I gotta say, winning is my personal panacea. As I approached Ian’s behemoth of a house later that night, I had gone through an extreme metamorphosis. I no longer felt like a pariah. I no longer felt like some loser with no control and no skills. I was back, baby. On the road to redemption. And it felt good.
I took a deep breath of the cold night air and watched as the steam exhaled from my mouth. Everything felt better. Even breathing felt good. I rang the doorbell and waited while its melodious tune echoed through the lofty halls of Ian’s house. As expected, it was Ian who answered the door. In my entire life, neither of his parents had ever been the ones to answer the door. My own parents sometimes doubted that the O’Connors even existed.
Ian looked confused when he saw me standing on his front step. Not that I’m surprised. It was rather late on a Sunday, and we hadn’t spoken in days. He shivered against the cold and stepped back so that I could come in. It wasn’t much warmer in the marble hall behind the front door.
“Hey, man,” Ian said a little coolly. “What’s up?”
“I am here to make restitution,” I said grandly.
From my back pocket I pulled out a wad of cash. Ian’s reaction did not disappoint. He was absolutely stupefied. I wasn’t sure whether to feel aggrieved by this fact. Did he really think that I was never going to pay him back?
But I decided to ignore it. I was not here for an altercation. I was here to make amends.
“Where the hell did you get all that?” Ian asked.
“Abridged version? I was hot tonight, man,” I said, quickly counting through the bills.
“Hot tonight? Hot tonight where? Did you play poker?” Ian asked. He almost sounded petulant—upset that I had played without him. When he was the one who had barred me from his game. Sheesh.
“Yeah, I did,” I said. “And I won. Here. This is the money I’ve allocated for you. I think you’ll find it’s all there.”
He took the bills from my hand in wonder. “Damn, man.”
“I know. Cool, huh?” I said, grinning. “I know it’s belated, but—”
“No. I’m not psyched about the money,” he said. Then, when my face fell he added, “I mean, thanks for paying me back, but . . . I just can’t believe you’re still playing.”
I felt a lump form in my chest. Usually I’m pretty resilient, but I’d had enough of his negative attitude. I couldn’t believe he was attacking me just then. When I had come over there to make up. Our relationship was contentious enough as it was. Couldn’t he recognize an olive branch when he saw it?
“Dude, I cleaned up tonight. I played with Gray Dumas and his friends—all those guys we used to look up to—and I won,” I told him. “I came over her to tell you what happened and maybe celebrate with you, and instead you’re acting like I did something wrong.”
Of course, I had done something wrong. I had done something very wrong. I had managed to slip that three into my hand and had won the pot. And after that I was unstoppable. I had won another, and another, until finally the other guys had to bow out. I had been at the pinnacle of my game. And that little sleight of hand was what had turned it all around.
Which was not the point, of course. The point was I had turned it around. I had won every other hand fair and square. And I was proud of myself.
Ian looked down at the money and sighed again. “You’re right, Mike. I’m sorry,” he said finally. “It’s just, I was—”
“Worried about me. I know,” I said. I took a deep breath and looked at him. “Would it help if I swore I was never going to play another game?”
Ian’s eyes lit up. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously,” I said with a shrug. “It’s no big deal. It’s not like I was addicted to it or something. I just needed to get my money back. Which I did.”
“You won all of it back?” Ian asked.
I swallowed hard. “Well . . . yeah,” I lied. In actuality, after paying Winter and Ian back I only had a couple hundred—not nearly enough to restore my balance. But Ian didn’t need to know that. I fully intended to play with Gray and the guys again—I’d play until I got it all back—but he didn’t need to know that either. A couple white lies were nothing between friends. This way he wouldn’t have to keep “worrying” about me and I wouldn’t have to keep feeling him looking over my shoulder.
“So, we cool?” I asked.
Ian smiled. “Yeah. We’re cool,” he replied.
“Good.”
I was just going to have to be vigilant around him. Keep my money and my thoughts to myself until I got it all back. Then things would finally be able to go back to normal.
最后由 jasontomonaga 于 2008-04-06 09:45:40编辑
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