“Let’s play a little,” Unu said, and Casey followed along.
The waits were long at the two-dollar tables and nearly empty at the fifty-dollar-minimum tables. Finally, they found a spot at the ten-dollar table. Casey played exactly two hands and lost forty dollars. Unu took her seat.
His change was immediate. He became extremely quiet, smiling at the female dealer only when he wanted a card, and when he did, he’d tap his card once lightly with his index finger. Mostly he appeared to be studying the dealer’s quick hand movements. Casey didn’t know if he was counting cards—couldn’t fathom remembering the sequence and numbers of cards dealt within six decks of cards. She was taken by the grace of the dealer’s hands—how she drew the cards from the shoe, the way she swept them up in a single motion when the game was over. The dealer wore two rings on each finger and wore clear polish on her well-tapered fingernails. Unu was winning here and there, but mesmerized by the dealer’s dexterity, Casey didn’t realize until Unu got up from his seat that he’d been steadily winning over half a dozen hands. He had begun with five hundred dollars and in thirty-two minutes he was ahead by twenty-six hundred dollars.
“What’s the matter?” she asked when he stood up, getting ready to go. His pile of chips had multiplied.
“We’re going to change tables. I’m feeling my luck return.”
Casey didn’t believe in luck.
“I think you’re my charm,” he said, kissing her cheek.
She walked alongside him, feeling nothing like a moll. She was so sleepy that it was hard for her to keep her eyes open, and the smoke in the room had thickened like a gray soup. She had no desire to smoke at all.
At the fifty-dollar table, Unu won again. There were only two men seated there beside him. They had a male dealer with slicked-back hair and an earring. The three players, all experienced, beat the house repeatedly. In fifty-two minutes, Unu was ahead by nine thousand dollars. Watching him win was vexing for Casey, because the colder he grew, the better he played. He displayed signs of neither confidence nor happiness. He was someone else entirely. It had been that way the first time she’d seen Jay Currie play tennis, where he went from being the affable literary boy to a cutthroat athlete. Casey couldn’t help being pleased to see him win, but she felt afraid to touch him or to say anything because he was so eerily calm, and she didn’t want to disturb his concentration. She was very tired of standing.
When the hand was over and he had won another seven hundred dollars, she tapped his shoulder. “Baby, can we go now? I’m very sleepy.”
Unu turned around and faced her. “Open your purse, please,” he said, and Casey did as he asked. He put aside ten fifty-dollar chips and poured the rest into her purse. “Can you take these up for me?” he asked. “Let me play just a little longer.” For the first time since they’d walked onto the floor of the casino, his eyes betrayed a flicker of worry.
Casey looked at him earnestly, not knowing what would be good for him. “I’ll go upstairs and take a bath. You play and I’ll wait up. Okay?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’ll be up very soon.”
When Casey woke up the next morning, it was eight-thirty. Unu was lying beside her, dressed in the clothes he’d worn the night before. On the bedside table, there was a large pile of fifty-dollar and hundred-dollar chips. She moved closer to look at him, but the smell of cigarettes in his hair and clothing repelled her. His eyelids quivered ever so slightly, and she wondered what he was dreaming of. Casey got out of bed and pulled the bedspread over his body.
Church services would begin in half an hour. There was no way they’d make it back to the city. Lately, Casey hated missing church. She blamed herself, for it hadn’t occurred to her to ask for a wake-up call, which was something she normally did when she traveled for work. But the casino didn’t feel like a hotel. This place was geared to make sure you stayed out of your room, and in the morning light, the room appeared even less attractive than when she’d first walked in. It was free, she reminded herself, and obviously Unu had had a good night, and she’d slept a lot. Casey showered, got dressed, and made coffee in the room.
When she checked her overnight bag, she saw that she’d forgotten to bring her Bible and notebook. She felt like kicking something. It had been such a long time since she’d gone away that she didn’t realize how routinized it had become for her to read her chapter, to write down her daily verse. She might forget about God for the whole day, and often did, but it had become part of her morning rituals, like her shower, coffee, and teeth brushing. And because she was missing church, too, she felt out of sorts.