“Really nice,” Trent said, giving me an impish once-over. Jim slapped the back of his head and he yelped. “What’d I say?” he said, rubbing the back of his head.
“Have a seat, Abby. Watch us take Trav’s money,” one of the twins said. I couldn’t tell which was which; they were carbon copies of each other, even their tattoos matched.
The room was peppered with vintage pictures of poker games, pictures of poker legends posing with Jim and someone I assumed to be Travis’s grandfather, and antique playing cards along the shelves.
“You knew Stu Ungar?” I asked, pointing to a dusty photo.
Jim’s squinty eyes brightened. “You know who Stu Unger is?”
I nodded. “My dad’s a fan, too.”
He stood up, pointing to the picture beside it. “And that’s Doyle Brunson, there.”
I smiled. “My dad saw him play, once. He’s unbelievable.”
“Trav’s granddaddy was a professional … we take poker very seriously around here,” Jim smiled.
I sat between Travis and one of the twins while Trenton shuffled the deck with moderate skill. The boys put in their cash and Jim divvied out the chips.
Trenton raised an eyebrow. “You wanna play, Abby?”
I smiled politely and shook my head. “I don’t think I should.”
“You don’t know how?” Jim asked.
I couldn’t hold back a smile. Jim looked so serious, almost paternal. I knew what answer he expected, and I hated to disappoint him.
Travis kissed my forehead. “Play … I’ll teach you.”
“You should just kiss your money goodbye, now, Abby,” Thomas laughed.
I pressed my lips together and dug into my purse, pulling out two fifties. I held them out to Jim and waited patiently as he traded them for chips. Trenton’s mouth tightened into a smug smile, but I ignored him.
“I have faith in Travis’s teaching skills,” I said.
One of the twins clapped his hands together. “Hells yeah! I’m going to get rich tonight!”
“Let’s start small this time,” Jim said, throwing in a five-dollar chip.
Trenton dealt, and Travis fanned out my hand for me. “Have you ever played cards?”
“It’s been a while,” I nodded.
“Go Fish doesn’t count, Pollyanna,” Trenton said, looking at his cards.
“Shut your hole, Trent,” Travis said, glancing up at his brother before looking back down to my hand. “You’re shooting for higher cards, consecutive numbers, and if you’re really lucky, in the same suit.”
The first hand, Travis looked at my cards and I looked at his. I mainly nodded and smiled, playing when I was told. Both Travis and I lost, and my chips had dwindled by the end of the first round.
After Thomas dealt to begin the second round, I wouldn’t let Travis see my cards. “I think I’ve got this,” I said.
“You sure?” he asked.
“I’m sure, baby,” I said.
Three hands later, I
had won back my chips and annihilated the stacked chips of the others with a pair of aces, a straight, and the high card.