Cheating at Solitaire (26 page)

She drove down the gravel road in the darkness, ready to begin her grown-up life.

The headlights swept over the house, and she thought,
Home sweet home,
as she parked the car and popped the trunk. She lugged her suitcases onto the porch and struggled with the key.

When, at last, the door was open, she started inside but stopped short. Someone had fixed the door leading into the study. There was a fresh coat of paint on the wall.
Have Nina and the
contractors started?
she wondered. But then she saw that new lights had been installed in the ceiling above the fireplace, and they were shining down, accenting her grandmother's painting, which hung, perfectly centered, above the mantle. She crept closer, wondering who had arranged that surprise. She studied the painting through t he lights' glow. Its brushstrokes, the way the oil caught the light. She stepped closer and heard the familiar creak of the floorboards, but another noise as well, something she knew but couldn't pinpoint, something . . .

Behind her, cards shuffled.

Julia turned to see Lance sitting at the dining-room table. He cut the cards, then looked at her.

With a sly smirk, he said, "I think it's time you learn how to play gin."

From EliWinter.com/Julia James

WAY #102: Don't miss a chance to learn new games.

I am grateful to my publisher, Eli-Winter, for allowing me to write this addendum to
101 Ways
to Cheat at Solitaire.
I think it is important to include Way #102, a piece of advice I have taken far too long to offer: There are a lot of games in this world; don't miss your chance to learn them.

A man bought me lunch five years ago. It cost him forty-five dollars plus tax and tip, and in exchange, I received a chicken Caesar salad and a life. From that day on, I had a clear image of myself, a clear purpose for my work.
Table for One, Spaghetti and Meatball,
and
101 Ways to
Cheat at Solitaire
were the truest things that I could offer to help make the world
Al y Carter

A better place. I wouldn't change a syllable of any of them, except to add this message.

We wear a lot of labels in our lives, and it's so very easy to be defined by them. We have grown somehow accustomed to thinking of ourselves as a size eight or a size fourteen, as a Capricorn or a Taurus, as single or in love. I was very good at being single—so comfortable on my own that the thought of sharing my life with someone else was quite scary and completely unknown. Thinking of myself beyond that familiar label is the hardest thing I've ever had to do.

I've found a way to win at solitaire, but life is full of other games. Someone has come along and offered to teach them to me.

Who would I be cheating if I didn't try to learn?