Pokergeist by Michael Phillip Cash Read Free Book Online

Bunny looking for her lost sheep is more entertaining,” Gretchen finished forlornly.
    “Your performance blew hers out of the water,” Telly assured her. Gretchen sniffed loudly, and Telly reached over to grab his glasses so he could see her better. “Gretch, I could get a job teaching.”
    That was Telly, always trying to make things better whether it was his parents, his brother, or herself—he didn’t care what he had to do to make it easier for someone else. Gretchen thought for a minute and decided impulsively to let Telly have a moment too. He loved poker, worshipped the game, the ambiance of the casino, the cool factor, as he called it. What if she encouraged his flight of fancy? Not for long, of course. He wouldn’t last—he was such a sweetheart; he couldn’t sustain that type of lifestyle. Maybe if he got it out of his system, a regular job might appeal again. What was wrong with helping Telly dream a little? She had an idea, but she had to be careful. The last time he’d gotten caught up in a poker game, he’d become a little obsessed. She would have to make sure she watched him this time and didn’t let it get out of hand. Telly was pretty steady, and she did trust that he would make the right decisions in the end. Still, everybody deserved a chance to pursue a dream, even if it wasn’t an especially practical one.
    “No, Telly.” She sat up. “One of us has to have a chance. You always wanted this. Let’s try it. Isn’t the International Series of Poker coming up in a few weeks?”
    “I’ll never make the entry fees.”
    “Use the time to see if you can win enough to enter. Maybe you can do what I couldn’t. I know what we need right now.” She got up to pad into their kitchenette.
    “It feels irresponsible. What if it doesn’t work? We don’t have much to risk.” He considered his options and shook his head. “It goes against everything my parents taught me,” Telly called out to her. He heard the freezer open, the jangle of spoons. “What are you doing?”
    Gretchen’s soft voice carried from the other room. “I agree, Tel. It doesn’t feel like real work, but you know, you could do a trial thing, only a month…”
    “Or two,” he mumbled. “I just have to make it into the Series. I need ten grand.” He spoke more to himself than to anyone else. It was his dream. If he could get into a groove, he could support them both comfortably. He hated the place where she worked, but right now, he didn’t have options.
    “I did say one month, Tel.” She was quiet for a few minutes, and then she continued. “We couldn’t support a long-term…um…experiment. I mean, I only lasted two weeks.”
    “Right,” Telly yelled and then softened his voice when he realized she was back. He made room for her on the bed. She had a pint of ice cream and two spoons: Gretchen’s cure-all.
    They dug into the ice cream, taking turns, making sure their spoons didn’t clash. Telly was nothing if not polite.
    “I don’t know. What if I lose too much?” He had never done anything so—what would he call it? Daring? Risky? His parents would have a shit-fit. He could hear them already—it’s not steady; the hours are terrible; think of the people you’d be with. Yeah, he thought with a snort, as if the straight and narrow did me any good. His face darkened.
    “Look,” Gretchen said, bringing him back. She wanted him to try this; he’d been so unhappy lately. She knew once his confidence was restored, he’d bounce back. He always did. “We’ll set a budget and a time limit. We have what…six hundred in the safe?”
    “Yeah, but that’s for emergencies…”
    “Tel. I know what it’s for. I’ll put in extra hours at the bar, and we’ll make it up. Let’s treat this like a business. It’s not a bad investment for a start-up. We only have to make enough for you to get into the Series.” Gretchen smiled. Then he’ll get it out of his system and go for a real job, she