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Her house in Kentucky is as messy as she left it, with the stink of confinement hitting her nose while she goes in. First, she dumps the suitcase in the living room and then dials a number she has memorized.
From the other side, the breathing is hoarse, heavy. She waits some long seconds before he speaks.
‘You know what time it is?’
Benny has the unmistakable tone of the newly awakened. Beth can almost picture his tousled hair and the mark of the pillow on his cheek.
‘How did you know?’
‘What?’
‘That it was me.’
He pauses. Beth thinks she hears him clearing his throat.
‘C'mon, who else.’
‘You told me not to call you anymore… I thought you were upset.’
‘I am. But I also owe you congratulations.’
Beth closes her eyes and squeezes the phone between her hands.
‘Thank you,’ she whispers.
‘You're welcome, I knew you'd beat him.’
‘That's not why… I miss you too.’
Benny freezes on his ratty couch, breathing through his mouth. He needs time to think his answer, glad he's not paying for this call.
‘When did you find out?’
‘Just now,’ she says, even lower.
He glances around his one-room apartment, finding it stupidly huge for him.
‘New York never sleeps, you know, 24 hours open.’
His words betrays him before he notices, he's fucking honest with her. He still doesn't know if he loves it or hates it.
‘My mattress in Kentucky is already set up.’
‘Then we'll share the bed.’
Beth glances at the wristwatch Alma gave her.
‘And how long is it open?’
He pauses again, his stomach begins to growl.
‘Until you hate chess.’
She smirks and then all the fatigue of the last week falls on her.
‘I'll need some days to see what to do with the house.’
‘Just call me and I'll pick you up.’
‘Hmm, I don't think those poker games play themselves.’
Benny chuckles through his teeth.
‘I made a bundle on you. I told you I knew you'd win.’
‘You only helped me because of your bets?’
‘I did it because I have faith in you.’
Beth senses a warm tingle in her cheeks.
‘You put your money on it,’ she pauses, ‘so you really do, huh?’
‘Doesn't everybody?’
‘There's thirty three hundred here, it was just thirty.’
Jolene waves the bills as if they were a fan. Beth stirs the stew with one hand while holding a cigarette in the other.
‘Keep it, for all the birthday presents I never gave you.’
‘Are you high?’
‘Not that I know of.’
‘Crazy?’
‘Hmm, ask me again in a few years.’
‘It's... a lot of money.’
‘Wouldn't you find any use for it?’
‘It's not what—’
‘Then it's done.’
Jolene watches her smoking. Beth was always quite stoic, she saw her crying only once: after Mr. Shaibel's death, when she said she owed him ten dollars. Perhaps this is her way of settling that debt.
‘Thanks, sis. When my landlord raises me, I'll remember you.’
Beth purses her nose repeatedly before suddenly turning off the stove. Five minutes later they are dining.
‘Is it tasty?’
‘Hell yes, the rice's on point and the meat is well seasoned.’
When Jolene finishes, she plops back in her chair and enjoys the wine. Beth has left her plate halfway down and, one minute after, she's looking for another cigarette. She offers one to Jolene and she declines.
‘Have you ever been in love?’
Jolene raises an eyebrow, but says nothing. She realizes it's time to listen, not ask.
‘I don't think so, have you?’
‘Dunno. If no one knows, how can anybody recognize love?’
‘Uh-huh. So, any chess master you wanna tell me about?’
Beth drops her head on the back of her chair.
‘You know him, he was the U.S. Champion.’
‘Benny Watts? Kinda cute for being a nerd.’
‘Right?’ Beth pauses. ‘He invited me to New York with him.’
‘On vacation?’
‘Indefinite vacation, if you want.’
‘… to live?’
Beth shrugs.
‘I suppose.’
‘And what do you think?’
‘Hmm… New York's noisier than Paris, but it speaks english.’
‘Not that, him.’
‘I like him, he can help me.’
‘With?’
‘The World Championship. If I'm serious, I'll need a bunch of training.’
Somewhat stressed, Jolene drains her glass.
‘I asked for him, not for chess.’
Then, Beth rests her forearm on the table and her cheek over it. She smokes quietly, using the empty plate as an ashtray.
‘When I read something... I wanna know what he thinks about it.’
‘And you still have doubts?’
She nods, the cigarette finished.
‘Sex is good tho.’
Jolene exhales through her mouth.
‘Go. You might not know, but you want.’
Beth looks at her gratefully, her head still on the side. Jolene always shone with confidence, that's what she admires most about her.
‘How much are you paying?’
‘What? Your stew's good but not that good.’
‘No, your rent. I charge you half of what you currently pay.’
Jolene just stares at her, her jaw hanging.
‘Girl, now I know you're crazy! My apartment's a shoebox, this's a fucking mansion.’
‘That's good, right?’
‘You're… mad.’
‘If I leave, someone has to take care of the house. Who's better than you?’
‘Mad, mad woman.’
‘But will you think about it?’
Benny gets out of the car and searches for the address, but is greeted by someone he wasn't expecting. In front of him, a woman with a perfectly coiffed afro watches him half amused, half scrutinizing him.
‘You must be Jolene. I'm Benny, Benny Watts.’
Only rarely can he introduce himself without being interrupted and Benny is grateful to do so now. He's no champion here, he's just her friend's suitor.
‘Nice to meet you,’ she says.
Benny grabs the brim of his hat with his fingertips and lowers it a bit, then Jolene leaves.
‘Is the mail?’
Beth's voice comes from the house. Though loud and clear, she's not shouting. Inside, he finds her sitting on the floor of the living room, filled with boxes. Around her are scattered dozens of chess books, she flips through somewhat bored.
‘You can say so.’
She looks up at his voice. Suddenly, she feels messy, even pathetic.
‘I... didn't expect you until tonight.’
‘Want me to go?’
‘You're kidding? I can use some help.’
‘You'll take them all?’
Beth snorts.
‘I don't think so, they are too heavy.’
Benny sits by her side.
‘Then just grab the ones I don't have.’
‘What?’
‘We'll live together and we won't share our books?’
She stares at him and then seeks his lips. It tastes like an apology, a reconciliation.
Beth checks the mail and finds an envelope with a letter, the rent money and a note inside.
‘They sent me this here, I think you should change your address.
You like the cowboy, deal with it. J.’
She reads the second letter. It's from the International Chess Federation, her classification to the 1969 World Championship in Moscow. She stares at it until her mind's empty.
Benny feels the soft touch of her hand on his cheek and wakes up, his eyes still closed.
‘I smell coffee?’
‘And toasts.’
He snorts softly.
‘You know I hate crumbs on the bed.’
Beth ignores his complaint and strokes his cheek with her thumb. He remains still.
‘Would you be my second?’
He opens his eyes and gently removes her hand from his cheek, to kiss its back.
‘You really need to ask?’
‘Stop,’ she says, blushing, ‘but thanks. I wouldn't go through all that again without you.’
‘So, you... wanna talk about it?’
Beth shakes her head.
‘I've done my best... and I lost again, so fuck it.’
Benny looks at her silently.
‘What's next?’
Beth sits on the edge of the bed, her weight on her outstretched arms.
‘Is a stupid title so important? Is it worth all this constant frustration?’
Slowly, he approaches her and kneels in front of her, resting his hands on her thighs.
‘This isn't about you anymore, I still think if you can't, no one can. It's your decision, but, if you ask me—’
She looks at him from above. Benny thinks he never put himself in that place for anyone. Not even himself.
‘I'm asking you now.’
‘You should keep moving forward, Beth. For the glory, yeah, but mostly because you're the only one who can. You are alone up there.’
Her face wrinkles with confusion.
‘You... you are here with me.’
‘Bullshit, I'll never have your brain, I should be born again.’
Suddenly, he lets out a sarcastic laugh.
‘What?’
‘That movie, A star is born... the main characters resemble us.’
Beth smiles. Benny feels glad, she is not the smiling type.
‘But here the alcoholic is the girl.’
‘And the guy won't kill himself.’
He rests his head in her lap and Beth strokes his hair as she looks at his profile. She finds him even more handsome than when she first met him.
‘That job the Federation offered you… you should take it.’
‘What? We hate those fuckers.’
‘Maybe I could use... a friendly face.’
Benny glances sideways at her.
‘Seriously?’
‘I can't be the only one making sacrifices here.’
He snorts.
‘Fine, I'll make some calls.’
She leans down to kiss his temple.
‘I know what you're afraid of and... I won't get lost in the drink again. I like my mind... sharp.’
Benny hides his face in her belly. He definitely never put himself in that place for anyone before.
‘My biggest fear is... having to hear about you on TV, you not being in my life.’
Touched, Beth leans over to hug him.
‘I thought you knew me, I don't make the same mistakes twice.’
So, Benny pulls back to look at her eyes.
‘You give me your word?’
‘The hell I do.’
‘Then I give you mine: no more gambling.’
Beth plays with the bubbles in the jacuzzi. Through the window, she sees the sunset behind the Eiffel Tower. Suddenly, Benny appears with a bottle of champagne.
‘What are we celebrating?’
‘It's been a good year,’ he says, diving in. ‘You renewed as U.S. Champion, I work with assholes yet the pay's good, and now we're vacationing in your favorite city.’
‘You got me, give me a glass.’
And they toast. After, Benny sits up on his calves and shows her a small box he hid in his hand. Beth hears her own breathing quicken.
‘You make me want to be a better man and I'd like this to last. Will you be my all-powerful Queen while I'm your King who only moves up one square at a time?’
He shows her the ring and Beth stares at his eyes.
‘Are you... serious?’
‘As never before.’
She feels emotions welling up inside her.
‘Yes, I will.’
‘So be it,’ he says, putting on her ring.
‘Now what?’ Beth asks, ‘what's next after this?’
Benny leans in to kiss her and then reaches for her ear.
‘Do I really have to say it?’
‘Sex?’
‘Not only, also getting to the top and staying there.’
‘Check.’
Vasily Borgov scans the board with anxious eyes. He always knew that he couldn't be the world's best permanently, things came and went and eventually someone would come along to beat him. At his game, the Russians' game.
‘Congratulations. Victory is yours,’ and then, he loses the World Championship.
They shake hands and Beth walks away. Suddenly, a tide of reporters rushes over her, looking for her picture, her declaration. But she keeps them waiting when Benny comes to hug her.
‘You knew something. You actually trusted me all along, didn't you?’
‘Really, doesn't everybody?’
Beth thinks of Mr. Shaibel. Maybe so.
In Kentucky, Jolene receives a copy of The New York Times. The cover photo shows her friend shaking hands with Borgov.
‘Beth Harmon, the former Queen of Chess, was declared World Champion 1972, the first American to achieve it.
Long live the Empress!’