miss having someone to talk to,” Carrie said softly.
He paused in the act of clearing the table. “I never had anyone to talk to,” he said quietly. “You can’t miss something you never had.”
“But John’s mother,” Carrie began.
“She had her own interests, and they didn’t include the price of feed or the availability of Western saddles,” Jason said shortly. “Would you like some coffee?”
Carrie nodded, rising to help him. She followed his lead as they put things away and stacked the dishes in the sink, working in silence. Carrie’s mind was racing, trying to put together the clues he dropped like random pebbles into a pool. His lovely wife had not been concerned with his business, then. What of it? A husband and wife could share enough in bed to make everything else insignificant.
“Dad, when are we going to get started?” Johnny’s voice rang out stridently from the back of the house.
Carrie chuckled. “I hope he doesn’t play for money,” she said to Jason.
He plugged in the coffeepot. “He certainly does. Are you solvent?”
“I have about twelve dollars in my purse.”
Jason sighed. “That sounds a little short. He takes IOU’s though. He’s into Mark for ten baseball cards and a trip to the Hartford Auto Show. Are you ready to face The Gambler?”
Carrie squared her shoulders in mock resolution. “I’m ready.”
They joined Johnny in his bedroom, where he had cleared a space on his blanket for the game.
“What took you guys so long?” he complained. “I’ve been waiting for hours.”
“I doubt that, John,” his father said. “No cheating, now. You’re playing with a lady.”
“I never cheat,” Johnny replied, outraged.
“That’s not what Mark said,” Jason replied loftily, catching Carrie’s eye.
“He’s a sore loser,” Johnny said disgustedly, shuffling the cards. “Do you want to deal, Miss Maxwell?”
“You can do the honors,” Carrie answered, taking the seat Jason offered her next to the bed. When Jason sat down also Johnny flexed his fingers and began spitting out cards like a Vegas blackjack dealer.
“Let the game begin,” Jason intoned. Carrie giggled.
Johnny glared at both of them, offended. “Are you going to be serious, or not?”
“Not,” Jason said, and Johnny stopped dealing.
“Just kidding,” he amended, and the boy resumed the action. Jason glanced at Carrie, who looked away to keep from laughing.
They played three games and Carrie won two of them. Between hands Johnny allowed them to pause long enough for Jason to bring the coffee in from the kitchen. Otherwise he was all business. At the conclusion of the last game Carrie fanned her cards on the bed and said, “Gin.”
Johnny tossed his cards into a heap. “I give up.”
“No, you lose,” his father said.
“You owe me two thousand, three hundred dollars,” Carrie announced.
“I thought we were playing for pennies!” Johnny said.
“Did we agree to that?” Carrie asked Jason, wrinkling her forehead.
He shrugged. “You should have gotten it in writing, John.”
“Very funny,” Johnny said sourly. “Boy, Miss Maxwell, you sure can do a lot of things for a teacher.”
“Thank you,” Carrie said. “I think.”
“Bedtime, boyo,” Jason said, standing up and collecting the cards.
“Oh, no, Dad. Come on. Miss Maxwell is here.”
“And you have a therapy session at nine in the morning. Do you want to sleep through Dr. Weston’s visit?”
“Not a bad idea,” Johnny observed darkly.
Carrie helped Jason straighten the room, which was littered with magazines and books as well as the remains of several snacks.
“I can’t wait for you to get back on your feet, kid,” Jason said, tossing a brown apple core into the trash can by the door. “You’re going to clean this room with a fire hose.”
“It’s not my fault I’m laid up,” Johnny said, smiling slyly.
“Oh yes, and how you hate being waited on all the time,” Jason replied. “It
He paused in the act of clearing the table. “I never had anyone to talk to,” he said quietly. “You can’t miss something you never had.”
“But John’s mother,” Carrie began.
“She had her own interests, and they didn’t include the price of feed or the availability of Western saddles,” Jason said shortly. “Would you like some coffee?”
Carrie nodded, rising to help him. She followed his lead as they put things away and stacked the dishes in the sink, working in silence. Carrie’s mind was racing, trying to put together the clues he dropped like random pebbles into a pool. His lovely wife had not been concerned with his business, then. What of it? A husband and wife could share enough in bed to make everything else insignificant.
“Dad, when are we going to get started?” Johnny’s voice rang out stridently from the back of the house.
Carrie chuckled. “I hope he doesn’t play for money,” she said to Jason.
He plugged in the coffeepot. “He certainly does. Are you solvent?”
“I have about twelve dollars in my purse.”
Jason sighed. “That sounds a little short. He takes IOU’s though. He’s into Mark for ten baseball cards and a trip to the Hartford Auto Show. Are you ready to face The Gambler?”
Carrie squared her shoulders in mock resolution. “I’m ready.”
They joined Johnny in his bedroom, where he had cleared a space on his blanket for the game.
“What took you guys so long?” he complained. “I’ve been waiting for hours.”
“I doubt that, John,” his father said. “No cheating, now. You’re playing with a lady.”
“I never cheat,” Johnny replied, outraged.
“That’s not what Mark said,” Jason replied loftily, catching Carrie’s eye.
“He’s a sore loser,” Johnny said disgustedly, shuffling the cards. “Do you want to deal, Miss Maxwell?”
“You can do the honors,” Carrie answered, taking the seat Jason offered her next to the bed. When Jason sat down also Johnny flexed his fingers and began spitting out cards like a Vegas blackjack dealer.
“Let the game begin,” Jason intoned. Carrie giggled.
Johnny glared at both of them, offended. “Are you going to be serious, or not?”
“Not,” Jason said, and Johnny stopped dealing.
“Just kidding,” he amended, and the boy resumed the action. Jason glanced at Carrie, who looked away to keep from laughing.
They played three games and Carrie won two of them. Between hands Johnny allowed them to pause long enough for Jason to bring the coffee in from the kitchen. Otherwise he was all business. At the conclusion of the last game Carrie fanned her cards on the bed and said, “Gin.”
Johnny tossed his cards into a heap. “I give up.”
“No, you lose,” his father said.
“You owe me two thousand, three hundred dollars,” Carrie announced.
“I thought we were playing for pennies!” Johnny said.
“Did we agree to that?” Carrie asked Jason, wrinkling her forehead.
He shrugged. “You should have gotten it in writing, John.”
“Very funny,” Johnny said sourly. “Boy, Miss Maxwell, you sure can do a lot of things for a teacher.”
“Thank you,” Carrie said. “I think.”
“Bedtime, boyo,” Jason said, standing up and collecting the cards.
“Oh, no, Dad. Come on. Miss Maxwell is here.”
“And you have a therapy session at nine in the morning. Do you want to sleep through Dr. Weston’s visit?”
“Not a bad idea,” Johnny observed darkly.
Carrie helped Jason straighten the room, which was littered with magazines and books as well as the remains of several snacks.
“I can’t wait for you to get back on your feet, kid,” Jason said, tossing a brown apple core into the trash can by the door. “You’re going to clean this room with a fire hose.”
“It’s not my fault I’m laid up,” Johnny said, smiling slyly.
“Oh yes, and how you hate being waited on all the time,” Jason replied. “It
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