Love after Chess
Chapter 2: Not forgotten
Florence stared out of the window, the move went very well. Every part of furniture had been placed on the right spot. Her books were placed in the book case, some part of her still wanted to learn another language. Mostly Russian, her Hungarian was getting a bit rusty. Yet if she took a chance to speak it a bit more, it would coming rushing back to her. Yet her mind went to Anatoly and her pregnancy. She hadn't mentioned that thing to her father, they had spent the past couple of days searching for anything he needed. Decorating his room had turned out to be more difficult. Yet when he got a new chess board, they spent all their nights finding new strategies to use. He was talking about heading to the chess championship next year, but Florence had never reacted to it.
It was their thing, chess had always been. They needed to get closer, before she dropped the big baby bomb. She hadn't talked to her father, about her mother either. The story was something she never truly got in her. And right now with the hormones going through her body, she would fall in to tears. Somehow she was glad that chess was the only thing they talked about. And now he stepped in the room once more again, holding the new chess board she bought him.
"Van kedve egy játék a sakk?" He asked if she wanted to play a game in Hungarian. He had been speaking Hungarian to her. And she always understood what he was saying, yet it wasn't her first feeling to answer in English.
"Igen, én nagyon várom azt." Florence laughed as she sat down over him. "Fehér vagy fekete?"
"Ön dönti el." He moved her hand towards her. She was able to choose between black and white, that was her favorite thing about playing with her father. He agreed to whatever she choose and sometimes she felt more like playing with the white figurines and other times she was in a mood to play with the black figurines. Maybe that was her emotion.
"Fekete." She chose the black side.
"Jól vagy, Florence?" He asked her if the choice of black had anything to do with her not being okay. His eyes stared at her.
"Én nem érzem, beszélni róla. Tudunk csak sakkozni?" She stared at him, like she said. She didn't feel like talking about it. She just wanted to play chess.
"Fogsz beszélünk róla később?" She didn't want, but she knew some time the baby bomb had to fall. And if she waited any longer, he would start noticing.
She didn't say anything back. She just nodded her head. Now they placed the figurines on the board. Florence kept her attention to his face. She kept her attention to the game and pushed everything off her mind. Maybe now she started to understand why Anatoly loved chess so much, but she would never pick chess over the person she loved. She would actually have picked him over chess. Yet he hadn't felt the same way and he wasn't thinking about her in any way.
"Florence, miért nem vesz részt a sakk bajnokságot?" He spoke about him not understand why she hadn't been the champion, but the second instead.
"Én nem vagyok olyan jó, mint gondolod. Én nyerni a Freddie és Anatolij. Ez nem jelent semmit, apa." She replied that she wasn't good enough to win and that she could win from Freddie or Anatoly, but that didn't mean anything. She returned her eyes to the board.
"Ez azt jelenti, hogy van tehetsége. Azt hiszem, akkor igazán jól, Florence."
She doubted if she would actually win, yet she had never really thought about competing herself. Her father was actually the first person that given her faith that she would be able to win. She stared at the pieces once more again. Time passed by as they played more than one game. She was so happy, that it seemed so easy to play together again. It almost seemed like she was 5 years old again. As the chess game ended, a smile appeared on Gregor's face.
"Tehát ne hiányzik, Anatolij?" Off course she missed him, nodding her head was a simple movement to show that emotion that was heading up in her.
"Ez mi a baj?" He put his hand to hers. He asked again what was wrong, why she was acting in this way. His eyes were right on hers as a tear came from her eyes.
"I'm pregnant." She had no idea how to say that in Hungarian. It wasn't one of the things she would have told her father at 5 years old and she would never have told her mother. So she simple never learned the word. His mouth fell open, as his speechless nature got too much to her. "Apa, mondj valamit!"
"Nem is tudom, mit mondjak. Tudja?" She wouldn't have known what to say either, so she couldn't ask her father much more either. She shook her head, telling him he had no idea. Should she tell him. She had no idea how her father would react, what he would say. Yet the second thing on his mind was to put his arms around her, trying to help her. It did make everything better. Somehow a part of the pain went away.
"Van egy felesége." She whispered. Her father stroke her hear as he tried to calm her down again. It was only now the pain of Anatoly came to her again. When she admitted to her father about the child she was having. She was taking great care of herself, yet telling someone made the truth even bigger. Like she wouldn't be able to lie to herself anymore. The best thing about everything was her father, he hadn't been mad. They didn't talk about it more than they should. With those small words everything was everything said.
As the chess game ended, Florence watched her father prepare supper. It seemed he took a chance to get as much vegetables as possible. He would say it was good for his future grandchild and that her mother should have seen this. He was clearly very happy about the baby, even if most people would stare after her for having a baby outside of wedlock. Even if she would say, that the father was locked in a wedding. It wasn't to her, but that was not the point. She sat down as she smiled to him.
Every day was the same, they would always play a game of chess. Even more if it wasn't a sunny day, which mostly didn't happen in the winter. So they spent their days, in the exact same way. It wasn't lonely, they were perfectly happy just the two of them. And as the months passed by, Florence found out about the triplets. Having one baby made her scared, but having three would make her even more scared. The doctor said he couldn't know for sure what the sex of each baby would be. They didn't bring science that far. And as 1882 happened, the championship of chess started again. Freddie was playing his way to the world championship once more again, to play again to Anatoly. Would he be able to win this time? The press had a field day with this thing. She would write simple stories in the papers. She wrote her thinking on the moves of the players as she watched it once more again. She would write her findings on who would win the next time and even a nice story she shared with some of them. But when Anatoly's game passed by, she would keep her pen quiet. Almost like she didn't know what to write. She did write that he was a nice person and a brilliant chess player. The fact that she was able to beat him more than 15 times made the article too. It seemed like she was trying to make herself look better, yet hat was the truth.
But even then, people loved her. People in the chess world knew her as the second of world champions. Some even asked why she didn't return more actively in the world of competitive chess and some even wanted her to attend the competitions. However she was always able to turn that offer down, as she said she feared flying more than anything in this world. Her father was another reason why she didn't want leave him. And always had people understood what they said.
Time passed by as her stomach started the sign of pregnancy. Everything became too much and her emotions became a burden. She was unable to control it. She spent more time resting or laying time. There was also a part of herself that wanted to play chess. And when she was busy doing so, she could pull a part of her mind of the pregnancy. Sometimes they would talk about Freddie, who seemed to make his way back to the competition in October. She would give birth to her kids in the beginning of August. She looked forward to it, yet a small part of her dying in labor. It was the fear of every mother, because it was something that was always a scary possibility.
As time passed by, the spare attack started to look more and more than the nursery. The walls were a simple purple, the same color she and Anatoly both liked. It only seemed fare that the only color Anatoly truly like would have the biggest part in the room of her future children. There were 3 cribs, for each of them. There was a dresser with small clothes in it, after she had mentioned the child to Freddie he made it a common habit to send clothes to her. Both clothes for a boy and a girl, in every city he won a competition. Which by now was every time. A small note talking about Anatoly was there too. He said he had seen him shortly. And that he was always by himself. He had never seen Svetlana or Malakov. Yet he hadn't told more about Anatoly, not about his state of mind anyway. Part of her would make her happy that he would have been miserable. That he couldn't live without her. That he would run back to her, he would ask Freddie where she was. He would run in her arms and they would be a happy family. Yet that would never happen. All her books in the spare room, told her that it could happen. Yet in real life, no one ever became happy. In the end the child would bring her the only happiness she needed. She smiled as she moved her hand over her stomach. The beginning of July, brought her in her 9th month of pregnancy. She started to look forward to giving birth, her doctor told her that it was in her best interest to take it easy.
She played a game of chess with her father, sleep and have meals. There was nothing more she could do. Her father had transformed himself as the man who had to keep the house clean. When she got out of the bed, she saw that she sometimes wasn't happy with the results. She was however at her best when she didn't look at anything and think about what she would do about the whole situation.
It was the first day of August, she awoke of a horrible pain. A pain that couldn't be described. She was going to give birth, she simple knew it.
The temperature in Merano was the same as the year he became champion for the first time. Yet right now it was not the last game, it was just another game. He didn't play Freddie either, just another player of America. It wouldn't take much pressure to beat him. The truth was that he beat the man with his full attention on Florence. He was thinking about her eyes, about her hair. Every little detail about her, was one that he kept closer. His sacrifice made it so her father was by her side. She was happy now. And as the game ended, he saw that Florence smiled at him in his mind. She gave him a small playful kiss, luckily this was not considered cheating. If it was, he was guilty of it.
The truth about his marriage was sad, Svetlana had become even more distant, since her knowledge of his infidelity in their marriage. She talked about Florence all the time, about how she was. She liked to use it against her, how he should be careful. She said that he could never be unfaithful once more again. And he wouldn't, since his heart belonged to Florence. Part of him felt sorry for her. Since he wanted to give her someone who could love her, yet that person wasn't him. The worst thing was that his daughters were also aware of everything had happened. They didn't talk to him anymore, not that had changed. He was never really a big part of their life, chess took him away too many times in a year. If you didn't show any affection in the days you were home, children would not feel love towards a father they didn't know.
A small part of him wanted to see her right here, but she wasn't Freddie's second. And if she was, he had done a great job in hiding her. As he stepped on the elevator, Freddie stepped right next to him. Now it was his chance, he turned to him.
"So Florence is doing a great job of hiding herself. She…"
"Florence is not my second." Freddie replied "I haven't seen her in a while. Florence didn't want to be my second, maybe she feared seeing you."
"I can understand." Anatoly smiled. "She's okay."
"Yeah, she is." Freddie nodded his head. "She is doing very well. She's writing for the newspaper, she's doing a great jog. I'm sure you haven't read any of her stuff."
"I did, when I heard that Florence was writing for a newspaper I wanted to read it." Anatoly smiled "She is very funny. It's the truth, she did win chess games. I should be ashamed, I'm not."
"Off course you're not." Freddie laughed "Florence is a very talented chess player. So sad, she hadn't dared to play chess just yet."
"She's cunning." Anatoly put his head to his hand. "I never told her to play chess, I should have. It was her passion, but I never told her to follow it. It seems that giving her father was the only right thing I ever did."
Florence stared at the baby in the crib, a girl. Her name was Anna Marie, a name that she had picked out. She knew most times, the parents would pick the names together. Yet that was not the same for her. Anna Marie was in the middle crib, right next to her brother on the left side and her sister on her right. Anna Marie, Ilona and Sander. Her father loved the children, and they were the light of her light. All three of them had the thick curly hair. They inherited it from their father. But they had her eyes, blue eyes. Yet some people told that it blue eyes changed to different colors later on.
She hoped they would keep her eyes. They were a trade about herself she loved the most. So, she believed her children should be blessed with them. Yet the dark eyes of Anatoly were something she loved too. They were deep and so dark. You could write a lot of stories about those eyes, yet not one story be able to show its perfection.
She picked the baby up from the crib as she brought Anna Maria closer to her face. A smile on the small child's face brought her so much happiness. This child was so important to her and part of her wand to fly to Russian and show them her children. When she turned around, her father was staring at her.
"Azt hiszem, meg kell mondani neki?" Florence turned to him, she needed his opinion. Did she need to tell Anatoly about his child. Her father stared at her, as if he thought the answer would come to her. Yet when her eyes wouldn't leave her face. He sat down on the bed. They had put it in the room so she could use it as her room. Running up and down the stairs wasn't that easy, so Florence decided to sleep in here.
"Ez rajtad múlik, drágám." Giving him not more of an opinion.
"Tényleg?" She walked around in the room. Not understanding why he didn't say more than she would know what to do.
"Van egy véleményt. Mondd meg, mit tegyek!" She had tears in her eyes, she didn't know what to do. He needed to tell her. "Fogalmam sincs, mit tegyek."
"Ezt a döntést csak te cam tenni." You can only decide it, that was easy to say.
"Annyira dühös vagyok vele, nem akarom őket látni. Én nem akarom, hogy baja essen, mint én sérült meg." She told her father about her anger towards him. That she didn't want her children to get hurt. So, she turned around. "Nem akarok hibázni."
"Kövesd a szíved." Her father told her to follow her heart. And her heart told her not to tell. She hadn't forgotten him, but the pain about him should be forgotten. So right now she made the decision not to tell. She was sure that would change. Right now, she didn't tell.