Chapter 11 Poker for Pills

Officer Martin had barely cleared the door when Tiare said, “Okay, ladies. We’re behind schedule. Let’s get this show on the road.”

She hurried behind the bar and opened the fridge. The other women moved in to help bring out the food and set it on the bar, buffet-style.

“Can I do something?” I asked the room in general.

“Here.” Violet handed me a bag of potato chips and a bowl of creamy-looking dip. “Set these out.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t bring anything,” I said. “I didn’t know—”

“That’s okay,” Tiare said. “Tonight, you’re our guest.”

Romy made his way toward the door. “Enjoy the game, ladies.”

“Good night, everybody,” Esther waved, following right behind Romy.

“Esther?” I said with a touch of desperation in my voice. “Aren’t you staying?”

She stopped and turned around. “Gamblin’s against my religion. I’m gonna call it a early night. But you all have fun.”

Gambling is technically against my religion, too. But we weren’t playing for money, so that probably made it less of a sin. I could hardly back out now after I’d promised Tiare and Violet. I stifled a resigned sigh. “Okay. Goodnight, Esther.”

“I’ll be up till ten,” Romy called from the doorway. “Let me know if you ladies need anything.”

“Thanks, Romy. Goodnight,” a few of the women called to his retreating back.

Francesca deftly uncorked two bottles of white wine while the other women finished setting up the buffet. Everyone lined up and started filling paper plates. Tonight’s fare was finger food: chips and dip, edamame, sushi, chicken wings, carrot and celery sticks, slices of Kaulana’s Bundt cake, and more of Sylvie’s brownies.

I grabbed a brownie and bit into it while I worked my way down the food line. I had a feeling I was going to need it.

The women settled around the large oval poker table. Tiare pointed to an empty chair “Lillian, you can sit in Imogene’s place.”

“No,” said Coralee. “I want Lillian next to me so I can show her how to play.”

“But that’s my seat,” Sylvie said.

“Go sit in Imogene’s seat,” Coralee ordered.

Sylvie said, “But I don’t want—”

“Quit your whining, Sylvie,” Tiare barked. “Maybe a different place at the table will change your luck.”

“Come, Lillian,” Coralee said, patting the chair beside her. “I’ll explain the rules as we go.”

Pouting, Sylvie lowered herself onto a chair at one end of the table. I sat between Coralee on my left and Mae on my right. One chair, presumably Pearl’s, remained empty. Friendly banter flew back and forth as wine bottles were passed and glasses filled.

Mae leaned to me and said, “Did you try the teriyaki wings, Lillian?”

“Oh—I’m a vegetarian.”

“Seriously?” Violet asked. “You don’t eat any meat?”

Coralee said, “I don’t know how you can do that. I’d starve without protein.”

There was no used pointing out that all plant material is protein.

“In Germany vee eat meat three times a day,” Francesca said, making fast work of a chicken wing and leaving the bones on the side of her plate.

Violet passed a wine bottle to Coralee.

“Chardonnay, Lillian?” Coralee asked.

“Thank you.”

She filled a glass for me and passed the bottle on.

Tiare extracted a well-used deck of cards from her purse. “Let’s play.” She plunked an orange plastic prescription bottle onto the table.

Coralee got out two similar bottles. I tried to peer at the labels, but couldn’t make out the small print.

Kaulana, Tiare, and Mae set out prescription bottles. Francesca and Sylvie must’ve been the big winners in previous games. They each had quart-size Ziplocs filled with dozens of multi-colored tablets and capsules.

Eying the quantity of drugs that had appeared on the table made me recall what the detective said about Pearl. She’d had a significant amount of Valium in her system when she died—and she’d been drinking. Had she won the drug at a poker game?

“What’ve you got, Lillian?” Coralee asked.

“Huh?”

“What kind of pills did you bring?”

“Oh—let me get them.”

The women fell silent, all eyes on me as I rummaged through my purse. “The only prescription I have is for stool softeners,” I said with an embarrassed shrug, producing a small white bottle. “Left over from a small surgery—”

Everyone chimed in at once: Oh wow … Wonderful … That’s perfect … Fantastic … Exactly what we need …

Above the chatter, Coralee said, “I’m gonna win me some of those.”

“Me too,” said Sylvie, patting her Ziploc. “All these benzos have me backed up something awful.”

“You’re not kidding,” said Violet.

“Ante up,” Tiare said, pushing a white caplet to the center of the table. “Percocet.”

Francesca said, “Zanax,” around the chicken wing she was gnawing and added another pill to the kitty.

Kaulana put in a small yellow tablet. “I’m not sure what this one is.”

Sylvie selected a small white pill from her Ziploc and added it to the others. “Oxycontin.” She popped a pill into her mouth and swallowed it with a slug of wine. I hoped it was just an aspirin. Mixing marijuana edibles, prescription drugs, and alcohol couldn’t be a good idea. No one else took notice.

Before I could say anything to Sylvie, Coralee turned to me. “This is how it works. Regular strength pills count as one. Double and triple strength count as two and three, and so on.”

Between the magic brownie and the glass of wine, my concentration wasn’t all it could’ve been. I nodded as if I understood, figuring I’d catch on as the game progressed. Or not.

“For example,” she explained, “blue Adderals are double the dosage so they’re worth two. White Oxycontin are three, the yellow Oxycontin four, and so on.” She stuck a pill in her mouth and washed it down, draining her wineglass. She poured herself a refill and topped off my glass.

“How am I supposed to remember all that?” I muttered.

“Don’t worry about it,” Violet said, swallowing one of her pills with a hefty slug of wine. “After a few games you’ll start to recognize all the pills.”

“Suzie Q,” said Mae, pushing a small white tablet to the center of the table.

“What’s a Suzie Q?” I asked.

“Seroquel,” Tiare answered.

Seroquel, I  knew, was for schizophrenia. If the Suzie Q’s had been prescribed for Mae, she should probably be taking them and not passing them around in a poker game. I glanced at her prescription bottle, which held an assortment of different colored and shaped pills. All I could make out on the label was the name Masako Ita.

Coralee reached for the pill Mae had anteed and showed it to me. “See, these are easy. It says right on the pill what it is, along with the dosage. Not all of them are all like that, but you’ll learn.”

I realized they were all waiting for me to ante. I opened my bottle and tipped a blood-red gel cap into my hand. “Stool softener,” I said as I added it to the colorful assortment of pills on the green felt tabletop.

Coralee and Violet anteed.

Tiare handed the cards to Coralee. “Shuffle.”

Coralee shuffled them with practiced moves and pushed the stack back to Tiare. Tiare passed them to Kaulana, on her left. “Cut.”.

 Kaulana cut the deck four times.

“First ace deals,” Tiare said. She dealt a card face up to each player until Francesca got an ace.

The deck was passed to Francesca. She allowed Kaulana on her left to shuffle the cards, and Tiare on her right to cut them.

“Zee game eez fife card draw,” Francesca said. She dealt five cards face-down to each player. I picked up each card as it was dealt to me, arranging them in order. My hand was scattered—four, six, seven, queen, ace.

No matter what anyone says, I don’t believe there’s any such thing as a ‘friendly’ game of poker. The game is based on deception. While there’s an element of random fate involved, over the course of an evening it’s usually the most cunning liar who walks away with the pot of gold—or in this case, the pile of pills.

Tiare added a pill to the kitty. “I bet one Klonopin.”

Violet called the bet with a Xanax.

“One Lexapro,” Coralee said, adding a white pill to the kitty.

I pushed a stool softener to the pile. “I call.”

I’m not the world’s best poker player, but I can hold my own. Which, I suppose, says something about my ability to lie when necessary. I subtly observed the women’s demeanors. Kaulana’s normally cheerful face fell as she studied her cards. Violet’s bright red bottom lip protruded in a pout. Sylvie squirmed with the giddiness of a five-year-old trying to keep a juicy secret. Tiare ran her tongue over her teeth. Coralee and Mae, on either side of me, were too close for me to see their faces but I sensed their still concentration. Francesca, directly across the table, caught me looking at her. She locked eyes with me and raised an eyebrow. Her face gave away nothing.

Any one of them could be acting. By the end of the night I’d have a better handle on their playing style, and a better idea which of them were the most practiced liars.