Dead Man's Hand

by Steven Meehan

  “I lucked out in finding him.” I said without thought.

  But Dempsey was already taking another sip of the martini, and when he finished he nodded his agreement. “You know, so did I.” I couldn’t help but laugh and he quickly joined me.

  Somehow I had managed to get him to laugh, which was a good thing, so why did I ever try to threaten that? As I looked down into my drink I felt the question building up. Before I could stop myself I heard the words fly out of my mouth. “If you don’t mind me asking, it’s plain to me that Bella doesn’t care for you all that much, so how did she manage to collect the entrance fee?” When I looked back up I could see those two emotionless eyes were smoldering with something. In an effort to calm him I immediately clarified my question. “Your reputation doesn’t… you’re not exactly known to give breaks even to family.”

  Dempsey must have known what I was trying to get at, at least the smoldering in his eyes began to dim ever so slightly. “My little niece has become quite the skilled gambler. And as you said, she is a very smart woman. She takes advantage of all of her resources, and that includes her looks. Now don’t get me wrong she isn’t a vain woman and she isn’t fully aware of the affect she has on others. Even so, she somehow manages to take complete advantage of it.” Lifting his glass off the table Dempsey looked it over before continuing, “She won my tournament last year, which is how she was able to be here today. But as far as how she earned the entrance fee for last year’s tournament…” Shrugging his eyes softened a little more as he took another sip of the martini in his hand. “I don’t know how she managed to earn that fee. Though she did have to learn those card skills somewhere.”

  Looking briefly around the room he caught sight of Bella standing at the bar with two glasses and a tapping foot. “Well I’m afraid I need to leave before Bella lumps you in with me and if that happens, she’ll never come back. Best of luck to you Marcus.” Dempsey offered me his hand and I took it and held it as firmly as I could, only to be surprised at how hard the other man’s grip was. When the handshake was finished he silently stood up and retreated back into the crowd.

  Chapter 6

  Moments after Dempsey was absorbed back into the crowd a slightly annoyed Bella arrived with both of our drinks. “You two seemed awfully chummy.” She said as she placed my new glass next to my empty one as she sat back down in her chair. She fixed me with an inquisitive stare and allowed a slight silence to build before asking, “What were you two talking about?”

  The irony of the question forced a fit of laughter out of my throat, which of course only aggravated her more, it was a very vicious cycle. I was barely able to keep her seated and calm with a placating hand gesture. She was awfully skittish about her uncle. True he never outright told me that I had his blessing, but that was what he had implied, at least I thought that was what he implied. But that would probably not go over so well. “Honestly he was shocked that I managed to keep you in one spot for so long.”

  “What?!” she exclaimed. At first I thought there was curiosity in her voice, but then I caught sight of her eyes. What was that look in her eyes, it looked like equal parts curiosity and anger, or could that be indignation? Either way it really didn’t matter. Nope, all that mattered was she didn’t like her uncle, though apparently not strongly enough to keep her away from his tournament.

  With a shrug of my shoulders and the strongest voice I could muster I explained. “Apparently you’re a little bit of a wallflower.” And as soon as she heard the words she clamped her mouth shut and her cheeks colored ever so slightly, but with her fair complexion she may as well have been beet red. “So I guess that’s a pretty fair way to describe your behavior.” I paused for a moment before I hastily added, “Don’t shoot the messenger though, those were your uncle’s words, not mine.”

  I quickly found out that she had mastered the same look of intimidation that her uncle had patented. For a brief moment I idly wondered if she had to pay him a royalty for using that look. But before I could make a joke of it she spoke to me in that same stern and measured whisper. “Do not mention that relation to me, ever again.” She kept those fearsome eyes upon me and without changing her fearsome tone she went on. “Do you understand?!”

  I simply swallowed. This apparently sweet and gentle woman just flipped a switch and had become a clone of her uncle. She had definitely inherited the family’s intimidating streak. It took me a moment to work some saliva back into my mouth. Strangely enough, her use of that streak was simply more terrifying than her uncle’s. I mean you expected it with Dempsey, but I never would have thought Bella could pull it off. When I was finally able to muster any kind of response it was a simple one. “Sure no problem Bella. But…”

  “I just cannot stand the man,”

  “But he’s your…but he is what he is.”

  With a heavy sigh she acknowledged the relation. “Yes, he is and that is why I wish he would simply leave me alone.”

  There are always going to be people you will never understand, and even when you get a handle on them they will always say something that makes no sense. It is one of the truths of the world. I could tell it was going to be a bad idea but I just had to know, so I took a deep breath and asked the question. “You might, berate me for asking this but I’m going to risk it. If you can’t stand him…”

  “Why do I come to his tournament?” Bella finished for me.

  “You would be able to accomplish your goal of avoiding him, with greater success that way.”

  Slumping down in her chair Bella sighed as she answered. “I don’t like my uncle or father, I won’t deny that. But they’re also my only family and you…”

  “Can’t choose your family.” I finished the cliché for her, I could tell she was tired of using that one to explain herself.

  “No, you can’t.” She agreed solemnly.

  “But that’s not the real reason you tolerate them, is it?” Bella simply sat there like a statue. She was so unwilling to say anything positive about her uncle that she couldn’t explain herself anymore, so I offered my guess. “He’s overprotective of you, that’s why you choose to deal with them at all, isn’t it?”

  It was small but I was able to see the slight squirm and just like that I knew that I was on the right track. But it was equally obvious that she was extremely uncomfortable with the whole topic. A point she quickly confirmed. “Yes both he and my father are overly protective of me.” She lifted her glass to her mouth and swallowed the entire martini, like it would sooth her throat. “Their attention does make me feel special, but it comes at a terrible price.”

  After a few moments of careful thought I spoke up, “Bella you could have that feeling anytime you want. All you have to do is just go out on few dates. I can’t think of any reason why a man wouldn’t lavish his attention on you. Even if he were blind, once you started speaking, well it would be enough.”

  Now I expected some kind of reaction out of her, but shock was not on the short list until I remembered Dempsey’s words. She isn’t fully aware of the affect she has on others. Was her uncle right about her after all? No! How could she not know how men looked at her? Or could that attitude just be a mask that she has created for herself? But how could Dempsey be so blind that he actually would fall for that kind of mask? And what would possibly motivate her to create that kind of persona? Wait a second, was it possible that she believed it was her relationship to Dempsey that affected the people in her life and not her looks?

  The shocked look in her eyes told me nothing one way or the other. But a moment later she tried to shake off my comment with a scoffing laugh. “No, you’re generous but men don’t show me any genuine kindness based on my merits. The only reason people are nice to me is because of my family, well my father or my uncle to be precise.” As the words fled from her mouth a single tear streamed down her check.

  And that was when her attitude clicked. She knew how she looked, but she was so blinded by her family that she just couldn’t trust
it. And honestly, I couldn’t blame her for that, an uncle like hers might make me just as blind. With a slight sigh that I hoped she didn’t catch, I tried to rebut her train of thought. “Bella, has my attitude towards you changed since I found out who your uncle is?” She brought her eyes back up to mine and we sat in silence for a while, just studying each other.

  Her face went from the depths of apparent sadness to the murky heights of confusion so fast that had I blinked I would have missed the transition. “Are you telling me you seriously didn’t know about that relation prior to him telling you?”

  She really was blinded by her uncle. No wonder she was described as a wallflower, she had no way of knowing who was genuinely friendly and who might be trying to use her. “Yes I am, but that’s not all I’m trying to tell you. I’m telling you that who your uncle is simply doesn’t matter to me. You’re a good person and I have honestly enjoyed talking with you. Whatever he’s done, and by the stories I’ve heard it’s a lot, it doesn’t need to define you. Your words and actions do that. So how do you want to be defined?”

  She responded at my attempt to cheer her up with a smile, “I like that, though you sound a bit like a fortune cookie.

  “The words may sound a bit cliché, but they still hold true. We are not the sum of our parents. Whatever they did, they did. It’s their past. Now we can certainly learn from them, and it’s usually a good idea, but those actions ultimately hold no sway over our lives.”

  She thought about it for all of two seconds, and I thought she seemed to be intrigued by what I was saying. But I could tell the intrigue held little sway over her as soon as that slight glimmer in her eye disappeared. “Unfortunately your argument might hold more sway if those two weren’t still around trying to walk in my footsteps.”

  “You could outrace them, you know. They don’t have to influence your life.”

  As she offered me one of her warmer smiles she scooted her chair closer to mine and voiced what was going through her mind. “You’re a good one. A little bit naive but a good one.” Once her chair was next to mine she laid her head on my shoulder and whispered the remainder of her thought. “There is no running from this family, you can only survive and, with any luck, find someone good enough to stand with you, even if only for a short time.”

  Pleasantly surprised by both her words and her head laying on my shoulder I took a chance and draped my arm around her and gave her a comforting squeeze. “You mentioned that you have to pay a price, when you take their affection.” I felt her soundless reply, and knowing this was a sensitive topic I whispered my question into her ear. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s the price?”

  She kept her head on my shoulder as she softly answered. “For that fleeting moment of happiness, I come out feeling dirty. I’m sure I would feel the same way if I swam through a sewage drain. And the saddest part is that those moments of happiness grow shorter each time, and it won’t be long before what is supposed to be a moment of happiness will be nothing instead.”

  “It can’t be as bad as that.”

  Without moving her head she replied in the same soft voice, “Yes it can.”

  With another gentle squeeze I asked one more question. “If you can’t stand you uncle or your father for that matter, why do you even come?”

  “The money’s good.” She answered immediately with an ample amount of forced cheer. It looked as if that would be all she would say, but after a few moments she pressed on. “But that’s not all of it.” I had known that money would not be the real answer, hopefully she was willing to share it with me after all. “I know my uncle has some of his own men playing in this thing. It’s never more than a few but the ones who play, they’re decent players. Someone has to keep my uncle from a bigger payday, and if I can do it, then I will.”

  I was impressed with her attitude. Here she was, terrified, well that may be a little strong. She had no love for her own flesh and blood, and in fact she was acting against them. I idly wondered what Dempsey would do if he ever realized what his niece’s intentions were. She was a good person even if she couldn’t or wouldn’t see past her family to believe it herself. But something had changed in her demeanor, the forced joviality had vanished to be replaced by an emotionless voice that once again reminded me of her uncle. “I’ll fight tooth and nail to reach the final table so I can deny them as much money as I can.”

  With a grin, she looked up at me and spoke in a voice that was slowly taking on its natural tone. “I made it there last year and so help me, I’ll do it again.”

  Meeting her eyes, I was intrigued by her desire to just reach the final table. “What’s the big deal about reaching the final table?”

  She was obviously getting very comfortable with me because she simply answered the question, “As long as you reach the final table, at minimum, you get your entrance fee back.” She must have seen my confusion because she eagerly enlightened me. “This is not a winner take all tournament, Marcus. Everyone who reaches the final table will take money home. And while tenth place will only return your entrance fee, the money grows from there.” My surprise was clearly evident as she sighed and asked, with the slightest tinge of laughter ringing in her voice, “You thought this was a winner take all tournament, didn’t you.”

  “Well not really, I knew that Dempsey took a portion of the entrance…” And then I caught sight of her eyes and I knew I started to say something incredibly stupid. I wanted to grumble but I swallowed the random thoughts and answered her question. “Yes, I thought this was a winner take all tournament, less Dempsey’s hefty share.”

  She smiled in satisfaction at successfully reading me, she was very good at reading people, or was it just me? I shook that thought from my mind and noticed that she had been unable to keep herself from laughing. But, once she saw me notice she tried to appease my bruised ego. “That was how my uncle originally ran these tournaments.”

  “It was? Then what changed?” I asked when she paused to take a breath.

  “When the professionals found out they didn’t come back the next year. As I’m sure you can imagine they wanted to walk out with something as long as they placed high enough. As my uncle quickly found out, he needed the pros more than they needed his tournament, so he eventually relented a bit. It took a couple of years to reclaim the pros who had fled but, in time, they caught wind of the change and returned.”

  “I take it your father is very tight with your uncle.” Fortunately, I was watching her so I saw the slight nod that she offered in return. And since she was speaking about her uncle I decided it would be safe to ask about her father. “So I know what your uncle does here. Couple that with the fact that you painted him with your uncle, I’m just a little curious, what does your father do for your uncle at this tournament?”

  With a warm, though rather unsettling smile she said, “Well they both meet everyone who comes to the tournament, only my father does it at the front door. Good old pops, he and his underlings pat down everyone who comes in here. Well, almost everyone I guess that’s another small benefit of being family here, I’m trusted by them.”

  With a shocked face I stammered, “Your… father is…”

  She tried to hide a laugh behind her hands but did a perfectly horrendous job of it. When she was quite finished, I wasn’t able to get out any kind of coherent thought, so she went on, “Yes, Marcus I was looking for you after watching your little performance at the door.” As she spoke I watched a smile break out on her face, which threw me even more off balance. “And I’m quite sure good old pops told my uncle about you as well. Oh you should have seen my father’s face when my uncle shook your hand and left you intact. I’m certain he would have preferred seeing you trussed up and roasting on a spit.” I had thought I had seen her biggest smile earlier but somehow it was still widening, despite the constraints of her face.

  I think it was my laughter that caught her off guard, and if I am going to be completely honest it caught me off guard a little as well. But
she went absolutely red in the face. Before she could say anything I tried to explain my laughter as best as I could.

  “Here you thought I was trying to curry favor from you, because you thought I knew about your father and uncle, like everyone else probably does. But I honestly had no clue. And to top it off, all this time you were using the anger I brewed with your father to make him and your uncle uncomfortable.” She didn’t offer a different explanation so I just sat there dumbly staring at her. She was very good, I had never even suspected that she could have had an ulterior motive for choosing to sit down with me.

  When I looked back at her face, I could tell that the red was slowly dissipating, which was too bad in a way, that blush suited her. But I could tell that she was trying hard not to join in my laughter. “You have to admit, this is absolutely hilarious. Well I can definitely say that you’re one of the deepest people I know.”

  Eyeing me with the same type of measuring stare that her uncle had used on me earlier she eventually replied. “Thank you, I think.” She watched me nod before she laid her head back on my shoulder and continued. “That’s the closest anyone has ever come to offering me a genuine compliment in quite some time.”

  Her head felt right laying on my shoulder like that, so I let my voice flow naturally as I thought very carefully about what I was about to say. “I might be able to offer you more.”

  “Is that so?” She asked in an almost musical tone.

  I tilted my head just enough to see her face. “Or rather I might be able to offer you more after the tournament is over.”

  There was no turning back now. Feeling more than a bit nervous and hoping, not mention mentally crossing my fingers that I had not been completely imagining things, I asked, “Would you like to have a meal with me after the tournament? My treat of course.”

  “Marcus, are you asking me out on a date?” Her voice was thick with the playful teasing that let me know she was pleasantly surprised.