"Believe I'm gonna bet on this girlie here," said Nell, drawing attention to the queen she'd dealt herself. "I'll start this ma.s.sacree at only fifty cents, to be kind."

"You dated dated Deppity Dawg?" Deppity Dawg?"

"I did."

"What was that that like?" like?"

"Oh, Lord. Boring? Boring?"

"Did the blood gross him out?"

"Not really. He was always crazy about me. You in?"

Tara called the fifty cents. More cards fell, and the pot grew, and soon Tara was showing the King, Queen, Jack, ten. In truth she had no straight, since her hole cards were trash. But the hand looked looked pretty, and the shiraz and the jackpot and Nell's stories were making her lightheaded, and she decided to make a charge. pretty, and the shiraz and the jackpot and Nell's stories were making her lightheaded, and she decided to make a charge.

She bet the full value of the pot: twelve dollars.

She was not a bluffer. Against Nell, bluffing was suicide. But she thought, who knows, I pulled it off with Clio. Maybe the ability to bluff is just another gift of the jackpot.

Nell said, "Look at me, child."

Meet her gaze. That was all she needed to do. Same as with Clio. Well no, much much harder than with Clio but still, she could do it. Just hold her gaze without wavering and remember: the jackpot makes everything possible. harder than with Clio but still, she could do it. Just hold her gaze without wavering and remember: the jackpot makes everything possible.

But her grandmother's gaze was too searching.

Nell could be foolish; she could be petulant, sullen. Her taste was all over the place: she loved equally the Texaco Sat.u.r.day opera and her singing fish from the Dollar store. She'd had affairs during her marriages; she drank too much; her house was unkempt. She could be cool to the people she loved, sometimes even to Tara. But Tara thought her divine, and believed her to possess supernatural powers of wit and clairvoyance. And now it was impossible to endure her gaze. Tara let her eyes flicker away for an instant, and though she swung them right back, she knew it was too late. Nell was already calling her bet. Tara quietly folded. Nell raked in the pot. "I'll catch you every time; don't you know that?"

Tara laughed. "I momentarily forgot."

"Like right now I can tell you've got some good news you're not telling me. I feel it coming off you. Why aren't you telling your grandmother your news?"

"I'm that easy to read?"

Nell nodded. "You are when you're sittin there grinnin like a jack-o'-lantern. You in love?"

"Uh-uh."

"Something about school?"

"No."

"Well, what then?"

Tara smiled shyly. "You want to guess?"

"No I don't," said Nell. "There's no profit in guessin. If I guess right, you'll be disappointed 'cause you didn't get to tell me your secret. And suppose I guess wrong, but my guess is better than the truth? That'll make us both feel rotten."

"Your guess won't be better than the truth."

"Child. Tell me."

"Really? Just like that?"

Tara couldn't recollect a more pleasurable moment in her life, and she hated to surrender it. But Nell was losing patience. "OK," said Tara. "But don't ask me if I'm kidding. I'm not kidding. Don't ask if there's been a mistake. There's no mistake."

"Wow. This is a really big thing?"

"Yes it is."

"Well then get to it."

"OK. Soon."

She laughed, and picked up her gla.s.s, and walked out of the kitchen. She went to Nell's back porch. She lay down on the swinging bed, at an angle, relaxing into the old pillows. The porch was screened in, and a vine of Lady Banks' yellow roses was climbing up the pilasters. Tara called, "Come on, Grandmother, come out here and I'll tell you."

"I'm sick of fooling with you!"

"I promise I'll tell you!"

She'd been waiting for this all day. Not just to be here at Nell's - but to be on this back porch, on this bed, at this particular angle, with the mound of fancy cushions rising behind her, with the toes of one foot just touching the floor, so that now and then she could push off and keep the bed rocking, while she looked out at Nell's garden, the crepe myrtle tree and the chili peppers and the clawfoot bathtub, the mock-banana fragrantly in bloom, the roses clinging to the screen. She took a sip of shiraz. She called again, "I promise promise!"

Nell came shuffling in. Took the rocker without a word.

Outside, a breeze silvered the leaves on the crepe myrtle.

Tara said, "OK." She drew a breath. "We won the jackpot."

"The jackpot?"

"The Max-a-Million. I mean Dad won it."

"You kidding?"

"You promised you wouldn't ask that."

"There's been some mistake?"

"Grandmother."

"How much did you win? A lot?"

"Yes."

"A hundred dollars?"

"More."

"A thousand dollars?"

"Little more."

"A hundred hundred thousand?" thousand?"

"Even a little bit more."

"Stop it," said Nell. "You can't lie to me."

"I know I can't."

"You're telling the truth?"

"Yes."

Nell essayed, in a small birdlike voice, "You won a million dollars?"

"Higher."

"Sweet baby Jesus."

"Yeah."

"Tell me, child!" me, child!"

"OK. Ready?"

"Yes."

"We won three hundred and eighteen million dollars."

"Good. G.o.d."

"And on the way over here? They announced it on the radio. I mean, not about us, but that the ticket was sold out of Brunswick. And they said there's only gonna be one winner. So it's not even split. It's all ours. But I mean we're going to take the lump sum, so I guess it'll be less. And then taxes, you know. What we'll wind up with is only like a hundred and twenty-something million."

"A hundred and twenty something. Million Million."

"Uh-huh."

"You're really trying to tell me y'all are gonna take home take home a hundred and twenty million dollars?" a hundred and twenty million dollars?"

"Or so."

"Mitch don't have to cart toner all over the county no more?"

Tara shook her head.

"And you can get your degree?"

"If I want. Maybe I'll just buy my own college."

"And I can just strut around like I'm Queen Marie of Romania?"

"You do that anyway, Grandmother dear."

They laughed so hard that Nell sprayed her wine, and Horace Jackal disappeared.

Nell noticed that her own wine gla.s.s was empty.

"d.a.m.n, we got to toast this. I'll get some more."

Said Tara, "I can't drink any more. I got to drive home."

"No, you'll drink a toast with old Nell. I'll call Willie; he'll drive you home. Wait."

She weaved back to the kitchen.

Tara lay there and her heart was weak from too much joy. Too much! Everything was hers! Of course it wasn't really her money and if it were up to Mom she wouldn't see a nickel - but she knew Dad would make sure she had anything she wanted. Travel. New York for wild nights with Clio. The Galapagos for a summer trip with Nell. And she could go to some great school, maybe Duke. And clothes. Maybe one or two dresses. Like those Marc Jacobs' in Marie Claire Marie Claire. And she didn't care about shoes but she wouldn't mind owning one pair of great heels. Stop Stop, she thought. But if she was was going to Duke she'd absolutely need a car to get around in. Not a falling-apart Geo. Maybe a convertible BMW though it didn't need to be brand new. Though really, why going to Duke she'd absolutely need a car to get around in. Not a falling-apart Geo. Maybe a convertible BMW though it didn't need to be brand new. Though really, why not not brand new? And a nice apartment of her own. And a garden. With a clawfooted bathtub! brand new? And a nice apartment of her own. And a garden. With a clawfooted bathtub!

As she lay there the tumbling of all these things through her thoughts - along with the swinging of the bed, and the heat and the wine, became dizzying. When Nell came back with a new bottle, she must have sensed something was wrong because she squinted and said, "Honey, you OK?"

"Oh. Uh-huh."

"You sure?"

"I'm great. I'm just, maybe a little... I don't know."

Nell refilled Tara's gla.s.s, then her own. And asked, "You're not scared, are you?"

"Scared of what?"

"All that money."

"Oh. Maybe I should be?"

"Well everybody says how it ruins your life, getting rich all of a sudden."

"Are you you scared, Nell?" scared, Nell?"

"No, ma'am."

"Well, then I guess I'm not either."

"Uh-huh. We must be in denial denial."

"I guess so," said Tara, laughing.

Said Nell, "I think it's great great to be Queen Marie of Romania! Let's drink to denial. Let's drink to Romania. Let's to be Queen Marie of Romania! Let's drink to denial. Let's drink to Romania. Let's buy buy Romania. Holy c.r.a.p!" Romania. Holy c.r.a.p!"

Romeo awoke in the motel room. Shaw was still at the little desk, his back bathed in sweat, leaning in toward the screen. Romeo could see he was looking at pictures of some girl. It wasn't p.o.r.n though. The girl wasn't even naked - but he was looking at her like she was. awoke in the motel room. Shaw was still at the little desk, his back bathed in sweat, leaning in toward the screen. Romeo could see he was looking at pictures of some girl. It wasn't p.o.r.n though. The girl wasn't even naked - but he was looking at her like she was.