Follow Your Heart
A day at the track has an expected ending for a down-on-his-luck gambler.
Upstate New York, 1957
The Promise
It was a morning like every other morning in October. David Lang, his gangly figure stretched over a red plastic chair, was eating breakfast with his wife. Their breakfast was simple yet comforting: crispy bacon, scrambled eggs, buttered toast, and coffee. A small dish of strawberry preserves sat in the middle of the table, next to a vase with a single daisy plucked from their garden. It was probably the type of morning meal that was set in every other house on the street. Everything was punctual and uniform on these tree-lined lanes.
David was the aberration. He was temporarily between jobs, so he had the whole day ahead of him. That was how the upbeat Anita liked to put it, as though they were enjoying a resort vacation. David was undeceived. He displayed characteristic nervous energy as he scraped his scrambled eggs with the tines of his fork and gazed out at the sleepy street outside, the suburbs with its parade of green lawns and neat line of driveways. Did they belong here? Anita probably did. She certainly looked the part of a typical suburban housewife. Her blond hair was neatly pinned up, her flared skirt was starched, and her apron neat…yet her blue eyes reflected a mixture of worry and determination. David wondered if…
