously one at a time into the paper shell. Swinging the white plastic holder into place, she took the glass carafe and turned to fill it to the lined marked six. As she reached for the faucet, a giant black spider scurried around the white sink. Carol let out a sharp screech and caught herself before she slammed the carafe into the squishiness of the spider and the solidity of the sink. Thinking quickly, she turned the water on hot and pulled the sprayer, focusing all the attention on the spider. The spider had the forethought to curl itself into a small ball, but that wasn’t enough to save it from being washed down the drain with steaming hot water to make sure it would not return to the surface.

“Blech. What a way to start a week. Why can’t Glen be the one to deal with this kind of shit every now and then?” Carol often spoke to herself in the morning. Otherwise, she’d never have any kind of conversation until arriving at work. Glen would rise in about an hour, by the time he got to the kitchen, she’d be out the door, leaving him with a clean kitchen and a cup of lukewarm stale coffee.

It wasn’t always like this. Not so long ago they’d shower together, often after a quick morning romp. They’d talk and laugh and take turns making the coffee and arguing passionately over who was more apt to steal the covers in the middle of the night. Over the years, the talk and laughter lessened, while the arguments lost their passion and gained in venom. When Glen lost his job, they had stopped even pretending to share the morning hour. Now Carol was the primary breadwinner, and Glen, well, Glen didn’t do much of anything.

Carol sipped at her rapidly cooling coffee as she scanned the headlines. Gas prices rising, home values falling – what the hell were they going to do? They were just barely getting by with two salaries and with only one, money was tight. The kitchen was not even hitting 60 degrees in their attempt to save on heating oil. Of course, the trade off was frequent colds and sinus infections. She had looked at the credit card bill yesterday and was puzzled by the amount of gas they were charging. Glen had filled up his car twice a week last month. How was that possible? He hadn’t had an interview in weeks, and the grocery store, gym and coffee palace were all within five miles of the house. Where was he going that consumed that much gas, and how were they going to pay for it? Questioning Glen wasn’t an option. He would only get defensive and accuse her of micromanaging his life. Damn. They’d have to live on whatever food was left in the house to accommodate that bill. So much for fresh fruits and veggies.

Glancing at the clock, she began to pick up speed, after all, she had to be at work on time. Someone had to earn a living here. She gulped down what was left of her coffee, rinsed the mug and left it to dry in the wash rack. Pulling on her coat, she wrapped the scarf around her neck twice and threw the left side jauntily over her shoulder. At least her knitting hobby had some positive benefits. Heading into the garage she pushed the button, smiling knowing how much Glen hated the sound. With that, she climbed into her car and left for work.

Glen pulled the pillow over his head, trying to drown out the scraping, dissonant sound of the garage door. It was worse then fingernails on a chalkboard. He often wondered why Carol didn’t have the courtesy to leave her car in the driveway overnight so that he could sleep without the disturbance. Ever since he lost his job, she treated him like a serf, good only for the things he could do around the house. Carol could barely look him in the eye these days. It had been three months since they had sex. He was bored, lonely and horny, but the thought of sex with Carol brought no joy to his world. He’d rather do it himself then touch that cold hearted bitch wife of his.

Losing his job had put their relationship into perspective. They had shared their lives for twelve years, but the reality was there was nothing holding them together. Somehow, they’d managed to get by the miscarriages and the death of little Joanna. Little Joanna. She had lived only a few hours, but it was enough to forever tighten Glen’s heart. He would never let himself love that completely again.

Glen knew he’d reached the point of no return and slowly climbed out of bed. He yawned twice, blaming Carol for his exhaustion. He washed up and put on his gym clothes then headed into the kitchen. Carol had left him a stale cup of coffee, as usual. Of course, she conveniently forgot that he only drank decaf now, ever since he’d had that prostate scare. Typical of her, doing something that didn’t matter to him and then using it to make him feel beholden for her effort. He shook his head in exasperation, poured the remaining coffee down the drain. Opening the fridge, he decided there wasn’t anything worth the effort. He’d grab something at the gym. Glen adjusted his socks, checked his look in the hallway mirror, and headed off, knowing that there were plenty of women who appreciated him.

As he warmed up his car he thought about his latest connection, Jenni. She was blond, lithe, and connected. She had promised him an interview with her husband’s bank, but she’d yet to come through on the promise. He grinned, at least she came through in other ways. The poker game she ran kicked serious ass. Ever since she agreed to front him cash in exchange for weekly gas fill-ups, he had a reasonable ante once a week. He wondered if Carol would ever figure out how he was spending his time. It sucked having only his meager unemployment check to play with, and he suspected he would soon have to come up with some kind of explanation for his gas bills. Somehow he was reasonably sure playing poker with the girls was not an explanation Carol would applaud.

By the time he arrived at the gym, he was ready for his workout. Thank god their gym membership had been paid for the year. It was too bad they’d spent the money on Carol’s gym fee, she never set foot in the place, and looked it these days. He was so tired of her constant complaints. Glen had learned, quite conveniently, that there were women who appreciated him for his other skills. Who made him feel like a man in ways Carol had forgotten long ago. If only he could score a couple of more wins so that he could move to the higher stake men’s night game. He knew if he could just score enough cash he could beat those tv poker dudes. They were all show, and Glen would beat their asses. If he could put together enough money to buy into one of the big games. Poker was his game, his raison d’etre. But Carol would never understand, let alone help him get to where he needed to be.

As he showed his card to the front desk bunny, his cell rang. He glanced at the number. Carol. What now. “Hi babe what’s up?” “Sorry honey, I have to work late again tonight. Howard’s behind in the audit and I’ve got to help him catch up. Do you mind?” He sighed into the phone, pretending to give a damn. “It’s always Howard this and Howard that. Do you remember that you have a husband?” He grinned as he said the words, hoping they would make her squirm. “It’s hard to forget you, Glen. Oh, by the way, our credit card bill was way over the top this month – you’ve been charging an awful lot of gas. No more spending this month, we won’t be able to get by if you do.” He grimaced, at least he wouldn’t have to make up an excuse off the cuff. “Sorry honey, I’ll try and cut back. Gotta run.” With that, he hung up his phone and stowed his gym bag into the small metal locker, snapping the lock into itself.

Carol stared at the phone in disgust. What a useless loser. She turned to the papers on her desk and shuffled them once to keep them from overwhelming her. Howard looked at her compassionately, and asked, “So how much longer are you going to put up with him? My offer is still on the table.” She smiled at him, with a touch more longing then she realized and said, “It won’t be much longer. I just need to find a way to let him down easy.” Howard leaned over. “I’m looking forward to tonight. The usual place?” She nodded, knowing she’d get a decent dinner and some much needed lovin’ instead of canned food and a man who had stopped caring for her years ago. As much as she looked forward to starting a life with Howard, part of her still wondered what had gone wrong in her life with Glen. She shook it off and smiled at Howard.  They could make it work.  Though she’d never gambled a nickel in her life, Howard was a gamble she was willing to take.

By:  Lauren J. Walter  July 7, 2008