I was a penniless widow, living in the state-funded wing of our nursing home. When this wealthy widower, whom everyone envied, asked me to marry him so his greedy children couldn’t control his final days, I agreed. After his funeral, his lawyer gave me an envelope that changed everything.
The cold wind made the thin windows of the state-funded wing vibrate.
The radiator was whistling, but wasn’t really giving off any heat.
I sat by the window of my small shared room, watching the meticulously manicured courtyard stretch out to the brightly lit penthouse suites where the wealthy residents lived.
This courtyard was the only place where our two worlds touched.
The only place where our two worlds touched.
It was under the old oak tree that I first met Arthur.
He was an elegant man of eighty-two, who arranged his chess pieces as if nothing in the world could hurry him.
« You seem like someone who knows about quality games, » he told me.
« I know how to lose with dignity, » I replied. « That’s what poverty teaches you. »
He laughed, a warm laugh, and gestured for me to sit in the empty chair opposite him.
« That’s what poverty teaches you. »
« So sit down. It’s been years since I lost with dignity. It would do me good to train. »
We played for hours that afternoon.
He had imported tea brought in by his private chef.
I sipped it slowly, embarrassed by my worn slippers and my meager pension.
« You keep apologizing for your shoes, » Arthur remarked.
« That’s all I have. »
We played for hours that afternoon.
« Shoes take people to interesting places, » he said. « Yours took you to me. That makes them precious. »
I didn’t yet know how much I would end up relying on those afternoons.
***
Day after day, we returned to the oak tree, listening to old jazz records on his portable player, telling each other our regrets.
He told me about his late wife.
« Shoes take people to interesting places, »
I was talking to him about the children I had never had.
« You have three children, » I reminded him one day. « Where are they? »
Arthur moved his bishop and stared gloomily at the chessboard.
« They don’t care about me, » he continued. « They’re just waiting for me to die. »
« You don’t know anything about it. »
« I know Gregory, » he said. « He’s patient. He’s polite to me. And he’s up to something. I can feel it, like you can feel a storm coming before it breaks. »
« They’re just waiting for me to die. »
I didn’t know what to say.
The bitterness in her voice was too old and too deep for me to feel comfortable.
I leaned over the small table and placed my hand on hers.
« So let’s play chess and not think about storms today. »
He smiled, but his gaze remained troubled.
« You’re the only person here who doesn’t want anything from me. Do you realize that? »
I didn’t know what to say.
« I want to win a game before I die, » I teased him.
« That, » he chuckled, « you’ll have to earn. »
His daughter Evelyn came to visit him once during those weeks.
She lingered at the edge of the courtyard, observing us with a strange and conflicted expression.
Arthur gestured for her to come closer, but she shook her head and walked away.
« That was Evelyn, » Arthur told me. « She’s not like her brother. Not exactly. But she does what Gregory tells her to do. She always has. »
She shook her head and left.
« People can change, » I said.
« Some, yes, » he acknowledged. « Generally, when it costs them something. »
We sat in silence while the record crackled until the end.
Arthur suddenly seemed older, smaller against the sumptuous backdrop of his golden universe.
« Whatever happens, » he said, « promise me you’ll continue playing chess with me. »
« I promise you, » I replied, and I was completely sincere.
« People can change, »
***
Arthur’s cough was getting worse every morning.
By the third week of this harsh winter, he could barely lift a chess piece.
I was sitting next to his bed, a cup of the imported tea he loved in my hand, when the door suddenly opened without a knock.
Gregory entered first, tall and cold, followed by his sister Evelyn and three men in expensive suits, carrying leather briefcases.
The door opened suddenly.
« Dad, we need to talk about your care, » Gregory announced. « This place is costing you a fortune you don’t have. »
Arthur sat up against the pillows, his gaze piercing despite his weakness.
« It’s my money, I’ll spend it as I please, Gregory. I don’t remember inviting you. »
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