“Don’t rely too much on your queen,” he said. “The queen is the most powerful piece, but she can’t win the game without the help of the other pieces.”
Dan’s previous words echoed, and I felt a tear slip down my cheek as I finished setting up the board. I stared at it for a long time before I grabbed one of the lighter colored pawns, moved it up two spaces, and went to bed.
The stairs creaked as I slowly edged my way to the second floor of the house. Sleeping in my grandparents’ room wasn’t an option. It was haunted by an intoxicating cloud of my grandmother’s perfume and my grandfather’s cologne. The bed was made and the room wastidy, but it looked lived in, like they could return any moment. One of the smaller guest bedrooms seemed like a better alternative.
I did wear one of my grandmother’s old nightgowns because I didn’t have a choice. It carried the heavy flowery scent of her perfume, and it sparked another memory. My grandmother—I remembered we used to call her Granny—was wearing a nightgown similar to this one. Hell, it might have been this one. It was cream colored and soft. In my memory it reached Granny’s ankles—on me, the gown hit midcalf. Annie and I were tucked into the same bed, and our grandmother was singing us to sleep with “Short’nin’ Bread.” After the memory dissolved, leaving me with a feeling of warmth, I briefly considered not leaving in the morning but quickly dismissed the thought. My life was in Atlanta, not on this farm.
The alarm was set early enough that I could hopefully slip out before anyone noticed—anyone, meaning Dan. But that’s not the way farms worked. I was awakened by the loud crowing of a rooster a full thirty minutes before my alarm was supposed to go off. I got up, quickly dressed, and went downstairs to find a note on the kitchen table.
Emma
There’s coffee in the coffee maker. All you have to do is push the button. Your car is outside.
Dan
The car keys were next to the note, and sure enough, when I pushed the button on the coffee maker, fresh-brewed deliciousness dripped into the waiting mug. It was a thoughtful gesture, but I wondered if he was afraid of me rifling through the kitchen. Maybe he made coffee for everyone. Maybe I was just a miserable, jaded person who didn’t know how to recognize kindness.
When I woke up this morning, I was intent on getting back to Atlanta as soon as I possibly could. Yet, while walking around the house sipping my coffee, I no longer felt the urgency. I walked into my grandfather’s study and noticed that one of the pawns from the opposing side had been moved up two spaces, directly in front of the one I had moved. I felt the familiar competitive stirring in my belly that I used to feel during a chess match in high school. Your competitor’s opening told you exactly what kind of player you were up against. Dan was a player who liked to antagonize his opponents. My fingers itched to answer his move. I could probably beat him in twelve moves—twenty if I was underestimating his skill—but I thought better of it.
This wasn’t my game to play. Despite what the lawyer said, this certainly didn’t feel like my farm. This wasn’t my life.
I finished my coffee, grabbed the keys, and pointed my newly repaired car toward home. In four hours I would be back to the life I knew and the things that made sense.
CHAPTER THREE
So.” Max’s voice dropped, and she pursed her lips. “What did he do this time?” She tilted her head at the large floral arrangement of pink peonies and peach blossoms. Teddy had sent one to my office every day since I returned. When I told him about my ordeal with the flat tire and having to spend the night on my grandparents’ farm, he said he regretted not coming with me and had been apologizing all week.
“He felt bad about not attending the will reading with me, so he’s trying to apologize.”
“How sweet,” she said in a bored voice, slid the attached card out of the envelope, and scanned it. “Are these song lyrics?”
“‘Miss Independent’ by Ne-Yo. It’s how he got me to go out on a date with him.” I smiled at the memory.
Teddy had been pursuing me since freshman year, but I’d told him that I was in school to get my BA, not my MRS—a directquote from my mother. Plus, Teddy had a reputation with other girls at my school and I wasn’t interested in being his next conquest.
During homecoming weekend sophomore year, Teddy and his fellow pledges sang “Miss Independent” to me at a crowded house party before he asked me out on a date. He was handsome, popular, and from a prominent Atlanta family. Teddy could’ve had any girl at that party, but he wanted me. Even though I’d been turning him down for almost a year, he wanted me.
He was clever enough to know that I wasn’t going to turn him down in such a public setting, and he was right. I agreed to one date only, during the daytime, in a public place, and I would be bringing my roommate. Our first date was a double date at Six Flags Over Georgia. I quickly discovered there was more to Teddy Baker than a pretty face and family legacy. He was incredibly intelligent and passionate about his future. But what really attracted me to Teddy was the side of him that he only shared with me.
Teddy’s frat brothers would never know that he cries every time he watchesThe Color Purple, or that he has a pair of lucky socks that he wore for exams and now wears to court. He could also be sweet. I remember how he gave me his sweatshirt to wear during our date while we waited in line for the Scream Machine. He refused to let me give it back to him, even when I could see his arms were covered in goose bumps. I’d fallen in love with him that day.
I still saw glimpses of that Teddy every now and then, but lately it felt like we were drifting further and further away from those nineteen-year-old kids who were crazy in love and ready to conquer any challenge together. Maybe that’s how all relationships are. We werenot teenagers anymore. I blamed the stress of our jobs and Teddy’s political aspirations for the growing distance. Would his upcoming state senate run finally break us or force us to find each other again?
“Em? Em? Earth to Emma?” Max’s voice, at first distant, came into focus as I turned to gaze at her. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, Max. I’m fine.” I tore my gaze away from Teddy’s flowers and turned to face her.
“Well, you don’t look fine. You look like you’ve been somewhere else all week.”
She was right. My body was in Atlanta, but my mind was four hours away on a farm.
“Come on; let’s go to lunch so we can talk about it.” She stood from her desk and hoisted a new designer bag over her shoulder with an excessive flourish.
“Is that a new bag?” I asked, taking the bait, much to her delight.
“Oh, this old thing?” she said with feigned nonchalance before squealing, “Yes! They’re not even out yet. A friend of one of my connections does media relations for LVMH. I called in a few favors to get his kid into a private school in Manhattan… et voila! New Louis for me, to say thank you.” She twirled and took a bow, making me laugh. A lunch with Maxima Clarke would have been just what I needed to lift my spirits, but unfortunately, I had more pressing matters to attend to.
“I would love to go to lunch, but sadly, I can’t.”
