Mile 76

Jake

Jake had been on the road for less than an hour when he decided he already needed more coffee, preferably something large and sweet with an extra shot of espresso. His sleep the night before had been restless; his morning full of emotional family goodbyes, the usual promises to see each other more. Typical funeral stuff, nothing a gallon of caffeine couldn’t fix.

Jake knew this stretch of the Garden State Parkway better than almost anywhere in the world. Manahawken. Barneget. Toms River. Countless summers on New Jersey beaches. College poker trips to AC. And of course the trips back home to see his parents. Now there would only be trips to see his dad. 

Jake didn’t want to think about that right now, at least not before he had a Venti cup of steaming hot Starbucks coffee in his hand. He signaled a lane change and prepared to exit at the next service area, Forked River. 

He pulled his dark red BMW into a parking spot and shut off the engine. It was Natalya who had convinced him to get this car, a “status symbol” she had called it. Jake had wanted a Tesla, which he supposed was a different kind of status symbol.. But Natalya had frowned when he had mentioned it.

“You aren’t a Tesla kind of rich guy,” she had said. “You don’t care about the environment or the rising price of gas or colonizing Mars.”

Jake had wanted to argue, actually he was a bit worried about climate change, and besides there were so many other reasons to buy an electric car, particularly a Tesla. But it was always best to just agree with Natalya.

She had not attended his mother’s funeral. Memorial services were “triggering, she had claimed, they reminded her of her “childhood trauma.” This was a typical Natalya response. The supermarket was too crowded on Sundays, could Jake please buy some groceries. The walk from the train station at night made her nervous, could he just pick her up instead. Large family gatherings were uncomfortable, although she seemed to have no trouble going out to crowded bars on weekends with her trio of friends. 

Jake hadn’t said what he was thinking at the time, that funerals were “triggering” for everyone. The smell of flowers, the weight of sadness in the room. No one wanted to go, and yet you did, you showed up because life required it.

Again, some things were better unsaid. 

The truth was that Jake had been fine with Natalya staying home. He loved her very much, fragility and all, however, the trip to the shore had been easier without her. Natalya was an NYC girl through and through and small town Jersey scorn was in her blood. She was always polite to his family, of course, but he knew she would rather be anywhere but there. 

When they had first started dating two years ago, Jake had brought her out to Long Beach Island, excited to show her the beaches he had grown up on. Summer vacations had been spent eating ice cream on the sand, riding bikes to the arcade in Beach Haven, riding long waves to the shore on bright blue boogie boards. He and his friends had jumped from the abandoned lifeguard chairs in the evening, daring each other to see who could get the highest, the farthest. He had wanted to share all of this with Natalya and the two of them had spent a lovely weekend there, including making love on a darkened stretch of beach, underneath the stars. Afterwards, lying together on a scratchy blanket, her head on his shoulder, Jake had told her he loved her and she had said it back. He had been so happy to be there with his beautiful girlfriend, at his childhood summer paradise.

On the drive home he had asked her what she thought of the Jersey Shore.

“It was really nice,” she had replied. “I had a great time and I really loved seeing all the things you did as a kid.” She then paused, brushing her long brown hair off of her face. “Next summer though, lets go to the Hamptons.”

Amelia

Amelia didn’t really need to stop for anything; the drive from Brooklyn to Atlantic City was under three hours and she had water and snacks in the car. But the GSP made her restless, and she felt like stretching her legs, maybe grabbing a coffee. After using the restroom, she joined the long line at Starbucks. There was always a line. Road trippers needed their caffeine boost.

To be honest, Amelia had always loved places like this. Rest areas on the side of highways. Airport bars. Train station newsstands. She loved the idea of people passing through on their way to somewhere else, grabbing a quick beer before their flight. She imagined no one who actually lived in Forked River, NJ stopped at the service area Starbucks for coffee. 

But what she did she know? All of her friends were outer borough New Yorkers, not quite successful enough to afford Manhattan, but able to swing Bushwick with a roommate or two. This thought made Amelia smile. All of them but one, her best friend, who was about to get married.

Jackie’s marriage, and this weekend’s bachelorette party, was the reason Amelia was on the Garden State Parkway. Jackie was the first one in their group to get engaged, the first one to move on from their regular Saturday night bar hops. And although Amelia didn’t quite understand why her friend would give up the no strings attached single life, she was happy to plan a weekend of craziness to celebrate it. 

Finally at the front of the line, Amelia ordered a Grande cold brew with sweet cream and headed towards a table by the window. She knew she could take her coffee to her car like everyone else, but she had plenty of time to kill. Her friends weren’t arriving until later that afternoon and the idea of wandering the Atlantic City boardwalk alone was not particularly appealing. Besides, she enjoyed watching the people come in and out: parents dragging cranky kids inside to use the bathroom, commuters stopping for snacks, the occasional cute guy or girl.

As if he had heard her thoughts, a tall, dark haired man holding a very large cup of coffee, sat down at the table next to her. Amelia watched as he popped open the lid and took a slow sip, staring out the window. Amelia loved to make up stories in her head about strangers, and this man seemed tired, preoccupied. She imagined him on a business trip, a corporate lawyer on route to meet some high profile client. Or maybe a salesman on route to try to close a big deal. Amelia was so lost in her own imagination that she did not hear him ask his question the first time.

“I’m sorry to bother you but do you happen to have a cigarette?”

Amelia shook her head. Almost no one her age smoked, and the ones who did preferred vaping. Her friends were mostly into edibles, but she didn’t think the man wanted one of the weed gummies in her bag.

“I figured you didn’t. You don’t look like a smoker.” He sighed. “To be honest, I am not a smoker either. But it seemed appropriate for today.”

Amelia didn’t ask what he meant.

“Anyway, thanks.”

The man went back to staring vacantly out the window. Amelia felt kind of bad for him. He seemed lost, sad even. She reached into her purse and pulled out a pack of Extra spearmint gum.

“I have this.” She pulled a piece out and offered it to him.

 He smiled as he took the piece of gum from her hand, unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth.

“Thanks!”

“No worries.” Amelia pulled out her phone and absentmindedly clicked on her usual things. A few unimportant emails. A text from her mom. Jackie had posted an Instagram pic of her shoving a bottle of champagne in her backpack with the caption “Bride-to-be road trip! AC here I come!” Amelia commented “Hell yeah!” and added a few cute emojis. She then slid her phone back into her bag and looked over at the man again.

“I’m the maid of honor at my best friends wedding.”

The man blinked, clearly confused. Then he lifted his coffee cup, as if to offer her a toast.

“Congratulations”, he said. “To your friend that is.”

Amelia shook her head. “I have no idea what I am doing”, she replied. “I am supposed to be planning this wild weekend in Atlantic City for her bachelorette. You know, her last hurrah as a single woman? But so far all I have is shots and slot machines.”

The man smiled politely. “That’s a good start”, he said. 

Amelia frowned. “Yeah but then what? Dinner? Dancing? Strippers?” 

“Does she like those things?”

Amelia thought for a second. Jackie loved a good, sweet cocktail and a juicy burger. She liked 80’s pop music, even though she hadn’t been alive in the 1980’s. She enjoyed dancing. Amelia thought her friend also wouldn’t mind having a shirtless man gyrate in front of her. 

“Yeah I guess she does.” 

The man nodded. “All I ever did in AC was play poker. A LOT of poker.”

Amelia raised her eyebrows.

“How much is a lot?” she asked.

The man grinned. “It paid for more than half of college.” He paused for dramatic effect. “I went to NYU.”

Jake

Jake enjoyed how the woman’s eyes widened when he mentioned where he had gone to college. It was true; he had spent almost all of college playing poker, mostly online, but also at a few regular private games. Jake and his buddies had gotten pretty good, good enough to cover the cost of both his junior and senior years’ tuition. Those online games were like work, slowly grinding, making smart calculated decisions. He had even kept a notebook, meticulously recording his wins and losses. The trips to AC, on the other hand, had mostly been for fun; free drinks and taking advantage of young people on weekend getaways.

People just like this woman.

He stuck out his hand. “My name is Jake by the way.”

“Amelia”, she replied. “And I don’t play poker.”

Jake smiled, remembering. It had been a long time since he had sat down at a poker table, even just for fun. After graduating from college he had begun the journey of slowly working his way up the corporate ladder. When people asked him what he did for a living he would give the typical response “I work in finance”, which basically meant he tried to use money to make more money. In the beginning it had not felt that much different from playing cards. But over the past couple of years it had all started to seem silly, pointless. There were teachers making a difference in young children’s lives, doctors treating cancer patients, artists, writers and musicians all creating masterpieces. Jake was just moving money around.

“You should”, he replied.

The woman, Amelia, took a sip of her iced coffee and frowned. 

“No way”, she said. “I get nervous playing scratch off lotto. Is that why you are here? Are you on your way to AC to play in some kind of poker tournament?”

Jake was silent for a second, not sure how much he wanted to share with a total stranger. Finally, he shook his head.

“I’m going the other way”, he answered. “Back to the city.”

Amelia nodded. “Work trip or family?”

Jake’s eyes widened.

‘I’m sorry”, Amelia said. “Its this thing I do. Try to figure out everyone’s business. Sometimes when I am on the subway I look around and create a story in my head about where everyone is going, what their lives are about.” She flashed him an apologetic smile. “My friends are always telling me to stop talking to strangers. They think I’m going to get kidnapped someday. They are probably right.”

She turned back towards her own table. “Enjoy your coffee. And the gum!”

Jake stared at the back of her head for a minute before saying, “I was at a funeral.”

Amelia

Amelia was proud of herself. She had thought that the man had seemed sad, and now she knew why. She listened quietly as he told her about his mother’s funeral. He finished with a sigh. “She was old. She had a long life. It was her time.”

Amelia nodded. “Yeah I am not sure that makes it any easier though. I’m sorry.”

Jake smiled sadly. “Thank you”, he replied.

“Did you have to go all by yourself?” Amelia went everywhere with her friends; she could not imagine doing something hard like a parent’s funeral without them by her side, holding her hand, pouring her drinks. 

“I have two sisters.”

Amelia shook her head. “No I mean your wife, or girlfriend….boyfriend….someone…”

She trailed off awkwardly, suddenly realizing that she had just met this man and none of this was any of her business. She was about to apologize again when he replied.

“I’m straight. My fiancee couldn’t come. She..” he paused, frowning. “Its complicated. Stuff like funerals make her uncomfortable.”

Amelia’s eyes narrowed. “Funerals are uncomfortable for everyone,” she said. “You go anyway.”

Jake did not defend his fiancée, changing the subject instead.

“So a bachelorette party?”

Amelia grinned. “Jackie. She is the first one of our friend group to get married! None of us understand it.”

She said it as a joke but Jake nodded, his expression serious.

“Yeah its a big thing, giving up the single life. Tying yourself to one person forever.”

Amelia remembered when Jackie had announced her engagement, on a Saturday night at a bar in the East Village. Everyone had squealed and Amelia had immediately ordered a round of shots to celebrate, but her other three friends had shaken their heads. “Why would you want to give this up?” Sara had asked, spreading her hands to indicate the bar, the music, the drinks, the men and women who were only really there for one reason . “What are you going to do on weekends?”

Jackie had shot her friends a flirtatious wink. “Make babies,” she replied with a grin.

They had all groaned, ordered more shots, danced until the bartender shouted last call. It was only in the Uber on her way back to her Brooklyn apartment, her head already swimming with a hint of the hangover that she would feel later, that Amelia thought maybe giving all this up would not be the worst thing in the world.

She said none of this to Jake. Instead she asked, “So when are you getting married?”

Amelia expected his eyes to light up, for him to be excited to talk about his fiancee, their wedding plans. That was the whole point, after all, to fall in love, to get engaged, to have a beautiful wedding somewhere on the shore. What she did not expect was the scowl that passed across his face.

‘Whenever she decides I am rich enough,” he said.

Jake

Jake’s hand flew to his mouth, shocked by his own words. He was about to apologize, to blame his snarkiness on sleep deprivation and grief, when he stopped himself. He was never going to see this woman again, why did he care what she thought? Besides, he wasn’t just bitter. Natayla had always been clear about what she wanted, the five year plan, she called it. High paying job, nice car, large apartment in Manhattan (owned not rented). The problem was the plan wasn’t for her life, it was for his. 

“Like I said, it’s complicated”, Jake said with a shrug. “Natalya is…” He trailed off, gazing out the window again, lost in thought.

He had brought Natalya to dinner at his parent’s home in Barneget after they had been dating for about six months. He had been so proud to walk in with his beautiful girlfriend on his arm. Natalya had been charming and effervescent, laughing at all of his dad’s corny jokes, complimenting his mom’s cooking and her taste in home decor. When she excused herself to use the restroom later, Jake had grinned at his family.

“She’s pretty awesome, huh?”

His dad had nodded indifferently, too absorbed in the baseball game on the tv to really care, but his mom had placed a hand on his arm, a worried frown on her lips.

“She’s very beautiful Jacob”, she said slowly. “And she seems sweet. But…” 

She paused, not sure she should continue.

“Women like that can be very difficult to make happy”, she finally concluded. 

Jake had waved his hand dismissively, told her not to worry, that they loved each other, that everything was great. When he asked Natalya to marry him a few months later, his mother had offered to throw them an engagement party but his fiancee had politely declined. 

“I think a bar would be better, no? Our friends don’t want to go all the way to New Jersey just to drink some champagne.”

Only now that his mother was gone, was Jake starting to think that she had been right about Natalya. 

He turned back to face Amelia with a sigh.

“I think it might be time to end it,” he said.

To her credit, Amelia didn’t even bat an eye. She simply nodded, as if everything he was saying made perfect sense. 

Amelia

Amelia had never been engaged, had never really had a relationship that lasted more than a few months. But she knew a few things about showing up when things got hard. About a year ago, her father had been diagnosed with early stage colon cancer and Amelia had been by his side through all the subsequent treatments, visiting him at home while her mother was at work, bringing him chicken broth and the Ferraro Rocher chocolates that he loved so much. 

Her father was cancer free now but Amelia still made a point of calling him once a week just to say hello.

“You go anyway,” Amelia replied softly. She sipped her coffee again before meeting Jake’s eyes. “Not that it matters what I think. But I have always felt like when the shit hits the fan, that’s when you learn who people really are. And maybe this woman, Natalya?”

Jake nodded.

“Maybe Natalya wasn’t exactly who you thought she was. And it took your mother dying for you to finally realize that.”

Jake shook his head. 

“No,”  he replied. “I always knew who she was. It took my mother dying for me to finally care.”

Amelia could understand that. When her father had gotten sick she had gone through the stereotypical “life is short, live for the moment” phase, trying new things every day and attempting to let go of all unimportant worries. Once his cancer had gone into remission, however, she had gone back to most of her old habits. Permanent change was hard.

“I’m sorry,” Jake said suddenly.

Amelia met his gaze, confused. “For what?”

“For being such a downer,” he replied. “You are on your way to a carefree, wild weekend in AC with your friends and here I am, a total stranger, talking about death and divorce. I might as well be handing you a pamphlet and trying to sell you Jesus.”

Amelia burst out laughing. “I am not sure if the people with the pamphlets would call it that. I don’t think they consider themselves salespeople.” Although when she thought about it, Amelia supposed that was exactly what they were. 

“In any case, you aren’t bringing me down. I like meeting new people. And I am sorry about your mother. And your fiancé. Besides, if I am being perfectly honest, I am not sure I give a crap about this weekend.”

Jake raised his eyebrows. 

“Don’t get me wrong,” Amelia continued. “I adore my friends and I am so happy for Jackie. I am excited to celebrate with her. But how many times do I need to wake up in my bed with a total stranger and a pounding headache, you know? Like maybe she has the right idea. Maybe it is time to find someone real, to settle down. Maybe it is time for all of us to grow up a little.”

Amelia wasn’t sure why she was telling him all of this. Maybe it had something to do with the anonymity of bearing her soul to a total stranger. She was never going to see Jake again. Why not let him in on the thoughts that had been troubling her recently? He was older than her, and clearly had more life experience. Maybe he would have something useful to say.

Jake paused, deep in thought. Finally he shrugged.

“Well we all have to grow up eventually right?”

He then reached into his backpack and produced a deck of cards. 

“How about we start with you learning how to play poker?” he said with a grin. 

Amelia blinked, surprised. “You brought a deck of cards to your mother’s funeral?”

Jake grinned. “I have a deck of cards in my bag at all times,” he replied. “Old habits I guess.” Amelia watched as he opened the box, pulled the cards out, and started lazily shuffling them. He did it without looking, like a professional.

“Come on”, he said, gesturing to the chair across from him. “I’ll go easy on you.”

Jake

Texas Hold Em was a relatively basic card game. Each player started with two cards in their hand. The dealer then proceeded to deal three more cards face up on the table in consecutive rounds: they were called the flop, the turn and the river. All the players at the table shared these three cards, combining them with the two they were holding to make the best five card hand. There were betting rounds after each new card showed up, and of course the opportunity to keep playing or to fold. 

The version of Texas Hold Em that most people knew was no-limit. This was the game that was most often shown in TV and movies, likely ending in a thrilling moment where one player bet all the chips in his or her hand by dramatically stating “I’m all in.” 

Jake actually preferred limit, a version of the game where the amount each player could bet was set at specific numbers. He liked the lower variance, the fact that it was much harder to suddenly lose all of your chips in one fell swoop.

On his very last trip to AC (before Natalya had complained that gambling was for “degenerates” and “unworthy of her future husband”) Jake had spent 14 hours straight at a poker table, finally emerging onto the sunny boardwalk around 10am the next morning, glassy eyed and disoriented. The cliche of casinos was also the truth, there were no windows or clocks anywhere. Jake was starving and desperately in need of caffeine. He met his buddies at the Borgata buffet, (unlike him, they were well rested and freshly showered) and devoured two plates piled high with pancakes, eggs, bacon. As he was slowly sipping his second cup of coffee, his best friend Nathan had turned to him.

“Got it out of your system?”

Jake knew exactly what Nathan meant. Natalya was the type of woman who expected candlelit dinners on Saturday evenings, mimosas and French toast on Sunday afternoons. And she was not anticipating any of those meals be at a casino on the shores of the Atlantic Ocean.

Now here he was, at a rest area about 45 minutes north of Atlantic City, about to teach a total stranger how to play poker.

It turned out that Amelia hadn’t been entirely truthful when she said she didn’t play. She already knew the basics; what all the hands were, how betting worked. When Jake pointed this out to her she smiled sheepishly.

“There may have been an ex boyfriend…”

She had never played Texas Hold Em, however, and was intrigued by the idea of visible cards that both players could use. 

“So if your opponent is still in the hand after the turn you can kind of figure out what hand they have. Or what hand they are going for.”

Jake was impressed.

“Unless they are completely bluffing,” he replied.

They didn’t have chips of course, so they bet with ripped up pieces of napkin. After fifteen minutes, Jake had collected almost all of them.

Amelia was frowning at the cards in her hand.

“I change my mind,” she said. “I think I might hate this game.”

Jake laughed. He could remember many a night having the exact same thought. He watched Amelia’s face as she stared at her cards, noticing all the micro expressions, the squint of her eyes, the way the skin around her lips folded. It had been awhile since he had done this, but apparently reading people was a skill you never really forget.

He was not surprised when she finally shook her head and placed her cards face down on the plastic table. 

“Do you want to see if you would have make that flush?” he asked, motioning to the deck in his hands. “I can deal the last card if you want. Just for…information.”

He grinned as her eyes widened.

“I paid for college remember?”

Jake collected the cards from the table and shuffled the deck again. He was about to deal another hand when Amelia stopped him.

“I probably should hit the road,” she said with a sigh. 

Jake placed the cards back in their box and gathered up all the little bits of napkin. He supposed he should get going too, back to NYC and his life with Natalya.

“Yeah me too,” he replied.

Amelia raised her eyebrows questioningly, as if she could read his mind. 

“To your fiancée?”

Jake looked out at the parking lot, the sea of cars twinkling in the mid morning sunshine. He could end it, he really could. He could walk into the apartment they both shared and tell her that he wanted more from his life than fancy dinners and weekends in the Hamptons. More than working 10 hour days in a windowless office in midtown, trying to win a game that felt more like gambling every day. 

He could also just get in his BMW and drive south, past Atlantic City, all the way to the very tip of Cape May, a thin stretch of land with deep, blue water in three directions. 

But Jake knew he wasn’t going to do any of those things.

“I hope you have fun in AC,” he said. “But not too much fun. No strangers or headaches.”

Amelia laughed. “I’ll do my best,” she responded. Her expression then turned serious.

“It was really nice meeting you, Jake,” she said. ‘Seriously. I don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun at a New Jersey rest area before.”

Jake took the hand she offered, giving it a firm shake.

“Me too,” he replied. She tossed the remnants of her iced coffee into the trash and grabbed her purse off of the table. 

She was about to walk out the door when she turned back towards him.

“Oh, and I’m really sorry about your mom.”

Jake thanked her and watched as she exited onto the pavement, turned left and then headed towards the long line of parked cars. He threw out his own empty cup and stuffed the deck of cards back into his backpack. As he was leaving, two boys, about ten years old, raced towards the doorway. He held the door open for them, checking first to make sure their mother was close by. She gave him a nod of thanks. 

Jake suddenly had a memory of running barefoot as a child across the hot sand, the foamy waves of the Atlantic Ocean spread out in front of him. It was so strong he could almost smell the salt air, feel the grains of sand wedge between his toes. 

Maybe he didn’t have to change everything to be happy. Perhaps he could just find a new job, something that made him feel like he was actually making a difference in the world. 

Jake was smiling as he unlocked the door to his car. But before that, he thought, he just might buy a Tesla.

Amelia

Amelia left her friends sitting at the bar, promising she would be right back. Jackie grinned at her from underneath the lacy white veil they had insisted she wear all weekend. 

“Don’t be too long,” her friend said. ‘We are ordering shots!”

Amelia exited the restaurant and went down the hallway, past all the slot machines, to the main floor of the casino. She sat down at a table, running her fingertips over the smooth green felt. She then smiled up at the other players.

“How’s everyone’s luck tonight?” she asked. 

The man seated next to her groaned.  “Terrible,” he answered. “But then again poker isn’t really about luck, is it?”

Amelia picked up the two cards she had been dealt with a smile.

“No I suppose it isn’t”, she said. She tossed a red chip into the center of the table. “I know someone who used it to pay for college though.”