Page 38 of Genesis

“Bexley, it’s fine. These people are like family, just like you.” I feel her looking at me, so I turn to look at her.

“My family’s dying,” she says, and even as she says it, she shows no emotion. She sheds no tears, but it breaks my cold heart.

I don’t respond, and we keep walking until we reach Moretti’s place. It’s a hole-in-the-wall spot, where he has poker games and guys come and hang out. His office is here, and in the back are a courtyard with iron back chairs and a fire pit. Nothing fancy, but everyone needs to have a first drink at some point, and I figured why not let Bexley have her first with me.

We walk through the door and a few of the men call out. “Danny boy.” I nod and take her hand. “Is this your girlfriend, Danny?” Mickey asks.

“This is Bexley,” I reply, seeing Johnny sitting on a couch near the back. He’s looking at us, so I lift my chin at him.

“Good to meet you, Bexley. Any friend of Danny’s is a friend of ours.”

“It’s her birthday,” I tell him. “We got anything, like a cake or something?”

“We can get one. I’ll get one of the boys to run up the street.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Bexley says.

“It’s your birthday. You’re gonna have cake,” I tell her. I walk over to a cooler and grab a beer. “Here. Have a fucking drink and stop being so damn sad.”

“I’m not sad,” she says, taking the beer from my hand.

“You’re lying,” I reply, taking the beer back so I can open it for her. She doesn’t say anything as I give it back.

“The taste isn’t that great at first, but you’ll get used to it.”

We walk over to the couch and take a seat with Johnny.

“Hey, Johnny,” she says.

He nods, looking at me.

“It’s her birthday, Johnny. Tell her happy birthday.”

“Happy Birthday, Bexley,” he says, unenthused.

“Thanks,” she mutters as she picks at the label on the beer. We three sit on the couch and watch the guys play poker.

“I’d like to play,” Bexley says.

“You wanna play poker?” I question.

“Yeah,” she says.

“All right,” I reply. “Come on, Johnny. You’re playing, too.”

That evening was one of the best and worst I’ve ever had. Turns out, Bexley is one hell of a poker player. Apparently, her uncle taught her. She’s got one of the greatest poker faces around. She took all their money. A boy called Beefy, because he has fat fingers, brought in the cake and the whole place went crazy.

“Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday, dear Bexley. Happy fucking Birthday to you!”

“Now give us our money back!” one of the guys yells. Bexley laughs, looking tipsy from the three beers she’s consumed. “Winning is winning,” she says. “Not my fault you suck.”

My eyes widen a tad, because if a man would have said that to these guys, they’d get their face slapped. But they shock me stupid and shrug, like she’s just telling the truth. I sit on the couch with Johnny as she plays another round. Johnny takes a sip of his beer. “What are you doing?” he asks me.

“What are you talking about? I’m sitting here with you.”

“No, I mean with Bex.”

“It’s her birthday, Johnny. The girl was sitting at home by herself with her dying mom.”

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