The Gamble

That red film came back, this time with blinding white flashes, the anger so strong, pent up so long, I had to speak through my teeth in order not to scream.

“If you’ll remember, Niles, I did. I spoke with you about Charlie’s house and how I didn’t want to leave it and you didn’t listen. I spoke with you about how I was feeling about us, how I felt lonely even when I was with you and you didn’t listen. I spoke to you about how my father wasn’t a part of my life and here he stands.” Like my mother, I swept my arm out to indicate my father but I didn’t take my eyes from Niles as I continued. “I spoke with you about the fact we haven’t been intimate, not in months and months and how that concerned me but you didn’t seem to care.”

At these words, I felt Max’s hand convulse in mine but I ignored it and kept right on talking.

“I spoke to you about how all the times I spoke to you about all these things – and there have been lots of times I’ve spoken to you about all these things, Niles – I spoke with you about how that bothered me deeply. And I spoke with you about how it upset me nothing ever seemed to get through, no matter what it meant to me, how important it was. And, finally, I explained exactly what a timeout meant, hoping maybe you wouldn’t want me to go that maybe, in the end, you’d do something to save us, to show me you cared. But off I went and you didn’t even phone to see if I got here safely which, in the end, I did but, being as sick as I was, I actually didn’t.”

“And I explained, when you spoke to me about all these things, such as you holding onto Charlie’s house, that you needed to let them go and move on with your life and you agreed,” Niles responded.

“I agreed?” I asked, the confusion back, mingling with the anger.

“You’re wearing my ring,” Niles declared.

I stared at him a moment, thrown, not comprehending how my accepting his ring meant I agreed with him about anything. Then in order to get this done and get the heck out of there, I nodded and stuck my hand in my pocket.

“I’m glad you mentioned that,” I said, pulling out the ring, leaning forward and putting it on the table. “You can have it back.”

“I can have it back?” Niles asked, incredulous, his eyes moving back and forth between me and the ring so fast I feared he’d give himself a seizure.

“Niles, for the last time, please hear me. We don’t work. It’s over.”

Niles stared at me a second, his eyes getting cold in a way I’d never seen before, in a way that made my blood chill, in a way that Shauna wished she could go cold then he looked to Max and stated bizarrely, “I’ll double his offer.”

At this strange turn of the conversation, I was back to blinking but this time also shaking my head a little.

Max, however, didn’t seem confused by Niles’s words. Niles’s words made Max go from annoyed to angry. I knew it because I felt it.

“Seriously?” Max asked disbelievingly.

“What offer?” I queried but Niles and Max ignored me.

“Double, take it,” Niles’s eyes swept Max from head to toe then went back to his face. “Undoubtedly you can use it.”

“What offer?” I repeated.

“Go to hell,” Max bit out.

“Triple,” Niles threw out instantly.

“I always liked you, not much, but I liked you,” Mom hissed at Niles, also clearly not surprised at this turn in the exchange. “Now, your true colors shining through, I don’t like you. Not at all.”

Niles didn’t bother to look at Mom, he continued to stare at Max.

“You’d be a fool to walk away from that,” Dad advised.

“What offer?” I asked, looking up at Max.

“Your father offered this…” Niles started explaining and my eyes went to him, “man two hundred and fifty thousand dollars to disappear out of your life. I’m making it three quarters of a million.”

I gasped at this news and took a step back but Max’s hand held mine fast, he took a step forward and he was stronger than me so I went with him.

He put the knuckles of his fist to the table, leaned toward Niles and spoke quietly, cuttingly, in his rough, gravelly voice.

“Fucked her last night, man, and this morning. Five times. Five. It was like she hadn’t been touched in a decade. So f**kin’ sweet. Damn,” he taunted, his eyes locked on Niles. “You’ve had her, you gotta know, not enough money in the world’s worth that.”

Niles’s torso jerked back and his face went pale again but it was my father who spoke.

“Honest to God, Nina, what on earth is the matter with you? You’d choose this over Niles?”

I stood there, shocked at what Max had said to Niles, shocked at what I was seeing from Niles, shocked that any of this was even happening and I looked at my father, silent. Then I looked at Niles. Then I looked over my shoulder at Mom and Steve. Finally, I looked at Max.

What I had taken in consisted of both Dad and Niles wearing corduroys and nice sweaters. Both fair. Both slim. Both good-looking in a polished way. Both looking like money, breeding, class but not a lot of warmth. In fact, they both looked weirdly detached even though they were participating in this debacle.

I also saw Steve’s attractive silver hair and I knew it had been dark before it’d changed its color. He was dressed much like Max without the thermal. No airs. No graces. All man. He had his arm around Mom’s waist and her back was held close to his front. He was bigger and taller than Mom and looked like he could take on a bear and would if that bear threatened his Nellie.

And I’d seen Mom wearing lovely tweed trousers, a fitted, black turtleneck, a tailored, trendy, black leather jacket over the sweater and a neat, stylish black purse on her shoulder. Earrings, a pretty, unusual necklace glinting against her sweater, her hair pulled back softly in a ponytail, her makeup flawless. She stood in Steve’s arm, dressed fancy, dressed somewhat like me, dressed like she liked to dress, standing there like she’d been built to stand held close to Steve.

And I felt Max’s big, warm hand wrapped around mine, engulfing it, steady, strong, safe. He’d stood by my side through this fiasco and never let me go.

I stared at Niles and Dad across the table and I got it then, it penetrated.

Niles actually didn’t care about me. Once he had me, he thought he had me and that was it. The world revolved around him, his wants, his preferences, his habits and all around him fit into that world. He didn’t have to work at it, as partners always had to work at it. He didn’t care enough to work at it. It was up to me to care, to fit, to revolve around him, his wants, his preferences, his habits. He didn’t listen to me because what I said didn’t matter, it didn’t fit into his world and thus it didn’t mean a single thing to him.