Being Alive: A The Queen's Gambit Story

Chapter Two

Beth's house isn't like anything Benny imagined. Yet, he knows from the moment he steps into the foyer that it is without argument her. From the abstract artwork to the trophies lined up on top of the baby grand piano. She seems nervous, which now explains her uncharacteristic chatter for the last ten minutes of their drive.

She doesn't offer to show him around the house, and there's something that he likes about that. He isn't just a guest who needs to be shown the bathroom and where to put his coat. He'll be there long enough to figure all of that out on his own.

They both are tired after the flight back from Chicago, but Beth insists on cooking him dinner. Something that he finds mildly alarming considering they lived together for several weeks and he'd only seen her hard-boil an egg with varying success.

She takes out a worn copy of The Joy of Cooking from one of the cabinets and leafs through it while he drinks iced tea at the kitchen table.

"What about beef stroganoff?" she asks, still leafing through the large volume.

"Are you sure you want to cook? I'm sure you're beat from the travel. Or, at least I am."

"I don't mind," she says, still looking down at the book. But then she looks up at him, eyes warm, and says, "You came all the way here for me. I want to do something special."

Beth's words affect him more than he expects. Over the years of national, and even international, recognition, Benny was not a stranger to people doing things for him. But, it was always because of what he achieved. This is different.

"Beef stroganoff sounds great."

"I'll need to go to the store. You can come with or stay here."

"I'll come with," he says, standing up and stretching his neck until he feels the delicious crack. Beth is already off to grab her coat and purse, and he goes to follow her. He pauses in the hallway, looking at a small framed photograph set on a lone end table. He recognizes a young Beth, with her bob and blunt bangs. She's unsmiling with her hand on the shoulder of an older male who appears to be just as unenthused as her.

"Are you ready to go?" Beth says, suddenly next to him. She's put on a white and pink checkered coat that somehow makes her red hair even brighter.

"Yeah, let's go."

Later that evening, Beth attempts beef stroganoff and within the first fifteen minutes, manages to set off her fire alarm. The charred mushrooms are like glue on the pan, leaving a burnt trail on the pan in the wake of Beth's spatula. Benny opens up the door of her bubble-gum pink refrigerator and pulls out a carton of eggs.

"For the sake of the fire department, I think I should take over here," he says.

"I don't like being bad at things," she says, loudly tossing the pan into the kitchen sink.

He smirks. "I know you don't. But cooking, much like chess, can be learned. Come here, I'll show you."

He finds a clean pan in the bottom drawer of her oven and he makes them each an omelet, showing her how to flip the omelet and garnish it with a handful of sharp cheddar that he found in the back of her refrigerator. She makes them each one piece of toast, swearing when she burns the first batch, but the second batch is perfect.

They eat together at the kitchen table and conversation invariably turns to chess, as it typically does with them, but then it shifts and turns again, like the sorts of conversations he always used to imagine regular well-adjusted people having. The sorts of conversation he never had, because spending your childhood at chess tournaments didn't result in the most well-adjusted people, as much as he tried to play the part. But, here they are. Almost acting like normal people. And maybe, together, they are just that.

Beth wipes at her mouth with her napkin and says, "Benny, this might be the best omelet I've had."

"Thank you."

She glances back at the kitchen sink, which still held the evidence of her culinary-failure, and he says, "You're going to make beef stroganoff every night until you get it right, aren't you?"

She looks back at him. "Yes, I am."

He picks up his plate and takes it over to the sink, kissing the top of her head as he passes. "We better make sure we have enough eggs."