Poked

by Naomi Niles

  Right away, I called her back.

  “Hey, you,” she said loudly. “You would not believe how shocked we all are.” In the distance, I could hear the affirmative, half-drunken shouts of her sister.

  “Did no one have faith in me?” I asked in a teasing tone.

  “No, it’s not that. It’s just—ten million dollars is a lot of money. A lot, lot.” Her voice trailed off. “Anyway, how soon are you coming home?”

  “I’ll be flying out of here tomorrow afternoon. Sean’s picking me up at the airport.”

  “Okay.” She hesitated for a moment. “You know I would be just as happy to see you even if you were coming home with no money. I’m just glad to have you back.”

  “I know you are, girl. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I hung up the phone and lay down on the bed, my shirt soaked with sweat. I was too tired to climb out of my clothes and into the shower. Anyone who would claim that I had won the money easily obviously hadn’t seen me retching onto the carpet on live television. It was a hard-fought victory, and I felt like the hero of some ancient epic who had just emerged from a cave after slaying a dragon. Right now, all I could think about was sleep. And then tomorrow… tomorrow, I would be headed home to see my love.

  ***

  On the following day at around six in the evening, Sean picked me up at Charleston International. As I climbed into the car with my bags, he gave me a proud pat on the shoulder.

  “Million-dollar man,” he said with a disbelieving shake of his head. “How does it feel?”

  “About the same as ever, honestly,” I replied. “Which probably means I’m still in shock. I’ll get used to it in a week or two.”

  “Yeah, you’ll wake up one morning and realize you won ten million dollars. You’ll text me at six in the morning: ‘Sean! I just won MILLIONS of dollars at an invitational in Vegas!’”

  “It would be funny if I didn’t know that’s exactly what’s going to happen. I’m like the guy from Memento: if I don’t get it tattooed on my arm, I’ll forget.”

  Sean laughed. “You’re the only person I know who could forget that he had just won ten million dollars. Now, where are we headed?”

  “To the bakery, if you don’t mind.”

  “You sure? You know it’s late, and Lori probably won’t be there.”

  “I know. I want to go by there anyway.”

  Sean shrugged as if to say, “Suit yourself.” As we merged onto the highway in the warmth of a southern spring, my heart warmed to the sight of the elms and azaleas on either side of us, the sun like a golden plate burning in the late-afternoon sky. I preferred this over all the excess and opulence of Vegas.

  “It’s a shame you didn’t get to see The Killers while you were down there,” said Sean. “They’ve been doing a ton of live shows in advance of their new album.”

  “You know, I’m not as big of a Killers fan as I used to be. I think Brandon has outgrown them.” Just then my phone started buzzing; it was Mom. “Hey, Mom. What’s up?”

  “Well, hey there,” said Mom. “I want you to know your dad and I were watching the game last night, and we’re real proud of you. I don’t know a whole lot about poker, so your dad had to explain it. The important thing is that you won, though.”

  “I did.” It still felt so weird to say. It was going to take a while to get used to. “What did the brothers have to say about it?”

  “Darryl just laughed, if you can believe it. I think he’s still in shock. Curtis has been saying for a long time that if anyone in our family was going to be a billionaire, it would be you.”

  “I’m not a billionaire yet,” I reminded her.

  “No, but you’re a lot closer than any of the rest of us. And your dad says to tell you it’s only a matter of time before you’re richer than King Croesus. Just invest it wisely, and you’ll never have to worry about anything else in life. And maybe help out your brothers sometime when they need it.”

  “Yeah. Hey, that reminds me: I know I promised I would help out with the barn whenever I had the money. It shouldn’t be any trouble now. The amount you were asking is a drop in the bucket compared to what I made over the weekend.”

  “Well, if you could help us, that would be great,” said Mom. “Obviously I’m not going to force you to spend your winnings on a barn, but I’ll never turn down a genuine offer of help. A generous spirit is more precious than gold.”

  In the background, I could hear Dad yelling, “Tell him he still needs to come out here! I’ll believe he has a ‘generous spirit’ when he helps put the barn up with the rest of my sons!”

  “Tell him I’ll be there,” I said with a laugh. “And when I fly down, I’ll take you all out to dinner. It’s the least I can do, really.”

  Mom seemed to have only the vaguest idea of how much money ten million dollars actually was. “Well, okay. I just don’t want to siphon all your money. Anyway,” she added in a knowing voice, “isn’t there a girl you were supposed to be helping?”

  “There is, actually. She’s next on my list.”

  By now, it was dusky enough that Sean had to turn on his headlights. In the distance, I could see the strip center approaching. A single lamppost cast a flickering yellow light over the empty parking lot.

  “Gotta go, Mom. I love you.”

  “Bye, son. See you when you get here.” I hung up the phone and returned it to my bag as Sean pulled up in front of the bakery.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Lori

  “Do you and Marshall have any plans tonight?” asked Sam as she swept the kitchen.

  I shook my head. “All I know is that he’s flying in at around five or six. Beyond that, we haven’t talked much about it.”

  “Shame. You must really miss him.”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  It was Monday morning, one of those warm, humid spring mornings that herald the approach of summer in South Carolina. The shop hadn’t yet opened, and neither of us felt particularly motivated; Sam was nursing a hangover, and I had only come to work out of obligation. It was the moment at the end of a mystery show when the case has been solved, and the murderer put away, when the hero returns home exhausted. Marshall had bested his opponent, and now our adventure was ending. We were living in the aftermath.

  Sam put on one of Grieg’s piano concertos and began lightly dusting the stovetops. Once I had finished cleaning the windows, I left and returned a moment later carrying two cans of fizzy lemonade. I handed one to her.

  “It’s almost the end of the school year,” said Sam. “I don’t even hardly pay attention to the semesters anymore. I used to measure my life by when the school year began and ended, even after I graduated. But at this point, I wouldn’t even notice if it weren’t for the annual influx of college students coming in here looking for summer jobs.”

  “Same,” I said sadly. “I almost wish we could live our lives in semesters, not just when we were in school. Then again, I’ve always sort of wished I could be in school for the rest of my life.”

  I sat down at the counter with a heavy feeling. Although the air conditioning was on its highest setting, sweat clung to my neck and face. I missed the mildness of summers in Pennsylvania, which were hardly summers at all by the standards of the South. In Pittsburgh, I could go jogging during the summer months without having to worry about heat stroke.

  I peered through the window as if half-hoping that Marshall might have returned early and not told me. Next door, a gardener in overalls was scooping dirt into a basket. Painters were painting; it felt like the entire strip mall was undergoing a renovation.

  “Everything changes,” said Sam with a shake of her head. “It really is the end of a season.”

  “It feels like the end of a chapter in our lives,” I replied. “Especially after what happened last night.”

  “Yeah, your life is going to be dramatically different.”

  Sam had been making comments to this effect since last night, and it was starting to get
on my nerves a little. “You know I’m not entitled to his money just because we’re dating, right? The fact that he’s suddenly ridiculously wealthy doesn’t change our relationship one iota.”

  “Perhaps not yet,” she said. “But it will.”

  I sipped my drink with a feeling of frustration. I wish there was a way of getting her to understand that I wasn’t acting out of self-interest. She had a hard time conceiving of a relationship that wasn’t driven by lust or greed.

  I watched as a fly settled on the ledge outside the window as if wanting to come in. It was the time of year where we had to carry fly-swatters on our person at all times; and no matter how many we killed, more would sneak in whenever the doors opened.

  “Think about what we could do with some of that cash, though,” said Sam. Throwing down the washcloth, she sat down at the bar next to me. “We could really clean up this place.”

  “If Marshall offers to help us, that’s his right. I’m not getting my hopes up. But it does feel like we’re making progress, wouldn’t you agree? Things have improved for us drastically since Marshall and I started dating, and I don’t even mean all the ways he’s helped us. They’re just—better. Life is better. Before he showed up, it felt like I was stuck in a rut, doing the same thing day after day. Now it feels like life has direction again.”

  “It’s true,” said Sam. She reached into the display case and pulled out a glazed muffin. “That’s probably the thing I love best about being in a relationship: you realize how much more there is to life than just books. Not that there’s anything wrong with books, of course.”

  “No, they’re lovely, but there’s more. A lot more.” I drew a deep breath. “When did you realize you and Jamal were in it until the end? When did you know it wasn’t just a fling?”

  Sam thought about it for a moment. “I suppose it was the night when I had to cancel our plans because I was sick. I texted him and told him I couldn’t come over. An hour later, he showed up at my door carrying a giant baguette and all the ingredients for chicken soup. He went into the kitchen and made the soup from scratch and served it to me in bed. And that was how I knew.”

  “That’s lovely.”

  “Yeah.” Sam smiled a weak smile. “Why do you ask?”

  “I’m just thinking. Marshall and I have so little in common, and at first, that gave me pause. But then I think, he’s been so good to me and so faithful, and he’s never given me a reason to distrust him. I could do a lot worse than Marshall.”

  Sam glared at me as if she couldn’t believe we were having this conversation. “I swear to God, Lor,” she growled softly, “if you don’t marry that man, I’m going to divorce you from being my sister.”

  “No promises,” I said cheerfully, and rose from the stool, humming to myself, while Sam continued to stare in disbelief.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Marshall

  When I showed up at Lori’s door at a few minutes after seven on Tuesday night, she stared in surprise for a moment as though hardly daring to believe it was me, then flung her arms around me.

  “If I had known you were coming, I would’ve dressed better,” she said as she stroked my back. She was wearing a pair of thin gray cotton shorts and an over-sized black t-shirt with a picture of Edgar Allan Poe on the front. “Let’s never be apart that long again; it was awful.”

  “I didn’t particularly enjoy myself either, but at least I won the money.” I felt very much like Jason having just returned home with the Golden Fleece. “I spent the whole weekend being tired and lonely and depressed.”

  “And throwing up, you poor, dear thing,” said Lori with an expression of pity. “Why don’t you come inside? I was just going to make myself a bowl of macaroni, but since you’re here, I could go for something more elaborate. What do you want?”

  “I’ve really been craving some of your vegetable lasagna, if we’re being honest.” I seated myself at the table in the dining room, shoving aside a stack of tax files so I could rest my elbows. “By the way, where’s your sister?”

  Lori was already removing the baking sheet from its place under the stove. “She and Jamal went out for the night. I think they’re going to go see a movie. She was hoping for an action flick, and he wanted to see a quiet indie. They were still squabbling when they left.”

  I shook my head. “Sometimes I don’t know how those two are ever going to make it.”

  “They’ll be fine. Sam normally loves indies, but sometimes she gets in the mood to watch something trashy. I get it, but I think it confuses Jamal. She kept that part of herself a secret when they were first dating, and he got the impression that she was uber-pretentious. I told her we’d have a girl’s night later this week and watch the entire Mummy series.”

  “You could probably watch the whole series in the time it would take to finish Fanny and Alexander,” I pointed out.

  Lori’s face fell, and she set down the baking pan on the floor. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. If I had known you were going to fall asleep…”

  “It’s okay! I was really tired. We’ll finish it sometime, I promise.”

  “I don’t even remember where we were in the movie.”

  “I think we had just gotten to the part where he had a stroke. The thing about that movie is, it’s almost too good at what it does. It wants to create the feeling of sitting in front of a fire on a snowy day, and it does. So, of course, the minute we started watching it, I fell right to sleep.”

  Looking somewhat mollified, Lori rose to her feet. There was a package of lasagna noodles in the pantry. She pulled it out and set it on the counter, then dug through the fridge for cheese and mushrooms and zucchini.

  While I was cutting up the vegetables, I told her about my weekend in Vegas: where I had stayed, what I had eaten, how I had slept. “I don’t see the appeal, honestly. I would much rather have spent the weekend at Disney World.”

  “True, but nobody at Disney World is going to give you ten million dollars,” Lori pointed out. “I’m sorry you had a rough time, but I’m glad it paid off.”

  “I wouldn’t have minded so much if you had been with me. Trips like that are meant to be shared with somebody.”

  “So why did you throw up? Did you get food poisoning?”

  I shrugged. “I think it was a combination of nerves and the pressure and missing you. There was a moment when I looked up at Nick, and the weight of the situation suddenly became real to me. I had somehow lucked into the final round of this match, and the reward was ten million. If I failed, I might never get this chance again. And I wanted it—not so much for myself but for everyone I could help with that money. My parents. My brothers. You.”

  “That’s sweet,” said Lori. “But you should hold onto your money. I knew a woman who earned millions in a settlement after her husband died of cancer, but she blew it all buying houses for her grandkids and taking them to Disney World three times a year.”

  “I wouldn’t say she was blowing it. What good is all that money if you can’t spend it on your grandkids?”

  “I guess,” said Lori, though she still didn’t sound convinced. “Still, it was an enormous accomplishment, and you have every reason to be proud of it. I hope the bastards who put you in the hospital were watching the game on TV. I’d love to have seen the looks on their faces when you won all that money.”

  “Let’s hope no one tells them, actually,” I said with a shudder. “Not until I’ve gotten the heck out of this town.”

  Lori studied my face for a moment. She had curious, reflective eyes that always seemed to be looking past what you had said to the substratum of meaning behind it. “Are you thinking about moving home?”

  “Maybe eventually. But I will need to fly back for a visit when the next month or so. I promised my parents. One of the first things I did when I got home today was pay for the repairs to their barn. But they want me to come back and help them rebuild it, and I’d love it if you came with me this time.”

  “I think I’d
like that, too,” said Lori.

  All through supper, I debated how I was going to tell her about the other purchase I had made that day. Now that it was done, I felt curiously shy about it. I didn’t want her to think I was trying to buy my way into her heart, and I didn’t want her to be angry when she found out. But she was going to find out eventually, so it was best not to put it off.

  We drank a glass of wine and shared a couple slices of lemon pie each. It felt good just to be in the same room with her again, to lay next to her on the couch with my head on her shoulder. My body wanted her, desperately. It didn’t help that she was wearing those gray shorts and showing just a hint of cleavage. It didn’t help that whenever she laughed, I felt a rush of blood to my brain that was better than any drug.

  Finally, as she walked me to the door, I knew I couldn’t put it off any longer.

  “So listen,” I said slowly. “Last night when I flew in, I went down to the strip center and bought it.”

  “Bought it?” repeated Lori, as if she hadn’t heard me correctly.

  I nodded. The words still sounded as strange to me as they did to her. “I paid Gustman and the other owners a pretty substantial sum of money, enough to keep them satisfied. We had to spend hours going over paperwork and talking to the realtors, but they’ve agreed to relocate. The bakery is yours now, and you can do whatever you want with it: expand, rebuild… The whole strip is yours.”

  I spoke the last words quietly, unsure of their effect. Seeing the stunned look on her face, I was quick to add, “I know I probably should’ve consulted you first, and you have every right to be angry with me. I just didn’t want you to have to keep worrying about paying that exorbitant rent.”

  “Angry?” said Lori, her voice no louder than a whisper. “What on earth would make you think I would be angry?”