Page 15

Mike

A fter dropping her off at home, I need to blow off some steam. I text Jordan to let him know I will be free for the rest of the night and he invites me to meet him at the poker game. By the time I get to Rodriguez’s place, the guys are a few hands in. The air is thick with the smoke from the cigars Jordan and Smithy have sticking out of their mouths. Lincoln is sitting at the table, too, nursing an IPA with one hand and holding his cards close to his chest with the other. My eyes start to water from the smoke, and I clear my throat to cover the cough that wants to escape. There are a few empty bottles on the table and Rodriguez stands with outstretched arms and rakes the chips toward himself.

“That’s what I’m talking about. This pot is mine.”

As he sorts and stacks the chips into towers, he glances up, noticing me. “Oh, hey, Miller. Grab a beer. Smithy said he has to bounce in a few minutes, you can take his chair when he leaves.” He tips his head toward Smithy and deals the next hand.

I nod my thanks and make my way to the kitchen, but take a water bottle from the fridge instead.

Confession is the fifth step in recovery. I’m no stranger to it, but telling Danielle as much as I did tonight was rough for me. It’s easier to talk about the things I’ve done in meetings. It’s always much harder when you are looking into the face of someone you care about. She needed to know, I don’t regret it. It went better than I expected, but I could do without all the old guilt about things I can’t change that’s now festering under my skin. There have been a lot of ups and downs today. I’m not used to feeling this many highs and lows off the field.

“The Rookie is my D.D.” Jordan says, giving me a knowing look when I walk back to the table without the beer I’ve been offered, but the others only respond with grunts. They are too focused on the cards in front of them to care what I’m drinking. One nice thing about getting older and no longer being in the college party scene is that people rarely notice my efforts to stay sober, and even if they do, often they assume it’s a choice I’m making to stay in shape or focus on my game during the season. Which, in a way, I guess it is.

I lean against the wall and watch the next hand.

Hearing Jordan say “D.D.” reminds me of Danielle. The designated driver abbreviation is the same as her initials, and the fact that I realize this means I’m already thinking about her more than I should. She is constantly in my head, and it’s only going to get worse now that I know what it feels like to touch her. I hadn’t planned on asking her to be my girlfriend tonight, the words just popped out of my mouth like I had no control. My feelings for her are getting intense too quickly. Keeping myself in check is how I survived the past three years, and I know it’s what I need to continue to do in order to make it in the pros.

But that’s a problem for tomorrow. Danielle is safe at her house, and the rest of tonight is for having some much-needed fun with these guys.

My roommate folds his cards after the second round and turns his attention to me. “Wasn’t expecting to see you until the morning. What happened? Your girl get spooked by all the tiny purple horses?” he ribs me.

“Nah. Women love that shit. Three sisters, remember?” I point to my chest, not taking the bait. “Danielle just had a long day so we decided to call it early.”

“Fair enough.”

Everything else that happened tonight can stay private. All of that is between me and her.

“Dude. You’re still seeing that waitress from the crab feast?” Smithy asks, pushing a few more chips into the pot. “She was hot.”

“Yeah, she is,” Lincoln agrees with a smirk, rearranging the cards in his hand.

Smithy uses his hands to mime cupping half-circles in the air.

“Watch it,” I warn.

“Oh, someone’s feeling protective. This must be getting serious.” Jordan talks around his cigar. My truck is going to smell like smoke for days after I drive his dumb ass home. It makes me miss Danielle and the way I could still smell vanilla in the cab of the truck after I drove her home that first night. The vanilla is definitely preferable.

“Actually, we just made it official tonight.”

“No shit?” Smithy raises his bottle in the air for a toast. “Then to Miller and the waitress.”

“Danielle.” I correct him.

“That’s what I said. To Miller and Danielle the waitress.”

“I am taking full credit for this. You never would have even started talking to her if it hadn’t been for me,” Jordan says.

The guys raise their bottles and clink them together before they each take a swig. I roll my eyes and do the same with the plastic bottle in my hand.

A few minutes later, Smithy stands up and looks at his phone. “My ride is here. Miller, take over for me. Try to do my chair the justice she deserves.”

When he heads toward the door, I put my hand on my heart and answer with mock earnestness, “I will do my very best.”

“Hold up.” Rodriguez takes out his phone. “Don’t leave yet. Let’s take a picture real quick.”

Smithy comes back to the table and everyone stands and crowds together while Rodriguez extends his arm for a selfie.

“Got it.”

“Okay, I’m leaving for real now.”

“Later, Smithy.”

I take a twenty from my wallet and hand it to Rodriguez to buy in to the game, and he counts out some new chips for me in return.

Three hands later, I’m up five bucks. Jordan glances at the clock on the wall and I follow his gaze to have a look for myself.

“Is it really only eight-fifteen?” It feels like it should be later. I managed to cram a lot into the afternoon. “I think I’m done for tonight.”

“Yeah,” Jordan says. “I’ll come with you. Do you think we could run out to the pharmacy first? They don’t close until nine and I got a notification that my prescription is ready. I was hoping to grab it tonight.”

The elbow seems to be healing little by little, but I can tell from the way Jordan has been favoring it for the past few days that he’s still in a lot of pain.

“Um, yeah, I guess. It’s not too far out of the way.” I can stay in the car, away from the triggers.

“Cool. Then this will be our last hand,” Jordan tells the rest of the guys around the table.

My cards are trash and I fold immediately, but at least I ended on a high note, which is more than Jordan can say. He lost his buy-in and then some.

“Rough luck, man,” I tell him as we head out the door. He doesn’t seem to care. Jordan is always in a good mood, even on nights like this when he loses a hundred and fifty bucks to the other rookie.

When we pull up to the pharmacy, I wait while Jordan runs inside. No reason to put myself in the path of temptation. Instead, I pull out my phone and send Danielle a gif of two cartoon crabs dancing and I write Look, it could have been us at the gala last weekend . It only takes a few seconds before she replies with next time and a smiley face. I’m still grinning when Jordan comes out of the store and jogs back to my truck. As he slides into the seat next to me, he puts the small white paper bag between us.

“Dude. Are you starving? Because I am. And do you know what I just remembered? We’re already halfway to Marnock. You know what is open late and is only like fifteen more minutes from here?”

“Of course I’m starving. Rodriguez had no food at his place, unless you count a stale bag of tortilla chips.” I know what Jordan’s thinking, and the rumbling in my stomach agrees with him, so I answer at exactly the same time that he says, “Taco Terrace.”

When we get there, I’m out of the truck before Jordan is even finished unbuckling his seatbelt. I walk in first and order a party pack that includes a dozen tacos, and Jordan takes forever to join me.

“You get lost between here and the parking lot?” I ask when he finally comes inside.

“Aw. You missed me.” He makes kissy faces in the air.

I roll my eyes. He was probably stalling so I would pay for our food. It worked, but I don’t even care because I’m hungry. We sit down at a booth and crush the entire party pack before we head home to crash. We need to be up for an early practice in the morning.