Page 5 of Play the Last Card

I sigh, meeting his gaze and allowing the sea of blue to wash over me. I lift a shoulder in defeat.

“Fine. I will see you in the morning.”

I wave to the nurses behind the station, their large coffee mugs steaming as they prepare for a long night ahead. Pops was admitted two weeks ago after a stroke. They’re still monitoring him daily and ensuring he takes his medication. He’s so forgetful these days. If only I was able to be home more he’d probably be able to come home. But Pops won’t let me quit my job as a teacher or take a leave of absence.

So, we decided to compromise.

He stays in the hospital and I get to huff about it.

We’ll find the right nurse, eventually. Nan gave me high standards when it comes to his care, being a nurse herself, and candidates that will be professional and not pry too far into our life are few and far between. For now, he’ll have to stay under the care of the doctors.

My attention waivers at the buzzing in my pocket. I pull out my phone.

Katie:Where are you?

I sigh. The back-to-school celebration drinks planned at Pats has been sitting in the back of my mind for days now. I don’t really want to go.

You need to live a little.

The voice in the back of my mind isn’t Pops’, although I like to imagine that they may sound the same if dad had lived to grow older. As hard as I try, I can’t remember my parents all that much. I don’t have any memories of dad talking to me, just the interview tapes that I watch on repeat and the home videos I obsess over. It’s his voice, the one from the tapes in the back of my head urging me to just suck it up and go for a drink with my friends. It’s always his voice that pushes me to do things, like he knows I’m likely to hide away for the rest of my life. I listen.

It might only be my own subconscious manifesting as his voice but I always listen.

Ivy:Leaving the hospital now. I’ll come for one drink.

Katie:More like five, please and thank you.

Ivy:Two, tops.

Katie:Make one a shot and you have a deal.

Ivy:Fine. Deal.

Katie:Yay! See you soon, Booker.

Katie was my roommate for the three months I’d lived on campus in freshman year. We had just been getting to know each other, the tentative path to friendship forming when Nan passed.

She hadn’t questioned the three in the morning phone call, hadn’t questioned the flurry of movement, the rapid tears falling down my face.

She had simply slipped her shoes on, took the keys from my hand, and driven me to the hospital. She’d stayed till the next night, giving me a shoulder to cry on. She’d never asked questions, or for an explanationwhen my parents had never shown up, or when the nurses all knew who I was the moment we walked in.

She’d been a friend. Never asking or needing to know more than whether I needed something to drink or eat. She didn’t pry or get curious—something I’ve come to learn must have been difficult for her because she truly loves gossip—and we’ve been attached to one another ever since.

The bar I walk into is a far cry from the one I closed up just a few nights ago. Then I was shuffling out the loud bachelor’s group just after eight in the evening, now it’s practically bursting. You wouldn’t think it’s the same bar.

Music makes the windows shudder with the deep base. I take a breath as I tug open the door to prepare myself. I recognize most of the people crowding around the bar. Most are teachers from the school, some with their partners, some without.

I force a smile at the office administration girls huddled in a booth by the door, heads close together clutching cocktails tightly in their hands. ‘Girls’ is probably the wrong word for the four women in their late fifties who only ever come to these things so they can learn the gossip firsthand, then spread it later.

Making my way to the bar, I spot Katie behind it, drunkenly pouring herself a beer.

“You aren’t supposed to do that anymore.” I laugh as I tuck my small bag and jacket behind the bar for safe keeping. A perk of being best friends with the owners’ daughter.

Katie flicks off the tap, her smile glowing as she looks up at me. “You came!”

“I told you I would,” I yell over the music.

“I never know with you, though. Half expected you to bail at the last minute.”