“You can team up, then. Set up the board. You play white.”
“Do you drink coffee?” Stefan asks absently as he starts to put the pieces into their starting positions.
“Yes. Not that you can call the stuff they serve here coffee. It’s more like flavoured dishwater.”
Stefan laughs. “Next time we visit, I’ll bring you some Sumatran coffee. It’ll taste amazing paired with the dark chocolate.”
Granddad rubs his hands together. “I look forward to it. You’re a coffee connoisseur?”
“I try to be.”
I roll my eyes. “He is. He has a whole cupboard dedicated to coffee.”
“Have you tried Kopi Luwak coffee?” Granddad asks him.
“Yes. It’s an acquired taste.”
Granddad chuckles. “That it is. I didn’t really like it,” he says in a conspiratorial whisper. “But at least I can say I’ve tried it.”
“Same.”
“What’s so special about it?” I ask.
“The way it’s produced is.” Stefan grimaces. “Unique.”
Granddad cackles. “Civet cats eat the coffee berries and then shit out the beans.”
My stomach turns, and I hook my lip. “Gross.” I stare at them both, horrified. “You’ve drunk that?”
“It’s got an interesting flavour,” Stefan says. “It’s one of the most expensive coffees in the world.”
“I have no words. I’m glad I don’t drink coffee.”
Stefan laughs. “The beans are thoroughly cleaned. The act of passing through the civet cat’s digestive system changes—"
I put my hand up. “Stop right there. I don’t want to know. Chess?”
Stefan brushes his lips over my ear. “a2 to a4?”
I nod and move our left-most pawn forward two spaces. Granddad responds by moving his right-hand knight from our perspective. The knight is the only piece on the board that can jump other pieces.
“Should we do the same?” Stefan whispers. “I feel like we’ve already lost.”
A laugh bubbles out of me, impossible to contain. I let my heavy head rest on Stefan’s shoulder. For now, at least, he’ll be playing the game alone. He moves our right-hand knight so it’s directly opposite the one Granddad moved.
Granddad is totally focused on the game, all jovial chit-chat about cat shit-coffee seemingly forgotten. He moves a pawn forward one space to sit beside his knight. Stefan copies him.
Granddad chuckles. “I hope you’ve got a better strategy than that.” He moves his bishop one space.
“No, not really,” Stefan replies, making the same move on our side of the board.
I hope he’s bullshitting, or we’re definitely going to lose. I have beaten Granddad once or twice, but not often. Granddad makes a castling move, just as I regain control of my body. I take over, moving one of our pawns forward two spaces. Chuckling, Granddad copies our move.
“You’re going to make me laugh again,” I mutter.
“Perhaps that’s part of my strategy.” Granddad winks at me. Then his expression sobers. “How are you?”
“I’m good.” I play our next move. I smile at Stefan and squeeze his hand. “Better than good.”
