A GAMBLER'S HOLIDAY
A Special Four Page Holiday Bonus Issue

A short story by Elizabeth S.

Donna stole a peek at her watch and thought, I can stay for another half hour. She pushed the "Max Bet" button on the slot as she raised her eyes back to the spinning symbols. She knew this was no time to walk away. It had taken most of the mortgage payment to turn her luck around. As the minutes passed, the number of credits on the electronic readout continued to climb. Donna’s stoic face didn’t reflect her excited thoughts: It’s going to hit, it’s going to HIT. I’ve seen this pattern before, and it’s going to HIT!

A muted "Yes" escaped her lips 20 minutes later when 3 identical symbols, the slot’s 2^nd highest incentive, lined up on the pay line. As the raucous machine toted up the credits, Donna impatiently waited to push the button again. Barely 5 minutes later, the same 3 symbols stopped side-by-side again. Glancing at the credit total, Donna saw that she had recouped the mortgage payment plus a handsome sum she could use to start replenishing Ed’s college fund. But the machine would hit soon. She just knew it. Leaving the slot now was out of the question.

The accursed total in the credit window had begun to trend the other way; but Donna had seen this pattern too. She studied the readout and realized that one more unsuccessful push of the button would take a bite out of the mortgage payment, again. Still, the machine was behaving as if it would pay, and pay big. She pressed the button. And pressed. And pressed.

Donna decided to abandon the button and pull the handle a few times to change her luck. When she tired of pulling instead of pushing and looked at the credit box, the heady total had been more than halved. She looked at her watch. Keith’s birthday party had started almost 2 hours ago. She reasoned that, if she could wave a fistful of hundreds at her husband and eldest son when she returned, Jim and Ed would accept dealing with a houseful of rambunctious 11-year-old boys without her. Donna sat up straighter to relieve her tired back and muttered under her breath, "No guts, no glory," as she slapped at the "Max Bet" button again. Soon she knew this "quick stop" after work would end the same way they always ended; she hadn’t left the casino with any money in months. Half an hour later, Donna derived a perverse satisfaction when a final pull of the handle produced a lone zero on the credit readout. Now she could leave the garish, smoke-filled casino and go home.

Hours later, Donna lay alone on the king-size bed, wracked sporadically by a dry sob. Jim had already moved clothing and other necessities into the guest room when she got home. Though exhausted and emotionally drained, sleep eluded Donna as the brief conversation with her husband insistently replayed in her befuddled mind. When she entered her home, she immediately knew the elaborate lie she had concocted on the way home would serve no purpose. Keith had quietly acknowledged her apology and given her a hug and a kiss as he headed off to his room. Ed matter-of-factly continued cleaning up the debris from the party as his father gestured Donna into the den.

Her husband’s first words hit Donna like a sledge hammer. "You have until next weekend to find a place to live. I’ll give you what it takes to get an inexpensive place, and Ed and I will help you move."

When Donna finally responded, "But Keith needs his mother," Jim’s only reply was a withering look.

Donna tried again. "But Thanksgiving is coming up. Please, Jim, just give me one last chance. I’ll quit."

"Thanksgiving wasn’t that important last year when you left to get a pound of butter at 11 and didn’t get back until 8. This isn’t open for discussion, Donna. Ed and I talked it all out over a month ago. We’ve given you 3 ‘last chances.’ Keith may be able to forgive you for missing his birthday, but I can’t. It’s settled." With that, Jim wheeled and left the room, never having raised his voice, nor shown any emotion except implacable determination.

Donna stayed away from the casino, seeking opportunities throughout the week to open a discussion with Jim. On her third attempt, he handed her the classifieds, folded open to rental ads; then he simply started avoiding her. Desperate, she implored her eldest son one morning as he bolted a quick breakfast before work.

"Ed, can’t you reason with your father? Keith is too young to be on his own after school."

"My boss has agreed to let me start my shift early, so I can be home before Keith gets out of school. I can help him with his homework and get dinner started before Dad gets home."

Ed’s mother began to cry as she declared, "That’s no life for a 19-year-old ... you should be in college, not working a full-time job and playing mother to your little brother." Donna cried even harder as she contemplated the reason Ed hadn’t been able to realize his long-standing college plans. Studying oceanography wasn’t an option at the university across town, and the money Ed, along with his parents, had earmarked for the prestigious out-of-state school was part of the tens of thousands she had left at the casino.

His compassion was evident as Ed responded, "Mom, I’ll get to school. It’ll just be a few years after I planned. Not the end of the world, okay?" His voice caught as he continued, "I know you can’t help it. It’s like you’re hooked on drugs, or something. I hope you can find some help. I love you, Mom," her son said as he gave her an awkward hug before leaving.

Before Donna left for work, she tucked the classifieds into her purse. By Friday she found a furnished studio. Inexpensive. Jim made the check out to the management company. The move on Saturday required only one trip, with both vehicles packed solid. Jim let Keith ride to the apartment with Donna. Ed rode with Jim. A small box filled with framed photos nestled in Keith’s arms. His reddened, swollen eyes remained dry. Mother and son discussed his hockey team’s chances in the upcoming holiday tournament.

Unloading complete, Donna pulled Jim aside before his and the boys’ departure. Her husband agreed to let Donna call Keith once a week, but, trust destroyed, he insisted their youngest son would be better off not spending time with his mother. Donna couldn’t marshal an argument to counter the list of neglect and disappointments she knew Jim had on the tip of his tongue. And he remained adamant about Thanksgiving.

Donna determined that she would get everything put away and try to make the studio seem like a home before she thought of doing anything else. She would work until she was finished. She started with a box of clothing from her dresser. As she placed underwear in one of the drawers built into the wall, a staccato click drew her attention to a rectangular piece of plastic that had slipped out of a stack of folded panties. The only one of the surreptitiously acquired credit cards Jim hadn’t discovered. In a bout of remorse, Donna had hidden the card weeks before, promising herself she wouldn’t use it. Resolutely, she slid the card back and continued to unpack.

As she surveyed the small stack of boxes beside the tiny kitchen area, Donna found that she still had tears to cry. She collapsed in a heap on the floor and then prostrated herself on the nubby carpet as she surrendered to despair. Eventually, she moaned aloud.

"It hurts so bad.... How can I live without my family? ... I can’t do this." The progression of her gambling obsession played relentlessly through her mind. The litany of memories flayed her like a supple leather whip. The lies, broken promises and broken dreams assaulted her unmercifully. Again, she cried out, "I can’t do this." The pain became too great. Slowly, Donna regained her feet and shuffled the short distance to the drawer where she had placed the panties.

The first hint of dawn stained the Eastern sky as she drove away from the casino. "Thanksgiving," she told herself. For 5 days and nights, she had gambled and gone to work. She had spent only enough time at the studio to shower and put on fresh clothes once a day. And twice she had tumbled into an hour or 2 of fitful sleep. Donna had planned to spend the day gambling, but the last card was maxed out. "No money, and no way to get any. Happy Thanksgiving."

Often Donna had driven away from the casino pounding the steering wheel, cursing and screaming as she berated herself for her stupidity. Occasionally, she entertained the thought of giving the wheel the tiny turn required to ram her car into a concrete abutment at one of the 3 highway bridges on the route into town. In the midst of this morning’s frightening calm, she slowed slightly as she approached the first bridge and purposefully eyed the abutment. She experimented with accelerating as she neared the second. As she covered the 6 or 7 miles to the last bridge, Donna assessed the chances of success if she acted. "If I decide to live," she told herself, "I’ll dial the number."

A few hours earlier, she had copied the number of the Gamblers Anonymous hotline from a flyer taped to the wall beside the hand dryer in the restroom. As her high beams illuminated the approaching bridge, Donna thought of the last line on the flyer. In bold print, it read, "We CAN recover!" Suddenly, she lifted her foot off the accelerator as the pedal seemed to burn the sole of her foot. She grasped the wheel with painful force and focused her eyes on the road at the end of the bridge as she coasted across.

"Six-thirty," Donna said when she entered her apartment. "I can’t call at this hour." She decided to resume unpacking and organizing the studio to fill a couple of hours. The clock read almost 9 when she could find nothing left to do. She immediately dug the number out of her purse and dialed, before she could convince herself the call wasn’t really necessary.

On the second ring, a gruff but friendly male voice boomed, "Happy Thanksgiving!"

Confused, Donna stammered, "I was calling Gamblers Anonymous."

The voice assured her she had dialed correctly and got straight to the point. "Do you have a gambling problem?"

Within a few minutes Donna had been assured the Thursday night meeting would take place that night. She carefully noted the time and location. Joe S., as he had introduced himself, asked Donna if she wanted to join his family for their holiday dinner; when she politely declined he urged her to call him back if she changed her mind or needed to talk. After hanging up, Donna set the alarm before she took a long, hot shower then fell into a dreamless sleep on the studio’s daybed. She awoke groggy at the strident alarm’s insistence. Hunger pangs made her wonder how long it had been since she last ate. She remembered opening the box of dry foods as she had gotten settled. Donna hadn’t packed the box, and she wondered again who had. The discovery had elicited another wave of pain and heartache.

She selected a packet of instant oatmeal from the cupboard and heated water in the ancient microwave Jim had lugged from the garage. After eating, she hurriedly dressed and left the apartment. "Don’t think about it; just go."

Donna followed Joe’s directions to the meeting room at a local church and found half a dozen people laughing and sharing tales of how much they had overeaten. A table in the corner of the room held a coffee pot and a generous spread of Thanksgiving leftovers. Four women and 2 men welcomed the newcomer and introduced themselves as they moved towards a small circle of chairs in the middle of the room.

People took turns reading from a bright, yellow pamphlet, and time and again Donna felt as if the words had been written to describe her. When they spoke, most of the members expressed their gratitude for the changes they said Gamblers Anonymous had brought to their lives. A woman named Sandy spoke at length about what her life had been like when she gambled compulsively. Donna felt the words Sandy spoke would be just as accurate coming from her own lips. She felt a stir of hope. Someone understood. When the man in charge asked Donna to share what brought her to the meeting, Donna spoke softly, determining that she would not cry. "The book describes me. Sandy’s story could be my story." After a visible struggle to get the words out, Donna finished simply by saying, "I need help."

When everyone had spoken, the group stood and joined hands. Donna listened as they recited a prayer together. Then someone said, "Let’s see if we can make a dent in this food!" When everyone had eaten his or her fill, the regulars prevailed on Donna to take home several plates with a generous portion of every dish. They insisted their refrigerators at home were already full.

Later, as everyone walked together towards their cars, Sandy asked, "Will you exchange phone numbers with me? I’d like to give you a call this weekend to see how things are going."

"I just moved and don’t have a phone yet. It’ll probably take a couple of weeks."

"Well, let me give you my number, so you can call when you get your phone. Or whenever you want to call. Okay?"

"Okay," Donna agreed, and she waited as Sandy dug around for a pen and pulled a small notebook from her purse.

While she wrote, Sandy said, "It will probably be really hard at first, Donna. The urge to gamble can come out of nowhere. That’s why we have a list of each other’s numbers. Someone who understands and cares is as close as the nearest phone. I hope you’ll call if you need to talk. Or just to say ‘hi.’"

On Saturday, when Donna found herself thinking of ways to get money to gamble with, she pulled out the list of GA meetings she had been given 2 days earlier. She found a meeting was scheduled in 2 hours, not too far from home. She went and received another warm welcome, more encouragement and more phone numbers. She left knowing she could make it through Saturday.

Donna called Sandy the following day, and before the call ended Sandy had acceded to Donna’s request to be her sponsor. Donna vowed to herself that she would seek counsel whenever she needed it and follow her sponsor’s suggestions.

Donna had made Sandy aware of the circumstances of her personal life in that first phone call, and Sandy understood Donna’s decision to seek a second job to increase her income. Her sponsor congratulated Donna when she heard, "I start at Feinstein’s Saturday, clerking in the toy department. And if they like my work, the job may last beyond the Christmas rush!"

A few weeks after Donna’s first meeting, Jim had called and told Donna that Keith could spend Christmas Eve with her if she wanted him. If she wanted! Donna bought a few festive decorations, with which she transformed her studio. Ed came with Keith, and the 3 followed the tradition instituted when Ed was only 4 years old. When the boys left, they carried brightly colored stars, trees and Santas–cookies they had baked and decorated with their mother. After Christmas Donna and Keith routinely spent Saturday afternoons together ice skating, going to the zoo or the library, swimming. Ed joined them when he could

Over the coming months, Sandy guided Donna in working GA’s Recovery Steps. As part of the steps, Donna took a moral inventory of herself. While she couldn’t say she ‘enjoyed’ doing the inventory, Donna was grateful for the self-knowledge she gained as a result. Early in her GA experience Donna had shifted much of the blame for her behavior to other people, but as she worked the steps she came to recognize and accept her responsibility for the acts she performed and the damage she did to the people she loved. And to herself.

She had urges to gamble, but when they came–she called! When she couldn’t reach Sandy or Joe, she called someone else she knew. Once, when she kept getting answering machines, she decided to start at the end of the list and work her way back. Soon she was talking to a woman named Wanda. After about half an hour, as they wrapped up the conversation, Wanda told Donna, "I’m so glad you called, Donna. I needed to talk to someone today too." Donna could hear the smile in Wanda’s voice.

Keith invited Donna to his 12^th birthday celebration–just family this year. Seeing her questioning face, her son assured Donna, "Dad knows I’m asking you."

As Donna was leaving after the family dinner, Jim asked, "Do you want to spend Thanksgiving with us?"

"I’d love to," Donna replied. "If you like, I’ll pre-bake the turkey at my place and finish it here. I could come in time to help with everything." Jim accepted her proposal.

As the family topped off the delicious meal with pumpkin pie, Donna tentatively said, "I’ve been going to Gamblers Anonymous."

"What’s that?" Keith asked.

"It’s a group where people like me–people addicted to gambling–help each other stop gambling."

"Great!" Keith shouted, and Jim and Ed expressed their happiness for her.

"Next Thursday is a special meeting, and family members are welcome. I would like all of you to be there, if you can," Donna said in a soft, somewhat apprehensive tone.

Keith and Ed looked at Jim, who said, "We’ll see. I’ll call you next week, okay?"

Donna nodded and departed for her own place shortly after, laden with leftovers, of course.

Early the following week, Jim called Donna. "Ed’s coming to your meeting. I don’t know if Keith and I will be there or not. Maybe he’s too young to be exposed to that kind of stuff."

Donna’s first instinct was to question what kind of "stuff" her husband thought Keith would be exposed to, but she checked her response and simply said, "Well, I hope you two will come too."

Before saying goodbye, Jim got directions to the meeting and said he would pass them on to Ed.

Donna called Sandy and asked if she could stop by her sponsor’s home to talk that evening. When Donna expressed anxiety about whether the whole family would attend the meeting, Sandy advised her to "Turn it over." Donna knew exactly what Sandy meant. Over the past year, she had learned that fretting about situations she had no control over wasted time and energy and accomplished nothing. Ideally, as someone in recovery, Donna would be able to let go of the situation in question and rest assured in the knowledge that God’s will would bring about the best result.

The friends’ conversation continued and Donna said with a wry smile, "I spent the weekend fantasizing about the wonderful presents I would get everyone with the money I’ve been saving. I could give them the best Christmas ever!"

Sandy inquired, "The money you’re saving for Ed’s college?"

Donna laughed and replied, "Yes, that money. Then I realized all my day-dreaming about dirt bikes and snowmobiles and golf clubs was a classic example of that sick, grandiose gambler’s thinking! The old me is waiting in the wings if I don’t keep my head in the Program, isn’t it."

"The old you, the old me ... complacency may be our most dangerous enemy. After all the kids and grandkids left on Thanksgiving, I came within a hair of staying zonked out in the recliner. ‘What a great day!’ I told myself, ‘But, I am so tired. It won’t hurt to skip the meeting.’"

"I was sure glad you were there! What changed your mind?"

"I thought, ‘What if there’s a newcomer?’ Attendance is pretty light on Thanksgiving; every year I wonder if I’ll be the only one there! But our little group of hardcore GAs always comes through."

As Donna walked towards her car after hugging Sandy goodbye at the front door, she turned and said, "Last Thanksgiving, I was the newcomer." Tears of gratitude sprang to her eyes.

On Thursday, Ed arrived about 15 minutes early. As people began to take their seats in the large, double circle, Donna kept her eyes on the door. Jim and Keith hesitantly walked in a minute or 2 before the meeting was to start. Donna waved and pointed to 2 chairs beside Ed.

After the portion of the meeting in which people are awarded plastic key chains to denote milestones in their abstinence from gambling, the Secretary inquired with a big grin, "Anybody with ONE YEAR?" Donna raised her hand as the members applauded enthusiastically.

After Sandy pinned a small, gold "GA" on her sponsoree’s collar, Donna began, "I’m Donna, and I’m a compulsive gambler. My first meeting after my last bet was Thanksgiving night of last year." After even louder applause than before, Donna continued. She spoke from her heart, and though tears threatened a few times, she continued speaking in a steady voice. Her words revealed the heartache she had experienced as she came to acknowledge the wrongs she had done. Before she closed, she made a formal apology to her husband and her sons, and, almost choked by tears, she told them how much their presence meant to her.

As they said their goodbyes in the parking lot after the meeting, Keith and Ed each gave their mother a big bear hug. Jim told Donna how happy he was for her. Again, Donna expressed her heartfelt thanks that they had come.

The following Monday, Donna received a phone call at work from Jim. "Keith’s class is planning a field trip over the holiday vacation. I think you and I should discuss it. I was wondering if you want to talk about it over dinner Friday evening." Donna accepted, of course, and they agreed to meet at the restaurant.

After they ordered their meal, Jim told Donna about the skiing trip Keith’s class planned for the week between Christmas and New Year’s. Both agreed Keith was old enough to spread his wings.

Then Jim said, "We had a talk last weekend, the 3 of us." Then he lapsed into silence.

"A talk?" Donna inquired. After a long pause, Jim continued.

"We’ve watched you change over the last year. You seemed to be responsible. If you said you’d be at Keith’s hockey game, you’d be there. Your address hasn’t changed, so I assumed you were paying the rent every month. You really took me by surprise a few months ago when you paid back the money I gave you to move into the apartment." More silence.

"Yes?" Donna encouraged.

"But we didn’t know what to believe!" Jim exploded. "You’ve pulled it together for a month or 2 before. And then you’d be off and running again. Do you have any idea how close we came to losing the house? Ed will be lucky if he starts school by the time he’s 22 or 3! For a long time, Keith didn’t know what was going on; he just knew his mother had disappeared and a moody, irresponsible, look-a-like liar had taken her place!" Jim’s voice was low, controlled, but angry. Donna quietly waited.

A minute or so later, the server appeared with their meal. Donna and Jim busied themselves with spreading their napkins, arranging glasses and beginning to cut their meat. Neither took a bite.

Finally, Donna said simply, "Everything you’ve said is true."

"Damn straight it’s all true," Jim replied. "And more. You put your family through hell."

"I know."

The couple picked at the meal, took a bite or 2, then found themselves just looking at each other across the table.

Jim expended the effort to continue. "Ed, Keith and I talked for hours. None of us have forgotten what those last few years were like. I don’t know if we’ll ever forget. Can you?"

"I can’t afford to forget, Jim. I’ll be a compulsive gambler for the rest of my life. The day I forget what I did to you guys, and to myself, is the day ...." Donna’s voice was filled with determination when she declared, "I can’t afford to forget .... But I can continue to move on."

Jim replied with words Donna had sometimes despaired of ever hearing.

"Can we all move on? Do you think we can try again?"

"I want to," Donna whispered, then smiled at Jim’s reply.

"Then let’s decide to wake up together this Christmas morning."
                                                    END