You think you’re better than your dad. But at least he took risks. He had a wife. He had you. Who do you have?
“Who do you have?” I ask her.
Then I realize that I’m doing it again. Arguing with a dead woman.
I play for about three hours. Then I hop in the shower and get ready. I feel like I’m prepping for a big date. I haven’t spent this much time getting ready in a long while. But I am excited to see David again, even though I just saw him this morning. And Charlie is a handsome enough guy that it’s worth looking my best.
I don’t have any illusions about myself. There’s a reason I’m not Miss Universe. But when I put my mind to it, I can turn a few heads.
The hotel restaurant is called the Zanzibar Lounge, which is a little exotic for vinyl-covered booths and Formica tabletops. But it’s a nice, homey atmosphere. I’m overdressed. David hugs me again. Charlie shakes my hand, then stoops to kiss my cheek.
“You look nice,” he says. “Going somewhere?”
“Uh…yeah,” I say. “I have a date.”
“You don’t have a date,” David says. To his father he says, “She doesn’t even have a boyfriend. She thinks boyfriends are a waste of time.”
“I see you two got to know each other rather well,” Charlie says, smiling at me. His eyes sparkle. I would like to just crawl under the table and die, but instead I flash him a smile.
“You never can tell what kids will say next!” I say brightly.
“Indeed. Would you care for some wine?”
He pours a little into a glass for me. We toast each other.
“Well,” says Charlie. “I hear you two had a great couple of weeks together.”
“We did,” I say. “I’m really going to miss you, David.”
David looks horribly embarrassed and pleased at the same time. He blushes and looks down.
“He’s gotten quite attached to you,” Charlie tells me.
“Dad,” says David. “Shut up.”
“So, you managed to sell your business rather quickly,” I say.
“The truth is, I decided not to sell it after all,” says Charlie. “It’s just doing too well right now. I know some people would say get out while you can, but I started it from nothing. I feel like it’s another baby.”
“What kind of business is it?”
“Computer parts,” Charlie says. “I sell them online.”
“That’s interesting,” I say.
“She knows all about computers, Dad,” says David.
“Yes, David tells me you have quite the setup at home,” Charlie says. “You play poker for a living, I gather?” He knits his eyebrows together.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” I say.
“How fascinating. David fancies himself quite the poker player too.”
“Why, yes, I know he does,” I say, smiling sweetly at David. The look on his face is pure panic. He’s worried I’m going to say something about the money he lost me. Don’t worry, I tell him with my eyes. I would never. “And what about your wife, Charlie? What does she do?”
“Oh, I’m not married,” Charlie says.
“You’re not? But Josie told me…”
Charlie interrupts me by digging through his pockets for some change. “Here, David,” he says. “Why don’t you go play some video games out in the lobby for a few minutes? They have an old-fashioned arcade out there.”
“Why? What are you going to talk about?” David says. But Charlie just grins at him and hands him some coins.
When his son is gone, Charlie says to me, “I would imagine that Josie told you a lot of things about me that aren’t true. Such as that I was running around on her.”
“She never told me that,” I say.
“Well, she told some people. But it wasn’t true. I never did that. It was really the other way around.”
“Charlie,” I say, “Josie was my best friend. But I also know she had a way of twisting things around to make herself look better. God love her, it’s just the way she was.”
Charlie looks relieved.
“I don’t mean to make her look bad. I just wanted you to know,” he says. “I think she told people I was remarried because it made her look like I’d abandoned her or something. The fact was, it destroyed me when we broke up. And I haven’t gotten married again because I was having a hard time moving on. Then I just threw myself into my work, and…” He shrugs. “Time passes so quickly,” he says. “It’s already been over five years since we split up.”
“I know,” I say. “Does David seem bigger to you since the last time you saw him?”
“I think he grew about a foot in the past few months,” says Charlie. “Listen, I want you to come visit us sometime. I know David would love to see you again.”
“Visit you where?”
“Why, back in England, of course,” says David. “I’m taking him home with me tomorrow.”
“Oh. So you’re moving back.” Why does this affect me so much?
“Yes, I know it’s fast. But really, why linger?”
“You’re right,” I say. “It’s always better just to rip the bandage off fast.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Nothing. Just an expression I use.”
“I see. How curious,” says Charlie, but something in his eyes tells me he knows just why I said that.
Dinner is torture for me, and I don’t know why. I barely taste the food. David chatters on about England. He’s excited to be going there. Charlie tells him about what his life will be like there. I feel like an observer. Like I’ve been my whole life, really. Always on the outside of other people’s lives, looking in.
Up until now, that has suited me just fine. But suddenly it feels like it’s not enough. And that bothers me.
After dinner we head out to the parking lot. David finds an outdoor fountain, and he gets distracted trying to fish out the pennies people have thrown in there. Charlie takes advantage of this to turn to me.
“I have to tell you something,” he says. “I hope this isn’t too sudden. After meeting you, I’m suddenly very sorry I’m not going to be sticking around longer.”
I stare at him. I had been thinking just the same thing. The world feels like it’s rippling underneath my feet, like I’m standing on water.
“Really,” I say.
He looks perplexed. “Is that your poker face?”
“What do you mean?” Of course, I know what he means. But I didn’t even know I was doing it.
“Your face. It just went all stony. Did I say something wrong?”
“No, no. I’m sorry. I guess it’s just a habit. When I don’t want people to know what I’m thinking.”
“I see. You don’t show that face to David. You hold nothing back from him.”
“I’m not sure what you—”
“He is just a kid, after all,” says Charlie. “Can’t hurt you. Easy to love. Right?”
I’m speechless. This guy’s reading me like a book. If I were sitting across the table from him, he’d have all my chips by now. And he doesn’t even appear to be trying that hard. But I can’t let him know that.
“David is a wonderful little boy,” I say.
“I can see that you really care for my son,” says Charlie. “And anyone who feels that strongly about him must be a very special person indeed.”
“I guess I should…probably be getting home now,” I say. “Thank you for a lovely dinner. Good luck with your business.” I tur
n and head for my car.
“Kat?” Charlie calls after me. I turn. He’s holding out a card. “My contact info. Won’t you please give serious thought to coming to see us in England? Please?”
I take the card and look at it.
“I own a share in a small business hotel near my house, so you could stay there if you’re more comfortable,” says Charlie. “There’s no pressure. It’s just…well. I guess I’m just waking up to the fact that life is short, you know?”
I put the card in my purse.
“Yeah,” I say. “I know.”
David comes running up from the fountain.
“Are you gonna come see us?” he demands.
“Maybe,” I say. “We’ll have to see. David, it was very nice having you as a guest. I wish you the best of luck in everything you do. You’re going to have a great life.”
I bend down and hug him. I make it fast. Then I simply turn and head straight for my car.
“Kat!” I hear David call.
I half-turn. I don’t want him to see my face right now.
“Kat, I’ll miss you!” he says.
I wave and nod. Then I get in my car and pull out as fast as I can. I make it about half a mile down the road. Then I have to pull over to the side, because I can’t see.
It takes about five minutes and the rest of those tissues from Mr. Molton’s office before it’s safe for me to drive again.
ELEVEN
A week passes. I spend most of that time playing. When I’m not at my computer, I’m at the gym. I’m not going to fall out of shape, like so many other players. That’s my life—gym, computer. I hardly talk to another human being. I feel focused. I feel determined.
The word lonely is not allowed.
Why should I feel lonely? I can find a friend anytime I feel like it. All I have to do is put on a tight dress and head out to a bar.
But who wants that? It means nothing. So I stay home, or I work out, or I sleep. Those are the three options I’ve allowed myself.
I qualify for the tournament, just like I knew I would. I do this by finishing in the top ten in a mini-tournament online. That means my thousand-dollar entry fee is covered.
I’m going to Vegas.
I buy myself an airline ticket. I make it one-way. I like the symbolism of that. Maybe I can trick myself into thinking I have to win if I ever want to come home again.
But coming home again isn’t part of my plan. I don’t think of where I live as home anyway. It’s just an apartment. A place where I keep my stuff. Home stopped existing for me the day I lost my dad. My new home will be where I make it.
My place did feel like a home for a couple of weeks, when David was here. But since he’s left, it’s been awfully quiet.
I blast my stereo to cover up his absence. I play it so loud my neighbors pound on the walls.
The plan now is still the same: win big, then travel the world, winning bigger every place I go. There’s no reason that plan shouldn’t work. There’s no luck involved, after all. It’s all skill.
And I know I’ve got the skills. If there was any doubt, qualifying for this tournament proved it. If I’m good enough to get in it, I’m good enough to win it. Yes, I might catch a bad break here or there. But skill wins out over luck every time.
It’s funny. After I qualify, my first instinct is to tell David. I have the idea that he will be proud of me. But I’m not about to call a ten-year-old kid in England to tell him I just won myself a seat in a poker game. That would look weird.
And I would probably get Charlie on the phone first. The idea of that makes my stomach do funny things.
Must be a touch of food poisoning, I think.
My next thought is to tell my dad, but that’s just an old habit. Besides, I’m sure he already knows. He’s with me all the time.
My third thought is to tell Josie. She’s another person I used to share good news with. But that too is no longer possible.
Dang, I think. Suddenly I have no one left to tell.
A bad feeling rises slowly out of my belly and spreads throughout my body. I sit there staring at my screen, where the word CONGRATULATIONS! is spelled out in a large font.
What kind of life is it when you have no one to share good news with?
Oh well, I think. Time to get packed. My flight is leaving in twenty-four hours. I’ve just made it under the wire.
Flying into Vegas, you can see how weird it is that someone decided to put a city right smack in the middle of the desert. It doesn’t look like the kind of place people should be living. It looks like an alien planet.
And when you step off the plane into the heat, you realize that air-conditioning is probably the greatest invention in the history of humanity.
The next greatest invention is the automobile. A taxi takes me to my hotel. There’s a massive fountain outside, spewing water into the air. I stand in the mist, feeling the coolness on my skin.
Then I check in. My room is nice. It has a hot tub and a fifty-inch television on the wall. I can’t help thinking that David would love both of those things. I imagine him snorkeling in the hot tub, with SpongeBob playing on the TV. The thought makes me laugh out loud.
It’s been a long time since I laughed.
This is pathetic, I tell myself. I need to stop thinking about that little twerp. I have a game to focus on.
That evening I put on my most deadly dress, a sleeveless blue number with a plunging neckline. I want to create as many distractions as possible for my opponents. It’s not the most comfortable piece of clothing in the world. And there’s a good chance I will be wearing it for a long time, especially if things get epic. But it’s a sacrifice I’m prepared to make.
Down at the registration table, I get my player ID number and my info packet. I’m going to be seated at table forty-nine. That doesn’t seem like a lucky number until I remember that it’s seven times seven. I breathe a little easier then. I don’t believe in that nonsense, but my dad did. Seven was his lucky number.
Poker used to be a game of cowboys. In the last twenty years, everyone has taken it up. Now all kinds of people play. The tournament room looks like the bar from Star Wars. There’s every kind of person you can think of, and several types that I could never have imagined. I like the diversity of it. It’s exciting.
But I’m here to beat these people, not to make friends with them. You can respect your opponents, but you also have to be looking for their weaknesses. And you damn well better not start liking them. It just makes it harder when it comes time to grind them into the dust.
My first table is made up of me and eight other players, plus the dealer. I take stock of each person in turn. They’re of every age, every race, every type of background. I have to remember that all of them have gone through the same trials I did. They had to be decent players just to get in the door. I cannot afford to underestimate any of them. That’s one of the first rules of poker: don’t get cocky.
But if they are all as good as me, in their own ways, that means they also each have their own weaknesses. And for the next several hours, I try to find those weaknesses and hammer away at them.
Poker is a game of survival. The weakest get weeded out quickly. You don’t even have to worry about it. It happens on its own. Bad players make mistakes that cost them their chips. When you’re down to a small stack, you’re at a serious disadvantage. That’s when you need luck.
And if you find yourself waiting for luck to strike, you’re in a bad spot. Generations of people have gone to Vegas hoping to get lucky. Instead, they go home with broken dreams and empty wallets. And th
ey deserve every bit of it.
“Shuffle up and deal,” says a man over the PA system. Everyone is so excited they burst into applause. And the tournament has begun.
People start getting eliminated right away. One young punk at my table obviously went to the David School of Poker. He goes all in on the first hand, then on the second hand, then on the third hand. He wins because everyone else is sure he must have great cards. I am the first to realize that this is his whole strategy. He’s got nothing else. He’s going to keep this up until someone puts him down for a nap.
I know just what to do. I bide my time until I get a nice draw—a pair of lovely ladies, smiling up at me in their sisterly way. Come on, girls, I say. Let’s show these people how it’s done.
I call the punk’s all-in bet with my whole stack. It’s just the two of us in this hand. We both show. My queens make him gulp. I can hardly believe what he’s showing—a seven and a deuce. Garbage. It takes a special kind of stupid to call a bet with that. Now everyone knows what a schmuck he is.
Needless to say, I take that pot. The punk gives me a weak smile. I ignore him. He’s down to about three chips, and now that everyone else has seen he’s full of it, they’re all gunning for him. He tries to hang on, but it’s like a pack of dogs turning on their wounded leader. Another couple of hands, and he’s the first player eliminated from our table.
And so it goes. There are two thousand players, so there are a lot of people to eliminate. The greatest number of them will get knocked out in the first couple of hours. After that, the knockouts will start to taper off. The weakest players are out first. The longer the tournament goes on, the better the players who are left. Poker tournaments are very Darwinian that way.
In most tournaments, the top fifty players or so would finish in the money. That means they would make some money, even if not very much. But this tournament is different. There can be only one winner, and she takes it all.
As if to drive the point home, there’s a table up on the stage with a large pile of cash on it. A spotlight shines down on the money, which we are told is one million dollars. There are no less than six very large gentlemen standing around it, making sure people don’t help themselves.