Seer by Robin Roseau Page A

counting family, this is my first social event since.”
    I hadn’t known that.
    There was a pregnant pause, broken by Dolores. “There are variations to five hundred,” she said. “Which set of rules do you follow?”
    “Variations?” said Gabby. “What variations?”
    “Do you play nulla?” she asked.
    Five hundred is a trick game, similar to bridge. Nulla is a rule that some people hate. If you have a poor hand, you can bid nulla, and if you get the bid, then you’re saying instead of taking as many tricks as possible, you won’t take any at all. Your opponents will try to force you to take at least one trick.
    “No,” Gabby said. “ Nulla is for wimps.”
    “Do you then allow someone to declare a misdeal if they have a poor hand?”
    “You play what you’re dealt,” Gabby said.
    I actually liked playing nulla, but I hadn’t been willing to fight with everyone else about it. I tried declaring “house rules” a few times, but it hadn’t been worth it. And so we didn’t include it.
    “All right. Do you play six-bids?”
    “No.”
    “The last variation I know has to do with bidding,” Dolores said. “Some people say six hearts. Some people say indicate hearts. They are both six bids, but they imply little differences.”
    “We say ‘six’,” Gabby said. “I’ve never heard anyone say ‘indicate’.”
    “We have a few special rules though,” Patty said. “We don’t let partners be partners. It has led to some uncomfortable fights in the past, so we don’t do it. Sidney will declare who is partner with whom, and we play two games then switch. If one table finishes early, they might play a third game, but it doesn’t count for the overall standings.”
    Dolores nodded. “Are you guys hard core?”
    “We focus on the game,” Gabby said. “We’re kind of competitive.”
    “There are prizes,” I said. “Including a booby prize. If you win the booby prize, you have to put it on, and we take pictures.”
    Dolores laughed nervously. “What is it?”
    “Whatever I buy,” I said with a grin.
    “Don’t let her fool you,” Dean said. “She has a closet full of prizes, and she picks the booby prize based on who has to wear it.”
    “I do not!” I replied in mock indignation.
    “And yet, every time you win, it’s something innocuous,” Dean said, “but when I have the rare bad night, it’s something horribly embarrassing.”
    “I didn’t say I didn’t pick the prize based on who is getting it,” I said with a grin. “But I don’t have an entire closet to choose from. It’s only half a closet.”
    That generated laughter.
    “Like what?” Dolores asked.
    “I had to wear a clown nose last month,” Gabby admitted.
    “It was cute,” Elsa said. “The last time I lost, I had to wear one of those hats that kids can get when they go to Burger King.” She gestured with her hands, simulating a crown. “But Dean got the best shirt one day. Gabby wanted the shirt.”
    Dean glowered. “I know you saved that one for me!” he said, looking at me.
    “I did,” I replied. I looked at Dolores. “It was a cropped tee shirt.” I gestured across my middle. “And across the chest, it said, ‘100% Woman’.”
    There were chuckles from around the room.
    “Don’t worry,” I assured her. “It’s all in fun, and I save the best for Dean.”
    “Sidney picks out the best prizes,” Patty said. “A few months ago, I won a really good book.” She turned to me. “It was fascinating. Thank you.”
    Dolores turned to me. “I didn’t realize you put so much work into it.”
    I shrugged. “It’s not that much work. A couple of times a year, I go shopping. I wrap everything but leave cryptic little post-it notes on them so I remember what they each are. Nothing is expensive, but I try to find things people wouldn’t buy for themselves.”
    “I’d have bought that shirt that Dean wore,” Gabby said. We all laughed. She actually wouldn’t have, but she may have in her younger