Poker Night; The Big Reveal

Jonah sensed the mood at the table shift instantly and he felt an uncomfortable tightness on the back of his neck.  He watched Sam Bennett’s smile dissolve into a frown and watched Marty’s eyes fixate determinedly at his cards and nowhere else.  He heard Len suck in air and watched him shake his head and focus on the dark red wine in his glass.  Jonah looked at each of the men in turn and found them all suddenly tense, discomfited.  Ben Sinclair was blushing like a school girl and pretending to drink his whiskey sour, but his friend was openly staring beyond Jonah’s head, a slightly appreciative gleam in his eye that made Jonah’s fingers instinctively curl into fists. Next to him Caleb’s mouth was unashamedly agape as he was turned around in his seat, and Nolan swiveled to look and then quickly swiveled back,  pushing air through his lips.

Jonah knew it was Viola.  He didn’t want to see what, exactly, had caused the atmosphere to change so rapidly and so dramatically.

“You guys need anything?” She asked from behind him in a voice that made his skin crawl.

There was a ringing silence.  Several of the men looked at Jonah and then looked away.

“Honey, what are you wearing?!”  Exclaimed Caleb, at last breaking the horrendous silence.

Jonah still couldn’t bear to look.  He swallowed and tried to lick his lips but his mouth felt like cotton.

“My PJs” she chirped innocently.  “Is there any pizza left?”

Ben’s friend West hopped out of his seat and over to the side table where the pizza boxes were stacked.  “Pepperoni and some pineapple?”  He offered, a very charming smile on his handsome young face.  The boy’d had a fair amount of Jonah’s alcohol already this evening so Jonah tried to allow him some slack for hitting on his underage daughter.  He had to try very hard not to dive over the poker table and tear the boy apart.

“Thanks.  I love pineapple.”  She cooed.

West cocked an eyebrow and picked up the half-empty box of pineapple pizza. 

On either side of him he could feel Nolan and Caleb watching him expectantly.

West hadn’t made it three full strides toward Viola when Jonah rose from his seat.

The boy slowed, watching Jonah carefully.  He opened his mouth once or twice, licked his lips and then closed his mouth firmly.  With one hand he extended the pizza box toward the poker table, opting for the much safer course of action.  Ben snatched it from his friend, looking more than a little relieved his friend had enough good sense left not to cross a man about his daughter, and passed it dutifully to Caleb, who was a safe party by virtue of being Viola’s uncle.

Jonah kept his gaze as mild as he could manage and watched West unblinkingly until the young man was once again seated at the table.  Jonah could see Caleb looking from Viola to Jonah to West and back again.

“Here honey.”  He finally said quietly, standing to bring her the pizza.

Jonah reached his hand out for the box and Caleb hesitated a moment before handing it over.

With his free hand Jonah adjusted his glasses, and scratched the side of his nose before hitching a smile into place.  He looked around the table.  “Deal me out for a few hands fellas, I’ll be right back.” 

Marty nodded, still staring fixedly at his cards.  “No problem.”

“Me too.”  Said Nolan, standing.

“No.”  Jonah said, turning to meet his brother’s concerned gaze.  “No need.”  He said firmly.  Then smiled.  And took a breath.

“You sure?” Nolan asked in a low whisper, stealing a glance behind them at his niece.

Jonah closed his eyes for a shade longer than a blink and when he opened them he appeared mild and in-control.  “Absolutely.”

And then he turned around to face her. 

Jonah felt his spine stiffen and his pulse drummed in his ears.  Her pajamas?  The girl was wearing an almost undersized pair of boy-short cut underwear and one of his thin white cotton tank undershirts, and little else.  The most covered-up parts of her were the knee-high striped socks she wore.  He felt himself sway just a little and Nolan‘s hand was on his shoulder to steady him. 

“I could bet for you while you’re out of the room.”  Nolan offered lightly, trying valiantly to cover Jonah’s unsteadiness with humor.

A few of the guys laughed.  Jonah couldn’t manage to play along.  He could see the flush of her nipples right through the paper-thin cotton, make out not only the exact shape and size but the hue.  He could see the tantalizing under-curve of her breasts as if there was no fabric there at all.  And so could every man in the room.

Worse, the blush-pink boy-shorts were so skimpy and form-fitting that every soft curve below her waist was outlined in graphic detail, and, though she was facing him full-front he knew then that when she turned around a good portion of her high, firm buttocks would be on display for the whole room.

His jaw clenched and unclenched and he finally dragged his eyes to her face.  “Can I have the pizza?”  She asked sweetly, an innocent smile playing across her lips.  He realized she was wearing lipgloss and mascara too. 

He measured his pace while he walked toward her.  He knew he needed to be very, very careful with all those eyes pretending not to watch how this little episode played out.

“Of course.”  He said in an unperturbed and very dad-like voice.  “Let’s take it to the kitchen though.”

She pouted just a little bit and since his back was to the group he fixed her with an expression of deadly warning.  She raised her eyebrows and the mischievous glint in her eyes melted away.  “Ok.”  She said meekly and made a little wave at the room.  “Bye guys.”

After a breath’s hesitation a weak chorus of overly-polite goodbyes sounded behind his back.  He glared at her and gestured for her to turn and move.

Her eyes slid to the ground as she spun in place and marched out of the den.  He slammed his eyes shut for just a moment.  He’d been right about the view of her ass. Jesus Christ.

“Be right back.”  He managed pleasantly without turning around, and removed himself and the pineapple pizza from the den.  He prayed Nolan and Caleb would distract the guests, and keep them there.  He couldn’t be alone in this house with her, not now, not like this.

He followed on her heels to the kitchen where she finally spun to face him, putting one hand on the kitchen island and one defiantly on her hip.

“I want you to take this to your room and you’re to stay there for the duration of the evening.”  He said, struggling to control his temper.  He thrust the box at her.

“I’m not hungry.” She said with a pout in her voice.

He swallowed.  “You understand the way you’re dressed is completely unacceptable.”  He said quietly.  “You know that, don’t you?”

He thrust her chin out stubbornly.  “I’m in my pajamas.”  She insisted.

“You want men to stare at you?”  He asked, his voice tight and strained.

She closed her eyes. She didn’t answer.

“Viola?”  He pressed in an urgent whisper.  “Do you?  Is that what you want?  You may as well have walked in there wearing nothing at all.”  He tossed the pizza box onto the kitchen island and she jumped as it slapped resoundingly on the granite, her eyes fluttering open.  He ran both his hands through his hair several times and paced the length of the kitchen.

Neither spoke for what felt like a very long, tense, few moments.

“I just, I just…”  but she trailed off and without looking he knew she was about to burst into tears.

Fuck.  “Dammit Vi.”  He said, but he didn’t sound angry.  He sounded apologetic and he felt terribly guilty.  He crossed to her and pulled her into his arms and she half-sobbed a strangled moan into his chest.  Her tiny body shook with the effort of trying to weep silently and he rubbed her back soothingly.  She was confused, he scolded himself, she was vulnerable and lost and sick, and instead of taking care of her like he ought to have done, he’d tucked his tail between his legs and put up as many barricades as he could dream up to keep her at a distance.  He’d driven her to this stunt.  “I’m sorry.”  He said, his voice heavy with emotion.  He felt his throat close with a knot of unshed tears and he cleared his throat several times to try and dislodge it.  “I’m so sorry.” He repeated.

She shook her head back and forth against his chest and sniffled.  “I’m sorry!”  She choked out through muffled, racking sobs.

He kissed the top of her head and the smell of her shampoo brought an onslaught of explicit images to his mind, and though he squeezed his eyes tightly and shook his head he couldn’t make them disappear.  Suddenly he became acutely aware of where the curves of her small body pressed against the planes of his and he washed over hot and cold.  Every point at which their bodies touched had become erogenous zones, and the brush of her elbow over his forearm, or the slightest touch of her knee against his pant leg became instantly and profoundly erotic.

He panicked and took her by her shoulders and firmly pushed her away from his chest, unpeeling her form from his.  She looked bewildered and bereft.  God Dammit.  It wasn’t her fault he couldn’t master his own impulses.  He was punishing her when he needed to be nurturing her.  “I’m so sorry, sweetie.”  He repeated desperately and tried hard to see his little girl in front of him and not a scantily clad, vulnerable vixen.  “I need you to go upstairs and,”  He glanced at her barely-concealed body and wished he hadn’t. “And, and, and, Oh God, and put something else on, something appropriate, and and and”  Her eyes, brimming with more tears, made him want to wrap her up, lift her in his arms and carry her up to her room.  He closed his eyes deliberately.  “And please, please don’t come down again tonight—ok?” 

Of course it wasn’t ok.  They needed to talk.  They needed to process.  He needed to help her understand and navigate, and he was a fucking miserable coward for asking her to go upstairs and sit in her room like some naughty delinquent while he surrounded himself with company, drowned out the pain and shame with booze, and cards, and friends.

“If I change, can I come watch you play?”  She sounded so earnest, so hopeful.  But he remembered the expressions on his friends’ faces and firmly shook his head. 

“Not tonight love.”  He said gently. 

She looked at the ground.  “Will you come up and see me before you go to bed?”

He winced.  He was an awful father.  He hated himself.  “Do you want that?”  He asked, hoping he didn’t sound as frightened as he felt.

She nodded meekly and he dropped his hands from her shoulders in a sort-of defeat.

“Then of course I will.”  He said flatly.  “But it might be very late.”

She gave him a weak smile.  “That’s ok.”  She whispered. And then she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him.  He felt almost winded by the sudden surge and rocked back with the impact, but then wrapped his arms around her and returned the hug.  They pulled away from each other very slowly, melted away really, and their eyes met.  He kissed her forehead and met her eyes again.  Then he kissed her cheek and once more found her eyes with his.  They were each holding their breath.

He couldn’t know why or how but suddenly he was kissing her full on the lips.  She made a little gasp of surprise and hurried to meet and return the kiss.  She smelled like lavender and vanilla and her lips tasted sweet from the gloss, and they felt so soft and supple and welcoming beneath his own.  She buried her fingers into his hair and he pulled her against him, one hand splayed across almost the entirety of her small upper back, the other placed possessively between her lower back and the crest of her ass.

He plied her lips apart and slid his tongue into her mouth and almost lost his mind when her small tongue met his eagerly. 

A voice from the dining room just beyond the kitchen door made him recoil from her instantaneously and he was on the other side of the kitchen island in the space of a heartbeat. 

“Jones?”  It was Nolan.

Jonah panicked. He wiped franticly at his lips with a shaking hand, trying to scrub off any trace of her lipgloss.  His heart was thudding wildly beneath his breast and he found he couldn’t look at his daughter.  What the fuck was he doing?  He felt ready to collapse, ready to throw himself on his brother’s mercy and confess everything.

There was a knock on the double doors between the kitchen and the dining room.  “Jones?”  This inquiry was quieter.  “Everything ok in there?”

Jonah scrambled to undo the buttons of his button-down and ripped the shirt off himself, leaving him in his t-shirt.  He tossed the shirt to Viola with one hand and with the other he tucked the tip of his erection under his belt just before the door opened a fraction of the way.

“Yeah, we’re fine, you can come in.”  Jonah said, a little unevenly.

Nolan stepped in carefully, looking from Viola to Jonah and back again.  She didn’t look at him.  She was buttoning up the shirt, which was dark with her tears on one side and streaked with the dark gray of her smudged mascara. She was almost swimming in it, it was so large on her petite frame.

Caleb stepped in after Nolan and Jonah wanted to curse.  “Don’t be too hard on her Jonah,” His youngest brother said sympathetically, seeing the tell-tale rings of mascara around her eyes, the blotchy cheeks and the reddened whites of her eyes.  “It’s not her fault—those skimpy things are in fashion right now.”

Jonah raised his eyebrows.  Caleb gave his niece a supportive little rub on her shoulder.  “And God knows she’s got the body to pull it off.”  He joked.  Viola smiled even as she blushed.

“Caleb she’s fifteen.”  Nolan said so that Jonah wouldn’t have to.  This dimmed both Viola and Caleb’s expressions.

“Prudes” He said in a stage whisper, and she couldn’t suppress the giggle that bubbled up.

“Go ahead upstairs sweetheart.”  Jonah said quietly, staring at the near-empty fruitbowl on the center of the kitchen island.

“Goodnight hun- oh, don’t forget your pizza.”  Caleb smiled warmly and handed her the box helpfully.

“Thanks.”  She said quietly to her uncle.  Then, “Is it ok if I watch tv in your room?”  Jonah met her eyes for a fraction of a moment.  The last thing he needed was for her to be waiting in his bed when the house emptied.

“There’s nothing wrong with your TV.”  He said mildly and he heard Nolan suck in a breath.

She shrugged.  “Alright.”  She stood on her tiptoes to kiss her uncle Caleb.  “’Night.” She said.  Jonah watched her move to Nolan.  “’Night, Uncle Nolan.”  She said as he accepted her half-hug.

He nodded, tight-lipped.

She looked for a minute across the island but didn’t close the distance between them, for which he was enormously grateful.  “’Night Dad.” She said before turning and exiting, pizza in hand.

Both his brothers turned to him as one, their expressions almost identical.  Jonah removed his glasses and carefully squeezed the cotton edge of his tee shirt around each lens in turn, buffing out smudges.  He peered at them, deciding there were yet a few spots and he repeated the process.

“Are you about to explode?” Asked Caleb as Jonah moved to repeat the process a third time.

Jonah gave a short laugh.  “She was so embarrassed when she realized it was see-through.”  He said, and he heard his voice as if it hadn’t come out of him.  He sounded pulled, tight.

Nolan and Caleb exchanged a glance.  “Should we call it a night, d’you think?”  Nolan asked bluntly at the same time Caleb added “She knew it was see-through.”

Jonah’s head snapped up and he hastily retuned his glasses to his face.  “No, no no no, not at all- why?  Are you tired?”  He chose to pretend he hadn’t heard Caleb’s perceptive observation.

Nolan looked like he had an earful to give Jonah but he exhaled a long breath instead and then said calmly:  “Well, I think Len and the good Doctor should be just about done with their smoke break, so d’you wanna head back in there?”

Jonah nodded and started for the door.

“I love it when people do things they shouldn’t” Caleb mused, and Jonah slowed. 

“What?”  His mouth dried up again.

“I mean Sam?  A Doctor taking a cigarette break?”  He grinned.  “There’s something so forbidden about it, isn’t there?” He laughed.  He sounded as though he found it fairly erotic too.

Jonah forced an approximation of a smile. “Yeah.”

He let Caleb precede him and as he was stepping over the threshold to the dining room Nolan caught him under the elbow for the second time that evening.  “Jonah?” 

Jonah couldn’t meet his eyes, not just then, not yet.  His lips were still tingling and his tongue still felt the ghost of hers and he knew he couldn’t look at Nolan.  “Hmm?”

Nolan was quiet for a long moment and then released Jonah’s elbow.  “Nevermind.”  He said.

Jonah nodded, still looking at the ground and not at his brother’s face, and he proceeded through the darkened dining room toward the den.

Poker Night; Ben Sinclair

Ben liked Jonah Delaney, he really did, but the prospect of spending an evening playing poker with his future father-in-law always made his a little jumpy and uptight.  He’d been part of the Poker-Night group for about two years now, but he tried not to make it to every game.  He wasn’t technically related to the Delaneys yet, so it was easy enough to make excuses, send his regrets.  But he went often enough to keep Avalon happy.  And to make it look like he enjoyed the game nights.

But he’d never been over for a poker night without Avalon also present somewhere in the house.  The women never joined the men, not for poker; they played other games and such but left the men to their devices for poker nights, but at least she was there.  At least she was around.  She’d bring more pretzels in sometimes, and smile encouragingly, and give him a kiss on the cheek.  And sometimes he’d sit out a hand or two to ‘use the restroom’ and use the time to fondle her and make-out with her under her father’s roof.  That always seemed to make her hotter than hell.  Of course he’d never actually had sex with her in her father’s house; that was a line he refused to cross despite her very convincing arguments and coaxing to the contrary.  But hell yes he’d kiss her till she was desperate and take her nipples in his mouth and even reach his hand into her panties to feel how turned on she was.  He considered that his little reward for enduring poker night.

And tonight there would be no reward.  No Avalon.  No steamy indiscretions in the pantry while they could still hear her father’s voice in the other room.  No, tonight would really be a guy’s night.  Ben would almost rather slam his balls in the refrigerator door.

But Jonah had called and been very persistent.  “C’mon Ben, I know you’re like me—you don’t have plans when your lady’s out of town!”

Well he’d certainly sound suspicious if he argued that point.  What was he supposed to say: “Oh Gee Mr. Delaney, actually I love to make plans when your daughter is out of town.”

So he’d capitulated.  He was going to poker night.

But he was bringing his best-man along.  West Bryant hadn’t been easy to convince.

“Are the twins going to be there?”  His friend had an unhealthy obsession with twins.  And with the Delaney twins in particular as he’d slept with one of them and had since made it his goal to have both of them, preferably at once.

“Sorry, no, they’re out of town.”  Ben sincerely wished he could have lied, but West could always sniff out deception on Ben as they’d been friends since middle school and Ben wasn’t a terrific liar.

“Fuck no, then.”

“West, if you don’t go I’ll let slip that you fucked one of the guy’s daughters.”

West had just laughed.  “You’re too much of a pussy for a move like than Ben.”

Ben supposed he was right.

“Please West?  I’ll owe you one.”

“Talk to that pretty little sister-in-law for me and I’ll consider it.”

Ben groaned inwardly.  “Which one?”  He asked, feeling slightly queasy.

“The other one, the one… Vienna.”  But West didn’t sound entirely sure.

“You don’t remember which one of them you slept with?!”  Ben loved his best friend but the guy continually astonished him with how appalling he could be sometimes.

“It was your engagement party, I was fairly inebriated.”  He defended himself.  “Which one was wearing the blue sparkles, the mini dress?”

Ben paused, trying to remember.  They’d posed for pictures… “Geneva.”  He responded at last, fairly confident that Genny had been in blue and Vienna had been in yellow.  But really?  He wasn’t sure.  He just wanted to sound confident enough to appease his friend.

“See?”  West was triumphant.  “I was right.”

“Congratulations.”  Ben said flatly.  “Will you come?”

“Oh, I always come.”

“Shut the fuck up, will you play poker tonight?”

West laughed at his own little jest and then agreed.  “But I have your word?”

Ben sighed.  “Yes West.”  He said, a patronizing sort of tone coloring his response.  “I’ll speak to my barely-legal soon-to-be sister-in-law and mention that my friend would like to complete the set and would she mind fucking him so his fantasy will come true?”

There was a silence on the line.  Ben pulled the phone away from his ear to see if the call had been dropped.  He heard his friend begin to speak just as he was putting the phone back to his head.

“Can you try to see if she’d be interested in bringing the other one?”

“You’re a sick fuck. I’ll see you at eight?”

“Yeah, ok.” West sounded contemplative but he’d said yes and that’s all Ben had wanted. 

“Thanks.”  He closed his phone hastily, afraid to have to hear more perverted requests in exchange for his friend’s presence that evening.

And so, at about eight fifteen that evening he was clapping his best friend on the back and welcoming him over to his fiancee’s house for a night of poker with men twice their age.

“Where the fuck is Grey?” West whispered an aside to him as they moved to the den to get started.  Grey usually attended these shindigs but was conspicuously absent.  Ben didn’t care much for Avalon’s arrogant cock of a brother but at least he was his contemporary.  Grey, along with his best friend Phelan, served as a great buffer for reducing Ben’s awkwardness around Avalon’s uncles.

“I dunno.”  Ben confessed, feeling more harassed by the second. “Jonah said Grey couldn’t make it, but he didn’t elaborate.”

“Fuck me in the ear.”  West said.  West liked Grey Delaney and Phelan Ward and had likely only agreed to come to this poker game because he knew he stood a good chance of having a laugh with them around.  Now he was stuck with a bunch of middle-aged men and his mild-mannered best friend and no twins.  “Maybe you should call some of the other guys?”

Ben swallowed.  “I tried Ethan, but you know, West, this isn’t my little party, I can’t just go inviting all my buddies over to some other guy’s house.”

“Pussy.” 

Ben felt a bit like a pussy.  “All the free booze you want though, as usual.”

West sighed and shrugged.  “I’m gonna need it.”

Ben thought he might need it too.  His future father-in-law was behaving a little strangely, and on top of that the man had invited Ben’s uncles over too.  Now Ben liked his uncles, but his family wasn’t quite the same as the Delaneys.  Grey’d been raised as one of the guys, was comfortable hanging out with his uncles and dad, but in Ben’s family the generations just didn’t mix as well and he always felt like a little kid around his uncles, never their equal.

But his mom’s brothers had grown up across the street from the Delaney brothers, they’d all gone to school together, they had been friends for decades.  In fact, they were close enough friends of the family that Avalon and her siblings called them Uncle Marty and Uncle Sam just like he did. Ben wished for the thousandth time that he’d managed to think up a viable excuse and not come.

By eight-forty-five they were finally all settled in and ready to start playing.  Drinks had been poured and in some cases re-poured, food had been thrown together from whatever the kitchen had to offer in Velvet’s absence and, finding that lacking, a few pizzas had been ordered. 

One of Avalon’s other ‘uncles’, her Uncle Len, shuffled and dealt.  West flashed his friend a grin.  West was happy he wasn’t the only black man at the table.  Ben rolled his eyes.

“So, Jonah, I’m sorry.  I might’ve missed it, but where’s Grey this evening?”  Ben’s Uncle Sam asked, pulling his cards toward him.

“Happy you might actually make it home with some money left?” It was Nolan who spoke.

Everyone laughed a little. 

“The thought had crossed my mind.”  Sam admitted, examining his cards shrewdly.

“Mine too.”  Uncle Marty added with an easy smile.

“It crossed all our minds.”  Said Len smoothly.

Jonah smiled and Ben thought it looked a little forced.  “He had a date I think. I couldn’t reach him.”

All the men nodded.  Grey loved poker but he loved chasing ass more.

Ben lifted the edges of his cards just enough to see he had a shitty chance.  He sucked at poker anyway, and it didn’t help that he almost never seemed lucky enough to get dealt decent cards.  He was looking at a four and a seven off-suited.  With a small sigh he called when it came around to him.

“Maybe you’ll be able to pull together enough scratch to cover this fairy-tale wedding the ladies are planning, Jonesie.”  Caleb grinned, and sucked on his third dark rum drink.

Jonah’s eyes flicked to Ben and he smiled kindly.  “My wife never got to have her fairy-tale wedding, Ben, so I’m afraid she’s living vicariously through the two of you.”

Ben smiled back weakly.  It was getting a little out of hand.  He had begun to hate anything and everything that had to do with dresses and tuxes and flowers and invitations and seating arrangements and gowns and shoes and groomsmen, and it was getting to the point where he was living for the honeymoon.  He’d be more than happy just whisking his fiancée away and marrying her in a private little ceremony and then showering her with affection on some tropical island for two weeks.

He was already tired of it and it was still months away.

“Ah, don’t look so worried Ben!” Nolan grinned widely.  “It’s going to be a cozy affair compared to the spectacle of my wedding.”

All the men at the table groaned and nodded, some laughed.  Ben remembered that wedding, he’d been there, he’d been a boy, but he’d been there.  “Did you…?”  He paused, thinking for a moment, “Am I misremembering, or did you ride a horse?”  It seemed like maybe he’d dreamt that or something, spliced actual events together with a memory from a movie or something.

The older men laughed heartily.  Nolan Delaney nodded almost ruefully.  “I did indeed Ben, I did indeed.”

“Yeah, and the horse was the compromise—they wanted him to ride in on a mothafucking Elephant.”  Lennox said with a grin.

Ben laughed a little with the others.  Nolan’s wedding had been a very large and interesting affair as he’d married a woman from a very traditional Hindu family.  There had been literally thousands of attendees at the event.  It had been too big even for the pavilion and the town park—it had been held in the city at the sports arena.

“I guess our guest list doesn’t seem so bad afterall.”  Ben said, remembering the overwhelming numbers garbed in bright, vibrant colors.  There was some appreciative laughter.

“That was a great fucking wedding.”  Ben’s Uncle Sam said, and sipped from his bottled beer.  “Wild.”  He added.  “But great.”

“Remember how much fun all the women had dressing in those, what the hell are they called?”  Marty asked Nolan.

“Sarees.”  He answered and threw a chip to the center of the table.

“Velvet went crazy over those.”  Jonah agreed, and added a matching chip to the pile.  “She ordered a different color for each of the girls.”

Ben remembered the females wearing those exotic wrap style dresses.  He closed his eyes and tried to remember Avalon.  He’d been twelve, so she would have been eight or nine.  He couldn’t really remember.  He’d been far more interested in the full-breasted members of Nolan’s wife’s exotic family to really pay attention to little kids.  Even his mother had worn one, a saree, and it had struck Ben as the strangest thing he’d ever seen.  His mother almost never wore anything but slacks and a fitted button-down.  It was practically a uniform.

“What colors have you decided on?”  Caleb asked Ben, throwing a chip and then another to the center.  He meant ‘what colors has Avalon chosen’ but he’d kept up the pretense that Ben had any say whatsoever.

“Um, I’m not certain.”  Ben answered and he could feel West trying not to grin beside him.  West had firm opinions on bridezillas and had wagered a lot of money on how these wedding plans would go down.  “I know her mom wants, um, light purple…”  Was it lilac or lavender or violet?  Ben really didn’t know, and didn’t want to say the wrong one because he had the feeling that while the three hues were virtually indistinguishable to him, Avalon’s uncle would not see them the same way.

“What the fuck’s he care about colors?”  Asked Len.

“Yeah, what you should be asking is: what are his plans for the bachelor party?”  His Uncle Marty was smiling a taunting smile across the table at him.

Ben’s eyes widened and he couldn’t help the reflexive glance he stole toward Jonah, before he forced himself to focus on the two shitty cards he was holding.  He should fold.  Fuck.  If he folded now he’d look like he was afraid to discuss the bachelor party in front of Avalon’s family.  He was, a little, but he didn’t want them to know that so he threw in the two chips required to stay in.

“Don’t ask him,”  Said West to his right, “Any and all inquiries about said party should be addressed to the best man.”

Fuck.  Ben swallowed and hoped the blush he could feel creeping up his neck wasn’t obvious.  Silently he begged West to keep things appropriate.  Please let him be vague and not too suggestive and not vulgar and, Oh God, why the fuck had he dragged West along?  Why the fuck were they talking about weddings at a poker night?

West threw in three chips and a few people grumbled a little. 

“Maybe Jonah should leave the room.”  Teased Caleb lightly.

Jonah took a moment before responding.  “Hmm?  Oh. Ha.”  He gave a short little laugh.  Ben squirmed in his chair a bit and reached for his drink. 

“Oh that’s nothing.”  Said Len.  “Delaney, tell the kid what you had to endure for your father-in-law.”  The man laughed a deep, full belly laugh which Jonah joined after a moment and Nolan groaned.

“I still have trouble looking that man in the face sometimes.” Nolan said in a dead-pan.

“Is this the, uh, oh yeah, I think I know this one.”  Sam said and folded.  “I’m gunna grab another; anyone?”  Ben’s Uncle Marty nodded and tossed in the ante.  Sam stretched and moved toward the mini-fridge hidden in the sideboard.

“What happened?”  Ben asked more out of politeness than interest, but very glad they were moving away from his bachelor party as a subject of discussion.  He shot West a dire glare of warning, to which West just shrugged, smiled, and took a healthy sip of his beverage.

“So there’s this week-long festival of events and gathering leading up to the actual wedding,” Nolan explained hastily.

“Yeah, be grateful you don’t have to do all that.”  Inserted Marty.

Nolan smiled.  “And one of the rituals, one of the customs is to go over to the bride’s father’s house so that he can formally, well, ‘give his daughter away to her chosen’.”  Ben blanched a little but tried to smile pleasantly. 

Jonah saw Ben’s face and smiled kindly as he adjusted his glasses and looked away.  Ben was grateful that Jonah hadn’t continued to watch him.

“So Zahra had prepared me for most of it; there’d be a symbolic ritual with water poured from a pitcher to symbolize purity—“

Len laughed richly. 

“—Shut up Len.  Um, and I had to let some of her cousins steal my shoes and hide them—“

“Whaaat?”  West asked.

“Yeah, and then Zee said I’d have to repeat certain phrases and make three promises and there’d be a prayer or two and a fruit and that would be that.”

“All in front of a big crowd of her relatives.”  Jonah added, leaning back in his chair and turning his scotch glass slowly in his long fingers. 

“Right.”  Confirmed Nolan with a smile. “So there I am, shoeless, nervous, but eager to get it right, and her father starts asking me these questions.”  Ben shivered a little, grateful that he wouldn’t have to endure something so awkward and foreign.  “First he asks if I’ll assist his daughter in achieving dharma.  Ok, no problem.  I promise.  Then the next one is, shit I forget the word, but it’s prosperity.  Do I promise to help her achieve prosperity.  Yes, I promise.”  Nolan smiled and paused for a drink of wine.  “Now Zee had said the third one was sort of like ‘obey’, so I’m thinking, ‘this isn’t so different, this is basically love, honor and obey, richer and poorer sort of stuff.”

All the older men began to chuckle.  Caleb, West and Ben exchanged glances.  They’d never heard this apparently infamous story.

“So he looks at me, Zee’s father, and her brother is right there too, like, behind the guy’s shoulder and the fucker is grinning at me now, and Her father gives me this look and asks me if I promise to, you know, help her achieve Kama, or help fulfill the Kama, I forget just how he phrased it, but there was something in his tone, and the way her brother was looking at me that, uh, gave me pause.” Nolan cleared his throat and smiled down at the poker table.

“All of a sudden this fucker’s thinking: wait a minute, what’s the joke?”  Len said, through his own laughter.

“Because the energy in that room shifted, and it was as if all her relatives were waiting to see how Nolan reacted.” Jonah added, “I got the sense that they were curious since he was such a westerner.”

Nolan laughed a little.  “I look at Zee and she’s having a little trouble meeting my eye.  Now I’m really nervous.  I turn back to her father and he repeats the question.  I don’t know what to do; so I ask him to tell me what it means.”

“What???”  Caleb breathed.  “Why didn’t you just say yes?”

“I couldn’t! All of a sudden I realized I didn’t know what they were saying and I didn’t want to make a promise without knowing what the hell I was promising!” Nolan explained and took another drink.

“Holy shit, you never heard so much laughing.”  Len said merrily.

“I thought Zee was going to melt into a puddle.  Her father asks her why she hadn’t explained it to me and she just, oh god, she looked like she wanted to disappear.”

Ben shifted a little, eager to hear what the promise would be.

“So her father, the father of the girl I want to marry, then has to explain to me that I must promise to fulfill his daughter uh, sensually.”  Ben cocked his head.  Had he heard wrong? “Promise to assist her in sexual pleasure and keep her satisfied and gratified in that, um, arena.”  Even though it had been years ago, Ben watched a slight flush enhance Nolan’s cheeks. 

“No shit!”  West exclaimed, his mouth open and smiling.

“What the hell did you do?”  Gushed Caleb, leaning forward.

“Yeah.”  Nolan nodded.  “See, for them it’s part of the ritual, it’s a foundational pillar, and all that, but they all knew, they knew that having to promise this to her father would make ‘whitey’ all uncomfortable and they were really having a good time with me.  I’m pretty sure her father went into more detail than he needed to just to see how much I’d squirm.”

“He looked like he was ready to explode, he wanted to laugh so much, but he held his shit together, and he stared this nervous mother fucker down cold.”  Said Len. 

“What did you do?  What did you say?”  Caleb repeated eagerly.

“What the hell else could I do?  Without this ceremony there is no wedding.  This isn’t like some of the others, this one is pretty fucking important.  So I look the man in the eye, feel my ballsack shrink a fair amount, and promise to do everything in my power to help her achieve Kama.”

Len roared with laughter and Jonah looked like he might split his face open he was grinning so wide.  Sam and Marty had a good laugh too, as did West and Caleb.  “That is fucked up.”  Said West decisively.

Ben agreed but didn’t say anything.  He couldn’t look in Jonah’s direction.  Holy Christ.  What would he ever do if he had to stand before Jonah and promise to please the man’s daughter sexually?  He really, sincerely thought he might not have asked her to marry him if that were part of the ceremony.

“Yeah, they all had a good laugh, I survived, I promised Zee she’d pay for not warning me properly about that one, and we all had a fun night.”  Nolan received healthy pats on the back from both Jonah and Len, who sat on either side of him, before meeting the ante with another chip.

“Yeah, yeah yeah.”  Said Nolan.  “One bright side is that someday I’ll get to torture some poor guy the same way.”

“Oh shit!”  Laughed Marty.  “Christ Nolan, you have two daughters—you’d better start saving up now—they’ll bankrupt you.”

Amid the laughter Ben heard Nolan groan.  “Maybe we oughtta raise the blinds here.  Forget Jones, I need the money!”

“So Jonesey,” Caleb said sweetly after Jonah had met the ante, “I don’t suppose you’ll torture young Mr. Sinclair the same way?”

Nobody laughed harder than West, the Benedict Arnold, and Ben could feel eager eyes upon him.  Ben wished again that he hadn’t come.

Jonah didn’t answer right away, but Ben refused to look at him, so he had no idea if the man was smiling or scowling or what.  He held his breath.

And was literally saved by the bell.  The pizza had arrived and the doorbell sounded like sweet relief.  He jumped up, eager for the distraction.  “I’ll get this!”  He said, and practically sprinted for the door.  “I fold!” He heard a great deal of laughing behind him as he went.  Fucking poker nights.