[fic: "Big Blind, Little Blind", Mike and Sadie Sweeney, Durham County]
Title: Big Blind, Little Blind
Author: Sionnain
Fandom: Durham County
Characters: Mike Sweeney, Sadie Sweeney
Rating: PG
Spoilers: For Season 2 of Durham County. Takes place before the final scene in the finale.
Summary: Mike teaches Sadie how to play Texas Hold 'Em Poker.
AN: My thanks to Inlovewithnight and snoopypez for the beta! This is for Waltzforanight on her birthday!!
Big Blind, Little Blind
"Dad." Sadie crossed her arms, sighed, gave Mike the sort of disdainful look at which teenagers were exceptionally gifted. "I know how to play cards. I've been kicking your ass at Go Fish since I was six."
"Yeah, I know, Sade," Mike said, trying not to smile. "But this isn't Go Fish. It's poker. Okay? Trust me, if you're going to be a cop, you're going to have to know how to play."
That was the right thing to say, clearly; Sadie sat up a little in her chair, looking interested rather than dismissive. "Yeah?"
Mike nodded solemnly, shuffling the cards. "Yeah. What did you think I was doing, when I said I was playing poker with Caleb? When I say I'm going to play at Tom's?"
"Going to strip clubs," Sadie answered immediately. "Though I guess Tom wouldn't go with you, if that was some kind of secret guy code."
Mike laughed, he couldn't help it. "Jesus, Sadie. I was actually playing poker, okay?" This was veering dangerously close into territory Mike had no desire to revisit--namely, all the things he'd lied about, to her and everyone else--so he changed the subject. "And I'm good, Sadie. Very good. So I expect you uphold the Sweeney family honor and take after me, you got it?"
"Okay," she conceded, sitting up straight and folding her hands on the table. She gave Mike an expectant look, serious and intent--Christ, it was like looking in a mirror. Mike felt a sudden rush of love for her, so strong he wanted to reach across the table and take her hand in his, tell her again how sorry he was, how much he loved her and how proud he was of her. But that wasn't his way, and it wasn't Sadie's, either; she would just get uncomfortable, pull away, like Mike himself did in the face of such open emotion.
Instead, he said quietly, "The thing you have to remember about poker, Sade, is that it isn't just the cards that determines the winner. It's how well you know the other players, their style, their strategies. Got it?"
Sadie nodded. "People bluff at poker, so you have to know if that's what they're doing. You use typical body language signs, I know about those, remember? You've taught me those since I was a kid."
It made Mike almost smile that she thought she wasn't a kid, but then he remembered everything she'd been through, remembered her standing straight and proud at Ray Prager's trial, and he realized that despite her age, Sadie's childhood was, for all intents and purposes, completely over. And he felt a rush of anger at that, so hot and sharp it nearly took his breath away--Ray Prager, that fucking bastard. He should rot in hell for what he'd done to Sadie, and Mike went to bed every night hoping he'd be the one to send him there.
"Dad," Sadie said quietly, and Mike looked down; he'd stopped shuffling, was holding onto the cards so hard he was bending a few of them. "You okay?"
Mike looked up at her. They were trying to get their relationship back on track after what had happened, and spending Friday nights together was part of that. It wasn't easy, because they weren't, and it was frustrating because they were both incredibly guarded and defensive people. As much as he loved Sadie, Mike sometimes wished that, for her sake, she wasn't so goddamned much like him.
With Maddie, it was easier. Mike could take her to the park, go swimming, watch endless hours of Dr. Who and Maddie so obviously enjoyed having him around. He remembered her telling him sometimes you're not a very good father and his heart would nearly break; Mike loved his kids so much, and it was a constant source of sorrow for him that he was apparently incapable of showing it. But Maddie was Audrey's daughter through and through--she was loving and kind, willing to forgive, and she was happy with her and Mike's Wednesday and Saturdays together. Even he and Audrey had found a tentative peace--maybe not friends, but something a lot closer than they were. They talked on the phone about the kids, she gave him a beer when he went to pick Maddie up for their visits. Mike had a condo now, wasn't living in that depressing hotel, and life was moving on for everyone.
But Sadie...Mike loved both his kids, of course, but the bond he and Sadie shared was something even he didn't understand--sometimes, in a poetic moment, Mike thought she was the other half of his soul. The good half, the light half, the person he'd always wished he could have been. And fuck, he wouldn't wish that on anyone.
Which meant, of course, that Sadie inherited his temper and his tendency to brood, and his inability to let anything go, ever. And Mike would never, ever forget that look of terror on her face at the Farm when she'd thought he was involved in Lyssie Lexie's death; the pain of seeing how afraid of him she was, it'd wounded him to the core. They'd put it behind them as best they could, and she had decided to live with him instead of Audrey, but it was still there, that murmur of distrust and fear.
Mike would do whatever it took to fix things with her, but Sadie, being so much like him; words weren't the answer, protestations of sorrow or guilt weren't the answer, and talking about their feelings was definitely not the answer. So on a Friday night, both of them having eaten pizza and Mike having watched How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria (Sadie threatened to beat him up if he told anyone she watched that show), Mike had decided to teach her how to play poker.
You okay?
He nodded once in answer to her question, then started dealing the cards. "All right, first off, here's the list of winning hands. Memorize it so that you don't have to have one of those little cheat sheets--no one will take you seriously."
Because Sadie hated not to be taken seriously, she listened attentively as Mike went over the rules of what-beat-what. He made her repeat it back to him twice--she nailed it, both times. No crib sheet for my kid, Mike thought proudly, dealing them each two cards.
Sadie looked at hers, then mimicked him and put them flat on the table. "Okay, now what?"
"Now," Mike said, reaching for the stack of poker chips, "You bet. The person to the left of the dealer is the little blind. That means you put in the first ante, which is set by the house. So, in this house, it's five." He threw in one of the white chips.
"Lame. You should make it higher than that."
Mike smiled at her. "You're only saying that because I'm not making you play with your allowance. This time," he said, pointing at her. Sadie giggled, and the sound warmed Mike through and through. He continued, "The next person at the table is the big blind. They put in twice the little blind value, usually. So if that's you, you've got to put in ten."
Sadie scowled. "But that's stupid. I don't know if I want to play the hand," she groused, tossing in two white chips. "I need to see more cards first."
"That's poker, Sade. You have to have someone in so that you can have a round," he said, shaking his head at her. "But you know, if you're already bitching--" Mike winked at her. "--I bet that means your cards suck."
"Whatever, Dad," she responded spritely, but then looked a little abashed, as if he'd caught her at something. He could see her mentally chiding herself for it, and he swallowed a laugh in a cough and explained the rules of raise, check and call.
"So, then, the dealer turns over three cards that everyone plays off of." Mike turned over three, and looked at her. "Now, you have to decide--do you want to check, raise, or call?"
Sadie chewed on her bottom lip, looked at her cards and then the ones on the table. "I'll--check." She rapped her knuckles on the table, just like he'd told her to do.
Mike nodded, pleased. "I'll check, too. That means we get a free card." He turned another card over and laid it on the table. Mike had a pair of aces in his hand, and there was king on the table. Not a great hand, but enough to keep going. "Your turn."
Sadie stared at him. Mike stared back. Neither of them blinked for a few minutes, and Sadie was sizing him up in that way of hers. "I'll stay in," Sadie said finally, and put the requisite amount of chips in the center of the table.
"I'll raise you," Mike said, expressionless, and tossed in two red chips; worth four of the white ones.
Sadie scowled at him. "I'm not going to just drop out," she said haughtily, tossing her chips in, too. "I'm not a quitter."
"Even though you don't have a damn thing in your hand?" Mike said, laughing outright as she scowled at him. "Sadie, come on. You're just staying in because you don't want to fold."
"No, I have--I mean, maybe--damn it, Dad," she said, but she laughed, that bright, happy laugh that Mike hadn't heard in a long, long time. It made him so happy, he didn't even tell her to watch her language. "I'm staying in." She matched the bet, putting her chips in with a determined look.
"All right," Mike said with a shake of his head, and turned over another card. He now had three of a kind, and it figures he never got hands like this when he was playing for actual money. Mike took two blue chips--worth two of the red--and tossed them in the center. She could have something better, but he doubted it. "You ready to fold? Part of playing poker is to know when to quit." Mike pitched his voice low, started singing. "You gotta know when to fold 'em, know when to hold em--"
Sadie was looking at him like he was the biggest idiot on the planet. "What the hell is that?"
"Kenny Rogers? The Gambler? Jesus, you're killing me," he winced, a hand on his heart, but something dark swam in Sadie's eyes before she looked away, and Mike felt like an idiot, like he'd done the wrong thing.
But Sadie just rolled her eyes with all the theatrical talent of a sixteen year old, and said, "Fine, I'll take Mr. Kenny Loggins--"
"Rogers, Sadie. Kenny Rogers. And how the hell do you know Kenny Loggins if you don't know Kenny Rogers?"
"I've seen Top Gun, that's why. And whatever. I'll take his advice and know when to fold 'em." She tossed her cards on the table, crossed her arms, and gave him a glare that looked all too familiar. "What've you got? 'Cause I think you were bluffing."
Mike shook his head, reached over and took her cards. He shuffled hers, his, and the rest of the ones on the table together. "No way, Sade. Important rule of poker--you've got to pay to see."
Sadie looked pissed. "Wait, what? Then how do I know if you were bluffing me, or if you actually had anything?"
Mike grinned. "You don't."
"But that's--that's not fair."
Mike laughed and pushed the cards at her. "Poker's not fair, kid. Just like life. C'mon. Deal the cards."
Sadie looked at him, a little wounded, and for a second--he remembered her being six years old, running inside and winding herself around his legs, crying because she'd bet her favorite stuffed dog in a game with the neighbor and lost. Daddy, it's not fair, she'd said, sobbing against his leg. I didn't think he'd really make me give him Snuffy. Mike--well, he'd wanted to beat Jeremy Nations into a pulp, the little fucker, how dare he make his kid cry?--had picked her up, wiped her tears, and said the exact same thing. Life's not fair, kiddo. And you have to do what you say, okay? That's important.
Audrey had been pissed, of course. Later, after she'd called the Jeremy's parents and retrieved the stuffed animal, she'd confronted Mike about it. Sadie was in bed, happily clutching Snuffy and fast asleep. "Mike, she's six. You really think that's the way to handle this? She doesn't really have a concept about betting and losing, you know."
"She's gotta learn some time, Audrey," Mike had said. "Kids have to make their own mistakes. You mark my words, she'll do it again until she figures that out."
The next day, Sadie bet one of Audrey's bracelets instead of her stuffed animals, and promptly lost that, too. "See?" Audrey had groused, after yet another phone call to retrieve her jewelry. "Now she's just betting stuff that isn't hers. When I asked her why she did that, do you know what she said? Mommy, that's not mine, so I don't care if I lose it. So much for your tough love approach and learning important life lessons at six, Mike!"
Mike had wrapped his arms around Audrey and hidden his smile in her hair. It seemed like a pretty good lesson learned to him, but he was smart enough not to say that at the time.
"Dad?" Sadie drummed her fingers on the table, bringing him back to the present.
"Yeah. Okay, you have to let the person to your right cut the cards..."
They played a few more hands, and Mike won them all. Mainly because Sadie tried bluffing him, which wasn't a good idea because she tried to be entirely too serious about it and stared at him too long ("Sadie, you look like an owl."), and then she started folding when she didn't have anything. Once, she had some pretty good cards--Mike could tell, because she was getting awfully smug about it--but he had a straight, so he still won. That actually pissed her off more, because she'd been so convinced she was going to win.
"This sucks," she told him, cranky, and Mike thought she looked adorable but he was smart enough not tell her that. She'd always hated losing--board games or card games or video games, anything. "I hate playing cards with you. I'm going to play with Maddie, or Mom, so that I can win." She sank down into her chair, sulkily munching on a carrot from the bowl of vegetables next to her. (Mike wanted chips, but it wasn't worth the lecture about trans-fats and his heart.)
"Maddie's still too young for poker, and hey--your Mom's pretty good." Mike took a drink of his beer--he'd concede the carrot sticks, but poker without beer was an abomination--and laughed at her incredulous expression. "I'm not lying. She is. On one of our first dates, I took her to a party where we ended up playing poker. She won our cab fare back home." They'd needed the cab because they'd been too trashed to drive, but Mike didn't tell Sadie that part.
"Mom? Huh. I mean, she's smart, but she's so...emotional." Sadie said the word like it was a curse.
"Sadie? I don't think either one of us should ever accuse anyone of being emotional," Mike said dryly, checking his cards. He had a shit hand--he'd try to bluff her, see if she'd catch it or if she'd fold.
"Well, you know what I mean." Sadie waved her hand airily. "Her and Maddie, they're emotional and they like....talk about it." She wrinkled her nose. "I'd rather just punch something."
Mike had to restrain himself from getting out of his seat, going around the table, and hugging the breath out of her. Me too, kid. Me, too. "Well, sometimes talking is good," Mike said, in his Dad-voice, to which Sadie just huffed and turned her attention back to her hand.
"So Mom's good at poker?" she asked, studying her cards. "She didn't do the dumb girl thing, did she? Because I hate that, and I'm not doing it, not even to win."
"Nah. Your Mom's never been like that, c'mon, Sadie. You know that. She was just good at cards. Knew when to sit out, was good at telling when people were bluffing. Good bullshit detector." Which was true, but Mike was leaving out Audrey's other poker strategy--which was to wear a low-cut shirt and lean over a lot--on purpose. Mike wasn't about to cop to that one, though. If Audrey found out he'd told Sadie that, she'd probably re-marry him just so she could divorce him all over again.
"Yeah? Could she tell when you were? Bluffing, that is. Because you said you were a good player, but that it wasn't about the cards. So if you stayed in and won, then you must have bluffed a lot."
Mike met Sadie's eyes, sharp and insightful. Mike didn't look away, and they stared at each other across the table--he heard the question she wasn't asking. "Sometimes, yeah. Sometimes she could tell when I was bluffing."
"But not all the time."
Mike shook his head, didn't look away. "No. Not all the time."
The heaviness of the past months intruded again, weighing on them both, and they were mostly silent as the round continued. Mike had a crap hand but he kept playing, and Sadie matched him bet-for-bet, though, until the last card.
"Show 'em," she said, showing her cards. She had a king and ace, meaning with the cards on the table she had a pair of kings.
Mike had a seven and a two. He laid his cards down, and Sadie nodded once before leaning in to take her chips. "I thought you were bluffing," she said, and her voice was quiet. "Think I'm done with poker, Dad."
"Always a good lesson to quit while you're ahead," Mike agreed, his own voice subdued. Fuck, he was trying so fucking hard, and in hindsight--maybe teaching his kid a game where he told her--and showed her--what a good fucking liar he was--yeah, maybe not the best way to rebuild all the trust they'd lost. Jesus, he was an idiot.
But she knew, a little voice said. She knew you were bluffing. She went all the way to the end with you. She always will.
Jesus. Mike didn't know if that cheered him up, or made him feel worse.
Sadie stood up, carrying her bowl of carrots into the kitchen. Mike sat in his seat, drinking his beer, staring moodily at nothing. He wasn't sure anything bad had happened, not really, or even that he'd done or said anything wrong. It was just a vague feeling of loss, that everything between them would be shadowed by that darkness they'd so narrowly escaped, that things would never be like they used to.
He was lost in his head for a little while, and he didn't hear her come back into the room. But suddenly she was behind him, her arms wrapped around him, her chin resting on the top of his head. "Don't brood, Dad," she chided, hugging him tight. "Thanks for teaching me to play poker."
Mike smiled briefly at that. "I'm not going to get a call about you running a poker ring at school, am I?" He raised one hand and pressed it against both of hers, crossed over his chest just above his heart.
"Nah. Those idiots, most of them are too stupid to count, much less play poker." Sadie didn't move away, and Mike--he could have sat there for an hour, not moving, because this was the first time she'd hugged him since that horrible fucking night at the Farm. Oh, she'd hug him when he hugged her, which he did often--but this was the first time she'd initiated it, and it made his eyes sting.
Jesus, he loved her so much.
"Do you--do you think he's going to come looking for me?"
Mike didn't play stupid, didn't say who? "I don't--I don't know, Sadie. He might. He might realize that every goddamn cop from here to Toronto is on the lookout, and he's not exactly going to be able to blend in with that face of his. If he tries to come back here, we'll find him." Mike tilted his head and looked up at her. "I won't let him hurt you, Sadie. Not ever again."
She nodded, then said softly, "I know. And I won't let him hurt me, either." She hugged him again, tight, with all the strength in her small body. "I love you, Dad."
Mike had to swallow, hard, before could he talk. "I love you too, Sadie. You and Maddie, you're the best thing I ever did," he said simply, because it was the truth.
Sadie made a sound, suspiciously like a sniffle, but predictably her next words were more sarcastic than sweet. "Geez, Dad. Sappy much? Also, stop devaluing me as a person and calling me a thing. Where'd you learn that, anyway? Therapy? Was it like, on one of those affirmations? Do they make say it over and over, in the mirror?"
Mike went to look at her again, intending to give her the parental version of the Sweeney Glare, but he ended up laughing instead. What did he expect? She was his kid, through and through. "No. From your mother. And Caleb. A lot of people. It doesn't make you weak to tell people how much they mean to you." he said, rubbing her crossed hands with his.
Especially when you never know when it'll be the last time you ever get to say it.
Sadie was quiet, but she didn't stop hugging him. "Want to play again next week?"
"Of course. We'll play for real money. Your allowance," Mike said, and Sadie laughed and pulled away after a final hug.
"Cool. We keep doing that, I'm going to save up enough to get a car. 'Cause I'm going to win, Dad. Never doubt me." She stopped by the doorway to the kitchen and smiled at him.
"I'd never doubt you, Sadie. Never," Mike said with fierce sincerity, and her smile faltered a little. She looked away, eyes suspiciously bright. And that, Mike decided, was enough sharing for the two of them for one night. "But I'm going to kick your ass, and I'm going to treat myself to a nice steak dinner with all your allowance money."
"Dad! God, red meat is so bad for you." Sadie met his eyes again, composed, and said, "I'm going to go to my room, okay?"
"Night," Mike said, then added, "Don't stay up too late chatting online, we're going to take your sister to that convention tomorrow and we have to pick her up at eight."
"Great, a whole day with geeks dressed like British television characters, I can't wait. Why can't she like a cool show, like NCIS or Cold Case Files?"
"Sadie, your sister doesn't have to share the same interests as we--you do," Mike amended, ignoring Sadie's triumphant ha! at his slip-up. "Look, bring a book if you want. But you're going, I'm not going to suffer through four hours of a Dr. Who convention on my own, all right? I love your sister, but I don't love her hobbies. And if you tell her I said that, you won't have an allowance to lose to me at poker. Got it?"
Sadie laughed. "Yeah, got it. Night, Dad." With that, Sadie headed upstairs to her room.
He sat at the table for a few minutes, finishing his beer, and then stood up to put the cards away.
Author: Sionnain
Fandom: Durham County
Characters: Mike Sweeney, Sadie Sweeney
Rating: PG
Spoilers: For Season 2 of Durham County. Takes place before the final scene in the finale.
Summary: Mike teaches Sadie how to play Texas Hold 'Em Poker.
AN: My thanks to Inlovewithnight and snoopypez for the beta! This is for Waltzforanight on her birthday!!
Big Blind, Little Blind
"Dad." Sadie crossed her arms, sighed, gave Mike the sort of disdainful look at which teenagers were exceptionally gifted. "I know how to play cards. I've been kicking your ass at Go Fish since I was six."
"Yeah, I know, Sade," Mike said, trying not to smile. "But this isn't Go Fish. It's poker. Okay? Trust me, if you're going to be a cop, you're going to have to know how to play."
That was the right thing to say, clearly; Sadie sat up a little in her chair, looking interested rather than dismissive. "Yeah?"
Mike nodded solemnly, shuffling the cards. "Yeah. What did you think I was doing, when I said I was playing poker with Caleb? When I say I'm going to play at Tom's?"
"Going to strip clubs," Sadie answered immediately. "Though I guess Tom wouldn't go with you, if that was some kind of secret guy code."
Mike laughed, he couldn't help it. "Jesus, Sadie. I was actually playing poker, okay?" This was veering dangerously close into territory Mike had no desire to revisit--namely, all the things he'd lied about, to her and everyone else--so he changed the subject. "And I'm good, Sadie. Very good. So I expect you uphold the Sweeney family honor and take after me, you got it?"
"Okay," she conceded, sitting up straight and folding her hands on the table. She gave Mike an expectant look, serious and intent--Christ, it was like looking in a mirror. Mike felt a sudden rush of love for her, so strong he wanted to reach across the table and take her hand in his, tell her again how sorry he was, how much he loved her and how proud he was of her. But that wasn't his way, and it wasn't Sadie's, either; she would just get uncomfortable, pull away, like Mike himself did in the face of such open emotion.
Instead, he said quietly, "The thing you have to remember about poker, Sade, is that it isn't just the cards that determines the winner. It's how well you know the other players, their style, their strategies. Got it?"
Sadie nodded. "People bluff at poker, so you have to know if that's what they're doing. You use typical body language signs, I know about those, remember? You've taught me those since I was a kid."
It made Mike almost smile that she thought she wasn't a kid, but then he remembered everything she'd been through, remembered her standing straight and proud at Ray Prager's trial, and he realized that despite her age, Sadie's childhood was, for all intents and purposes, completely over. And he felt a rush of anger at that, so hot and sharp it nearly took his breath away--Ray Prager, that fucking bastard. He should rot in hell for what he'd done to Sadie, and Mike went to bed every night hoping he'd be the one to send him there.
"Dad," Sadie said quietly, and Mike looked down; he'd stopped shuffling, was holding onto the cards so hard he was bending a few of them. "You okay?"
Mike looked up at her. They were trying to get their relationship back on track after what had happened, and spending Friday nights together was part of that. It wasn't easy, because they weren't, and it was frustrating because they were both incredibly guarded and defensive people. As much as he loved Sadie, Mike sometimes wished that, for her sake, she wasn't so goddamned much like him.
With Maddie, it was easier. Mike could take her to the park, go swimming, watch endless hours of Dr. Who and Maddie so obviously enjoyed having him around. He remembered her telling him sometimes you're not a very good father and his heart would nearly break; Mike loved his kids so much, and it was a constant source of sorrow for him that he was apparently incapable of showing it. But Maddie was Audrey's daughter through and through--she was loving and kind, willing to forgive, and she was happy with her and Mike's Wednesday and Saturdays together. Even he and Audrey had found a tentative peace--maybe not friends, but something a lot closer than they were. They talked on the phone about the kids, she gave him a beer when he went to pick Maddie up for their visits. Mike had a condo now, wasn't living in that depressing hotel, and life was moving on for everyone.
But Sadie...Mike loved both his kids, of course, but the bond he and Sadie shared was something even he didn't understand--sometimes, in a poetic moment, Mike thought she was the other half of his soul. The good half, the light half, the person he'd always wished he could have been. And fuck, he wouldn't wish that on anyone.
Which meant, of course, that Sadie inherited his temper and his tendency to brood, and his inability to let anything go, ever. And Mike would never, ever forget that look of terror on her face at the Farm when she'd thought he was involved in Lyssie Lexie's death; the pain of seeing how afraid of him she was, it'd wounded him to the core. They'd put it behind them as best they could, and she had decided to live with him instead of Audrey, but it was still there, that murmur of distrust and fear.
Mike would do whatever it took to fix things with her, but Sadie, being so much like him; words weren't the answer, protestations of sorrow or guilt weren't the answer, and talking about their feelings was definitely not the answer. So on a Friday night, both of them having eaten pizza and Mike having watched How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria (Sadie threatened to beat him up if he told anyone she watched that show), Mike had decided to teach her how to play poker.
You okay?
He nodded once in answer to her question, then started dealing the cards. "All right, first off, here's the list of winning hands. Memorize it so that you don't have to have one of those little cheat sheets--no one will take you seriously."
Because Sadie hated not to be taken seriously, she listened attentively as Mike went over the rules of what-beat-what. He made her repeat it back to him twice--she nailed it, both times. No crib sheet for my kid, Mike thought proudly, dealing them each two cards.
Sadie looked at hers, then mimicked him and put them flat on the table. "Okay, now what?"
"Now," Mike said, reaching for the stack of poker chips, "You bet. The person to the left of the dealer is the little blind. That means you put in the first ante, which is set by the house. So, in this house, it's five." He threw in one of the white chips.
"Lame. You should make it higher than that."
Mike smiled at her. "You're only saying that because I'm not making you play with your allowance. This time," he said, pointing at her. Sadie giggled, and the sound warmed Mike through and through. He continued, "The next person at the table is the big blind. They put in twice the little blind value, usually. So if that's you, you've got to put in ten."
Sadie scowled. "But that's stupid. I don't know if I want to play the hand," she groused, tossing in two white chips. "I need to see more cards first."
"That's poker, Sade. You have to have someone in so that you can have a round," he said, shaking his head at her. "But you know, if you're already bitching--" Mike winked at her. "--I bet that means your cards suck."
"Whatever, Dad," she responded spritely, but then looked a little abashed, as if he'd caught her at something. He could see her mentally chiding herself for it, and he swallowed a laugh in a cough and explained the rules of raise, check and call.
"So, then, the dealer turns over three cards that everyone plays off of." Mike turned over three, and looked at her. "Now, you have to decide--do you want to check, raise, or call?"
Sadie chewed on her bottom lip, looked at her cards and then the ones on the table. "I'll--check." She rapped her knuckles on the table, just like he'd told her to do.
Mike nodded, pleased. "I'll check, too. That means we get a free card." He turned another card over and laid it on the table. Mike had a pair of aces in his hand, and there was king on the table. Not a great hand, but enough to keep going. "Your turn."
Sadie stared at him. Mike stared back. Neither of them blinked for a few minutes, and Sadie was sizing him up in that way of hers. "I'll stay in," Sadie said finally, and put the requisite amount of chips in the center of the table.
"I'll raise you," Mike said, expressionless, and tossed in two red chips; worth four of the white ones.
Sadie scowled at him. "I'm not going to just drop out," she said haughtily, tossing her chips in, too. "I'm not a quitter."
"Even though you don't have a damn thing in your hand?" Mike said, laughing outright as she scowled at him. "Sadie, come on. You're just staying in because you don't want to fold."
"No, I have--I mean, maybe--damn it, Dad," she said, but she laughed, that bright, happy laugh that Mike hadn't heard in a long, long time. It made him so happy, he didn't even tell her to watch her language. "I'm staying in." She matched the bet, putting her chips in with a determined look.
"All right," Mike said with a shake of his head, and turned over another card. He now had three of a kind, and it figures he never got hands like this when he was playing for actual money. Mike took two blue chips--worth two of the red--and tossed them in the center. She could have something better, but he doubted it. "You ready to fold? Part of playing poker is to know when to quit." Mike pitched his voice low, started singing. "You gotta know when to fold 'em, know when to hold em--"
Sadie was looking at him like he was the biggest idiot on the planet. "What the hell is that?"
"Kenny Rogers? The Gambler? Jesus, you're killing me," he winced, a hand on his heart, but something dark swam in Sadie's eyes before she looked away, and Mike felt like an idiot, like he'd done the wrong thing.
But Sadie just rolled her eyes with all the theatrical talent of a sixteen year old, and said, "Fine, I'll take Mr. Kenny Loggins--"
"Rogers, Sadie. Kenny Rogers. And how the hell do you know Kenny Loggins if you don't know Kenny Rogers?"
"I've seen Top Gun, that's why. And whatever. I'll take his advice and know when to fold 'em." She tossed her cards on the table, crossed her arms, and gave him a glare that looked all too familiar. "What've you got? 'Cause I think you were bluffing."
Mike shook his head, reached over and took her cards. He shuffled hers, his, and the rest of the ones on the table together. "No way, Sade. Important rule of poker--you've got to pay to see."
Sadie looked pissed. "Wait, what? Then how do I know if you were bluffing me, or if you actually had anything?"
Mike grinned. "You don't."
"But that's--that's not fair."
Mike laughed and pushed the cards at her. "Poker's not fair, kid. Just like life. C'mon. Deal the cards."
Sadie looked at him, a little wounded, and for a second--he remembered her being six years old, running inside and winding herself around his legs, crying because she'd bet her favorite stuffed dog in a game with the neighbor and lost. Daddy, it's not fair, she'd said, sobbing against his leg. I didn't think he'd really make me give him Snuffy. Mike--well, he'd wanted to beat Jeremy Nations into a pulp, the little fucker, how dare he make his kid cry?--had picked her up, wiped her tears, and said the exact same thing. Life's not fair, kiddo. And you have to do what you say, okay? That's important.
Audrey had been pissed, of course. Later, after she'd called the Jeremy's parents and retrieved the stuffed animal, she'd confronted Mike about it. Sadie was in bed, happily clutching Snuffy and fast asleep. "Mike, she's six. You really think that's the way to handle this? She doesn't really have a concept about betting and losing, you know."
"She's gotta learn some time, Audrey," Mike had said. "Kids have to make their own mistakes. You mark my words, she'll do it again until she figures that out."
The next day, Sadie bet one of Audrey's bracelets instead of her stuffed animals, and promptly lost that, too. "See?" Audrey had groused, after yet another phone call to retrieve her jewelry. "Now she's just betting stuff that isn't hers. When I asked her why she did that, do you know what she said? Mommy, that's not mine, so I don't care if I lose it. So much for your tough love approach and learning important life lessons at six, Mike!"
Mike had wrapped his arms around Audrey and hidden his smile in her hair. It seemed like a pretty good lesson learned to him, but he was smart enough not to say that at the time.
"Dad?" Sadie drummed her fingers on the table, bringing him back to the present.
"Yeah. Okay, you have to let the person to your right cut the cards..."
They played a few more hands, and Mike won them all. Mainly because Sadie tried bluffing him, which wasn't a good idea because she tried to be entirely too serious about it and stared at him too long ("Sadie, you look like an owl."), and then she started folding when she didn't have anything. Once, she had some pretty good cards--Mike could tell, because she was getting awfully smug about it--but he had a straight, so he still won. That actually pissed her off more, because she'd been so convinced she was going to win.
"This sucks," she told him, cranky, and Mike thought she looked adorable but he was smart enough not tell her that. She'd always hated losing--board games or card games or video games, anything. "I hate playing cards with you. I'm going to play with Maddie, or Mom, so that I can win." She sank down into her chair, sulkily munching on a carrot from the bowl of vegetables next to her. (Mike wanted chips, but it wasn't worth the lecture about trans-fats and his heart.)
"Maddie's still too young for poker, and hey--your Mom's pretty good." Mike took a drink of his beer--he'd concede the carrot sticks, but poker without beer was an abomination--and laughed at her incredulous expression. "I'm not lying. She is. On one of our first dates, I took her to a party where we ended up playing poker. She won our cab fare back home." They'd needed the cab because they'd been too trashed to drive, but Mike didn't tell Sadie that part.
"Mom? Huh. I mean, she's smart, but she's so...emotional." Sadie said the word like it was a curse.
"Sadie? I don't think either one of us should ever accuse anyone of being emotional," Mike said dryly, checking his cards. He had a shit hand--he'd try to bluff her, see if she'd catch it or if she'd fold.
"Well, you know what I mean." Sadie waved her hand airily. "Her and Maddie, they're emotional and they like....talk about it." She wrinkled her nose. "I'd rather just punch something."
Mike had to restrain himself from getting out of his seat, going around the table, and hugging the breath out of her. Me too, kid. Me, too. "Well, sometimes talking is good," Mike said, in his Dad-voice, to which Sadie just huffed and turned her attention back to her hand.
"So Mom's good at poker?" she asked, studying her cards. "She didn't do the dumb girl thing, did she? Because I hate that, and I'm not doing it, not even to win."
"Nah. Your Mom's never been like that, c'mon, Sadie. You know that. She was just good at cards. Knew when to sit out, was good at telling when people were bluffing. Good bullshit detector." Which was true, but Mike was leaving out Audrey's other poker strategy--which was to wear a low-cut shirt and lean over a lot--on purpose. Mike wasn't about to cop to that one, though. If Audrey found out he'd told Sadie that, she'd probably re-marry him just so she could divorce him all over again.
"Yeah? Could she tell when you were? Bluffing, that is. Because you said you were a good player, but that it wasn't about the cards. So if you stayed in and won, then you must have bluffed a lot."
Mike met Sadie's eyes, sharp and insightful. Mike didn't look away, and they stared at each other across the table--he heard the question she wasn't asking. "Sometimes, yeah. Sometimes she could tell when I was bluffing."
"But not all the time."
Mike shook his head, didn't look away. "No. Not all the time."
The heaviness of the past months intruded again, weighing on them both, and they were mostly silent as the round continued. Mike had a crap hand but he kept playing, and Sadie matched him bet-for-bet, though, until the last card.
"Show 'em," she said, showing her cards. She had a king and ace, meaning with the cards on the table she had a pair of kings.
Mike had a seven and a two. He laid his cards down, and Sadie nodded once before leaning in to take her chips. "I thought you were bluffing," she said, and her voice was quiet. "Think I'm done with poker, Dad."
"Always a good lesson to quit while you're ahead," Mike agreed, his own voice subdued. Fuck, he was trying so fucking hard, and in hindsight--maybe teaching his kid a game where he told her--and showed her--what a good fucking liar he was--yeah, maybe not the best way to rebuild all the trust they'd lost. Jesus, he was an idiot.
But she knew, a little voice said. She knew you were bluffing. She went all the way to the end with you. She always will.
Jesus. Mike didn't know if that cheered him up, or made him feel worse.
Sadie stood up, carrying her bowl of carrots into the kitchen. Mike sat in his seat, drinking his beer, staring moodily at nothing. He wasn't sure anything bad had happened, not really, or even that he'd done or said anything wrong. It was just a vague feeling of loss, that everything between them would be shadowed by that darkness they'd so narrowly escaped, that things would never be like they used to.
He was lost in his head for a little while, and he didn't hear her come back into the room. But suddenly she was behind him, her arms wrapped around him, her chin resting on the top of his head. "Don't brood, Dad," she chided, hugging him tight. "Thanks for teaching me to play poker."
Mike smiled briefly at that. "I'm not going to get a call about you running a poker ring at school, am I?" He raised one hand and pressed it against both of hers, crossed over his chest just above his heart.
"Nah. Those idiots, most of them are too stupid to count, much less play poker." Sadie didn't move away, and Mike--he could have sat there for an hour, not moving, because this was the first time she'd hugged him since that horrible fucking night at the Farm. Oh, she'd hug him when he hugged her, which he did often--but this was the first time she'd initiated it, and it made his eyes sting.
Jesus, he loved her so much.
"Do you--do you think he's going to come looking for me?"
Mike didn't play stupid, didn't say who? "I don't--I don't know, Sadie. He might. He might realize that every goddamn cop from here to Toronto is on the lookout, and he's not exactly going to be able to blend in with that face of his. If he tries to come back here, we'll find him." Mike tilted his head and looked up at her. "I won't let him hurt you, Sadie. Not ever again."
She nodded, then said softly, "I know. And I won't let him hurt me, either." She hugged him again, tight, with all the strength in her small body. "I love you, Dad."
Mike had to swallow, hard, before could he talk. "I love you too, Sadie. You and Maddie, you're the best thing I ever did," he said simply, because it was the truth.
Sadie made a sound, suspiciously like a sniffle, but predictably her next words were more sarcastic than sweet. "Geez, Dad. Sappy much? Also, stop devaluing me as a person and calling me a thing. Where'd you learn that, anyway? Therapy? Was it like, on one of those affirmations? Do they make say it over and over, in the mirror?"
Mike went to look at her again, intending to give her the parental version of the Sweeney Glare, but he ended up laughing instead. What did he expect? She was his kid, through and through. "No. From your mother. And Caleb. A lot of people. It doesn't make you weak to tell people how much they mean to you." he said, rubbing her crossed hands with his.
Especially when you never know when it'll be the last time you ever get to say it.
Sadie was quiet, but she didn't stop hugging him. "Want to play again next week?"
"Of course. We'll play for real money. Your allowance," Mike said, and Sadie laughed and pulled away after a final hug.
"Cool. We keep doing that, I'm going to save up enough to get a car. 'Cause I'm going to win, Dad. Never doubt me." She stopped by the doorway to the kitchen and smiled at him.
"I'd never doubt you, Sadie. Never," Mike said with fierce sincerity, and her smile faltered a little. She looked away, eyes suspiciously bright. And that, Mike decided, was enough sharing for the two of them for one night. "But I'm going to kick your ass, and I'm going to treat myself to a nice steak dinner with all your allowance money."
"Dad! God, red meat is so bad for you." Sadie met his eyes again, composed, and said, "I'm going to go to my room, okay?"
"Night," Mike said, then added, "Don't stay up too late chatting online, we're going to take your sister to that convention tomorrow and we have to pick her up at eight."
"Great, a whole day with geeks dressed like British television characters, I can't wait. Why can't she like a cool show, like NCIS or Cold Case Files?"
"Sadie, your sister doesn't have to share the same interests as we--you do," Mike amended, ignoring Sadie's triumphant ha! at his slip-up. "Look, bring a book if you want. But you're going, I'm not going to suffer through four hours of a Dr. Who convention on my own, all right? I love your sister, but I don't love her hobbies. And if you tell her I said that, you won't have an allowance to lose to me at poker. Got it?"
Sadie laughed. "Yeah, got it. Night, Dad." With that, Sadie headed upstairs to her room.
He sat at the table for a few minutes, finishing his beer, and then stood up to put the cards away.