The Social

1914

Kansas City, Kansas

The punch was the least of his concerns. Neatly dressed and doing his very best not to look stiff, he sipped the small crystal teacup of punch, trying to make it last as long as he could. He was of average height, neither chubby nor twiggy. It was his bright red hair that made him stand out, that and his devotion to God. Once that had been fodder for his classmates’ imagination, but they long since moved on to more interesting things. It was as all the world grew up, except him.

And Evelyn, of course.

He had not seen his twin sister in many years, had stopped seeing her out of the corner of his eye long since. Yet here she was tonight, at least in his thoughts, flitting from one table to another, sparking rumors and gathering them like the most beautiful and fiery cardinal hunting treasure. She was, of course, as his father had pronounced, passed on into the kingdom of heaven, for her many sins, which was a logical error that Jack was not going to bring up to his very stern father.

In his mind, she was there at this social, the last one he’d attend before leaving for New York and his medical residency. Her hair would have been done with great flourishes, making the garishly red hair into some kind of decoration. The very best gown would have flowed around her, just a tiny measure inside the lines of decency in their Baptist community, but not more than that.

A beautiful grown up Eve would never have stood by the wall, sipping punch, and counting down the minutes until it was socially acceptable to leave. Miss Evelyn Walker would have owned the world.

Then without warning the ghost of his lost twin stood next to him, smiling with some secret plan for which it would be him that got in trouble. “You have to accept who you are, Jackie, or you’ll never grow up, my man.”

Evelyn had always thought the impossible was easy.

1914

New York City, NY

There was nothing neat about Galen Francis McNiel. A slender cigar hung from pink lips, held by still perfect teeth. His hair was a halo of golden curls in the warm glow of the gas lighting. He held five cards, a bit stained, but the edges were good on the whole deck. His thumb moved to cover over a dark splatter that reminded players that cheating was hazardous to one’s health. He chewed his cigar as his blue eyes mean mugged the woman across the table.

That probably wasn’t good for his health either. It had been her blade that put those dark splatters on the cards. Edith ‘Edie’ Masters was the boss’ favorite accountant and she really liked her money, probably more than she liked their boss’. A stern woman, brown hair in a tight bun held with a pair of long metal hair pins. There were whispers she was still a virgin and whispers that the love of her life was a ghost in the back garden.

Either way, Gael wasn’t really interested. He just cared about his twenty bucks in the pot. He really needed that back, but having everyone else’s money would be worth the risk. Now that he had her attention, he batted golden lashes, pretty blue eyes at her. Gael could get away with it. He was untouchable. He was the boss’s favorite favorite.

She gasped, glared.

Bruno laughed, took a drink of his whiskey. “The boy’s right Edie, thinking about it isn’t going to help your cards.”

“Vile,” she said, condensing her fanned cards and setting them down face up. “I fold.”

“That wasn’t nice,” Caleb said, staring at the queen of hearts laying on the top of her stack.

“Who said there was anything nice about poker,” Edie shot back before throwing back the last of her whiskey.

Bruno sighed. “Well, there’s no point in being mean.” He laid his card down, two pair, seven of hearts and spades, and two red hearts. “What you got, Gael?”

Gael winked, blew smoke, then finished his whisky. “I have the money,” he said, laying down the queen of diamonds, “the power, and the stealth, and the boys who love them.” He laid down two more queens and two jacks. “Calab?”

“You all fuckers. Can’t we play for pennies?” He tossed his cards on the table.

“Looks like I’ve got it all,” Gael said with a huge grin, that cigar hanging from between his teeth again as he gathered up his winnings.

“You have everything, except what really matters,” Edie snarked, holding up the queen of hearts. “You’ll never have that, will you?”

“Can’t have everything,” Gael said, hiding the sting.

A gangster boy can’t know that a shy redheaded medical student would be in New York in a few months and their lives would never be the same.