Poker Night; Caleb Delaney

The door swung inward to reveal Jonah Delaney sporting a wide smile and open arms.   “Glad you could make it!”  He enthused, and wrapped his arms around his youngest brother in a vigorous hug.

Caleb grinned.  “Glad you called!”  He responded genuinely.  He loved poker nights at his brother’s. 

“You by yourself tonight?”  Jonah asked after releasing the hug and peering out the open door into the bitter January night.

Caleb smiled.  “Short notice.”  He said simply.  He didn’t want to get into it.  Not tonight.  He just wanted to relax, have a good night, and forget about finding his boyfriend in their bed with another guy the week before.  He hadn’t told his family yet, and he certainly wasn’t ready to drop that bomb this evening.

His brothers knew he’d been ready to make a commitment with Gideon.  They’d been dating for two years.  They’d been living together for six months.  He didn’t want to think about it.

“Too bad.”  Said Jonah lightly.  “Can I take your coat?” 

Caleb unbuttoned his winter peacoat as Nolan walked into the foyer, shrugging off his own outerwear.  Nolan nodded in a friendly but distracted kind of way.  “Hey.”

Jonah took both the coats, and, whistling an overly-jaunty tune moved to the hall closet to hang them up.

“No Gideon?”  Nolan asked Caleb while his eyes followed Jonah’s every move.

Caleb raised one eyebrow, noting his brother’s obvious distraction.  “Nah, I’ve got him handcuffed to the headboard and couldn’t be bothered to find the key.”

“That’s too bad.”  Nolan answered.  “Listen, I think something’s up with Jonah.”  He said in a low voice, at last turning to look at his brother.

Caleb just stared for a minute, not sure whether he was more amused or irritated.  “Like what?”  He whispered conspiratorially.

“Wait, what did you say?” Nolan shook his head a little and blinked.

“I said:” Caleb cleared his throat and then over-annunciated the next bit as though he were re-delivering a cue line in some awful community theatre production. “Like What?”  He completed the effect by throwing his hands up in an exaggerated question pose.

Nolan rolled his eyes.  “What did you say about Gideon?”  He didn’t bother concealing his mounting irritation.  This was going to be a fun night, Caleb thought to himself sourly.

“Nothing.”  Caleb said, smiling despite his strong urge to scowl.  “A joke.”

Nolan stared at him.  Jonah had finished with the coats and wandered back over to his brothers and clapped them both affectionately on the shoulders.  “Thanks for coming!”  He declared.

Oh.  Caleb understood a little better now.  Now that he saw the slightly manic expression hiding behind his brother’s chipper façade.  His, well, something seemed unsettled.

Caleb exchanged a quick glance with Nolan before meeting his eldest brother’s over-bright smile with one of his own.  Let Nolan play the stormcloud and see how far that got him.  Caleb’s tactic was always to go for cheer and humor and see what that drew out of people.  In his experience moody stares and urgent questions tended to shut people down more often than it got them talking.

“So, wait, I’ve been in the house five minutes and haven’t had my cheeks kissed—where is that lovely wife of yours?”

Jonah’s head tilted to the side, his smile never moving, and he began to head toward the den.  Caleb and Nolan followed along.  “Oh I thought I mentioned—she and three of the girls are upstate checking out some resort.  Can I get you a drink?”

“No, I’ll get my own, thanks.”  He responded warmly.  “What sort of resort?”

Jonah shrugged and looked around the room, searching.  “I, well, I’m not exactly sure, I have the name written down in the kitchen I think-ah!”  He’d found what he was looking for and strode purposefully over to where he’d left his scotch.  “It’s a possible new wedding venue.”  Jonah concluded, scotch well in hand.

Then Caleb knew precisely where they’d gone.  “It’ll cost you an arm and a leg.”  He said with a wink.  “I recommended it to them.”

“Thanks for the help.” Jonah joked.

“Anytime.”  Caleb moved to the sideboard and tried to pick his poison.  He normally didn’t like to drink too much, and hardly ever made his own drinks when he did indulge.  He’d been a very heavy club drinker through college and his mid-twenties, and had finally settled down and swore off the stuff for a while.  Now he drank socially, but didn’t really have any stand-out favorites.  Except mojitos.  But he had no clue how to make those.  He imagined it was complex.

“Nole, what’s in a Mojito?”  Nolan had been a bartender for a long time.

His brother approached the sideboard casually, but kept his gaze almost glued to Jonah, who was pulling out the handsome wooden case of poker chips from a games chest along the far wall.

Nolan ran a glance over the selections.  “You don’t have what you need.” 

Caleb ground his teeth together.  Nolan had an infuriating habit of answering questions like that.

“I didn’t ask if I had the ingredients, I asked what are the ingredients?” 

Nolan looked at him, his eyebrows raised.  “You need cane sugar syrup and mint so you can’t make one.”

Caleb tried to smile sweetly.  Nolan looked faintly apologetic.  “Try a rum & gingerale with lime.”  He said.  “You don’t think he’s acting funny?”

“Hi Uncle Caleb!” Caleb spun toward the voice of his niece and grinned.  He’d always adored Viola, ever since she was a tiny toddler she’d been sassy, dramatic, and adorable to buy clothes for. 

Jonah began to choke, he’d apparently just had a sip of scotch and been startled by Viola’s entrance.  Nolan, Caleb and Viola looked at him.  “You alright?” Caleb called.  Jonah gave a thumbs up, sputtered for a moment or too, trying to smile all the while. 

“Fine, fine, went down the wrong pipe.” 

Viola looked concerned, Nolan’s eyes narrowed sharply and Caleb just shrugged.

“Hi Honey!”  He said, satisfied that his brother would survive the incident, opened his arms to receive a hug from Vi and then exchanged a set of cheek kisses with the petite little thing.  “You didn’t want to go to the resort?”  He asked admiring her new swoop bangs.  “Bangs look great.” 

“Thanks!”  She grinned and touched them a little self-consciously.  “Um, no, I wanted to stay home.”

Caleb clicked his tongue and raised a judgmental eyebrow at her.  “Let me tell you, that place is to die for, you are missing something exquisite.”  He turned back to the liquor.  “Rum and what now?”

“Rum-- no, do the dark,” Caleb’s hand moved from the clear bottle to the brown one.  “No, not the spiced—“  Nolan practically slapped Caleb’s hand away from the pirate-y looking rum.

“But Mojitos are clear.” He argued, feeling a bit like a scolded child.  And he hadn’t known that there existed un-spiced dark rum.  He cursed whatever bug had decided this would be a good night to crawl up Nolan’s ass and expire.

“You can use light rum if you want, but try this first.  Ice.”

Viola moved toward the sideboard and opened the concealed Calder mini-fridge with an eager-to-please smile.  She fished out several cubes and Caleb hustled to get a high-ball glass ready to receive it.

Nolan poured a measure of the tawny rum over the ice then asked Viola to grab a ginger-ale for him which she did promptly, dipping back into the mini-fridge.  Caleb watched the ratio but was certain it was an alchemy he’d never be able to grasp.  “Jonah, limes?”  Nolan called behind him.

“What?” Jonah was pulling colorful chips out of the case and setting them up on the poker table.

“I’ll go grab one.”  Viola bubbled and jaunted in the direction of the kitchen.

“And a small knife?”  Nolan called.  Caleb heard the muted “uh-huh” that confirmed the girl had heard the tacked-on directive.

“So what do you think it is?”  Caleb asked in a spare whisper, keeping his back to Jonah and the poker table, pretending to examine a bottle of gin.

Nolan shook his head and his face was dark.  “I wish I knew brother.  I wish I knew.”  They locked eyes for a minute.  “Where’s Gideon really?”  Nolan asked, his voice softer.

Caleb half-rolled his eyes and licked his lips before putting on a dazzlingly charming smile.  “It was short notice.  He couldn’t make it.  No big deal.”  But he couldn’t meet Nolan in the eye for that whopper so he focused on a fascinating bottle of port on the sideboard.  “Who drinks port?” he asked with a bit of a sneer.

“Old men.” Responded Nolan automatically. “So he’ll be at the next one?” 

Caleb looked at the wall.  He didn’t want to talk about this. Fuck Nolan’s goddamn spidey-sense about this shit.  He’d never been able to hide relationship troubles from his older brother.  Hell, when he’d come out he’d come out to Nolan first and Nolan had been fucking great about it.  He’d said he’d already guessed it, but not in a cruel way, in a really cool-older-brother sort of way.  And Nolan had offered to be there, at his side when he needed to tell his parents.  Nolan had fixed him up with his first serious boyfriend and that had been a really good relationship. 

“Yeah, well I think so—he might have to do something for work, I’m not sure—“ Caleb rushed to change the subject “—hey, did he say anything that made you think?? Or is it just because he’s acting a little bit like a lunatic right now?”

Caleb could feel Nolan looking at him for a long moment.  He had his proverbial fingers crossed that he could throw Nolan off the scent by focusing on whatever the hell was going on with Jonah.  Caleb chanced a look at Nolan, who was staring at him skeptically.  “You want to talk?”  His brother asked him, trying not to appear stretched thin between the disastrous relationships of his two brothers.

“No.” said Caleb, deciding not to play this charade with Nolan anymore.  The guy knew, he knew something was up so why keep up the pretense?  “I really do not.”

Nolan took a deep breath in, held it for a moment and then let it out slowly as he nodded.  “Ok.”  He said simply.  “Let me know when you do.”

Caleb gave him a half smile in thanks.

“Here’s the lime!” Viola announced as she pranced back into the room.  Behind him Caleb heard the sound of probably half the poker chips crashing to the floor.  A glance over his shoulder confirmed.

“You alright?” Nolan demanded.

“Fine, yeah, clumsy.”  Jonah laughed almost nervously. 

“I’ll help!”  Viola said, tossing the lime to Caleb and starting toward the table.

“Nope, no, I’ve got it, thanks, help your uncles.” And he waved her off.

Her shoulders slumped a little and she hesitated a moment before turning back to the sideboard.  She held out a small paring knife.  “The knife.”

Nolan looked downright exasperated with Jonah.  He huffed and snatched the knife from Viola with a gruff “Thank you.”

She raised her eyebrows and made a face to Caleb who chuckled appreciatively.

Nolan deftly sliced the lime and squeezed one eighth into the drink before garnishing the glass with another slice.  He grabbed a small plastic stirrer and mixed the drink up before handing it, along with a cocktail napkin to Caleb.  Old habits die hard. 

“And what’s this called again?” Caleb asked, swirling the diminutive straw around the softening ice cubes.

“Rum and Ginger Ale with lime.”  Said Nolan distractedly as he observed Jonah.

“That’s awfully boring.”  He replied.  He liked a drink with a good name.  He liked all the fun and tongue-in-cheek names that they gave cocktails.  When he was in college he enjoyed ordering all those ridiculous drinks just for the names.  Fuzzy Navel, Sex on the Beach, Kamikaze, Scorpion Bowl, White Russian, Black Russian, Grasshopper.  He’d likely tried every drink with a fun name out there at least once.  Then, he had been a very attractive young man in those days and he’d had drinks purchased for him left and right, so what did he care?  His lips tugged down at the corners as the image crossed his mind of Gideon paying for that attractive young man’s drinks somewhere.  He blinked, trying not to think of the moment he’d found the two of them in bed together, trying not to see his lover’s mouth on that other man.

 “I think it’s called a Dark & Stormy.”  Nolan said after a thoughtful moment, “But no one calls it that anymore.”

“A Dark & Stormy.”  Caleb smiled.  Well that’s what he’d call it.  Why be so clinical when mystery and intrigue could be had?  He liked Dark & Stormy.

“Yeah, but nobody calls it that.” The doorbell rang. Caleb shrugged.  “I’m serious K, if you order that at a bar your bartender isn’t going to know what the hell you’re talking about.”

Jonah grinned at the room.  “I’ll get it.”

Viola trailed after him.

“Well, then I’ll have to explain it to him and it might make for an amusing little conversation starter.”

Nolan couldn’t help but smile.  “I loved that.”  He said.  “As a bartender.”

Caleb was a little surprised.  He imagined that sort of thing would wear on a person.  But, then, Nolan loved people.  “Did it intrigue you?”

He laughed and some of the storminess melted away.  “Yeah, actually, it always did.” He smiled for a minute.  “That’s how I know what this one’s called.”

Caleb’s eyes went into soft focus for a moment as he pictured what kind of man might have strolled into the bar and ordered a ‘Dark & Stormy please, two limes.’

“Was he tall and swarthy and dressed like Humphrey Bogart in the Maltese Falcon?”

Nolan grinned.  “She was short and withered and dressed like Edith Head.” 

Caleb’s lip curled in minor revulsion.  Then he added, “I knew a Queen at the Ren fair that went by the name Edith Head.”  He flashed his brother a sly smile.

Nolan laughed loudly and clapped his brother on the back affectionately.  “I’m glad you came tonight.”  He said genuinely.

Caleb returned the smile.  “Me too.”