Being Alive: A The Queen's Gambit Story

Chapter Eight

For the next few months, Benny and Beth alternate visits between Kentucky and New York. They hadn't discussed a permanent solution to their problem, which both of them knew they would have to eventually, but for now their arrangement was working. The US Open is in Vegas again and they meet in the Caesar's Palace lobby. Benny makes some teasing comment but she has already dropped her luggage and thrown her arms around him.

"Geez guys, get a room," a voice says behind them. The voice belongs to one of two people, whose voices are as indiscernible as their identical faces.

"Hello boys," Benny says smoothly, his arm slung over Beth's shoulders. "Any insider tips for us?"

The twins were helping out at the tournament, no doubt swayed by the comped rooms and meals.

"You know we could disqualify you for even asking that," Mike says good-naturedly, knowing Benny was only joking.

"The Federation could have us wired for all you know," Matt adds.

"The Federation is too worried about brownnosing with Nixon to worry about who you two are talking to," Benny says.

"He has a point," Mike says. "We are very low on the totem pole."

"Did you hear Gorsky is here?" Matt says, missing the way Beth's face pales. "He wasn't supposed to come, but he got added last minute. We had to rearrange all the initial plays."

"We should rest-up before the games start this afternoon," Beth says. "It was good seeing you two."

"Yeah, you too," Mike says. "We'll see you guys later."

Beth doesn't talk on their way to the room, and after Benny opens the door she immediately runs over to the bathroom and pukes. Benny crouches next to her, rubbing her back.

"You don't have to worry about Gorsky. You could beat him in your sleep."

"I know." She stands up and washes her mouth out in the sink.

Benny can tell she doesn't want to talk about it further, and so instead he asks her, "What do you want to do for lunch? We can just order room service."

Beth nods. "That sounds great. Thanks."

She unpacks her suitcase and hangs her dresses up in the closet, carefully smoothing any wrinkles from the skirts. Benny watches her and asks, "Which one are you wearing today?"

"I'm not sure yet." She usually has each day's outfit planned in advance, but this time she had hesitated, throwing in more than enough for the three-day tournament. Her hand lingers on a cream shift dress that she brought. She planned to pair it with a turquoise cardigan, but quickly realizes she left it at home.

"How do burgers sound?" Benny asks from the bed, the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder.

"Burgers sound great."

After lunch, Beth settles on a deep green dress with white piping throughout the bodice, and she sits at the table for her first match. A short balding man sits across from her. He fidgets before they even start to play, and after her first decisive move, the fidgeting increases. In theory, all the players at the Open should be good, but she beats him in less than thirty minutes. She continued her streak, some games taking longer than others, and then she is finished for the day. Benny is still playing and she can tell from the board that it will be a long time before they are finished. Maybe even the possibility of an adjournment. Beth watches for twenty minutes or so and then stands, wandering through the casino. She stops at a roulette table and watches a group of nicely dressed couples play. As the roulette wheel spins, a familiar thought presses at the back of Beth's mind.