I wracked my brain, but I couldn’t think of anything to say that would distract him. Wiping my eyes, I glanced toward the bedroom where Mrs. Phillips was resting, and then back at the sink. I couldn’t count on any help from her. Even if I screamed for help, she’d probably just stuff her head under a pillow, and tomorrow, she’d be in here making breakfast with her big smile and her sad eyes, pretending nothing had happened.
He sat down, pulled the cards out of the box, and started shuffling them. “It sure would be a shame if it got to be too much for us to have you both here. When they asked us if we’d take you and your brother, the state made it clear they couldn’t find anyone else who would take in two kids. Most people are only willing to take one. And, ya know, I can’t blame them. It’s a lot to open your home to strangers, kids or not.” He kept shuffling, but his eyes lifted to meet mine. “I mean, you never know who you’re bringing into your home. You two could’ve been a couple of drug addicts, for all we knew. Could’ve robbed us blind. And that’s not what we wanted. We wanted a couple of nice kids who would give my wife some company and make our lives a little easier. So, are you gonna make my life easier, Luna?”
I wanted to believe he was lying. But what if he wasn’t? What if no one else would take us? We were in a nice neighborhood here. We didn’t get slapped around. We were fed and taken care of. And there were no bugs in our beds. Logan was doing great in school and had even made some friends. My grades were good, too. I liked my teachers. And the other kids were actually pretty decent for high school kids, even if I hadn’t made any good friends. But that was kind of my own fault. I didn’t nurture any relationships because I didn’t want people to start asking me to hang out or wanting to come over.
It could be so much worse for us.
I can handle this, I told myself. I could. I could handle Mr. Phillips for a few years until I turned eighteen and could petition the courts for custody of Logan. I could do it for Logan. As long as no one touched him, I could do it. To make sure my little brother got the best chance he could at life.
Wiping the palms of my hands on the front of my shorts, I walked slowly over to the table and pulled out the chair across from him. “Okay.”
He smiled at me again. “This is gonna be fun. You’ll see.” He started dealing the cards. “How about we start easy with some five-card draw.”
“What are the bets?” I asked him. Icy fingers slid down my spine when he just looked at me and smiled.
“We’ll get to that. Let me deal these cards.” He gave us both five cards, face down on the table. “Okay. Now look at your hand.”
I picked up the cards and looked at them. I had a pair of twos, a queen, a five, and an eight.
“The rules are whoever has the best hand wins. And you can trade in up to three of your cards for new ones if you don’t like what you’re holding.”
I had no idea what I was holding. I looked across the table at Mr. Phillips, trying to tell what he had by his expression, but I couldn’t read him. “What’s a winning hand?”
“A winning hand can be anything from a royal flush to a couple of pairs. It depends on what the other players have.”
I looked down at my hand again. I had no idea what a royal flush was, but I did have a pair of twos. “Does it matter what the pair is?” I asked. I was giving away my hand, but I thought this was important to know.
“Nope.” Mr. Phillips finished rearranging the cards in his hand. “Okay, now we bet.”
I hesitated. “But I haven’t traded any of my cards yet.”
“You’ll do that after we bet,” he told me.
“But you just traded some of your cards.”
“I forgot to take the jokers out.”
He was lying. But since I had no clue what the rules were, I couldn’t prove it, and all I could do for now was take his word for it.
“Ya know, I’ve been thinking. Instead of you betting your brother’s entire week of summer camp in one game, how about you bet a day at a time.” Turning in his chair, he opened the drawer beneath the counter nearest him and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. “We’ll keep track on here,” he said.
Knowing I didn’t have a choice, I agreed. “Okay.”
He started writing.
I forced myself to say the next words. “And what if I lose?”
Laying the pen on the table next to the pad of paper, he gave a casual shrug. “I’m not sure what I want to bet yet. So, for right now, we’ll just keep track of who’s winning or losing and then we’ll tally it up at the end. Five games for five days at camp. Sound good?”
I swallowed and nodded.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he snapped. “We’re just having a little damn fun.”
I lowered my eyes. “Can I trade some cards now?”
“Yup. Go ahead.”
Pulling the queen, the five, and the eight from my hand, I laid them in the discard pile. Mr. Phillips dealt me three new cards and I picked them up. Another queen, an ace, and a three. I tried not to let the disappointment show on my face, but I could tell from the excitement in his eyes that I wasn’t very successful.
