Page 63 of Melancholia

I watch his fingers move, watch them bend the cards without creasing them. He shuffles them absently, like an old hobby, never needing to take his attention off me. “Rummy?” he asks, repeating the game I mentioned the other night.

“Yeah,” I agree. I’m good at this game. If there’s anything I’m going to win, it’s going to be this one. “Regular Rummy, though I don’t know how to play Indian or Gin.”

“Oh?” He shuffles the cards together one more time before dealing them with flicks of his wrist. One to me, one to him, then so on until we both have ten. “I’m surprised. I would’ve expected you to be a Gin Rummy expert.”

“Played it a couple times. But not that much. I don’t know, it just never clicked the way normal Rummy did.” I pick up my cards, sorting them, putting a couple of matches together before glancing at the card Amir has placed face up beside the rest of the deck. For his part, Amir sets three cards down in a run, then looks at me expectantly.

“Thank you so much,” I murmur, able to get rid of one of my cards to combo with him. But after that, I pull a useless card from the deck to start my turn…and place it right down on the discard pile.

Thunder rumbles outside again, and I glance up at the window in time to see a flicker of lightning.

“Are you afraid of storms?” Amir asks curiously. He also places a card into the discard instead of putting anything else down. But this one I can use.

“Not at all.” I pick it up, using it to place a trio of threes down on the table. With his run and my meld, all of the threes are no longer in play. Thankfully, nothing else in my hand requires them. Not that my hand is overall that great. “What about the dogs? Aren’t Shepherds pretty sensitive to them?”

Amir nods his head as he picks up a card from the deck, and then places down another trio of cards, this time jacks. “They’re terrified. But nothing a little Benadryl-filled treat can’t fix. And it’s their night with Auntie Hestia.”

Then that explains where she is. The storm gradually fades as we take our turns, our conversation flowing surprisingly easily, compared to the tense silence I played out in my head when I considered how this would go.

But at the end of the game, I know I’ve lost. Amir smiles and says in a very sweet voice, “That’s all,” then discards his very last card on the table.

Leaving me holding two kings. When I place them down with a sigh, he gives me a look of almost authentic sympathy. “Shall I tally for us?” I nod, and Amir does so, laying his phone on the table between us with the notes app open to show our scores.

Twenty-seven to thirty-six; not in my favor. But it’s close enough that I tap my fingers on the table, worrying my lower lip in thought. “Best two out of three? Not like it takes long…”

Amir fixes me with a look before gathering up all the cards again. “If I didn’t know better, I might think you’re a sore loser,” he murmurs. “Or that you’re trying to get out of what will be a very nice reward for me winning. I did tell you that, right. Your game means I don’t hold back if you lose.”

My stomach twists as my heart tries to beat right out of my throat. “But you know better,” I retort with more confidence than I feel. “And you know I just want to play another couple of rounds. I haven’t gotten to do this since…” I trail off, thinking. “Well, Cecil played with me one night while we were waiting on a body. But he’s, uh, how do I say this politely⁠—”

“Absolutely awful at any card game,” Amir finishes for me. “I am well acquainted.” He offers me another smile and deals again until we are once more each holding ten cards.

This time, my hand is significantly better, and this round is quicker than the last. It ends in my favor so aggressively that I’ve pulled ahead of him even with my loss last round.

“Careful,” Amir warns as he deals one last time. “I wouldn’t want you to get overconfident, my darling.” The affectionate pet name has something hot twisting in my stomach that has nothing to do with anxiety. “This isn’t a runaway for you just yet.”

“And I need more coffee for this,” I declare, not yet looking at the cards I’ve been dealt. I get to my feet and pick up the plastic cup, reaching out for his empty one as well. “Do you want another one?”

He pauses in his sorting of cards, his eyes going to his empty cup in my hand to my face. “No, thank you. But I appreciate you.”

“Don’t appreciate me too much. You’re paying.” It’s definitely a little reckless to be so bold, and my tiny smile doesn’t go unrewarded. He chuckles and offers me one of his own.

“Which I do gladly.”

It only takes a couple of minutes to get another large iced latte, and when I’m seated again with my cards in hand, I can feel Amir eyeing me with something bordering on concern. “Yes?” I ask without looking up.

“I’m simply wondering about your daily caffeine intake.”

I glance up at him, suddenly a bit unsure. “If you want me to start paying for my own⁠—”

“That’s not what I said.” There’s a hint of reproach in his words, and I suddenly feel as if I’m being chastised. “I said I was wondering how much coffee you drink. In case you didn’t know this, you should drink things that don’t have caffeine in them once in a while.”

“Ah, no. I think I’m past that,” I sigh, a little theatrical. “My blood runs black with espresso now. I have to keep drinking it or I’ll die. I’m like a coffee vampire.”

When I look up at him, he’s not smiling. He’s giving me a deadpan look, like he’s confused at how I’m still alive.

Frankly, so am I. But not because of a caffeine overdose.

“Charming,” Amir finally mutters. “Shall we play, then?”