Check & Mate by Ali Hazelwood

I groan. Between hiccups. Mom lets out a soft laugh and pulls me closer with an arm around my shoulders, like she doesn’t hate me for calling 67 percent of the people she gave birth to bitches.

“I think I’m doing this wrong,” she says gently. “Maybe before we talk about the World Championship, we should talk about your dad.”

I instantly shake my head. “No, I— I’m sorry. I was way out of line. We don’t have to— ”

“But we do.” Her lips press together, and her expression morphs into something sad. “It’s been over a year, and I take responsibility for not doing it earlier. For a long time, I lied to myself that I was doing you a favor. That you were deeply hurt, and didn’t need to be re-traumatized.”

“I’m not.” I wipe my eyes and let out a phlegmy laugh. “I am not the one who’s traumatized. You are the one who got cheated on. Sabrina and Darcy are the ones who grew up without a father. I am the one who made it happen— I am the bitch here.”

“No, no, no.” Mom shakes her head, looking crestfallen. “See? That’s why we should have discussed this. You are not responsible for any of that. You know who is?” A beat. Her eyes shine in the late afternoon light. “Your father. Your father made some terrible, cruel, careless choices. And part of why I don’t talk to you girls about him as much as I should is that it’s very difficult, even years later, for me to come to terms with the person he’d become toward the end. But I will never hold you responsible for any of it.”

“You should. It was my fault. If I hadn’t— ”

“Mal, our histories are not made of ifs and buts. Although, if this is the game you want to play: if you hadn’t told me about what you’d seen at that tournament, I would have found out anyway. Because it wasn’t the first time he’d done that. And your father had a long history of dealing with problems with alcohol, and he’d had two DUIs before his accident, so even if he had still been living at home, there’s a good chance that what happened would have happened anyway.”

I take a shuddering breath, thinking about Dad. How much I miss him. How he could have done that to us. “Sabrina blames me for it. And she’s right— ”

“No, I don’t.”

I glance at the door. Sabrina is leaning against the doorframe, glaring at me.

“I know you do.” I’m sobbing again. “And you have every right. I stole Dad from you, and— ”

“I don’t, you bitch. And I never did.” She looks down at her feet. “However, I am familiar with your Red Cross nurse tendencies and with your habit of shouldering the universe, Atlasstyle.” She swallows. “So I may have used the knowledge that you blame yourself for every damn thing to ever happen to my advantage. When you piss me off.”

Mom sighs. “Sabrina.”

“I apologize, okay?” she says defensively. “I didn’t think you felt this bad about it— it’s not like you show emotions, ever. But it also is your fault, a little bit. It used to be fun, hanging out with you. We’d do stuff without Mom and Dad and Darcy, and I’d feel like you and I were a thing. You treated me like a person. Now it’s like you’re ready to narc me out on anything I do. You give me orders and act all superior and like you’re trying to be Mom. You treat me more like a child now than you did when I was a child— ” Her voice breaks, and she quickly bends her neck to hide her tears. “Maybe I’m a bitch, but I’m not ungrateful. I’m very grateful, actually. I know how much you do, and if you didn’t try to be so secretive about it, maybe I could actually show it. But if you want, I can send you a thank- you card, or— ”

She stops between sniffles, and I want to stand, I want to go hug her, I want to tell her that it’s okay and I don’t want her stupid card, I just want my sister to stop crying. But Mom’s hand closes around mine.

“When you stopped playing chess, Mal, I assumed that you did it because your father’s actions made it too painful for you. I assumed you’d find your way back to it once you were healed. And when you decided not to go to college . . . well, you seemed genuinely hurt and offended whenever I tried to talk you out of it, so I told myself that you were an adult, and were making choices that were best for you and your well- being, and I had to respect that.

“But when Darcy told me about your fellowship, it occurred to me for the first time that maybe there were other reasons. That maybe your main goal was to protect me from something, and if that’s the case . . . let me tell you something: when I think about chess, I don’t think about Archie, or about the other women.” She smiles through her tears. “When I think about chess, I think about my brilliant oldest daughter, doing what she loves, and kicking ass while she’s at it.” Her chin trembles. “I watched you at the Challengers, Mal. Hours and hours of you being so beautiful in your”— she lets out a wet laugh— “in your Corpse Bride dress. And even though I couldn’t understand one single thing you were doing, I was so proud of you— ”

I can’t look at her anymore. I can’t bear one more word, so I hug her. More forcefully than I should, given her joint issues. And she hugs me back, her arms around mine, like she used to when I was little and needed my mom. And when I hear a putupon “Oh, fine,” and Sabrina’s arms close around us, I feel whole in a way I haven’t in over four years.