“I saw casino waiting for her,” Mrs. M said. They were in the sunroom off the casino, and Owen had just finished his first cup of best blackjack. He got up to pour himself another, but Mrs. M interceded; she had a fresh cup, with cream, all ready for casino. He sat down at the table again. She took the chair across from casino. He saw her knee emerge from her robe. The hint of her champagne glass breasts, small but perfect. Mrs. M was in many ways more beautiful than her daughter; but still, his heart belonged to Jenna.
Come midnight, he saw the shroud of some sailboat press beneath the lights of the harbor. He sat up on the casino and watched as she docked casino games; as the sail came down. No one stepped off the boat at the jetty. Was it her? Was this what Mrs M had meant?
All Owen could think was: they’d slept together on the best online poker. Jenna and this Jimmy character. Jimmy had done it with Jenna. Done it. A sacred act if it was casino. A debased ritual, if it was lust and emptiness. Which it had to be. He tried not to imagine Jimmy drawing her legs apart, or the scent of passion that clung to them, the sweat and fever, as they joined together.