Full House

“Shall we go look at the caskets now?” The funeral director looked directly at me, and then glanced over at my grandfather, whose eyes were slightly glazed over. He was either fighting back tears, or hadn’t heard the question as his hearing had started to dwindle over the years. I gestured at the director to please repeat the question because I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

It was all very matter-of-fact, and I supposed that’s why I had come in the first place. I didn’t want to think deeply about the events that had just taken place. I wanted to get down to business and do something useful because that’s what Dadima would’ve done. Dadima was my late grandmother who had passed away of numerous complications that come with being 88 years old just the night prior. We called her Dadima because that was what grandmothers on your father’s side were called in an Indian family. Hearing everyone else use her first name when they called to offer condolences was strange to hear, especially when she had always just been ‘Dadima’ for the past twenty-five years of my life.

“Sorry, what was that?” My grandfather squinted and leaned forward with mild difficulty in the surprisingly cozy chair in the funeral director’s office. Either they expected people to stay a while, or they were trying their best not to add to the accumulating discomfort one faces when it begins to sink in that they will never see a loved one again.

“Arjun, it’s your move,” I felt a light nudge on the elbow and snapped out of my daydream of the very real events of a few days ago. I smiled at my friend seated to my left at the oval-shaped 8-player poker table that one of his buddies had just invested in and was grateful that he had been so patient with me recently. Normally, he’d likely have smacked me atop the head for taking so long to decide whether to bet or fold and thrown a childish insult my way. He was the only one who knew how heartbroken I’d been to find out that Dadima had days to live and how much I had struggled with the idea that she’d given up the fight.

“Sorry everyone, my mind got away from me,” I smiled softly and glanced around the table. Half the table was people I’d known from our weekly poker nights. The other half was empty for now, but my best friend, Jake, had mentioned that a couple of older friends would join us “to show us a real game.” I remembered laughing at the thought, because no one knew how to play poker like Dadima. And I had learned from the best.

I glanced at my cards. I had to move quickly before I became known as the slowest player in the group. Three kings and two queens. No fucking way. Dadima had always said never to give away your hand by making any gesture that could suggest you might have a winning or losing hand. She’d say, You have to know when to fold, and you have to know when to go all-in. Sometimes you fold when the odds are against you, but sometimes you play..because you never know how others might react to your confidence.

I tucked a piece of hair that was falling over my eyes back behind my ear, picked up a couple of blue chips, remained expressionless and looked directly at my opponent on the opposite side of the table, “Raise.”

Just then, a tall brunette with caramel-coloured skin, who must have been roughly 40 or 50 years old, walked into the room and beamed at my friend, “Hi Jake, how have you been?!” I glanced over and couldn’t help but smile back when she gave me a friendly wave.

“Everyone, this is my dad’s colleague, Radhika. She really knows how to play…so be prepared to cut your losses and call it a day pretty soon!” Jake looked at me and winked and the entire poker table cackled because obviously everyone was a self-proclaimed pro there.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Radhka whispered to me as she made her way to the empty seat across from me. I felt my face flush as a mixture of heat and sadness made its way from my chest to my head. Bewildered at how she would’ve known, I caught a glimpse at Jake who shrugged softly and mouthed, “She overheard”.

I gave her a sad smile and a soft, “Thank you.” I couldn’t meet her eyes because I was certain that if I held her kind gaze for longer than a second, I would have an emotional breakdown in front of the guys. I just didn’t feel like giving everyone the whole runaround about how Dadima had passed and the funeral was just yesterday and why I was sitting her gambling with them instead of wallowing away in my sadness and being with family, etcetera, etcetera. I wasn’t with my family because playing poker had always been my and Dadima’s way of bonding. We used to play with cookies or chips, the snack kind. If I had won, she would give me some spending money. If she had won, well we’d just try again to see if I could beat her. That didn’t happen often.

When I finally felt my body return to its normal temperature, I looked up as the dealer shuffled the deck with that fancy machine you see at casinos and found Radhika gazing back at me with a soft, motherly expression that provided instant relief from the weight crushing my chest that had found its way into the pit of my stomach where it had been residing since I’d seen Dadima’s lifeless body in the hospital. I tried to smile back at her but it likely appeared as more of a grimace as the dreadful memory resurfaced.

Radhika had dark brown hair, it almost looked black. It was wavy and flowed just past her shoulders. Her face was oval-shaped and had well-defined dark eyebrows and slightly plump cheeks full of colour. When I made direct eye contact, I felt myself gasp softly. They were dark chocolate coloured and had a twinkle in them. They seemed to smile at me, along with the rest of her face. There was something oddly familiar about them that I couldn’t quite place.

“Call,” Radhika’s husky yet comforting voice was soothing to my ears, “You know, this game is really all about knowing when to fold. Once you master that, you’re golden.”

My eyes shot up to meet hers once again, and I was certain that I had broken my poker face and replaced it with one full of wonder. She smiled at me and peeked at her cards again and then looked up, but remained stoic.

I lifted my cards with my right thumb ever so slightly and shielded them with my left hand from any potential peeping Toms at the table. If one could smirk internally, I’m sure I had. Three Aces and two Kings. Another full house. Not the best hand, but definitely not one to fold on. I threw a few more chips on the table and let my mind relax and wander, as it often did these days, as Radhika’s calming aura seemed to take some of the heaviness away.

“Wow, you guys have got a full house here!” a jolly voice exclaimed, as the stout grey-haired palliative nurse made her way into our private room.

I got up from the bedside chair and smiled nervously, “Sorry, I know it’s a lot of people,” anticipating that she was about to reprimand us.

“Oh, don’t be silly!” she swatted her hand in the hair, “Your grandma is so lucky and so loved. Most people here don’t have a single visitor. They may get one if they're lucky.”

I felt my eyebrows almost touch my hairline in shock. For us it was totally normal that the entire family and friend circle was checking in every day. I couldn’t imagine what most people went through. What kind of lives did some people lead when they were healthy to have no one visit at the very end? Or worse, what kind of people had they surrounded themselves with?

It had been a full house since Dadima had been admitted to the hospital. I had almost wondered if she’d been holding on for so long because she was so loved and those energies kept her grounded and fighting. It was like she had said to me weeks prior to being admitted, Don’t fold on a full house, Arjun. It’s a great hand to have. Just fool the rest of the table in case someone has better! We’d both chortled together at her last comment. After all, deception was a large part of the game. The poker face. Fake it ‘til you make it. Just like life…hadn’t we all cheated death at least once in our lives?

“Well, well…Arjun and Radhika face off,” Jake’s voice brought me back to the table. I looked around and noticed that everyone else had folded.

“Well, shit,” I said, half chuckling, half serious.

Radhika folded her hands together and had a contemplative expression on her face, the same one that Dadima used to have when she was making the final decision: fold or play until the end.

“Hmm,” she pondered aloud and leaned her forehead against her folded hands, as if to pray. With her head down and her hair sprawled over the table, I couldn’t help but stare, bug-eyed, at the resemblance I sensed.

My thoughts drifted to the last conversation I had with Dadima as she lay frail on the hospital bed. She was half her size, her husky voice had turned breathy, and her hands were cool rather than warm.

“I just want to thank you…” my eyes welled up as I took her hand for what I hadn’t realized would be the last time, “...for everything you did for us.” I was choking on my words, and I’m not sure if she fully understood until she squeezed my hand as hard as she could, kept her gaze above her and nodded. It was silent for a while, so I started to sit up to leave when she cleared her throat to speak.

I immediately sat back down and she looked at me with her kind, dark chocolate eyes. She had a twinkle in them that never fully dissipated through everything and said softly, “It was a hell of a hand. But it’s time for me to fold.” Those words remained etched in my memory ever since, as that was the last time I saw her alive.

“Arjun, it’s okay,” I felt a warm hand rub mine from across the poker table. I returned to the present and became aware of the wetness on my cheeks. The other guys at the table looked concerned but didn’t make any unwarranted comments, thankfully.

Jake nodded slightly and smiled as he squeezed my shoulder and looked over at his friends and said, “Buddy’s had a bit of a week, let’s cut him some slack guys.”

Thankfully he had a mature group of friends and they didn’t push for more information. I threw him a gracious look and focused my attention back on the game.

“Your move, Radhika,” I was intent on playing my hand until the end, regardless of anything.

Radhika took one last glance at her hand and sighed softly and tossed them to the side. I was stunned at the decision because she’d been so determined to win from the start. She laughed at my bemused expression and exclaimed, “Hey, be happy you won!”

I chuckled but was too curious not to ask, “What was your hand?”

She shook her head grinning as if to say, Come on, you know better than to ask that. So I eventually let it go and enjoyed the rest of the party. I didn’t want to be alone with my memories so I planned to stay at Jake’s that night.

It started to get late after a while, and people started to leave. I felt a familiar touch on my shoulder just as the last few stragglers were heading home. I turned slowly to face Radhika whose already soft expression had somehow grown softer.

“I’m heading out,” she smiled, “It was really nice to see you again.”

Again? This was the first time I was meeting her, I thought. I chalked it up to the few drinks we’d all had and just smiled back and gave her a hug goodbye.

Just as she made her way out, her hand lingered on the door frame and she looked over her shoulder and said, “If you really want to know, Arjun, it was a hell of a hand. But it was time for me to fold.” She left with a wink and a twinkle as I stood with my mouth slightly agape staring at the now empty doorway.

I closed my eyes and a single tear escaped both of them. My heart rose back to its rightful place and swelled with joy knowing that she was not completely gone.