Cookie Cutter by Jo Richardson Read Free Book Online Page A

self-control tonight tells me not to.
    “Come on, Iris.” I smile and pick up another cookie. “It’s just a game.”
    I bite into the sugary goodness, fight the urge to give her any inkling that I’m stealing the rest of what’s left later on and with that, she sits, composes herself, and says, “I need two cards.”
    She doesn’t engage with me much more after that, no matter what kind of snarky comment I make. A few hours and five more sangrias later and I’m out fifty bucks. Iris may not play poker, but she sure has a knack for it.
    “Oh come on Carter, stay a while longer,” Beatrice pouts when I announce it’s time for me to surrender for the evening.
    I laugh and wave a hand at her. “Long day tomorrow.”
    “I thought men were supposed to be able to hold their liquor better than this,” Patricia says, teasing.
    I’m not that bad off for Christ’s sake, so I point over at her. “Hey, now you’re bringing to question my manliness. I said I have a long day tomorrow, not that I’ve had a long night.”
    I sneak a peek over at Iris as I stand. She rolls her eyes as she begins to pack her things. I don’t think I’m supposed to spot the smile that’s sneaking out.
    “You too?” Cynthia protests.  “What has the world come to when the night is over at eleven PM?”
    “You know I have things on my plate tomorrow that can’t be ignored, Cynthia,” Iris says.  “I have to get up early and-”
    “I know, I know,” Cynthia says. “Here, Carter.”
    She holds out a baggy full of cookies and I wink at her, tucking them into my jacket pocket.
    “Here, let me get that.” I start over to Iris’s side of the table. She tries to carry everything she brought with her, less the cookies, plus the card table.
    “No, no, really.”
    I pick the table up by its side and tell my poker pals goodnight with a nod. “Thanks for having me, ladies.”
    “Oh no, thank you, Carter.” Cynthia bats her eyelashes and I wink back.
    They all grin from ear to ear as they wave goodbye.
    “Fine.” Iris huffs. “Bye girls.” She kisses the three women and tells them she’ll see them soon. Beatrice whispers something into her ear and I’d swear on a Bible if I owned one, Iris blushes.
    “What was that all about?” Once we’re outside on the sidewalk, well away from prying ears, I want to know what the secret it. She shakes her head and stares off into the darkness without answering me. So I change the subject.
    “You stole the last of my weekend money in there, ya know.”
    “Not stole, won. Big difference,” she says. “Besides, you can afford it; I know what that house is worth, and what you paid for it. It’s not like you’re hurting for money.”
    If I’m not mistaken, there’s a twinge of fire in her words and regardless of my curiosity as to why she might be so fired up about my owning that house. I like this Iris.
    “Why so interested in little old me, Iris?” I tease her as we approach our homes. It’s an easy way of avoiding admitting that I might actually lose money on this place. Especially if I continue playing cards with Iris.
    Mental note, never play poker with this woman again.
    “I’m not . . .” She lets the thought fade with the night, staring blankly over at her place.
    “You want me to . . .” I motion, offering to carry the card table over to the front door for her but without hesitation, she refuses this time.
    “I’ve got it from here, thanks.”
    “You sure? It’s really not that big a deal,” I say but Iris won’t hear it.  She takes the table, fights to keep everything from falling and breathes heavy.
    “It is to me.”
    And with that, she goes. I watch her and wave, even though she can’t see me.
    “Goodnight,” I say, quietly.  Then I make sure she gets inside before I go home as well.
    I take the cookies out of my pocket and set them on the counter. I remove my jacket and toss it onto the futon in the front room, then I sit down onto the edge. That’s when