Last Day in Vegas chapter seven

Ephraim Pai had a bad day. He played poker for eleven hours and ended up winning exactly 27 dollars. At one point he had been up over four hundred. He knew there was a spirit residing in the chair that he had been using and although he had replaced the chair he was almost sure the spirit had followed him. He knew how devious these spirits could be and he held them almost completely accountable for his string of bad luck. Of course the fact that he had tried to draw to an inside straight at least three times had nothing to do with it.
He put the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking spot. He had been playing poker at the home of one Charles Ignatz. He always wondered what kind of a name Ignatz was. German? Jewish? Czechslovakian? He didn't bother to ask because he thought Charles might be offended. Charles was a rather overweight balding gay man who wore loud tropical shirts, drank quantities of gin and tonic and smoked salem 100's while they played cards. Ephraim didn't drink or smoke but neither bothered him. He could play cards in the middle of a blizzard sitting on a block of ice.
He knew his wife would not be happy with him if he told her how much he made so he had stopped telling her. She had an income from her family that they used for for all the bills and if Ephraim didn't ask her for money he wouldn't hear any grief. His wife was a strange bird who was pretty easy going and usually seemed happy although she didn't talk much and spent most of her time reading books that Ephraim had never heard of. Ephraim didn't read much. He watched some tv but most of the time he was playing poker or looking for a game. He had quite a few friends who regularly hosted poker games and Ephraim would sometimes drive two hundreds miles for a good game.
He pulled into the driveway of his house and his wife and son were standing on the front lawn.
"Look what Johnnie found."
His wife held up a one hundred dollar bill.