Affair With A Gambler

I rang her bell. I was shocked when a man answered. I explained that I
must have the wrong apartment. He assured me that if I were looking
for Emma O'Toole, I had the right one. He invited me inside. Rather
than look like a fool, I went in. I had driven but hadn't bothered to
bring the camper. I had expected to spend my time with Em.

"I see you haven't checked into a motel yet. May I suggest the
Riviera. It isn't too far and actually is quite nice," the man
suggested.

"Excuse me, but who the hell are you?" I asked.

"I'm so sorry," He wasn't of course. "I am Winthrop Morton, Emma's
fiancee," he informed me with a smug smile.

"When did all this happen and where is Emma?" I snapped.

"It happened a couple of days ago, and Em is at work. She should be
home in an hour or so. You of course may wait," he said.

"Is this your apartment Winnie?" It was definitely a step up from the
hole in the wall place Emma had occupied in New York.

"Actually it is and the name is Winthrop," he said on the edge of
anger.

"Tell you what Winnie. I think I will be moving on. Nice to have met
you." We had been like a couple of male dogs circling each other from
the start. I drove my truck to the Georgian Terrace Hotel and checked
in. I had heard about the hotel on TV. It was the same hotel which
accommodated the movie stars stayed during the premier of ‘Gone With
the Wind.’ I enjoyed the idea of sleeping under the same roof as
Vivian Leigh and of course Clark Gable. I knew it was hokey but I
found it rather nostalgic.

I called Emma's office the next day and spoke to her. "Emma, I met
your fiancee last night. I wish you had told me about him before I
knocked on your door." I said.

"I didn't expect you to just show up at my door," she countered.

"Why not, you show up at mine all the time," I said angrily.

"Well you don't, that's all. I understand you and Winthrop had a nice
conversation," she said.

"Is that what Winnie said?" I asked.

"Well not exactly, his comment was more like, I certainly had some
obnoxious friends."

"At least he is smarter than I thought," I replied.

"Oh yes, he can recognize a rude person when he sees one. Come have
lunch with me anyway," she demanded in an almost girlish voice.

"Sure why not." I met her for lunch at her private club. It wasn't,
thank goodness, Winnie's club. We laughed at poor Winnie 's expense
for a couple of hours.

"He really is a dear," she said.

"I never heard you describe anyone that way. Either you have changed
your speech habits for Winnie, or that is a nice way of saying he is a
jerk," I commented.

"Oh no, he isn't a jerk. He is just rather inbred." I couldn't help
it. I spit my water all over her as I laughed.

"I'm glad to know there is a difference. Please explain the difference
to a poor county boy from the back woods of South Carolina?" I begged.

"A couple of million-bucks and three newspapers darling," she said.

"Oh he doesn't by any chance play poker does he. I am not having my
best year."

"Oh, he has a rather wonderful card club. Strictly for gentlemen you
know. I'm afraid you could never hope to play there," she teased.

"The club's loss, I assure you. They might like to take some of my
money. You know, show the bumpkin from the wilds, how a gentleman's
game is played."

"I'm sure, but I don't think I shall tell him, that you are even
remotely familiar with the game of poker," she said seriously.

"Shame, if I can play him for six hours, I will own the three papers,"
I said.

"That would be even worse. I would for sure not be able to get any
work done then," she replied.

"How you do compliment me," I said. "Of course, in the past you never
had any problem leaving me to work."

"I know, but you know what an awfully selfish bitch I am," she said.

"You know I always loved you, because you call a spade a shovel," I
said with a warm smile.

"Thank you Ed. God I am going to miss you," she said.

"You really going to marry this jerk?" I asked.

"Yes, I am going to marry that inbred, blue blood. I will wind up
running at least one of his papers. I want that more than anything. I
am over forty, Ed. I want to be married and I want children. Of
course, I also want to be the big boss of the paper," she said with a
confident smile.

"With Winnie you get at least part of it," I said.

"Right, with you I get none of it," she commented sadly.

"Just the fun, none of the material goodies," I admitted.

"Well walks on the beach. coffee on the fishing pier, and great sex
everywhere, is vastly over rated," she said.

"If you believe that, then I should be invited to your wedding," I
said as a joke.

"No way, I am not going to subject Winnie to seeing me with a better
man," she said smiling at me.

"God, I am going to miss you," I admitted.

"Not all that much, I may still take my vacations in Myrtle Beach,"
she said with a smile I didn't recognize.

"You wouldn't dare," I guessed.

"Of course I would. Winnie is such a child, he will never know.
Besides I slept with you longer than I have Winnie. I dare say more
often along with it."

"Well I really can't help it I know this is a tacky question," I began
with a large wicked smile.

"Don't ask, you are," she said.

"And what do you tell Winnie?" I asked.

"The same thing, why Winnie dear, you know you are the best," she said
with a schoolgirls giggle.

"God you are a bitch," I observed.

"Guilty, now do your thing, then call me at the office before you
leave. Where are you staying by the way?" she asked.

"The Terrace of course," I admitted.

"That God awful place. The only reason it is still standing, is
because the cast of Gone with the Wind once stayed there," she
informed me.

"I know, ain't it cool," I said.

"God you are a bumpkin. I will try to call you some afternoon before
you go," she promised.

"Good, not before three though," I reminded her.

"I remember. I remember being in your arms till three in the
afternoon. The sun so hot that we were both soaked in sweat. God, get
out of here before I decide not to marry Winnie."

"If I asked you not to, what would you say?" I asked.

"Good-bye love, don't ask." she demanded.

The two of them were married that summer. I wasn't invited, but I
could imagine that it was a big event in Atlanta. She sent me a
clipping on two. I wish she hadn't. I wasn't real thrilled with the
wedding.

True to her word, she came at least once a year to visit me. She had a
baby the first year they were married. A little girl, I was never
allowed to see. Even after the child was born she visited me once or
twice a year.

I turned forty-nine a few days before the call. It came on a
Wednesday. I remember it, because I was packing up for an art show on
the beach. It was a dreary day. The weather seemed to all ready know
what I was about to learn.

"Hello Ed, this is Winthrop Morton. I'm afraid I have some rather bad
news for you." His voice was breaking with every word. I knew, I knew
from his voice and the fact that he had even called. "Emma is gone?"

I forced him to say it. "Gone, you mean she has left you?"

"No, she is dead," He had a hard time going on. I had to prompt him. I
was shaken and had to sit, but I still needed to hear it all.

"How Winthrop?"

"She was killed in a robbery the night before last." His voice fell
apart and I waited till he composed himself.

"Winthrop I know this is hard, but I need to know. Was it a street
crime or what."

"They broke into our home and robbed us. They raped and murdered her.
Is that enough detail for you?" he asked angrily.

"Okay Winthrop calm down. When did this happen?" I asked.

"Night before last, around eight. We were leaving to meet friends for
a dinner, when they burst into the house," he admitted.

"Is Sarah all right?" I asked.

"She is very upset, of course, but she is fine. She was staying with
friends, since her mother and I were going out for the evening, he
informed me.

"That's something to be thankful for at least . What can I do
Winthrop?" I knew there was some reason he had called me. We weren't
friends. I doubted he would ever have called me, if he hadn't been
forced.

"I have been going through Emma's personal effects, I found a letter
to you. Actually it was inside a letter to me. I am holding it for
you. Emma in her letter to me, asks that we both accompany her body to
High Point for burial."

I really didn't understand, but if she wanted me to accompany her
home, then of course I would. "When does the plane leave Winthrop?"

"Tomorrow at one," he replied.

"I'll meet you at the airport in Atlanta. Give me the flight
information." I didn't want to attend her funeral. It would be full of
people I didn't know. The funeral was for her friends and family. The
internment was supposed to be for me, and I guess Winthrop.

I spent the evening visiting with Jack Daniels. He and I reminisced
about my encounters with the beautiful newspaper woman. I had been
there to see her rise from obscurity, to managing editor of an Atlanta
paper. Even though she had married the boss, I supposed she had done a
good job. I knew she had, if she hadn't, she would have fired herself.

I drank myself to sleep that night . The next morning I awoke feeling
pretty rough. I didn't have time to pamper the headache. I tossed a
bag with a spare suit into the truck then headed for Atlanta.

I arrived at the airport at noon. I checked in, just to make sure the
flight was on time. I paid for my ticket, then left my suitcase. I
went to the coffee shop for food and coffee. The coffee, I needed
most. Emma's death was still working its way through the layers of my
brain. I had felt the loss of a dear friend last night, and mourned
her passing. In the coffee shop I mourned the passing of a lover. As
the loss sank deeper into my brain, I began to realize that I had lost
much more than a friend and lover. I had lost another of the tenuous
contacts I had with the real world.

I was three different people, and all three were frauds. I played
artist on occasion, I pretended to be an upright businessman when I
played cards. Emma was the only one who knew the real me. And even
that was a fraud. I had wanted desperately to posses her but never
tried. I was afraid I couldn't sustain a relationship, and feared the
loss of her. Of course, I lost her anyway.

With her passing, I felt desperately alone. She had somehow been my
lifeline to the real world. Without her, I might well drift off into
one of the impersonations, never to join the world of real people
again. I might become a man without an identity. The one Emma saw was
the closest to a real person. Without her to keep it alive, I might be
lost.

My mourning took on a personal note. Everybody mourns loved ones, by
judging their death's effect on them. We try not to, because we see it
as selfish, but everybody does it . Most just never admit it, even
them themselves.

My grief was interrupted when Winthrop called my name. I shook his
hand, something I had never done before. He handed me the letter with
a sad expression on his face.

"There has been a change in plans. I chartered a plane to fly us up to
High Point. I really didn't want to be around strangers today. I just
don't think I could stand it."

The plane hit a down draft and seemed to fall from the sky. It caught
the wind again and lifted itself back to level flight. The sudden
violent movement shocked me from my walk down memory lane. I looked
down at the letter I held in my hand. It was addressed to me in the
same sloppy handwriting I had seen on dozens of good-bye notes I had
at home. Emma lived by the written word. She always left me a note
hidden in the cabin, to be found after she had gone. I actually had
saved them all. I dreaded this one, but I tore the envelope and read.

"Dear Ed,

Since you are reading this, I am dead. God that sounds so permanent,
and so very sad. Not for me, my pain will have ended. Yours and
Winthrop's will just be starting. There are things that I can not say
in this letter, since I can not be assured that it will not be read by
someone else. They are things that you must discover on your own, if
you wish.

Ed, Winthrop is not as strong as you. I beg you to help him through
this. Obviously I don't know what will take my life, but whatever it
is Winthrop can not cope alone. If he will allow it, I beg that you
help him. I also beg you to see Sarah, when the time is right, tell
her about me. It is important that she not follow the path I followed.
I waited too long and missed too much for the sake of a job. Please
make sure she doesn't do the same.

Finally, I must tell you this, even if it is read by others. I loved
you. I loved you from the moment I saw you in that diner. I had
wonderful times with you and couldn't have wished for a better or more
attentive lover, or friend. You gave me the one thing I wanted, but
didn't need. You gave me the room to succeed. I did and lost
everything in the process. If it hadn't been for Sarah, I would have
come to live in that fishing cabin after I found out how empty my
dream was. I had it all and I had nothing.

Enough of this crying over spilled milk. I wish you to take my body
back to my home. To the place where we met and where I was the
happiest. I wish to rest beside my parents and far from Atlanta. I
don't want my daughter tied to a grave. I want my grave so far away,
that she must think of the living, not the dead. I want to rest beside
my mother and father, for they aside from you were the only ones I
ever loved.

Do what you can for Winnie and Sarah, but most of all take care of
yourself. I have asked that I be buried in the jewelry you gave me. I
do not wish any other on me. Please see to it. I especially do not
wish to wear Winthrop's wedding ring for eternity. It was hard enough
to wear it in life. I loved him in my way, but not as I should have.
Em."

I thought about her statements for a long time then said to Winthrop,
" Winthrop she asked in the letter that I make sure her wedding rings
were saved for Sarah, that they not be buried with her. She wanted
Sarah to have them."

"I know, she asked that of me. I conceded to her wishes, though they
were not my own. She left me detailed instructions as to what she
should wear and in what jewelry she was to be buried. It was a bit
strange, it was all jewelry she had purchased before we were married.
She wanted everything I gave her to go to Sarah. Her letter to me
stated she wanted Sarah to enjoy them as much as she had." he broke
into tears.

"Take it easy Winthrop, we will get through this," I declared.

"You know, you aren't near as bad as I imagined all these years," he
said.

"Yes I am Winthrop. This is just not the day for being a prick." He
nodded and I knew that he was trying hard to be real today. Hell I
know I was.

A hearse from the local funeral home met the plane. Along side it was
the family car. We rode to the downtown High Point cemetery in almost
total silence. The grave side service took only a few minutes.
Winthrop was a wreck and wanted to leave immediately. I insisted that
he return with his jet right away. I wanted to stay a while. I agreed
to meet him in Atlanta. I still had a ticket on the commercial flight.
The driver of the Limo agreed to take him to the airport then return
for me.

I sat by the open grave and ran each of my encounters with Emma over
in my mind, yet again. I knew I had loved her and she loved me. I
hadn't realized how deeply I had loved her. I had no indication, that
she had regretted her decision to marry Winthrop. I guess by the time
she knew, Sarah had been born. My life was certainly no life for a
child.

When I had run our lives through to the end, I looked up to see the
backhoe sitting with it's driver about fifty yards away. He was
waiting for me to leave, so that he could close the grave. I walked to
him.

"I want to stay till the grave is closed so please continue." I don't
think he much liked the audience, but he drove the monster to the
grave and began filling it. I stayed by her side till the hole was
filled. I said good-bye one last time, then walked to the waiting
limo.

"Would you drive me to 'Alex's house' on the way to the airport
please." He looked like he might refuse, but I guess people are pretty
kind to grieving relatives and friends. He parked across the street in
the lot of a vacant building. I looked into the restaurant for the
last time. I mentally removed the furniture market from my list of
events. Being here again, would be just too painful.

At the airport I explained the tickets not being used from Atlanta.
The woman was kind enough to take it back and give me another ticket .
I boarded the next flight which left an hour later. I steered clear of
the lounge. I went to the coffee shop and waited for the flight to
leave. The flight was quick and comfortable.

When I entered the terminal, I noticed a Limo driver holding a sign
with my name. Winthrop had sent his driver for me. The Limo was
actually nothing more than a Ford Crown Victoria. One of those
business car service jobs. The car took me to Winthrop's little town
house. It was probably twelve rooms on the outskirts of Atlanta.

Winthrop met me at the door. "Ed, please come in."

I entered the house, it was indeed beautiful. The entry hall had fancy
wallpaper and a black and white marble floor. I followed Winthrop down
the hall to his study. He seated himself on a sofa. I sat in an
overstuffed chair covered in a cordovan colored leather.

"Nice house you have here." He nodded and I paused. This was terribly
uncomfortable for both of us. "Look Winthrop, this is hard on both of
us. If you don't mind I would like to see Sarah, then I will be
going."

"Ordinarily I would tell you to go to hell, but Emma expressly told me
in her letter that she wanted Sarah to meet you. She said you would
take care of Sarah, if I couldn't. Of course, that will never be
necessary. I can take care of my daughter."

"Of course you can Winthrop." This was no time to pick a fight with
him. As a matter of fact, I would never have to see him again. The
trick now was to just get through this. "I'm sure she didn't mean it
the way you took it. Every mother thinks of thousands of
possibilities, we could never imagine. I'm sure, she was just
imagining the absolute worst possibilities that could ever happen."

"I'm sure you are right," I could tell he wasn't sure at all. "I'll go
get her. I won't be a minute."

I sat alone in the room full of books. Three of the walls had shelves
to the ceiling each filled with books. It was only natural to wonder
how many were decorations, and how many had actually been read.

The little girl of five entered the room. I spoke to her before
Winthrop had the chance. I knelt on the floor so that I would be her
height. "Hi, you must be Sarah." I appraised her while I waited for
her answer. She had Emma red hair but it was curlier. Her face was a
little more rounded than Emma's. The dead give away was her almost
black eyes. Since Emma's were green and Winthrop's were blue the
almost black eyes were both dazzling and out of place. I had seen
parts of this face in the mirror, for most of my forty nine years. Of
course there would never be a way to know for sure, but I wasn’t sure
Sarah was my daughter .

"Are you Mr. Edwards?" she asked in a tiny little voice.

"Yes I am honey." I looked at her because I didn't dare look up at
Winthrop.

"Mommy told me you were a nice man. She told me that if I ever needed
anything done, I should call you. She even wrote your number in my
diary."

"Well honey your Mommy was right. You can call me anytime, even if it
is just to talk."

"Mr. Edwards, do you know what happened to my Mommy?"

"A little honey," I said it fighting back the tears.

"Daddy said she has gone to be with the angels," Sarah said.