I was on my second cup of coffee when he finally came strolling into the quaint space looking like he’d been up all night.
“Nice of you to join me.” I crossed my arms, leaning back in my chair.
“Sorry. I was just finishing up something and time got away from me.” As he got closer, his breath reeked of alcohol.
When Jackson reached out to me years ago, I didn’t think the extent of our relationship would be as distant as it had been while living in the same city.
“Time got away from you, huh? Meaning you were at the blackjack table again? Partying out on the Strip?” I gave him a look that told him I knew everything.
It was obvious he didn’t go to bed last night and he was waltzing in after hours of playing cards or fucking off in the same wrinkled outfit he’d been in when he started his Friday night. Most likely, losing every dollar to his name.
Call it a hunch, but it didn’t take much to figure out he was desperate for help, crawling out of whatever hole he’d gotten himself in. That’s why he asked to meet up this morning.
“I was with the guys last night. Time got away from us. We were just having a good time.” He huffed, running his fingers through his hair.
“Let’s get some food before we dive into whatever you need from me this time.”
We both looked down at our menus, the silence deafening between us. Me, wondering how much money he’d beg me for and what his excuse would be. Him, most likely thinking about how he could possibly ask me the same thing he always asked me—but make it sound different.
The waiter came and went, both of us ordering the eggs benedict. If I had to guess, probably the only thing we had in common.
“What is it this time?” My words were cold. Tired. Over being used by my son.
He reached out for his water with shaky hands. “I’m in trouble,” he mumbled.
He was always in trouble. He always needed a few hundred bucks. I was his own personal ATM at this point. But every time he told me about his troubles, I was torn between giving him tough love and feeling the guilt that had eaten me up over the years that I hadn’t been in his life. Usually, I ended up handing over the money. I had fucking loads of it, so, why not? But the businessman in me, the grown and mature man, wanted to say, ‘fuck no, learn your lesson.’
When he first moved out here, we were on a path of getting to know each other and adjusting to being father and son. The longer he lived in Vegas, though, he became a different person. Not the kid I first met, fresh out of college and eager to hit the city.
“What kind of trouble are you in, Jackson?”
His dark eyes that matched mine wandered around the restaurant, skittish and concerned.
“I owe some guys a little bit of money,” he whispered, the worry evident in his voice.
Histroubleusually consisted of blowing his money so he couldn’t pay his bills. But as time had gone on, it seemed his problems were only getting worse. This being the most worrisome of trouble I’ve heard from him as of lately.
Owing money to anyone in Vegas was never a good sign.
“How much money?” I needed to know the amount to decipher just how bad this really was.
“Five hundred.” Shaking my head, feeling like a fucking fool for leading my mind down the worst possible direction, I pulled my wallet from my back pocket and fished out five one-hundred-dollar bills, placing them in front of him.
“Thousand,” he finished; his gaze dipped directly at the cash and refused to make eye contact with mine.
“Come again?” I spat, my jaw hardening.
“Dad, I … I owe five hundred thousand dollars.”
When he called meDad,it still shook me. It was new. Different. Even though we’d known each other for a few years now, it still didn’t sound normal coming from him. It sounded like a cry for help.
“Mind telling me how in thefuckyou got into that kind of debt?”
He remained silent, his head down, lips tight.
“If you want any kind of help, any way out of this mess you’re in, I’m going to need every fucking detail.” I waited for him to gain the courage to speak, his brown eyes that looked so much like my own finally looking back at me.
“I met a guy a while back during a night out. We were playing cards together. It was a rare night that I was hitting every hand, finally stacking my chips. I was on a fucking roll. One minute, I had red chips turning into green, and before I knew it, I was playing hands with purple chips. The guy started to notice. He looked at me like I knew what the fuck I was doing, and we got to talking…” He paused when our waiter stopped by to drop off our food.
