THE PUZZLE PIECES were barely settled in the box before Aunt Kate was pulling up across the table from me and had the cards flying as she dealt a stream to each of us and to our absent opponents. Herta and Gerda—even their names sounded mean. Helplessly watching her deliver the valentines, as the poker game regulars in the Double W bunkhouse termed it, I felt unsure of myself but all too certain that turning me into a Minnie Zettel for hen parties was going to test the limits of both of us. And this was before I had any inkling that a contest of hearts, diamonds, clubs, and spades could become such a dangerous game. While she was rifling the cards out, Herman wandered by the living room and took a peek at what was happening, which sent his eyebrows way up and quickened his step until he was safely past and out the back door. No rescue from that direction, so I cussed silently and kept stuffing cards into my overloaded hand. Finishing dealing with a flourish, Aunt Kate slapped the deck down squarely in the middle of the table and sang out, “Now then, honeybun, the first thing is, you have to catch up a weensy bit by learning a few rules, mmm?”
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