POKER–PART 3

CHAPTER 7

When we were in the dorms we were lucky to make love once or twice a week. We had many wonderful memories of room seven. It seemed plenty at the time, but now that we were together and married five times a week seemed insufficient. Pru was anything but prudent when it came to sex with me. We would typically study for several hours each afternoon, leave for dinner, return to study until at least ten then shower and make love before bed. We’d have to shower again in the morning before leaving for breakfast. I was up at 5:30 every other morning so I could run. I had learned that running gave me more energy and better concentration in class or when studying. Whatever the reason, the Patrick and Prudence team was very effective. Our grades were much better during our sophomore year and even better as juniors. We never tired of pleasing each other and we tried everything—absolutely everything!

Pru took the car one day when I had a class, driving, as she told me later, to a bookstore in Harvard Square. She was plenty mysterious about her errand, but I trusted her and I knew she’d tell me when she was ready. She was ready when I returned to the apartment from a class; she held up her recently purchased copy of the Kama Sutra. I looked at her in disbelief and dismay.

“I want to start on page one and work our way through to the end. According to the woman in the bookstore there are about sixty different positions so I think we can try all of them in about eight to ten weeks…max. What do you think?”

“I think I love you…even if you are crazy. I doubt it will take us even five!” I grabbed her, pulling her into my arms. She squirmed around wildly as we kissed. So, for the next six weeks we took a scenic tour of Indian love-making. There were times I thought I’d need a chiropractor, but mostly we had a lot of fun and we loved each other even more when we were done.

The fraternity and its members had been very good to us—better than we could have imagined—so we found a way to pay pack. There was always an open house on graduation day, but, other than the graduates, most of the brothers had already returned home. Pru and I volunteered to assist; we only lived three miles away. At Pru’s insistence I was outside to greet the parents while she helped out in the dining room. Thus, I was on the sidewalk after our junior year when a chauffeur-driven Rolls-Royce rolled to a stop. A nattily dressed gentleman in a navy pin-striped suit stepped out, walking my way.

“Good morning, sir. Welcome to Delta Upsilon. How may I help you?”

“Good morning. I’m looking for Patrick Hayden. I was told he’d be here.”

“Well, you’ve found him—I’m Patrick Hayden.”

He held out his hand. “I’m Gerald Laird.”

“Oh.” It was Martin’s father.

“Please…don’t be concerned. I’m not angry or upset. I’m very well pleased with the things you’ve done to my son. I’m sure you’re surprised. Oh, is this your wife?”

Pru had walked up behind me. I turned and took her hand. “Yes, sir…this is Prudence. Pru, this is Mr. Laird…Martin’s father.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve gotten that reaction a lot…unfortunately. His mother spoiled him rotten and our divorce hasn’t helped at all. I was never allowed to discipline him. She handled everything that happened at home, but that’s changing now. He’s coming to work for me and he thinks he’ll be a vice president. That’s just what I need—an obnoxious vice president who’s abusive and turns people off. We’re playing poker tonight. If he wins he gets that job. If I win he’ll start at the bottom, and I do mean bottom. Even the janitors will be above him.

“I understand that you’ve beaten him for thousands. Any idea how much?”

“Actually, I do, the side bets, anyway—more than a hundred thousand over the past three years. His bets became more and more idiotic over the past year until I refused to accept them back in March. I must admit…I always knew I had him beat before accepting his challenge. I figured he deserved it for the insults he hurled at me and when he insulted Pru that was the final straw.”

“I can hardly blame you for that. I’m told you clobbered the crap out of him in the boxing competition. I’m not upset about that, either. You’re the only person to stand up to him his entire life.”

“I’m not entirely proud of that, although I told Martin to stay down several times my freshmen year. He ignored me. He has a lot of guts, but even more stupidity…oh, sorry.”

“Don’t be; you’ve described my son perfectly and I’m sure I would have done a lot worse if he had insulted my wife. Well, I would if my wife looked like yours. Now…you said you knew you had him beat. How?”

I couldn’t resist a chuckle. “I have to go back to the beginning…the second week we played in my freshman year. I was extremely conservative. I still am, but the others, including Martin play every hand.”

“That’s stupid.”

“I agree, but I noticed something when Martin drew his card—his left eyebrow twitched. When he won the hand I thought I might be on to something. I kept a close eye on him every hand after that. I could usually tell from what he drew or the exposed cards what he had. I admit to suckering him with the first side bet. After that all he could think of was getting even, but he never did.” Mr. Laird was laughing hysterically before I even finished.

“That’s priceless. Only an ego like Martin’s would fall for something so simple and so obvious. Actually, it’s not quite priceless.” He reached inside his suit, pulling a white envelope from his pocket. He handed it to me. “I’d like you to have this. Use it for school expenses or even to take your lovely wife on a vacation.”

I opened the envelope—there was a check for $25,000 inside. “I can’t accept this, sir.”

“Sure you can; you sold me a valuable piece of information. It’s worth that and more. Please…please accept it. You certainly earned it and more dealing with Martin for the past three years.”

I was pensive when I put the check into my pocket. “Mr. Laird, mind telling me how you learned all this? I’m sure Martin didn’t tell you.”

“You’re right. Martin would never mention being bested by someone he considers an inferior which in his mind is the entire world. No, I learned all this from Jeff—Jeff Spencer. You might find it hard to believe this, but the Spencers are neighbors. If anything, George Spencer earns much more than I do. We’re competitors in several industries. However, there were consequences for Jeff’s actions while there were none for Martin—not until now. I have to go now, but I want you to know how much I’ve enjoyed talking with you…and you, too, Mrs. Hayden. Best of luck, although I doubt you’ll need much.” He handed me his business card.