Page 47 of Refuge for Flora

Flora shrugged. “A little.”

“Of course I know how to play poker,” Barrett said with a grin. “You wanna play?”

“Hell yeah. Ain’t had nobody to play poker with in a long time. Five card stud?”

Barrett grinned. “You’re on!”

He dealt the cards for the three of them and Flora looked at her hand. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“You’re gonna be sorry for that, girl,” Mrs.Murphy growled.

A couple of minutes later, Mrs.Murphy was hiding behind her cards, her eyes darting back and forth between Flora and Barrett. “You got a good hand?” Barrett asked her.

“Yeah.”

“Let’s see it.”

Mrs.Murphy slapped her cards down on the table. “Full house. Top that.”

“Whatcha got, Flora?” Barrett asked her.

“I have no idea. I think this is probably a bad hand.” She gently laid the cards down.

Barrett’s eyes went wide. “Babe, you’ve got four of a kind! That’s good!”

“Is it?”

“It’s better than hers,” he answered and pointed at Mrs.Murphy.

Flora was a bit surprised, but Mrs.Murphy didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, yeah? So what do you have?”

“Read ‘em and weep.”

With his cards face up, Flora stared at them. “None of them match.”

“They ain’t ‘spose to,” Mrs.Murphy barked. “That there’s a royal flush!”

“Yep. I win that round.”

As he gathered up the cards, Flora caught movement across the table and almost screamed. “What are you doing?”

Mrs.Murphy had her shirt halfway off, the straps of her ragged old cotton bra slipping off her shoulders. “It’s strip poker, ain’t it?”

“Jesus, no!” Barrett hopped up from the table so fast that his chair fell over. “No-no-no-no-NO! No strip poker!” he bellowed as he retreated into the kitchen.

“But that’s what we’s always…”

“This isn’t always! Put your clothes back on!” Flora shrieked and tried to help her, but Mrs.Murphy fought off the younger woman’s hands. “We can’t play strip poker!”

“Why not? I wanted him to lose!” Mrs.Murphy yelled.

Flora heard a sound and turned to find Barrett laughing so hard that he was wheezing. “You think this is funny?” she snarled, but she was grinning.

“You don’t?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Mrs.Murphy was still yelling. “If we ain’t strippin’, what the hell’s the point?”

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