Push(51)

Matt and his friends swap money for chips and sit down at a table to play. I try to climb gracefully out of my chair, but I end up stumbling away. I can hear Carl and his table mates chuckling softly at my drunken gawkiness. I am clearly more intoxicated than I thought. My head is light, and despite my confusion about Matt, I feel euphoric. I feel perfect.
But I also have to pee. As I am walking toward the hallway at the front of the room that I suspect leads to the restrooms, I feel a hand grab my arm and turn me around. My dizzy head moves faster than my eyes, and it takes me a few seconds to realize that it is David who has stopped me. His hand is still holding my arm, and I see fire racing across his face. What’s this? He must be angry with me for getting so drunk, for sitting so close to Carl, for flirting and doing shots and waving to Matt. Oh, he’s mad. He’s really mad. I haven’t seen this from him, and frankly, I’m surprised at the intensity of it.
Both his hands are holding me now, gripping my upper arms. Steadying me. His face looks cross, and his brow is tight.
“You promised,” he says sharply. “You can’t leave.” What?
“I’m not leaving, you ass. I’m taking a piss.” Relief brushes across his face, and his eyes briefly close.
“The bathrooms are in the back,” he says with a sigh. And then his arms are around me, and his tongue is sweeping into my mouth. Right here in front of this room full of people, he is kissing me like a f*cking porn star.
When he pulls away, he tells me that he thought I was bailing because he didn’t tell me about knowing Matt. He tells me what I already know—that this gambling ring is private. And illegal. No one is supposed to talk about it outside of Tuesday nights. Outside of this room. They could all go to jail for a very long time if they let the wrong person in the door. I lean into him and joke that I’ll be sure to keep all their shenanigans under my hat.
“Shhhh,” I say, with so much drunken silliness that I want to punch myself, “it’s all good, baby. I got your back. Because you, David Calgaro, are one fine-ass man.” I pat him irreverently on the chest, and he shakes his head at my sloppy drunkenness. My neck feels floppy, and I roll it backwards and start to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” he says with a grin.
“Me. I’m funny,” I say, poking myself in the chest with my own index finger. “When that half-dressed girl kissed you earlier, I wanted to wring both of your f*cking necks.” Oh, this is bad. I am going to say more than I should. I am about to engage in the whole so-drunk-it’s-embarrassing thing. “I wanted to knock you both to your knees. David, I don’t give a flying f*ck about your knowing Matt. It’s business. Whatever. But what I do give a flying f*ck about is you. You, David Calgaro. I give a flying f*ck about you.” Oh, sweet Jesus. What am I doing?
David is grinning at me. No, he’s laughing at me, and my face starts to feel the heat of my own embarrassment. I am blushing, and he likes it.
“Go, take your piss,” he says, after a beat. “Then, come find me. I’ll see your flying f*ck and raise you an indescribable benefit.”
When I come out of the bathroom, David is sitting at the card table with Carl and a few other men. He has a stack of chips in front of him, and I get the feeling he is about to kick Carl’s ass. He looks at me as I walk over to the table. Carl hands me another drink.
David motions for me to bend down so he can tell me something. In a whisper he says, “I’m going to score one of those benefits for you right now, Emma. Whatever you want.”
I shift my head so that my mouth brushes against his ear. “All I want is for you to give a flying f*ck about me, too,” I murmur. I look straight ahead. I don’t want to see David’s face for fear he might be snarking at my drunken declaration.
But instead of laugher I hear, “Already done.” And I feel myself tighten inside.
“I’m glad to see you two found each other,” Carl says loudly. “You’re quite the pair.” His eyes move up and down my body before falling on David’s face with a scandalous grin.
“Fuck you, Carl,” David spits. “Keep your mouth shut and play.”
“Rent’s due the first of every month, sweetie,” Carl says to me. “Don’t forget. I wouldn’t want to have to kick you out.” It feels like a threat.
“Screw you, Carl,” I tease, not believing this is the same man I was flirting and laughing with a few minutes before.
David looks up at me, and even with my glazed eyes, I can see that he is pleased.
For the next hour, they play. And I drink. The rest of the room slowly clears out, and before I know it, our table is the only one left. Even Matt and his friends have disappeared. Despite the fact that I don’t know a thing about poker, I know that David is winning and Carl is frustrated as hell. He is no longer laughing and teasing and telling stories. Instead he is swearing and scowling and making cracks about what a shitty maintenance man David is. David is just soaking it all in. It must be par for the course on Tuesday nights. But it is all getting too serious for me. I want to push Carl’s face into the table, to smack him upside the head. To tell him to go f*ck himself. I am sinking in anger. Anger fueled by alcohol. And by lust. I want David to put down his cards, punch Carl in the face, then scoop me up and take me home.
But what I get instead is a rush of vertigo. And a second later my hands slide down David’s bird-covered arms, and I am on the floor.



chapter Twenty-Three

Jenny

I am sitting on this bridge contemplating everything that is right in the world. There is so much that is right. So much that is good. I love this world, I love this man, and I love this city. In the wake of hurricane Katrina so many of my friends left, but I stayed. I’m thankful that I did, because if I had gone, I would never have met David. And I would never have had the opportunity to fall in love with such a strange and exceptional man. David is thoughtful and comforting, and the energy he gives my life is precisely why I can say that I love him more than I have loved anybody. Ever. I need to be with somebody whose control keeps my chaos in check.