Southern Comfort Ch. 04

Doc was knelt down beside Jon checking his pulse and questioning him. I listened and watched as Ed pulled several instruments from his bag. He said very little other than asking questions and listening to Jon's vague answers. He gave him a brief examination before he asked, "Do you think you can stand up?"

"Yeah. I think so," Jon said sounding a little unsure. Between the two of them, they managed to maneuver Jon to his feet and Ed walked him to the bed. Once there, Ed began a fresh and more thorough exam.

He listened to Jon's heart and proclaimed, "It isn't your heart, Jon. It sounds just fine. But, this is definitely your body giving you a warning signal. You need to stop smoking for one thing," Doc said frowning at him.

"That's what I said," I snapped. "Is he going to be alright?" I asked.

"Well, I'm not going to call an ambulance right now," Ed said frowning at Jon. "But, you need to go see your regular doctor as soon as possible. Tell him what's going on and let him decide what to do from there. This isn't my field of specialty."

Jon suddenly began coughing again. It was not as severe as I had witnessed before, but he doubled over and pressed the damp cloth to his lips again. Doc was scowling at him as he waited for the spell to pass.

"Honey, why don't you go put on a pot of coffee?" he suggested. "Sometimes, coffee can help open the bronchial tubes in the lungs. Maybe he'll be able to breathe a little easier. Besides, I could use a cup myself this morning," he shrugged.

I hurried away to the kitchen to do as Doc asked. I could hear him talking in a low voice to Jon, but I couldn't make out was he was saying. By the time the coffee had finished brewing, both men joined me in the kitchen. Jon had pulled on a pair of jeans and an old t-shirt. His looked none the worse for wear as they sat down to drink their coffee and chat.

Jon gave me a sharp look and asked, "By the way, is there a reason you were going through my wallet? My shit was scattered all over the fucking bed." Ed looked a little uncomfortable at his question.

"Yeah. There was a damned good reason," I snorted at him. "I needed your credit card."

"Well, if you wanted to go shopping, you could've just asked," Jon quipped. "And, next time you go through my stuff, at least do me the courtesy of putting it back where you found it."

"I wasn't going through your shit, Jon. I needed your credit card to open the goddamned bathroom door," I hissed at him. "Next time, don't lock me out where I can't get to you," I admonished him.

"You unlocked the door with my card?" he asked looking amused. "How long did that take?"

"A few seconds," I shrugged.

"Your talents never cease to amaze me," he said shaking his head. "Make a note, Doc. If your credit card comes up missing when she's around, change your door locks."

**********

Two nights later, I was working and happy hour was just ending. Jon and Ivan were at the bar and they were very drunk already. They were laughing loudly and talking in low voices to several other men at the bar. Every time I approached the bar, I couldn't help but notice that everyone got quiet and the attention seemed to focus on me.

Around eight p.m., a strange man entered and joined Jon and Ivan. He appeared to be around their age, early forties, dark complexioned, with the same dark hair and eyes. He looked remarkably like them both with the exception he was much shorter and heavier in his build. I was not introduced to him, but almost immediately he tried to strike up a conversation with me. I knew the moment he opened his mouth to speak he was even more intoxicated than Jon and Ivan.

"Hi, there!" he greeted me. He eyed me up and down in a lewd manner. I said nothing to him and I proceeded to empty my tray of dirty glasses. "What's your name, sweetheart?" he asked. Jon and Ivan were watching with grins pasted on their faces. They were up to something, I could tell.

"My name is Cindy, and I'm not your fucking sweetheart," I said without looking up at him.

He laughed loudly and glanced at his two cohorts. "Could be a case of mistaken identity, I guess," he shrugged with a grin. "You look just like an old sweetheart of mine."

"I would say you're probably right. You seem to have mistaken me for someone who gives a shit about your love life," I said.

He looked startled for a moment and then grinned again. He laughed and nudged Jon, tossing his head in my direction. "She's got a smart mouth, but she's pretty!" he commented for everyone to hear. I remained silent. "Did you hear me? I said, you're pretty," he repeated, addressing me directly.

"What the fuck do you want?" I snarled at him. I was in no mood for fun and games. Jon had been distant since our last altercation. He also had done nothing that Doc had instructed him to do in regard to his health. Bob had been absent entirely and I was surly about the outcome of our last encounter.

"When someone says you're pretty, you should say something polite in return," the stranger admonished, cocking his head at me and still grinning.

"Okay. Here's your response," I said. I faced him squarely and put my hands on my hips. "I am smart and I am pretty. I'm smart enough to know a drunk asshole when I see one, and pretty sick of dealing with them! Maybe I'm not being polite, but I am being honest."

He looked stricken by my disgust. "Hey, I was just trying to be nice! You don't have to get rude about it!" he snapped angrily. "You could try being nice, too."

"Well, if being nice would have made you go away, then me being rude should be twice as effective and work twice as fast! Right?" I said in a huff.

He took a breath and looked helplessly at Jon. Jon burst into laughter. I left the bar to make another round of the floor. When I returned, he tried yet again.

He leaned over to me and slurred, "Do you like little red jets, honey?" I ignored him. "I have one in the parking lot. Would you like to go for a ride in my jet?" he asked as he placed his hand on my arm for emphasis. I couldn't help wondering who wrote his pick-up lines.

I looked down at his hand on my arm and then slowly raised my eyes to his face. I lowered my voice and spoke clearly and deliberately. "I don't want to go for a ride on a bus, in a plane, train or automobile. I don't want to sit on your lap. In fact, I don't even want to take a fucking magic carpet ride, Mister. Now, take your hand off my fucking arm before I neuter you the old fashioned way!"

He gasped and reeled in shock. He took a step backwards and Ivan interjected, in between bursts of laughter, "I'd back up further than that, if I were you. She means it! Take my word for it!"

Jon raised his glass to me and said with a wink, "I tried to warn him, but he wouldn't listen."

The man began to sputter. "You don't know who I am. Tell her, Jon. Help me out here, man!"

"I don't give a fuck who you are! You're drunk and you are obnoxious!" I snapped. "Now, get out of my way," I said brushing past him. I heard Ivan advising him to try a different approach.

When I returned, the man was no longer laughing. He looked serious and less inebriated. He leaned over to me and said, "You're right. I was being obnoxious and I'm sorry. I really wish you'd talk to me though. I have something to say to you. Will you listen for a second?"

Jon and Ivan seemed to have grown bored and they were ignoring us. I sighed. "Okay, what is it?" I asked. He sounded very sincere in his apology after all.

"Well, I meant what I said. You are beautiful, and I really do have a corvette in the parking lot. It's a red one. I'd still like to take you for a ride in it," he said in what sounded like quiet sincerity. I tilted my head and listened. "Then, if you want to get to know me better, I could show you some magic."

"Magic?" I asked sounding confused.

"Yeah. I have a magic fucking tongue that could make you scream, baby!" he whispered and burst into laughter again. "You interested?" he asked loudly and with a self-satisfied smirk. His rancorous humor irked me yet again.

"You know, at first, I thought you were just drunk, but I can see now that you are fucking stupid as well. I have an idea. Why don't I rip that magic tongue clean out of your head and shove it all the way up your ass! Then we can both be tickled by it! We'll see who screams first," I snarled at him.

Jon and Ivan were not the only ones laughing at us at that point. The entire bar was rolling on the floor. Jon and Ivan both had tears streaming down their cheeks. I was in no way amused. I stormed away, leaving the man with his jaw hanging in mid air.

Jon wiped at his tears and grabbed me by the arm as I brushed past him. "Are you about finished with your shift?" he asked.

"I'll be out in five," I replied still scowling in disgust.

"Go clock out and change. I'll buy you a drink. I want to introduce you to this guy for real. Ivan and I were just having some fun with him. I really want you to meet him," he said. I was not eager to be formally introduced at that point. It was men like the stranger who made me want to bury myself in a hole just to avoid any contact.

I clocked out and changed clothes. When I returned to the bar, Jon handed me a drink. "I haven't had that much fun in a long time," he whispered.

"Cindy," he announced in a loud voice, "I'd like you to meet my brother, Sonny. Sonny, this is the little hellcat I've been telling you about for the better part of a year now." Jon chuckled at the look on my face.

Sonny eyed me cautiously. I, in turn, looked suspiciously at Jon. "Your brother? He is your fucking brother?" I demanded in disbelief. Jon chuckled at me and nodded.

"I told you that you didn't know who I am," Sonny snorted.

"And I told you, I don't give a fuck who you are! You're still an asshole. You may be his fucking brother, but it doesn't give you license to be a prick!" I snarled at him.

Sonny looked shocked and Jon let out another laugh. I heard Ivan say to Sonny, "Watch this!" as he nudged Sonny and nodded at Jon.

Jon slipped his hand around my waist and said, "Now, don't be like that. He's really my brother. Be nice," he coaxed.

"Jon, did you hear what he said to me?" I demanded in protest. "He's an asshole!"

Jon grinned at me again. "He's still my brother. Be nice to him. He can't help it if he's an asshole. You thought Ivan was an asshole too when you first met him. But, you were nice to him because I asked you to be, weren't you? Sonny has been waiting for months for me to introduce you to him."

Jon knew I had also been waiting for the opportunity to meet his family. I had met his kids and that had gone rather well. But, this was a disaster. It was my worst nightmare come true. There's never a second chance to make a first impression. Sonny and I both had failed miserably at the opportunity.

He lowered his head and kissed the side of my neck. "Are you going home with me tonight?" he asked, running his hand over the top of my shoulder.

"I don't know, am I?" I countered, shivering at his touch.

"Yeah, I think you are," he said confidently. "Do you want to go now, or would you like another drink first?" he asked kissing my neck again.

"I'll get a drink at the house if you're ready to go," I replied.

"I'm ready now," he said taking my glass from me and setting it on the bar. He turned and addressed the other men. "Gentlemen, we'll be at the house!" he announced with a grin and a sharp salute.

He took my arm and walked me out the first set of exit doors. When we entered the foyer, he suddenly stopped and said, " I forgot to tell Sonny something. I'll be right back!"

I watched him hurry back inside. He walked around the bar holding his hand out to each man there. Every man laid a stack of bills in his palm, everyone with the exception of Ivan. Maybe the man wasn't really his brother after all. Maybe this was some kind of a joke Jon had cooked up I thought to myself.

I marched through the door and said, "Jon, what have you been up to this time?"

He turned his head and grinned at me. "A gentleman's wager."

"Ivan?" I asked expectantly scrutinizing the usual suspect in their co-conspiracies.

"Not me, Cindy Lou!" Ivan threw up his hands and denied any involvement. "Jon bet them all that even his own brother couldn't get to bat with you, much less first base!" Ivan grinned at me too then.

"And?" I prompted him.

Ivan cut his eyes cautiously at Jon and sighed. "And, that you would leave here with him without even finishing your drink first. I knew better than to take that bet!"

"Jon! Get your ass over here and let's go!" I snapped at him.

"I'm coming!" he shrugged and hurried towards me.

"Not yet you're not, and that's still open for debate. Especially after this little stunt!" I said sharply.

Jon grinned and looked back at his friends. "If you believe that, gentlemen, I've got another little wager I'll make with you boys!"

I snatched the money from his hand and said, "I believe half of that is mine! I want my cut now." The men at the bar burst into laughter at the look on his face when he stared down at his now empty hands. I waited until we got outside before I handed him the cash back and shook my head at him. "How much is it anyway?" I asked out of curiosity.

"Almost a grand!" he grinned at me and tucked it in his pocket. "Not the most I've made on you, but it's the safest bet I ever made. I make more money on you than I did the Cowboys last season. You're the one thing in my life that is constant," he said giving me an affectionate kiss.

"How many bets have you laid on me already?" I asked narrowing my eyes at him.

"I don't know. A few, I guess," he grinned at me.

I snorted. "More than a few! More like a dozen that I know of!"

"Yeah. That sounds about right. Why?" he asked.

"I just wondered," I said. "You do like to gamble, don't you?" I asked.

"I asked you out, didn't I?" he chuckled.

"You never asked me out. You told me I was going home with you," I snorted. "Do you play poker?" I asked casually.

"Yeah. I love poker," he said with enthusiasm. "Don't tell me you like to play," he said dubiously.

"Well, I haven't played that much, but I like it," I said. "One of these days, I'm going to Vegas," I declared.

"You are? When? Let me know and I'll go with you," he teased.

"You'll be in a rocking chair by then," I snorted. "Especially if you don't quit smoking and drinking so much!" I couldn't resist scolding him for not listening to Ed's advice.

"Why? When were you planning on going?" he asked rolling his eyes at me.

"When I get big!" I replied. 'When I get big' was another private joke we shared. It made Jon laugh to hear me say it. He argued that I would never get big and I would never grow up. So, the saying became my way of saying 'probably never'.

It made him chuckle on this occasion as well. "You know, now you have me thinking. I used to play poker all the time. I don't know why I quit doing it. Maybe I should call some of the guys and put together a game," he said seriously pondering the thought.

"Can I play, too?" I asked quickly.

"You don't want to play with a bunch of guys," he said shaking his head at me.

"You just don't want me around your friends!" I accused, pouting at him.

"It isn't that, Kitten. You'll just be bored, listening to a bunch of guy talk. You know how men are when they get together," he said in an obvious attempt to dissuade me from the idea.

"Jon, if you play poker, I want to play, too!" I insisted stomping my foot at him. He didn't find my bad temper adorable at the moment. He was visibly squirming to get out of the situation.

"But, honey, men don't like to gamble with women," he argued.

I thought quickly and said, "I'll make you a deal."

"What kind of deal?" he asked eyeing me sideways.

"You ask the guys if they mind. If they say it's okay, then I get to play," I said brightly.

"They won't say yes," he assured me. "So, don't get your feelings hurt, okay?"

"I get to be there when you call them, though," I added.

"Why? Don't you trust me?" he asked sounding crushed by my lack of faith.

"Nope! I sure don't! You don't want me to play. Admit it," I said.

"I didn't say that. I just said the guys won't like it and you'll be bored," he retorted.

In the end, Jon relented and allowed me to listen to him make the invitational phone calls. He invited his brother, but Sonny declined. Jon said he thought Sonny was too embarrassed to face me again. It seemed that my calling him a 'drunkard' as well as an ass prompted him to think, and he had sworn to quit drinking the next day. I had my doubts.

Jon actually had a hard time finding enough men to join the game. The ones that accepted all agreed to letting me sit in, much to Jon's dismay, I'm sure. At the end of the day, it was Jon, Ivan, Steve, and two other friends of his who I didn't know, who filled the table. The game went well and everyone had a good time. I lost miserably and found myself down over three hundred dollars at the end of the night.

A few nights later, Jon suggested another game. We had all grown bored with the usual Friday night ritual of drinking ourselves blind anyway. This time there was a last minute change in the players. Only, I didn't know it until I walked into the game.

I was the last to arrive, having pulled a long shift and gone home to shower and change first. I dressed in a black cocktail dress with the appropriate accessories. When I walked in, I looked around and found a table of familiar faces. Jon, Ed, Bob, Ivan and Steve all stood as one man. It made me a little uneasy to be honest. It seemed to me as if the deck was stacked, and not in my favor.

Jon had a mischievous look on his face. "I believe you know everyone here," he said as he gallantly held out a chair for me. I nodded and said nothing as he seated me at the table.

Ed leaned forward and said, "I ran into Jon earlier in the week at the bar. He told me about the game. I couldn't resist. I haven't played poker since college," he explained. "You look fabulous, by the way," he said as an after thought.

"You do," Steve agreed. "But, you smell even better than you look. What's that perfume?" he asked. I mumbled an answer and studied my fellow players with uneasiness.

"What would you like to drink?" Jon asked. He was being far too accommodating to suit me.

"Rum and seven, I guess," I replied. Jon hurried to get my drink. I looked directly at Ivan. If anything were amiss, Ivan would be the one to tip me off. Not intentionally, of course. He seemed relaxed enough. No tell tale signals there.

Bob remained strangely silent when I walked in. I was shocked to see him there after Jon had ordered me to stay away from him. I gazed across the table at him. He was still silent and somber. He met my gaze, staring steadily. I could see nothing notable in his expression. He appeared to be concentrating on the hand he held. They finished the round and waited for Jon to join as dealer for the next round.

I spent the next few minutes pondering why Bob was even there. Why would Jon deliberately invite him to play poker with us? It didn't seem likely that Jon's jealousy would simply disappear. To my knowledge, Bob had no way of knowing just how much shit I caught from Jon either. Two and two makes four in a perfect world, but the numbers weren't adding up. So much for a perfect world.

Jon returned with my drink and seated himself beside me. He began the deal. The game began conservatively. Draw Poker, Jacks or Better, no limit. Looking around the table, I decided to continue to focus on Ivan. Ivan and Steve were the easiest of my adversaries to read.

Much to my surprise, Ed turned out to be quite proficient at poker. He won several decent pots early in the game. Just as I had suspected, Steve and Ivan were barely holding on. We were well into the game when I finally managed to win a couple of hands. I took the remainder of Steve's money and he made a retreat, pleading an early day ahead. Ed put Ivan out, and he too, left to have a nightcap at the Club.