Luck, Love & Lemon Pie

by Amy E. Reichert

  “Okay, so, you’re dealt two cards.” Chris laid two cards on the table for each of them, both facedown, while his eyes watched MJ. “Keep them facedown for hold ’em.” He cupped his hand over the cards and lifted up just their corners to look. MJ copied him, her hands trembling a bit. She hadn’t thought of her father much in recent years; he’d died so long ago.

  “Then, the dealer will deal the shared cards. First three: the flop; then one: the turn; then the last one: the river.” She nodded in acknowledgment as Chris laid these cards on the table, setting aside a card after the three, and the one. “These go in the middle of the table. Using the two cards in your hand and the five cards on the table, you want to find the best five-card hand.”

  To focus her attention, MJ squeezed her left wrist with her right hand while she looked over the cards on the table, two eights, a queen, a two, a ten. She nodded, taking in the two eights she already had in her hand. She squeezed her wrist tighter until her heart slowed to normal. Until she was back to normal.

  “You ready for betting?” Chris asked, his eyes flicking down to her wrist then back to her face. She nodded.

  “Bring it.”

  “All right: betting. If you have the best hand, then you want to eke as much money out of your opponents as possible. If you’re bluffing, or don’t have a very strong hand, then you need to trick the rest of the players into thinking you do. You don’t say, ‘I have the nuts.’ ”

  “I sure hope not—that would be weird.”

  Chris rolled his eyes.

  “The nuts is the best possible hand with the cards that are showing. If you have the nuts, no one could possibly beat you, but you would never tell someone you had them unless you didn’t. Got it?”

  MJ nodded. “Got it.”

  By the time they climbed the stairs to their room an hour later, the kids were nestled down into their beds, visions of teenage dreams dancing in their heads, and MJ—floating on the success of her reconnection plan—wanted to reconnect in their bedroom, too. She had won almost as many hands as she’d lost. Her plan was working.

  She wiped off her makeup at the master-bathroom mirror.

  “Do you think I’m ready for the poker room?” she called out to the bedroom.

  Chris came up behind her and nuzzled her neck. “Sure, but I think you’re ready for something else, too.”

  MJ tilted her head to one side. After so many years of marriage, she knew step one when it walked up behind her.

  “How about Saturday?” she persisted.

  Chris turned her around so he could press her into the counter; his hands roamed over her hips and waist. MJ could count down to the moment he’d move his right hand to her left breast. Three . . . two . . . one . . . contact.

  “I don’t want to wait until Saturday.”

  “I mean to go play poker.” She shoved his chest a little, but he only pressed in closer. The sequence had commenced; there was no altering its order.

  “Mrs. Boudreaux, are you asking me on a date?” Chris lifted her shirt off.

  Time for step two. MJ grabbed his hands and pulled him into the bedroom.

  “Why, yes I am, Mr. Boudreaux, and I think I’m going to need an answer to that question, ’cause I think I’m getting sleepy.” She turned to face him and—step three—pulled off his shirt.

  “It’s a date,” he murmured as he trailed kisses down her neck: step four.

  The rest of the steps proceeded right on schedule.

  Still naked, MJ nestled against Chris’s bare chest and flicked on the TV. Despite the skin on skin, MJ didn’t feel as close to him as she had anticipated. What was she expecting, literal fireworks? Chris kissed the top of her head and took the remote from her.

  ”Hey! I had dibs.” MJ reached for the remote that Chris held out of her reach.

  “It’s the final table at the Global Poker Finals. I want to see who wins. It should be over soon.”

  MJ scowled at him, then slid out of bed to put her PJs on.

  “You really know how to make a girl feel special.” She glanced at the TV to see a handsome dark-haired man. His strong jaw was covered with well-groomed scruff and he wore dark aviators over expressive eyebrows that rose and fell between hands. Unlike the other player, he wore a plain blue button-down shirt that lacked the advertisements for poker websites. Chips covered the table in front of him in piles and he grinned as he raked in more.

  “Well, hello.” MJ sat on the edge of the bed to watch him stack his chips with nimble fingers.

  “Not so bad, is it?” Chris asked.

  “I wouldn’t kick him out of bed for eating crackers. Who is that?” MJ scooped up her pajamas and got dressed.

  “Doyle Kane. And he’s just about to be the new champ. It’s just him and this kid from eastern Europe.”

  “Why haven’t we been watching more of this?”

  Chris’s shoulders jostled from his quiet chuckle.

  “He’s been unstoppable. He plays unpredictably and no one can figure out his style, but he seems to read everyone. He’s a master bluffer.”

  Doyle flicked a chip across his knuckles, then back again. A smile twitched on his lips.

  “Do you like him or is he an ass?” MJ looked at Chris, still naked on the bed. I need to change the sheets tomorrow. He ran his hands through his hair, ruffling it more.

  “I think he’s awesome. He helps new players, uses his winnings to take care of his parents in Ireland, and always has a different beautiful woman cheering him on from the sideline. Seems like a good guy, you know?”

  “Sold—he’s on the list.”

  Chris raised an eyebrow.

  “Your list is getting longer than Santa’s,” he said.

  “I like to keep my options open. But don’t worry—I’m still your wife.”

  MJ climbed back into bed and snuggled up on her side, leaving a good foot between them. She was suddenly exhausted from trying to resuscitate their marriage. The game had been fun, and then there was the sex. What if mild amusement and the steps were as good as it got twenty years in? The worry wriggled in her stomach. She would see her plan through. She stared at the TV as Doyle Kane won the Global Poker Finals (GPFs). As the camera zoomed in, he took off his glasses to reveal dark lashes, so thick they looked like eyeliner, and crisp blue eyes that crinkled at the corners with his smile. He looked straight into the camera and winked.

  Chapter Four

  Mom!”

  “Hey, don’t shout at me. You just need to ask.” MJ looked at Kate in the passenger seat. She couldn’t get used to seeing her all-grown-up daughter sitting in the front. If she could, she’d stuff her back in a booster seat and feed her Goldfish crackers and raisins. At least Tommy was still relegated to the backseat, where he rolled a baseball across his knuckles. Her stomach clenched at the thought of her and Chris tumbling around their house once the kids left for college. She took a deep breath; there were still a few years before they were both gone.

  Out of the corner of MJ’s eye, Kate looked grumpy.

  “I’ve been saying your name for a minute and you’ve been ignoring me. Are you having a seizure?”

  “No, just sorting out some thoughts.” MJ checked the mirror as she changed lanes. “Now, what did you want so badly you needed to shout?”

  Kate wriggled in her seat and picked at her cuticles. MJ knew she was about to get asked about plans, plans that might be sketchy.

  “Bree is having people over tonight after the game and I want to go. Can I?”

  “Bree? You haven’t hung with Bree in a long time. Are you friends again?” MJ waved to Lisa, who was pulling envelopes out of the coffee shop’s mailbox. MJ would be back there in a few minutes.

  “We never really stopped being friends. She had a boyfriend for a while, so she spent her time with him.”

  “Ahh, boyfriends. They do that. That’s why it’s important to not neglect your friends for a boy. Bree is lucky you aren’t holding that against her.”

  “Can I go
?” Kate was still working her cuticles relentlessly, so MJ reached out and grabbed her hand.

  “You’re going to make them bleed.” After a squeeze, she put her hand back on the wheel. “Are her parents going to be home? Who else is going? What will you be doing? Will you—”

  “Whoa! Relax on the inquisition. Yes, her parents will be home—you can call them. It will be a small group of us girls. We’ll probably go in the hot tub for a while, then order pizza and watch movies.”

  MJ smiled. “You can go, but I will be calling Bree’s mom to double-check, because I know how you love it when I do that.”

  She pulled into the drop-off lane, eyes narrowing at HOT MAMA in front of her. Tammie had gotten out of the car. Again—this time wearing skintight jeans with patterned pockets and a spangled T-shirt, with precise hair and makeup. MJ looked down at her drab, faded black tee and—let’s face it—mom jeans, her skin crawling from having not showered that morning.

  “We’re going straight there after school—then to the game,” Kate said.

  Tammie had approached a group of the moms in the parking lot. They stared at her, heads moving to eye her up from head to toe. MJ could see them close ranks, making it difficult for Tammie to join their circle. Schadenfreude kept her eyes glued to the scene as MJ continued her conversation with Kate.

  “Okay, I’ll text you once I talk to Bree’s mom. Check in with me at the game, and I’ll pick you up at eleven.”

  Kate and Tommy climbed out of the car, but before closing the door, Kate turned to MJ.

  “Can’t it be midnight? Please?” Then Kate flashed the adorable face she had perfected as a five-year-old: pouty lip, tilted head, wide eyes, and batting eyelashes.

  “Fine.” MJ waved her off. She wasn’t in the mood to negotiate. “I’ll be there at midnight.”

  Kate gave a little yip.

  “Love you,” Kate said.

  “Yes, yes, and I’m the best mom ever. Now get in school before the bell rings.”

  Kate closed the door and skipped off, smacking Tommy on the back of his head as she passed him. Tammie still stood on the edge of the circle. It was getting hard to watch, but MJ was trapped behind her behemoth of a vehicle because the drop-off-lane traffic had rerouted itself around their two cars. MJ blasted her car’s horn until Tammie scurried back into her vehicle. Twidiot.

  “I’m going to let Kate start driving, I don’t care if she has her license or not. Harvey won’t bust her, will he?” MJ said. Her mug clinked as she set it down next to a plate of scones and reached for one.

  “Don’t do it,” Lisa said, breaking off a chunk laden with blueberries and popping it into her mouth.

  “I can’t see that woman every day.”

  Lisa raised her eyebrow. “It begins,” she said.

  “What begins?” Ariana asked as she joined them, reaching for a scone.

  “Get ready to meet crazy MJ.” Lisa chuckled to herself. “One time when they were both working the bar, she dumped a pitcher of ice water over Tammie’s head. I still don’t know why you did that.”

  “That’s because I’d been asking her for an hour to bring up some ice from the basement and she kept ignoring me on purpose. She brought the ice up the next time I asked her to do it.” MJ shrugged. “And I was barely an adult back then. I’d hope I can control myself a bit better now.”

  “We’ll see,” Lisa said, waggling her eyebrows.

  “Speaking of seeing.” Ariana nodded to the door.

  The door jingled in the background and MJ gave a low whistle. All three ladies looked up to see the young blond man walk through the door. He noticed them watching and grinned.

  “Ladies.” He nodded his carefree, mussed-but-probably- product-filled head as he walked by. MJ thought he added a little more strut to his swagger. Today he wore a fitted navy blue T-shirt and tight jeans, which made watching him walk away all the more fun.

  “Damn, that is one sweet, sweet ass. We need to find out more about this guy,” said Lisa.

  “Why? He’s not going to be interested in women our age, not to mention—you’re married.” Ariana pulled at a strand of hair.

  MJ watched them volley back and forth while she blew on her hot coffee, still struggling with her decades-old annoyance at Tammie. Even though she claimed to have more control, her actions spoke otherwise. She hadn’t needed to honk the horn quite so long, and her hands practically clenched into claws at the thought of that bouncing blonde head. She was an adult. She needed to act like one.

  “Haven’t you ever seen The Graduate?” Lisa’s voice pulled her back into the conversation. “We are exactly what a guy like that wants. Experienced and horny, but don’t want a commitment.”

  Ariana pursed her lips and tapped her coffee cup.

  Mr. Hunk got his coffee and headed toward the door. MJ prepared to watch him walk away again when Lisa spoke up.

  “Hey, blondy, come here a sec.”

  He stopped and pointed at himself.

  “Yeah, you. Get over here.”

  “Lisa, you can’t say that,” Ariana whispered.

  “Of course she can.” He had reached their table and his full lips expressed his clear pleasure at being there. “Anyone as beautiful as her can make all the demands she wants.” He leaned over the table between Lisa and Ariana.

  “Oh, I like you, darling. Do you have a name?” Lisa asked. Ariana leaned in for a sniff and gave MJ a thumbs-up, making her chuckle.

  “Kyle.”

  “Well, Kyle, what brings you to our neck of the woods? I haven’t seen you before, and I know I would have noticed.”

  “I’m the new counselor at the high school.”

  “Lordy, we are going to need to lock up our daughters with this one around,” Lisa said.

  MJ sat up straighter in her chair. “My daughter, Kate, might be one of your students.”

  Kyle turned to look at her, tilting his head to the left in question.

  “Kate Boudreaux?”

  MJ nodded.

  “Kate’s on my list. She’s really bright.”

  “That’s my Kate.” MJ bit her lip, wanting to ask about college applications. “She says you had a meeting.”

  Kyle frowned. “I hadn’t gotten any school records requests for her. Usually colleges have started requesting transcripts by now. She really needs to start applying or all her preferred choices will be full—even for a great candidate like her.”

  That didn’t make sense. MJ opened her mouth to ask more questions but Lisa cut her off.

  “Now, off you go so we can gossip about you. I’m sure you need to get to school.” She waved her hand to send him on his way.

  “Yep, my free hour is just about done. Have a lovely day, ladies.” Kyle winked, then walked away, the bells signaling his exit.

  “Well, damn,” Lisa said, before noticing MJ’s perplexed frown. “What’s up?”

  “Kate has submitted all her first-choice applications. Something’s not right.”

  “You are not going to interrogate the young, handsome counselor about your daughter,” Ariana said, as her lips parted in a sly smile. “But maybe I will.” She looked at Kyle’s car as he pulled away.

  “It’s weird but don’t worry about it.” Lisa pulled back her hand and wrapped it around her coffee cup. “Now, back to the business at hand. MJ was going to tell us all about last night.”

  MJ looked up from her coffee to see her two dear friends staring at her.

  “It started out great. We laughed a bit, played some poker, but then it descended into the same old, same old.”

  “Ahh, the married-couple routine,” Lisa said. “Touch part A, rub part B, insert part P into part V. Harvey and I can get things done in six and a half minutes. It’s better timed than a Navy SEALs mission.”

  MJ and Ariana stared, mouths agape.

  “Oh, come on—are you telling me that’s not what you meant?” She set her chin in her hands and blinked at the other two.

  Ariana pointed to herself
. “Between hubbies, remember.”

  “Pretty much,” MJ admitted. “But we are going to the casino this weekend.”

  “So, date night?”

  “That’s all I’m asking for. I’m hoping it’s just a matter of time, enough date nights to make some sparks. What about you ladies, any hot plans?”

  “Oh, Harvey is golfing most of the weekend in Kohler. I think I’ll tag along and take advantage of the spa. I might get a good dinner out of it, too,” Lisa answered. “What about you?”

  Ariana rolled her eyes. “Well, the kids have a soccer tournament, so I’ll have to see Jason. We’ll probably grab a bite with the kids after.”

  “I love how you always do things as a family. You aren’t even married to him,” MJ said. “You spend more time together than Chris and I do.”

  “It works. Though I sometimes think he’s just grateful I didn’t take everything he had in the divorce.” She shrugged. “So, are you going to wear sunglasses and a hoodie when you play poker? That’s what I see the players on TV doing.”

  MJ snorted.

  “Not on your life. I think I’d look like a wannabe. No, I was thinking something comfortable. Jeans and a T-shirt. Maybe a sweater if it’s cold.”

  “Oh, honey, that’s not gonna do at all. You want to give those boys something to look at. You need to show the girls.”

  MJ blinked.

  “You know, the girls.” Lisa grabbed her chest and lifted.

  “I’m not sure my girls will get me much mileage with a table full of twentysomethings.”

  “MJ, you are not giving yourself enough credit. Wear something low-cut and sparkly, do your hair, put on some makeup. Those kids will be drooling and you’ll rake in the chips.”

  “I can’t pretend to be something I’m not.”

  “Bull pucky. Just pretend to be me and flirt shamelessly with the cutest boy at the table.”

  MJ sipped her coffee. “I don’t know. What do you think?”

  Ariana pulled a loose thread from her suit’s sleeve.

  “I think it can be good to pretend to be someone else for a while. It makes you appreciate what you have.”