كاتب الموضوع :
GKarima
المنتدى :
الارشيف
Furiously, reluctantly, Sam stood, her gown's white jersey fabric falling in long elegant folds. "If you can't think of me, Johann, can you please think of Gabby?"
He didn't answer her. He didn't look as if he'd heard her. Instead he was drinking hard, throwing back his cocktail even as the dealer was dealing a new hand.
Escorted by hotel security. Sam walked silently through the casino overwhelmed by the clink and bells and whistles of the one-arm bandits edging the casino floor. She hated casinos, hated the noise, the garish colors and lights, the artificial glam*our that seduced so many.
Fortunately the security didn't touch her, push her or rush her. There was no hurry. She, like the hotel staff, knew what hap*pened now was beyond her control. No one would stop a gambler, not even a compulsive gambler. Monte Carlo had been built on the backs of those with deep pockets and a dearth of self-re*straint-Back at the small town villa in the historic district, Sam col*lected a sleeping Gabby from the neighbor's house, carried her home, put her in her bed and after a lingering glance into the lit*tle girl's simple bedroom, shut the door-Sam curled in a chair downstairs in the living room, a blan*ket pulled over her shoulders. The house was chilly but Sam couldn't turn up the heat. There wasn't money to pay for such extravagances- There wasn't money for anything.
Tears started to her eyes but she pressed a hand to her face, held the tears back. Don't cry. You can't cry. Tears are for chil*dren.
But some tears fell anyway, escaping from behind her hand, from beneath the tightly closed eyelids.
It was all too bitter, too brutal, and too lonely. She'd tried so hard to give Gabriela a better life. That's why she'd married Johann, that's why she put up with his abuse. Sam had done everything in her power to help things here, improve things for the child. But none of it mattered. Johann was determined to gamble and drink, no matter the cost.
Much later she finally fell asleep, still huddled in the armchair and didn't wake until she heard Gabriela bounding down the stairs.
"Where's Papa?" Gabby asked, nearly five years old and end*lessly enthusiastic.
Gabby had already dressed in her school uniform and even in her dark gray uniform with the white piping. Gabby was beau*tiful. A day rarely passed without someone stopping Sam to comment on Gabriela's stunning looks, and Gabby was stunning. Gabby's mother had been a model from Madrid. She'd done some small films in Spain and hoped to go to Hollywood to try her luck there, but died tragically a year after Gabby was born. The details about Gabby's mother's death were all a bit sketchy, but Gabby had inherited her mother's Spanish beauty with her classic features, her dark hair, and those green-gold eyes bor*dered by shamefully long, jet-black lashes.
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06-12-07, 01:42 AM
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