Cutler 04 - Midnight Whispers

old block; that's for sure. Daddy Longchamp," she told Morton, "was a famous drunk." She gulped some of her own drink.
    "He was not!" Gavin fumed.
    "I know what he was, honey," she said, putting her glass down and fixing her gaze on him. "There's no sense pretending he didn't drink and he didn't go to prison."
    "Well . . . he doesn't . . . doesn't drink now," Gavin stuttered. She had nearly brought him to tears.
    "Not in front of you, maybe, but I bet he sneaks it," she said, enjoying Gavin's discomfort. "Once a drunk, always a drunk."
    "He doesn't drink like that anymore," Gavin insisted.
    "All right, he doesn't. He's pure as the driven snow, perfect, a reformed drunk and kidnapper."
    "You don't know what you're talking about," Gavin said. "You shouldn't say those things about Daddy."
    "All right, all right," she said, satisfied she had tormented him enough. "Let's have some fun for a change. Sit down."
    "I'm not drinking," Gavin insisted.
    "Don't drink. Be a minister for all I care," she said irritably. We sat down. "But you gotta play by the rules," Aunt Fern added. I looked at Morton who broke into a wide smile again.
    "What rules? What sort of a game is this?" I asked.
    "We're playing strip poker," she said. "Cut the cards, Morty."
    "What?" Gavin said.
    "Don't tell me you two never played strip poker. Do you believe this, Morty?" she asked him. He shrugged and started dealing the cards.
    "We're not playing any such thing," Gavin said. He looked down at the cards as if our touching them would contaminate us.
    "Oh, you only play with each other, is that it?" Aunt Fern taunted.
    "We've never played this," he said.
    "So? There's a first time for everything. Right, princess?" she said, turning to me. "You can talk about first times, can't you."
    "Stop it, Aunt Fern."
    "Then pick up your cards," she ordered hotly. "You know how to play poker."
    "Don't do it, Christie," Gavin said. Fern picked up her cards and smiled.
    "I bid three pieces of clothing," she said. "Morty?"
    "I'll see you and raise you three pieces," he replied.
    "Gavin?"
    "We're not playing this stupid game, Fern," he said firmly. She lowered her hand.
    "I don't like my fun being ruined," she said steely-eyed. "It makes me want to call people, people like Philip."
    "Stop threatening us," Gavin snapped.
    "And people like Daddy." She turned to me. "And people in authority who come and get old ladies who still play with dolls."
    "You dirty . . ."
    "Forget it, Gavin," I said quickly. "We'll play her silly game if that makes her happy."
    "Fine. Morty has bid six pieces of clothes. Christie?"
    I looked at my cards. They were terrible, not even two of a kind.
    "I'll pass," I said.
    "If you do, you've got to take off six pieces of clothing," she said.
    "But that's not the way poker is played," I protested.
    "It's our special rules," she said. "Right, Morty?"
    "Absolutely," he said.
    "This is dumb," Gavin said.
    "Everything that's fun is dumb to you," Aunt Fern told him. "Well?" she asked me.
    "I might as well stay in if that's your rule," I replied. "Although it doesn't make any sense."
    "Good. Gavin?"
    He just ignored her.
    "I'll take two cards, please," she told Morton. He dealt them and turned to me.
    "Four," I said.
    "Why are you doing this?" Gavin asked me.
    "She wants to have some fun. Loosen up, Mr. Prude," Aunt Fern teased. Reluctantly, he picked up his hand and looked at it.
    "Two cards," he muttered at Morton.
    I had no better hand than the one with which I had started.
    "One for me," Morton said, dealing himself a card. He wore a big smile.
    "I raise you two more articles of clothing," Fern said.
    "See you and go one more," he replied.
    "That's nine if you're in, six if you're out," Aunt Fern explained.
    Gavin threw down his hand. I did the same. "Two pairs, threes and fives," Aunt Fern said, showing her hand.
    "A straight, two to six," Morton said, showing his cards. He sat back.
    "Lucky you," Fern said. She smiled. "You two take off any six pieces you want. I gotta take off nine. Oh," she said, laughing as she kicked off her shoes, "that will leave me stark naked." She lifted her blouse over her head and then stopped.
    "What are your six pieces, princess?" she asked.
    I took off my shoes and socks.
    "That's two," she said.
    "Two? I've taken off two shoes and two socks," I protested.
    "Pairs are counted as one," she said. "Our rules, right, Morty?"
    "Right," he parroted.
    "Keep going," she ordered.
    "Don't do it," Gavin told me.
    "You don't welsh on