I’d heard the name before
Vavada website. A guy at work talked about it sometimes, the way people talk about a hobby they’re not sure they should admit to. I found the site, did the thing, the sign-up, the deposit. I put in a small amount, the cost of the dog food I’d bought last week, the one that was supposed to be good for her joints, the one that cost more than I wanted to spend but I spent it anyway because she was worth it. I told myself it was a distraction, something to do while Mabel slept, something to fill the space between the couch and the window. I started with slots because that seemed like the easiest way in. I found a game with a theme I didn’t pay attention to, just colors and sounds, and I let it run while I sat there, my hand on Mabel’s head, watching the reels spin. I lost a few dollars, won a few back, lost again. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t playing to win. I was playing to be somewhere else.
But after a while, the slots started to feel empty. My brain was still circling, still coming back to the yard, the house, the years I’d been saving, the years that were passing. I needed something that would hold me, something that would demand my attention the way Mabel demanded my attention when she was learning to trust, the way she looked at me when I came home, the way she wagged her tail when I said her name. I switched to blackjack. I’d never played blackjack before. I knew the basic rules from movies, from the time I’d watched a friend play on his phone during a long lunch break. Hit on sixteen. Stand on seventeen. Don’t think too hard.