Being Alive: A The Queen's Gambit Story

Chapter Four

Beth didn't think often of her birth-father. From all of her memories, his role in her life seemed limited to her conception, and nothing else. The few times he appeared, the situation had always been fraught and imbued with complications that her young brain couldn't yet comprehend. She could still remember watching him from the window of the trailer when she was just a girl and when their eyes met she felt nothing.

When the woman knocks on her door, Beth hadn't thought of her father in well over a year. Which is why she finds herself confused when the woman, whose name is Ann, tells her, "Your father is dead."

She almost needs to remind herself that she wasn't just sprung from Metheun's sterile halls and that she did, in fact, have a family before. An absent father. A suicidal mother. She can picture it. All she has to do is close her eyes, just like her mother said before the car rammed into the side-railing, metal crumpling like tin foil.

"Dear, are you okay?" Ann asks, and Beth realizes that she hadn't said anything in response.

"How did it happen?" she asks. It's difficult to form words, like trying to push a quarter through a gummy slot.

"A heart attack, I'm afraid." She can see Ann's eyes tear up. "It's so sad. None of us saw it coming."

Beth wonders who exactly she is speaking to, and she slowly asks, "Were you his..."

"Wife? No. I'm his sister. I suppose that makes me your aunt." Beth just stares at her. "Anyway, I figured you may want to come to the wake. I know it would mean a lot to Robert. He always did regret how things happened with you and your mother."

Beth wonders what exact things her apparent aunt is referring to, as there seemed to be a rather large selection, but she only nods, watching the woman rifle through her purse before she pulls out a small folded piece of paper.

"The address of the funeral home is on here. The wake is on Saturday."

Beth takes the piece of paper and opens it up. The handwriting is clear and neat. Beth doesn't know what to say, so she says that, and Ann blinks rapidly before she says, "Thank you, dear. Anyway..." she hesitates before reaching forward and hugging Beth, who remains stiff in her arms. Ann pulls away after only a moment and says, "It's a shame to meet under such circumstances, but I am so very happy that we did."

Beth nods blankly. "Sure."

"I hope to see you Saturday."

That evening, Beth tells Benny about what happened over dinner. He looks up from his plate with surprise and asks, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she says flatly. "It's not like he was actually a father to me."

"Well, yeah, but he still was your dad," Benny returns slowly. "That has to mean something, right?"

"Not really. He didn't do any of the things a dad does. All he did was leave." She pushes her peas around her plate. "Do you know my mom actually tried to give me to him? It was just before..." she trails off, dropping her fork loudly onto the table. "Anyway, he's dead. Life goes on."

Benny watches her warily. Even with her history, this isn't exactly a normal reaction to finding out one of your parents died, and he chooses his words carefully before he asks, "So, I take it that means you're not going to his wake?"

"What would be the point?"

"I think some closure could be good," Benny offers. "Besides, your aunt sounded nice."