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6 Nathan

I needed a beer. There was no beer. And why was there no beer at this weekly poker game?

Because the dude bringing it was late.

I’m pretty sure that somewhere written in the guy code of life was a rule that stated, “He who brings the beer shows up on time.”

Clearly this guy needed a class on guy code.

“Where the hell is the beer?” Patton complained as he shuffled the deck for, like, the thirtieth time.

“I say we dock him a hundred in chips when he gets here,” Braden said.

“There’s liquor behind the bar,” Jinx, our host, said, getting up and going around the wooden bar against the wall. “Who wants a drink?”

A couple of the guys yelled out their orders and a few more made jokes about leaving and going to Twin Peaks (it was like Hooters) for their drinks.

I stayed quiet. I didn’t want liquor. I wanted beer. Beer was good for mellowing the mood, and for some reason I wasn’t feeling too mellow. I thought finally taking down that picture, finally resolving that it was time to move on, would give me a sense of peace.

But I didn’t feel any peace.

Instead, I felt kind of edgy, kind of keyed up. It was as if something was happening around me that I didn’t know about, yet I could feel the bad energy.

Yeah, like I said, I seriously needed that beer.

“Should we just start the game? Make him sit out the first hand?” Patton said, returning to the chair beside mine with what looked like Captain Morgan and Coke in his hand.

“You driving?” I drawled, giving the glass a pointed stare. Yeah, I sounded like an old man, but he was one of mine. I wasn’t about to let one of mine screw up his life over a couple drinks.

“I’m crashing on the couch,” he replied.

I nodded and let the subject drop. I wasn’t a nag and I took him at his word. Besides, he knew I would come down on him if he got behind the wheel of his car. Marines were never really “off duty.” Marines were on call twenty-four seven.

Acting like an ass wasn’t part of the job.

Patton started dealing the cards, and I glanced at the door once more. I wasn’t what I would consider friends with the guy bringing the beer. Lex was more or less and acquaintance that I saw every Friday at our poker games. I knew him well enough that if I saw him out in town or at a restaurant, I would stop and say hi, maybe make a few cracks about poker or something. But he wasn’t someone I would go watch a game with either.

I fished my cell out of my pocket and called up his name in my contacts. All of the regular poker players exchanged numbers a while back, in case of a location change or if something came up and someone couldn’t be there. It was common courtesy to let the others know because we usually held up the game until we were all around the table.

Which made his tardiness that much more peculiar.

“Anyone hear from Lex?” I asked. Maybe he wasn’t coming.

No one spoke up; everyone shrugged. “It’s not like him to be late,” one of the guys said as he adjusted his chips into neat stacks.

“Shit comes up,” Jinx said matter-of-factly, sitting down with a huge ass glass of some kind of liquor concoction.

Bottom’s up, I told him silently. The faster he got hammered, the faster I would start winning. I hadn’t lied when I told Patton I was feeling lucky.

I fully intended to walk away with full pockets tonight.

I hit the message button and shot off a quick text to Lex.

You’re late. U coming?

Hopefully he would reply with a yes or no and we could get on with the game. And someone could make a damn beer run.

How Jinx could have that bar and no beer was beyond me. ‘Course, last weekend we were all here watching football so I guess I kind of knew where the beer had gone.

I dumped the phone in my lap and picked up my cards as the game began. I grabbed up a handful of peanuts and tossed them into my mouth, crunching away as I studied my cards. Not a completely worthless hand. I could work with this.

A few minutes later, the basement door opened and Lex came into the room carrying two paper sacks, which he set on top of the bar. A series of “heys” and “what ups” sounded around the room.

“Beer’s here!” Patton called and elbowed me.

I grinned and laid my cards facedown on the table. “No peaking,” I told him.

He snorted and started talking smack. “Please. Your mom could play a better hand than you.”

I grinned because he was right.

Lex was pulling out a case of Miller Light from the bag as I approached. “Thanks, man,” I said, reaching in to grab one.

“Sorry I’m late. Traffic was a bitch and the liquor store was packed.”

“No worries,” I said, popping the top and letting the beer flood my mouth. Ahhhhh.

Lex grabbed a beer and chugged about half the can in one gulp. I eyed him. He seemed a little fidgety, not quite as steady as he usually was. He was usually more friendly, more prone to smile.

“Everything okay?” I asked him.

“Hmm?” he said, pulling the beer away from his lips. “Yeah, totally. Long day at work is all.”

“I hear that,” I said and saluted him with my beer. “TGIF.”

Lex grinned. “Deal me in!” he called, and then we both went over to the table to start the game.

I completely forgot about the text I sent him…

Until a few moments later when I got a reply.