’Tis The Dang Season
’Tis The Dang Season
TATE
I stared down at the ticket in my hand.
That couldn’t be right.
6, 27, 13, 20, 17, 34
My hand shook as I double checked the numbers again.
I sat down on the floor in the middle of the very busy gas station. Sip and Dip was a staple in the little town of Haven, NY.
You could buy just about anything.
A cold fountain soda.
A beer.
A bit of chewing tobacco if you were still of a mind to ruin your life.
Fill up your tank.
Oh, and buy a lotto ticket.
“Holy shit.”
“Tate? Are you all right?”
Melissa Westchester peered over the counter. She was also a staple of the Sip and Dip. And Miss Melissa didn’t get out of her chair for anything.
Not even a grown man of six foot four sitting in the middle of her freshly mopped floor.
At least I hoped so based on the pervasive lemon smell burning my nostrils.
“I’m not sure.”
“Well, either you are or you aren’t, honey.”
I tried to get up off the floor, but my legs were so damn wobbly I landed on my ass again.
This time, Melissa did get off her stool and come around. She leaned down to grip my shoulder. She was all of ninety-eight pounds and smelled of Windsong perfume and cigarettes. “Need help?”
I grinned at her. “Pretty sure I’d pull you down with me.”
“I’m stronger than I look. Not sure you want to be down there on that floor though. Marshmallow emptied his bladder again.”
And with that I laughed so loud that she straightened and took a big step back.
“Are you having an event? Do I need to call Doc Kelly?”
“No.” I managed to get my feet under me and struggled to get up. “But I’m about to make your year, Melissa.”
She peered up at me. “Oh, are you finally going to marry me?”
I laughed and flipped the ticket around to show her. “No, but you’re going to get the biggest tip in the history of life.”
“Stop.” She turned around at the numbers written on the white board above the register. She tried to pluck the ticket out of my hand, but I held on tight.
“I love you dearly, Miss Melissa, but there’s no way you’re taking that ticket out of my hands.”
She cackled. “You’re a smart boy.” She patted my arm. “You remember me when you cash that in, you hear?”
“Believe me, that’s not going to be a problem. You’re officially my lucky charm.” I picked her up and swung her around in a circle and pressed a smacking kiss to her mouth then set her down.
“That doesn’t count as my tip.”
I tipped my ballcap back off my sweaty forehead with a laugh. “That’s fair.”
I followed her to the register, my heart racing, and I was pretty sure my feet weren’t even under me.
She hurried around the counter to the lotto machine and printed out the winning numbers, pushing it across the counter. “Let’s just check one more time, shall we?”
I nodded.
The numbers wavered a little. Maybe I’d had a little heatstroke. It was still ninety-three degrees at eight in the evening and the AC unit in my truck had shit the bed.
I set my ticket down on the counter and read the numbers out loud one more time.
July thirteenth changed my life.
I was officially worth 647.3 million dollars.
Buy or Borrow
’Tis The Dang Season