“Novels bore me to tears.”
“And you’re not bored now?”
“Sure I am, but look at what I’ve got.”
“A deck of cards,” Janice observed. “I suppose you want me to play Rummy or something like that?”
“Poker. Do you know how to play?”
“No.”
“Great! I can teach you, and anyone else who wants to play.”
“I didn’t say—”
“Hey Vin!” Alexander called out. Vin wasn’t in sight.
“Yeah?” Vin’s voice was off in the distance.
“Want to play poker?”
“Sure.” Vin’s voice became louder as he moved toward Alexander. “Texas Hold ‘Em?”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
Vin arrived.
“I’ve got Janice here,” Alexander said. “She wants to play.”
“Now wait—” Janice said.
Day Seven
It was the second day of play, and Jize found it difficult to keep looking at his cards while Emily squirmed in his lap.
“I want to play Tea Party,” she whined.
“In a little while,” Jize said. “We’ve been playing Tea Party a lot. Right now, the adults are playing Poker.”
“I want to play Poker,” Emily said.
“Poker is a grown-up game.”
“What does the black card with the Q mean?”
“Ah, Jeez,” Alexander said.
At least Emily hadn’t revealed he had two Queens, but with one already on the table . . .
“C’mon Alexander,” Janice said. “It is just a game.”
“But now we know he at least has a pair of Queens.” Alexander threw his hand down in disgust. “I’m out.”
“Now simmer down,” the sheriff said. “This here money is not worth anything anymore. Let’s take back our money, and we’ll start over with another hand.”
Jize sighed. “I’m tired of Poker. I will play Tea Party with Emily.”
“Yay!” Emily leaped out of Jize’s lap. “I’ll go set the table.” She ran off to another table and started laying it all out with plastic cups and plates.
“I’ll join you,” Janice said.
“You don’t have to. This one is on me,” Jize said.
“I’m tired of Poker, I’m tired of my Western. We’ll play Tea Party, and then maybe I’ll tackle that Stephen King novel.”
“I thought you said Nora Roberts?” Alexander asked.
Janice sighed. “It doesn’t matter, Alexander.”
“Let’s all take a break,” Vin announced. “Alexander, you’re with me to go siphon more gas for the generator. It’s your turn.”
“You want me to put gasoline in my mouth,” Alexander said.
“It’s your turn.”
Alexander rolled his eyes. “Let’s get it over with.”
The sheriff joined Jize, Janice, and Emily for their tea party.
Jize believed if they all talked about their families, they would all bond together better. So far, they had been cooped up in this supermarket for almost a week now, yet he felt unfamiliar with them.
But he needed to be careful with Janice, because she said she had no one. Maybe in her past . . .
“Janice, was there ever a man in your life? Or . . . or a woman?”
Janice laughed. “I’m not gay. That’s not why I’m alone.”
“I’m sorry. A man, perhaps?”
Janice sighed and looked downwards. “I had a husband. He died of pancreatic cancer one year, four months, and fifteen days after we got married.”
“Oh, that’s terrible,” was all Jize could think to say. Then he realized a slight change in subject would be in order. “You said you used to be a nurse. Why did you give it up?”
Janice sighed again. “Same reason. When Rob was diagnosed, I transferred to the cancer ward so I could help him more. There, death was all around me. It seemed we lost a patient every week. And the way they were wasting away, and Rob along with them . . .”— She shuddered. “I just couldn’t do it anymore. I’ve always been some kind of empath, if you believe in such things. After Rob died, I tried to go back to regular nursing, not in the cancer ward, but I guess . . . all I can say is I think the damage was done. When I would care for patients, my mind would always turn to Rob and the other emaciated cancer patients. I guess I just had to get out of health care entirely.”
“Sorry to hear about that, ma’am,” the sheriff said.
Janice looked at the sheriff with genuine concern on her face as she “drank” from an empty tea cup. “It’s nothing compared to what happened to you.”
The sheriff nodded. “I suppose you’re right, ma’am.”
“Please, call me Janice.”
The sheriff nodded again.
Janice took a deep breath. “So, to cut a long story short, Rob was a high-powered attorney, so with our nest egg and the insurance money, I moved out of Chicago to here where we had gone skiing the winter before he was diagnosed. I paid cash for the house, but the savings kept dwindling, especially with the rise in property taxes, so I took a job as a cashier so I could tread water money-wise.”
“It must be hard, ma’am . . . uh, Janice . . . it must have been hard to help me the way you did. Or Alexander, his wrist seems healed now.”
“It is, mostly. It only causes him minor pain when he uses it too much. I keep telling him not to, but he’s a stubborn one. Anyway, yes, it was hard, but you all have been through so much, you all have lost family members to this plague, this zombie apocalypse, or whatever we choose to call it . . . It’s hard, but I figure it’s the least I can do to contribute.”
“Thank you,” Jize said. “We are all in your debt.” He thought that came out as awkward, and perhaps insincere, because it was so cliché, but he found a new respect for Janice. He realized that deep down, he had been angry at her for not allowing him to save his family, but all he would have done was get himself killed.
And the bigger point was she had saved his life, and though he thought about adding that onto his thank you, he saved it for later when she needed it most. Besides, she knew he was grateful for her saving his life, right?
“Do you take
