“No, I don’t.”
“What bothers you the most—not wanting the money or having to make a decision about it?” Mayra asked.
“The decision.” I knew as soon as the words were out of my mouth that they were both true and a mistake.
“You can’t avoid decisions,” Mayra said. She kept running her fingers through my hair, which was keeping me relatively stable as she talked. “Making choices is important in all aspects of your life, and avoiding the hard ones isn’t going to help you in the long run. You can’t just wait for things to go away. What if you couldn’t decide on what to have for dinner? Eventually, you’d starve.”
“I haven’t done that in a long time,” I told her.
“But you have, haven’t you?”
“I haven’t starved,” I pointed out.
“Went to bed hungry?”
“Yeah.”
“If you don’t want the money, Matthew…” Mayra paused and let out a long breath. “Well, I guess I’ll support that. I won’t like it, and I won’t pretend to understand it, but I will support it. But refusing to make a decision? I can’t let you do that.”
Lifting my head, I looked up into her eyes for a brief moment before looking down again. Her expression told me everything. She was right, and she knew it. She wasn’t going to let it go. I also knew she was right. Refusing to look at the numbers wasn’t about the ticket or the money. I just didn’t want to have to decide. There was too much to consider, too much to worry about, too much riding on such a choice. I didn’t want to face it.
I couldn’t deny the truth in Mayra’s words. What if I continued to ignore everything I didn’t want to have to face as I went through life? What would that be like for Mayra? If I wanted her to stay with me, and I definitely did, I couldn’t just avoid major decisions in our lives. I couldn’t put all of that on her and expect her to make decisions for me. It wouldn’t be fair, and it wouldn’t be a partnership, which was what we were supposed to have.
“Okay,” I heard myself whisper.
“Okay?” Mayra repeated, turning the single word into a question.
“I’ll look,” I said. “I’ll look to see if it’s the winning ticket.
Both my arms and legs felt cold, numb, and hot all at once. My hands were shaking so badly, I couldn’t see the numbers on the slightly duck-sauce stained and stinky piece of paper.
“I found it,” Mayra announced. She turned my laptop around and displayed the Ohio lotto website. “Do they match?”
I tried to focus on the trembling paper, but I couldn’t really see it. I ended up dropping it on the table next to the computer and trying to read it that way.
The screen showed 8, 19, 28, 29, 32, and 38.
Just like the ticket.
“Oh my God,” Mayra muttered.
My hands stopped shaking, and a cold feeling of dread washed over me. In a moment’s time, images of my life as a ridiculously rich man flooded through my brain. At first, everything seemed great. I could afford the best health insurance and medication. Megan’s care was solidified with private specialists and in-home care. Mayra’s and my tuitions were not a problem. Then things in my head began to change. Arguments over what to do with the money, what charitable organizations were the most deserving, and which relatives to avoid this month became the focal point of my imaginary conversations with Mayra.
“I don’t want it,” I whispered. My gaze moved to her face. Mayra looked like she was suffering from shock, much as I was. “I don’t know what to do with it. I can’t take that chance, Mayra. I can’t.”
For several minutes, we both just alternated between staring at the ticket and staring at the computer screen. The weird feeling was still permeating my limbs because I knew this wasn’t really over yet. It wouldn’t be over until I burned the damn ticket in the fireplace or maybe just flushed it down the toilet.
Of course, it was Mayra who broke out of the trance first with all the answers on the tip of her tongue.
“I know what to do with it,” Mayra said suddenly. When I looked up at her face, her eyes were sparkling. “I know exactly what to do.”
I gripped the edge of the computer desk with my fingers. My hands were shaking, and I couldn’t look Mayra in the eye. I had the feeling she wasn’t going to suggest flushing the ticket, and I wasn’t sure I could cope with any other options.
“It will be okay,” Mayra said softly as she placed her hand over mine. “I’ll be there with you every step of the way.”
“What are we going to do?” I could barely hear my own voice.
“We’re going to give it away.”