Second Chance at Love(71)
Before she could further argue her point of not being prepared for a spur of the moment trip, the next sound she heard was a dial tone. She immediately called her sister. When Starr answered, she demanded, “What in the world is going on?”
“Girl, the old babe squad is taking us on a trip to Vegas for the next four days.” The excitement in her voice wasn’t missed. The last time Starr took a trip to Vegas she had been in a depressed mood because of her fertility issues. This time she was going to have fun.
“What about Kalvin, Sydney and Shayla?” Karen questioned, baffled. Starr had never up and left the toddlers, who wouldn’t be turning two until June.
“Listen, that’s what they have a father for. Mommy said Dom agreed to look after Ashley and Kyle, so what’s the problem?”
Yeah, what was the problem? Here she had a group of women who wanted to give her the time of her life and she was being stuck in her role as good old dependable Karen. If her sister could leave three toddlers in the care of their father, surely she could do the same.
“Nothing. There’s no problem.” Her sister’s excitement was contagious. “Get off the phone so I can pack!”
Karen didn’t know what happened when they landed in Vegas. It was as if her mother and her counterparts, aka Janet Peretti, Joan Stiles, Nita Jackson, Beverly Dawson, and Beatrice Warrington, had lost their minds. And that’s putting it lightly.
The first night they arrived everything was cool. They had a wonderful dinner at Emeril’s restaurant in the MGM Grand. The next morning they shuffled to The Spa at the Wynn where they were staying. Surrounded by pure opulence, they enjoyed being pampered like the ebony queens they were.
It was the second night where all hell began to break loose. Beverly whacked a twenty-something upside the head on the casino floor of The Venetian because she stepped on her bunion and refused to apologize. The redhead retaliated by yelling, “You mean old bitch,” in Beverly’s face. Before Starr could snatch her up, the old gals crew swam around her as if she was bloody flesh and they were sharks. By the time they got finished taking turns tongue lashing her and threatening to beat her so bad her own momma wouldn’t recognize her, a crowd had gathered, the girl was a hysterical mess and Karen was mortified as they were escorted out of the casino by security for causing a ruckus.
The third night as they headed out to the Bellagio casino Summer made them swear there would be no repeat of last night. Oh goodness, why did she do that? They had to listen to a thirty minute discourse about how they were old enough to be everybody’s mother on planet earth and how no snot-nosed, stringy-headed, strumpet was going to disrespect any one of them. They all cut their eyes at Ava when she huffed, “We get it. Can we go now?”
In the end, the mature ones agreed to behave. Karen should have known something was up from the glimmer in Joan’s eyes as she elbowed Beatrice.
Hitting the casino floor, they all scattered about to try their hand at gambling. Ava was working the one armed bandit when Starr came charging over with Summer and Karen on her heels. Pointing to the poker table, Starr warned, “You better get over there. Your mother-in-law just placed eight one thousand dollar chips on her hand.”
Ava shot up from the stool she’d been sitting on while sipping on a piña colada. “What!” Leaving her drink, she marched over to the poker table. Tapping the woman on the shoulder, she said, “Mom Beatrice, what are you doing?” She did not want to have to explain to Langston how she let his mother blow eight grand in twenty minutes.
Beatrice gave Ava the talk-to-the-hand move. “Hush daughter, I’m trying to concentrate.”
Ava shot daggers at Starr, Karen and Summer, who were snickering like a pack of hyenas. Raising her eyebrow at Janet as if to say you’re going to let her do me like that? Janet just smiled and shrugged her shoulders.
Rolling her eyes, Ava gathered around Beatrice with everyone else as they watched her play her hand. Beatrice was the last to reveal her hand. Everyone groaned at the downcast look on Beatrice’s face. She’d just blown eight grand. The big Texan sitting across from her had a smile that was as wide as his hometown of Dallas. He’d just spread two aces and two jacks; the other two men had folded. Letting out a big sigh, she slowly turned her hand over and spread her cards. Four tens. The small crowd behind her went wild.
Leaning across the table, she scooped up her winnings of thirty-two thousand dollars. She was hot and wasn’t about to stop. It wasn’t that she needed the money, it was the adrenaline rush that she loved.