Daddy’s Poker Game

Getting Ready for the Game

It was time for my dad’s bi-weekly poker game, and uncle Jimmy and their friends were on their way. The five of them got together every other Sunday evening to play poker, or sometimes other card games. We had a great games room in the basement with an air hockey table and a round table that was perfect for playing card or board games. I hung out there with my friends when they came over, since the soundproofing meant we could crank the tunes without my parents getting mad.

I’d wanted to join in on the poker games for a while, asking daddy every so often when I could come. My friends and I tried to learn, but we spent more time laughing and wanting to sing along to songs than actually playing. If I could learn from daddy, maybe I could teach my friends and we could try to get good at it. Next year, I was supposed to go to college, and I wanted to fit in with that crowd, playing games that were more mature than Go Fish, our usual card game. Every time I asked to join, daddy said I wasn’t old enough. A few months ago, I turned 18, and daddy finally asked me to come to the game. I spent the day before reading up on tips on-line, so I wouldn’t embarrass myself completely. Hopefully, they’d take it easy on me, since I was a beginner.

Just before they got here, I was helping daddy get the room ready, bringing down snacks and drinks. There was a wet bar down there, so we just needed to restock the sodas and some chips and nuts. When we were done, daddy looked down at me.

“Ava, go change into something pretty. You’re not a little girl anymore.” I looked down at my outfit, frowning. What was he talking about? I had a pair of ripped jeans on, and a pink hoodie with a DJ mouse on it. Okay, maybe he had a point. I wasn’t really interested in boys; they all seemed so immature, so I hadn’t been dressing to impress. Why should I start now?

I looked up at him, ready to complain. He was so much taller than me that I had to crane my neck. He grabbed my chin, and gave me a stern look.

“Do as I say, baby, go put on a skirt and a nice little top. I don’t want to hear any complaints. Now that you’re an adult, you need to learn how to act when you’re with grown men. Be a good girl and do as I ask tonight. Don’t embarrass me by being disobedient, or I’ll have to discipline you.”

What did he mean by that? “Daddy, I’m always good, and what do you mean ‘now that I’m an adult?’”

“You’re too old to just focus on yourself. When my friends come over, you’re going to bring us drinks and snacks, and make sure we’re enjoying ourselves. That’s what it means to be a hostess. When you’re an adult, and guests come to your home, you need to focus on company, not hide in your room like you did before. Men, in particular, like for a woman to be dressed pretty and take care of them. Tonight is the start of your lessons in being a grown-up. Isn’t that what you’ve been asking me and your step-mother for? To be treated like an adult?”

He was right, I guess. I didn’t want to be treated like a child, but I guess that meant I’d have to stop acting like one too. It was a sobering realization, and I felt a bit of my innocence slip away.

“Okay, Daddy, but I want to play cards, too, not just act like your waitress all night.” I couldn’t help the pout, and daddy flicked my lower lip as he always did when I pouted.

“You’ll play, don’t worry. No more pouting, you’re getting what you’ve been asking for tonight, and you’re going to be a good girl to show that you’re old enough to be with us. Right?”

“Yes, Daddy.” I did try to be good, but it was hard when daddy was so bossy. He was never mean, but he had to do most of the parenting since I was little, and took that very seriously. My step-mom, Lara, who married my dad when I was eight, wasn’t as bossy, ...