Page 107 of Nuts

A fireplace was centered on the wall. The stone mantle was covered in photos of who I assumed were Percy and his brothers.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“We used to hang their Christmas stockings there. Filled them on Christmas eve. When they decided Santa Claus didn’t exist, we kept filling them anyway.”

I shot her a look of surprise. “Santa doesn’t exist?”

“He does in this house.”

“As he should.”

Her eyebrows raised. “Do you have any children?”

“Not yet.”

“I’d like to fill that mantle with stockings again before my time comes.”

I glanced at the fireplace. I imagined children’s voices, their excitement on Christmas morning, and their fights over who might be king of the treehouse. The thought filled me with excitement.

I looked at her and smiled. “I’d like that, too.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

P-Nut

She opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Dressed in my favorite jeans and one of the new tee shirts she’d recently purchased, she looked magnificent.

“Ready?” I asked.

“Yep.”

“You look magnificent.”

“Magnificent?”

I looked her up and down, and then gave her a kiss. “I’m thinking so.”

“So how does this work? I’ve always wondered.”

“What?”

“A poker run. What’s the process?”

“We hop on the sled and ride all fucking day.”

“So that’s the plan? We aimlessly ride up and down the coast?”

“No. It’s organized. Come on.” I turned toward the door. “We’re going to be late.”

She rushed to my side. “How about a quick rundown?”

“Everyone starts at a selected spot. They give each rider a sealed envelope. Inside it is a card that has all 52 cards from a deck of cards printed on it. On the outside of the envelope are the numbers 1 through 52. The rider slips the envelope in his pocket or hands it to his Ol’ Lady. In an organized group, we ride to five different cities. In each city, we pick a random number out of a bucket or a sack or a pile of ping pong balls. The person who’s in charge at each stop punches the card with the number we’ve randomly picked. At the last stop, we turn in our cards. We have no idea what five cards we’ve selected, because we can’t see the inside of the envelope. The proctor opens the envelope, tallies up who got what poker hand, and the best hand wins the grand prize. Make sense?”

“I think so. Poker with no skill. Just a random selection of cards by chance. Best five cards wins?”

I pulled the door closed, and checked the lock. “You’ve got it.”

“How many people attend?”