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“Katelyn,” I said, turning my eyes from Chi Chi’s to Katelyn’s, which were glassed over in her alcohol-induced state. “There ain’t no fucking telling what you have in your hand, and I would rather fold than lose to you. I’m gonna let you and tits over here battle it out.” I threw my hand down, making sure they were lost in the discarded pile, and grabbed my beer, downing the last swallow.
“There’s one down. Chi Chi, you gonna stay or you gonna fold? It’s up to you.” Brooklyn said, lighting a cigarette and leaning up, putting her arms on the table.
“I want to stay, but,” she said quickly, leaning up and glaring at Katelyn. “I’m like Dallas, but I’m not gonna be so nice about it. I ain’t gonna lose to no PROSPECT’s wife and have to walk out of here without my balls. I would rather fucking fold.” Chi Chi threw her hand down, and sat back with her arms crossed.
“Well, all I got to say is that this PROPSPECT’S wife is the proud owner of your favorite mother-effin bra.” Katelyn threw her hands up in a happy dance, giving Brooklyn a high five, and soon she was joining Katelyn in her celebration dance, while the rest of us wondered if Katelyn had really just said ‘mother-effin.’
“So, what did you have?” Maddie asked, walking up behind Katelyn and giving her a congratulatory kiss.
“Not shit. I bluffed ‘em with an Ace high!” Katelyn squealed, still dancing in her seat.
“Well ain’t you happier than a pig in shit. Hell, I could have beat that and I wasn’t even playin’,” Punkin added, passing out beer to everyone at the table.
“I’m proud of you,” Brooklyn said in my ear, coming up behind me and wrapping her arms around my neck. I arched my head so she could see my questioning look. “Maddie told us she explained to you about Katelyn and why she was so hesitant to play.” I had never been so happy that Maddie had opened her mouth.
“Thanks Brooklyn. That means a lot coming from you.” Chi Chi came to sit beside me, and nudged her shoulder with mine.
“I had an ace high flush,” she said, with a smile. I grinned at her.
“So did I.” She threw her head back and laughed. “You know,” she said, gaining her composure, and turning serious, “Shark and I had it rough when he prospected. It nearly ripped us apart because I refused to give these girls a chance. I’m glad I did, and I’m glad you’re here. Thank you for what you did for Katelyn. I know it took a lot.” I knew she was referring to my stubborn pride, and not the money and clothes that were on the table.
“Not as much as it once did,” I said honestly, enjoying the feeling of elation that had overwhelmed me when I saw how happy Katelyn had been to win.
“That’s good, Dallas. That means this club actually means something to you.”
“So I have been told,” I responded, happy that Chi Chi and I were now working with a fully lit tunnel. In the words of Lindsey, our friendship flower was starting to bloom, but the light in our tunnel was busted and our friendship flower wilted, as the sounds of bikes approaching rang loudly in our ears.
“Oh, fuck.” Punkin said, jumping from the chair and scrambling around for her shirt. We were all in a drunk, naked frenzy as we ran around the table trying to find clothes.
“Punkin, give me my fucking shirt!” Red yelled, chasing Punkin around the pool table.
“Not till you find mine!” she replied, holding Red’s shirt securely on top of her head. I stopped my run to hold my side, which was in pain due to my laughter. Mary shook Katina, scaring the shit out of her, and causing her to flip over the poker table and scatter beer bottles everywhere, when she jumped up in a panic.
“Shit, fuck, dammit!” Maddie squealed with a laugh, as she jumped over the rolling bottles. As they rolled around the floor, I watched as Punkin stopped dead in her tracks, her look serious and almost angry.
“I just about pulled my fucking back out dragging that trash can over here and y’all didn’t even use it,” Punkin said, pointing to the empty trash can.
“Punkin, you carried the fucking cooler,” Maddie informed her, as I hit my knees trying to see through my tears of laughter to gather the beer bottles.
“No shit? Well hell, y’all know I be forgetting,” Punkin said, as she dropped to her knees with Red’s shirt still securely wrapped around her head.
“What in the hell is goin’ on?” Silence descended, as we all stopped and looked to Ronnie standing in the doorway. Here we were, half-naked, on our knees in a destroyed clubhouse, trying to clean up the havoc that we had wreaked. I was expecting Brooklyn to come to our defense and placate a very confused and amused Ronnie, but it was Punkin who spoke.
