Seer

by Robin Roseau

  “She’s just grateful for being here,” I said. “I hope all of you will help her fit in. She could use some friends.”

  “I like her,” Mike said.

  “You like everyone,” Patty said. She reached over and patted his hand. “That’s part of why we love you.”

  “Not everyone,” Mike said. “I hated Dean the first time we met. But then Sidney whispered to me he’d been hurt growing up, and I realized he acts out as a defensive measure. He expects people to treat him like shit, so he gives them an excuse so he doesn’t have to take it personally. I took him in stride, and now he thinks I walk on water. Which I do, so it’s good he sees it.”

  We laughed. Mike was one of the good ones.

  We chatted for a while. Eventually the cleaning crew came out carrying the coffee thermos, cups, saucers, and both of my coffee creamers, presumably filled with the cream from the refrigerator. “I hope you don’t mind,” Dolores said.

  I smiled. “Not at all. We can move to the living room though.” I gestured, and everyone trooped out. The tables were already set up, and there was a side table for the coffee supplies. I also had a printed schedule of partnerships on the tables. It was set for far more games than we would play. Patty grabbed one of the schedules and skimmed it, then announced, “Table One: Sidney and Dolores are playing against Elsa and Frank. Table Two: Mike and I against Gabby and Dean.”

  There was the usual moving around. People collected coffee, poured more wine, or grabbed the other beverages they wanted before taking their seats. Dolores and I both had coffee and sat down facing each other. I grabbed the waiting deck of cards and began shuffling. I gave it five good shuffles then spread the cards out in a row on the table.

  “High card deals,” I said. “On a tie, the two who tied draw again until one wins.”

  “Are there rules how the cards go out?” Dolores asked. Five hundred was the only game I ever played where you don’t deal the cards one at a time.

  “As long as everyone gets ten cards, with five in the middle, we don’t much care,” Frank said. “Just be careful not to show the bottom card. I deal three-two-three-two. Some of us deal three-four-three.”

  I grabbed a card from the pile on the table. Soon everyone had one, and we exposed our cards. Frank, sitting to my left, had the high card, a king, and so he collected all the cards and began to deal.

  I looked across the table. “Frank and Elsa are very good, although they tend to bid conservatively.”

  “That sounds like table talk,” Elsa complained.

  “I believe I can say anything I want before looking at the cards Frank hasn’t even dealt yet,” I said with a smile.

  She shrugged and smiled briefly. Then she turned to Dolores. “Your partner is also a good player, but she bids aggressively.”

  I laughed. That was probably a fair statement.

  “And the next table?” Dolores asked.

  “Everyone here is a good player,” Frank said. “One might believe Dean would be reckless, but he’s not. My wife is perhaps the oddest player. She makes unexpected choices.”

  “Does anyone win or lose more than his or her share?”

  “We all win,” Elsa said. “We all lose.” She looked at me. “What does your spreadsheet say?”

  “Who said I had a spreadsheet?” I asked.

  “Do you deny it?”

  “Yes. There is no spreadsheet.”

  She studied me carefully, and I said in a smaller voice. “I wrote a program.”

  Elsa turned to Dolores. “You need to be careful with this one. She can be very…” She paused. “In German, we say wörtlich. It means to take the words very exactly.”

  “Literal,” Dolores said.

  “Ah, yes. Our Sidney can be very literal when it best suits her.” She turned to me. “So, your program that is not a spreadsheet, what does it tell you?”

  “It tells me that we all win and we all lose,” I said. “It tells me that some of us win somewhat more than half our games and some of us lose somewhat more than half our games. No one wins more than sixty percent or less than forty.”

  On average, if we were all equal players, then we would all win about half the time. There wasn’t much you could do against bad cards, but when averaged out over time, the fickle nature of a shuffle should average out. I tended to win more than my share; Patty tended to lose more than her share, but not so egregiously that she dominated the booby prize. I had done more analysis on the data, and who Patty partnered with made a great deal of difference.

  “You are not going to offer details?” Elsa asked.

  “Yes. The program says you and Dean are poor partners.”

  By now, the other table had dealt, and I heard them bidding. Frank glanced over, shuffled the cards several times, offered them for a cut, then began to deal.

  “We always cut,” I told Dolores. “Some people like to tap the top of the deck, but chances are good everyone has seen the bottom card.”

  She nodded. “I hate that, actually, when people don’t cut, or they don’t offer the cut.” She smiled. “Serious players.”

  “Not sharks, but yes.”

  Frank finished dealing. Dolores assembled her cards in a pile in front of her, but she placed her hands over them. “I have not seen my cards, so I believe I can say this.” She looked across the table to me. “I play to win.”

  “We all play to win,” Elsa said.

  But that wasn’t the message Dolores was telling me. She was telling me she bids to win, which also means sometimes overbidding defensively. I nodded. I hadn’t looked at my cards yet, either. “I do too.”

  Message sent. Message received.

  We picked up our cards. I had a good hand, but I was glad Dolores would be bidding first. She assembled her cards, looked at them briefly then set them all down in a careful pile in front of herself. She waited until I was looking at her, and she said clearly, “Seven clubs.”

  “Seven diamonds,” Elsa said after a pause.

  I looked at my hand. I was holding the joker — the high card in five hundred — and the jack of spades. In a club trump hand, the jack of spades was the third highest card. Yes, it’s a confusing game. I had a couple of more clubs and two off-suit king-queen combinations. It was a push, but I said, “Eight clubs,” and turned to Frank.

  Frank had already folded his hand onto the table, and I knew his bid before he said it. “Pass.” He slid the five cards from the middle towards me. I picked them up and found the jack of clubs waiting for me. I tried not to react, but I slipped it into place between the joker and jack of spades. What had Dolores bid on if I had the top three trump? She must have a mess of them, but there was no guarantee she had the ace, and that would be her best possible card.

  I discarded five cards, face down so no one could see them and immediately led the joker. Everyone followed suit, although Elsa tossed out the queen. I studied her for a moment and wondered if she were out. I led the jack of clubs. Elsa was out of trump and tossed out one of her diamonds. Frank played the king.

  I studied Dolores. She gazed dispassionately at me. I mentally counted. I’d had four, then five with the jack. Elsa and Frank had played three so far. That was eight out of thirteen. I smiled. I was sure Dolores had the other five. Frank was out of trump.

  I looked at my other choices. I tossed out the seven of hearts, hoping to make my king-queen good. Frank played the jack. Dolores smiled before turning over the card she already had waiting: a low club.

  “Ach,” Elsa said. “Naturally void in a suit.” She added a small heart to the pile, and I collected the four cards, arranging them so we could clearly see we had taken three tricks so far.

  Dolores played her ace of diamonds and ace of spades then led a low diamond. I trumped it and led another heart. Dolores trumped it and led another diamond. I trumped and led my queen of hearts. Frank tossed his ace on top of it, and Dolores trumped it. She studied me carefully, then she looked away and I realized she was counting cards. We h
ad won six tricks. I had two trump left, and she had one. My king of hearts was high, but I still had the ten of spades. We had the hand, but I wanted all ten.

  Dolores led another diamond. I trumped it and Frank threw out a spade. I was pretty sure Dolores had the last trump.

  I played my king of hearts and hoped she remembered it was good. She threw out a spade. I played my crappy spade, and Dolores smiled, trumping it. She led her last diamond, and I trumped it with the jack of spades.

  “Well played,” she said to me immediately.

  Elsa muttered something in German. I thought it was something about luck, but I wasn’t sure. Dolores laughed anyway. Elsa turned to her and spoke in English. “It is more fun when someone understands me. Tell me, do you know the swear words?”

  “A few,” Dolores said. “Perhaps you’ll teach me a few that are new to me.”

  Between the two games, we played a total of seven hands. Dolores and I won both games fairly easily, and we completely clicked when we played. We finished before table two, but when we asked, they said, “This is probably our last hand,” so I used the time to take a bathroom break.

  When I exited the bathroom, Dolores was in the hallway outside the door. “All yours,” I said.

  “That’s not why I’m here,” she said. There were tears in her eyes.

  “Oh Dolores,” I said.

  “No,” she said. “I wanted to thank you. I haven’t had a night like this in years.” She stepped forward, and we hugged, standing there in the hall. “Thank you,” Dolores whispered into my ear. “I like your friends.”

  “Even Dean?”

  “He’s harmless.”

  “Not really,” I replied. “He’s a one-man emotional wrecking crew.”

  We separated, and she wiped the tears from her eyes. “Don’t worry about this,” she said. “I’ve been emotional about everything since I found out about Asshole’s affair. I watch Youtube videos of cats and I cry. How sad is that?” She smiled. “Speaking of which, you said you had cats, but I haven’t seen them. Are they outside?”

  “They’re shy. They might make an appearance if people settle down.” I took her arm and led the way back to the card table.

  As soon as we arrived, Dean began chanting, “Tira-misu. Tira-misu.” He got about half my guests to join in with him. Dolores and I began laughing, and I held my hands up.

  “You’ll have to ask Dolores,” I said. “She may not wish to share with you guys.”

  “Can Straight Girl cook?” Gabby asked.

  Dolores turned to her, cocking her head. “Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “What’s going on?” Gabby asked her.

  “Everyone knows how you turn gay,” Dolores said. “There are germs, and I bet Sidney cooked them into the soup. I saw Sidney pouring something. She said it was curry, but I bet it was dried gay germs.”

  Gabby and Elsa’s eyes both narrowed at her, but Dolores ignored them and went on.

  “But I’m not afraid.”

  “You aren’t, hmm?” Gabby asked, tight lipped.

  “No. I put straight juice into the tiramisu. Are you sure you all want some?”

  The room broke out into stunned silence that lasted about five seconds. Dolores had made a risky joke. American society has such ignorant views of homosexuality, and satire can be dangerous, anyway. But her delivery was perfect, and it all came down to how it was received. If I laughed, acknowledging the joke, it would be seen as me protecting her. And so it hung out there on the air, waiting for a response.

  Dean stepped forward and said, “Sid, I like her!” and then high-fived Dolores. He looked at her. “Honey, there’s not enough straight juice in the country to flip me. Bring out the tiramisu!” He paused. “But don’t let Mike or Sid have any. Those two get along far too well, and I know what would happen if they both went straight. No, I think I better eat Mikes’ share, and Sid’s, too.”

  That generated laughter. Dolores announced, “I’ll get the tiramisu if someone else can get plates.”

  Gabby waited until Dolores disappeared before telling me, “She’s all right, Sidney. For a straight girl.”

  The tiramisu was amazing, and soon there were moans of pleasure from more than one satisfied diner. Dolores received ample thanks and offers to take the leftovers home.

  “What leftovers?” Dean said. Then he turned to Mike. “I’ll be at the gym for the next week, but it’s worth it.”

  For the second round, I moved Dolores and I both to table two. I partnered with Patty and Dolores with Gabby. We split the two games then had time for a third. Dolores and Gabby set Patty and I three hands in a row, and we went out the bottom. I was happy we only counted the first two.

  We had time for four rounds, which was uncommon. But it grew late, and so I declared, “That was the last round.”

  I’d been collecting the score sheets from each round. It took just a minute to total everyone’s individual win-loss record. I did okay, but I was very pleased to see Dolores won the best prize. Elsa had a bad night and would be subjected to the booby prize. I didn’t let anyone see the results until after I passed out the prizes, and so I headed upstairs to my closet of waiting gifts.

  I searched through to see what I wanted. I wasn’t sure what to give Dolores, so I picked one of the generic gifts for her, a restaurant gift card. Then I eyed the booby prizes, digging through them for a minute before I found the one I wanted.

  Elsa was going to hate it.

  When I got back downstairs, I saw the last of the tiramisu was disappearing. I eyed a plate longingly; I had hoped Dolores would leave a piece or two. She caught me eyeing it and smiled. “There’s already a piece waiting in your fridge for you.”

  “Oh, you’re a darling,” I said. I raised my voice. “All right, with a score of six and two, Dolores is our grand prize winner tonight. Congratulations.” I handed her the envelope.

  “Do I open it?”

  “Yes.”

  She did, looked at it, and then smiled. “Will you help me use it next week?”

  “I’m out of town next week, but we can get together the following week. I don’t know when yet. I took that client’s work, and it’s going to be a lot over the next two months or so.”

  She nodded. “We could make it a working lunch.”

  “Absolutely not. That is recreation not work.”

  I turned to Elsa. “Elsa had a bad night, only winning one game, and so I have a carefully selected booby prize for you, Elsa. You may open this in the next room and then return, wearing it.”

  She sighed, but she had to know she’d lost tonight. She accepted the gift and disappeared in the direction of my bedroom.

  “What is it?” Dean asked. He always asked. I didn’t even bother to respond to him. I never answered.

  However, I wasn’t surprised when cell phones came out. Everyone prepared their camera app, and I knew there would be Facebook posts by the morning.

  That was when we all heard, in very loud, very clear German, “Scheiße!”

  There was a pause, and then Dolores said, “I already knew that one.” Dean high-fived her again.

  Elsa didn’t make an immediate appearance. I wondered how upset she was. Finally Gabby stepped out into the hallway. “Come on, Elsa. Let us see.”

  “No photographs!” came her voice.

  “Of course not,” Gabby said in a singsong voice. “We promise.” She poked her head back in. “Lots of pictures,” she whispered. “Lots.” She looked at me. “It’s a good one, isn’t it?”

  “I may have gone too far. You would have laughed.”

  “Ooh, even better,” Gabby said.

  I heard Elsa’s voice from somewhat closer. “Gabby, get back in there. You do not get to see any sooner than anyone else.”

  “Of course, my love,” Gabby said sweetly. She rejoined us in the living room. “Hide your phones,” she muttered to us. “She’s going to peek at us, I just know it.”

  And sure enough, Elsa�
��s head appeared around the corner a few moments later. We couldn’t see the rest of her, just her head. She eyed us all carefully, but everyone had hid her phone. She took a deep breath and stepped fully into the room.

  She was wearing a tight, cropped tee shirt. She had changed into it properly, taking off her other shirt, which actually showed she was being cool about it. It was green, and across the chest it said, “Kiss Me! I’m Irish!”

  There was a pause, and then nearly everyone began laughing. Elsa immediately colored, but she stood there and let us look. And then the phones came out, and she shrieked, but she didn’t run as everyone began taking pictures.

  Gabby waited a moment then stalked closer to her girlfriend. “Irish, hmm?” She pulled Elsa into her arms and gave her what looked like a soul-wrenching kiss. Elsa didn’t care for PDA, and so she looked even more flustered when the kiss was over. A few phones caught the kiss.

  Gabby stepped back. “Well,” she said. “You all see the shirt. Don’t you people follow directions?”

  “Gabriella!” Elsa protested.

  It was Dean who stepped forward first. He grabbed Elsa by the arms and pulled her close, but then he paused. Dean was, deep down, a good guy, and he wouldn’t actually kiss an unwilling woman. And so it was Elsa who put a hand on the back of his neck and accepted the kiss.

  After that, Elsa got passed around. She blushed the entire time, but she got kissed by all her friends, although Frank and Patty’s kisses were upon her cheek, and then Patty’s kiss included a hug.

  I got her second to last. I exchanged a brief, very chaste kiss with her, but Gabby scoffed. “What the hell was that, Sid?”

  Again, it was Elsa who took charge. She pulled me into a better kiss, and she was a really, really good kisser. I’d never kissed her before, and it was a little weird at the same time. Then Elsa stepped away and turned to Dolores.

  “Well, Straight Girl,” said Gabby. “What are you going to do?”

  “Leave her alone, Gabriella,” Elsa said. She only called Gabby by her full name when she was exceedingly serious, and so Gabby shut up.

  “I don’t think Elsa wants to kiss me,” Dolores said. But Elsa stepped up to her, pulled her into a hug, and whispered something into her ear. Elsa wasn’t a hugger any more than she was into PDA.