Page 52 of Lucky Shot
Downstairs, we take our usual seats around the poker table. We’ve been playing every Saturday night for the last two years. The group is slightly different depending on the time of year. Other guys pop in and out during the season and often we’re on the road, sitting around in someone’s hotel room instead of my basement. During the off-season it’s whoever is in town.
Dad winces as he carefully drops into the seat to my right. His leg is bothering him more and more. Not that he’d admit it. Another symptom of the heart issues he’s been having. I need to make sure he’s walking every day. The doctor said if he was consistent with that, it would make a big difference.
Travis picks up the cards and starts to shuffle. “It feels like my night to take your money.”
He says that every week, despite his epic losing streak. The last time he won was eight months ago when D-Low was absent and I was getting over the flu.
As the cards are divvied up, somewhere upstairs Aidan begins playing his guitar.
“Damn,” my dad says. “I forgot my earplugs upstairs.”
Shep chuckles and Penn grimaces.
“Go easy on him,” I say. “He’s just learning.”
Aidan picks that moment to hit a particularly rough chord and I wince involuntarily.
“Is that an old Metallica song?” Travis asks, bopping his head and dealing the cards around the table.
“Nah, nah. I think it’s Pink Floyd,” my dad says.
It’s as likely to be “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” for as much as I can make out of it. It’s really not my son’s fault; musicaltalent does not run in the family. My mom put me in piano as a kid and it was torture.
“It’s ‘Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door,’” Penn says as he tosses in his ante.
We all pause and listen. Sure enough.
“I’ll be damned.” Dad grins.
“How in the hell did you know that?” I ask Penn.
He shrugs. “I tried to learn guitar one summer to impress a girl.”
A surprised laugh escapes my lips. “You did?”
A small smirk lifts one side of his mouth.
“How’d that go?” I ask.
“Turns out she was more into jocks.”
“And?” I wait for the end of the story.
“So I asked my mom to sign me up for hockey camp.”
Penn taking up hockey for a girl is as surprising as anything I’ve heard. As long as I’ve known him, he’s dated almost as infrequently as me. A few hookups but even those felt more like the girl fell in his lap then him making any effort. Lucky for him, he doesn’t have a meddling father who refuses to keep his nose out of his business.
“God bless women.” Travis lifts his beer.
“Here, here.” Dad lifts his as well.
Shep does, too, absently without a word. D-Low and I exchange a look but join in.
“Speaking of women,” Dad starts.
“Here we go,” I mutter.
“I mean, she’s out there all on her own. Would it kill you to invite her to play?”
