Page 2 of Playing For Keeps

“I’m sorry, I know how much that bothers you.”

“I know I complain about it all the time. You’re a freaking saint.” Corinne was overly kind, as usual. Corinne confiding in her, needing her, was comforting. It was nice to be somebody to someone.

“That’s what friends are for!” She frowned, recalling the mention of Luis bringing one of his own along. “Speaking of, is this person a recruit for the group or is this one of your thinly-veiled attempts to set me up with someone?”

Farren tried to keep the suspicion from her voice. She didn’t mind, most of the time. Corinne was happily married and had seemingly made it her life’s mission to lead others down the same path. It wasn’t that Farren didn’t want another boyfriend, or eventually a husband, but they usually didn’t want her the way she was.

Farren was used to being fat. She’d gotten over worrying about being the biggest person in the room. It was too exhausting. But times like blind dates and set-ups were harder to ignore. She was tired of men who only wanted to hang out behind closed doors, with even fewer prospects wanting the ‘real’ deal. Those who did got serious far too quickly, and that in itself was a massive red flag. Farren was done being hidden, tired of meeting up with people, especially after a few phone conversations, and having the look on their face change when they saw her. She knew her worth and deserved better than that. There was a lot of her to love—her big personality, her overzealous laugh, her soft body that didn’t fit quite right in a world built for a more acceptable size.

“No, I swear. I behaved myself this time. Besides, they’re not into women. Luis is actually hoping to set them up with Cute Chris.” Corinne’s words sent a shiver of relief through her. Game night was her escape, it was where she could be who she was, enjoy what she loved, and not have to be “on” or performative. There were no squabbling kids, no bills piling up, no need to be anything other than what she was: an unapologetic board game geek.

“Okay, good. I’ll see if I can help, but the moment Chris looks like he wants an out, I’m giving it to him. You know he’s only recently single, the last thing he needs is pressure,” Farren reminded her friend. Chris didn’t need her help, not really. But she would have wanted someone to do the same for her if needed, so she kept the option open.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you soon?” Corinne asked.

“See you soon!” Farren answered, and when her phone beeped to signal the end of the call, she left it on the bed to finish getting ready.

She fluffed her hair, body bent over as she scrunched curl cream into it to try and combat the sticky September humidity. Washington D.C. was a joke. Up north, people were already enjoying the leaves turning, crisp evenings after the sun completed its lazy descent under the horizon. Her mother had posted on Facebook about the new red hues outside their home. Rural New England was a world away from where Farren found herself now. Five years in D.C. was almost enough to make her a city-girl.

Leggings on, “Let’s Connect” shirt eased over her curls so she didn’t muss them, Farren slung her purse over her shoulder. Sneakers were tugged on by the door, her tote bag with games clasped in her hand. She ignored the bills and that box on the coffee table, and started the trek toward the coffee shop that hosted their weekly game nights.

Capitol Cafe—home to nightly events, artisanal baked goods, and mediocre coffee. The first place she’d found after moving here that actually made her want to stay, not tuck tail and run back home.

The coffee shop was always warm, and would be, even in the winter. The old wooden floors were scarred with years of use. The sage green walls were filled with local art. A couple of comfortable chairs were gathered around a nook in the back, replete with some books and magazines. Gamers occupied the tables in the middle while other cafe-goers sat by the long tables pressed against the floor-to-ceiling window, staring out at the city.

She grabbed her first drink for the night. Despite the lingering heat of the dying summer, Farren opted for a hot chocolate and headed over to claim a table, pulling boxes out to show she was here to play and open to people joining in.

Cute Chris was there, grabbing his own drink, and they exchanged a wave. Farren had no clue about the nickname’s origin; he’d only ever been Cute Chris when anyone referred to him in private. Still, it made her laugh, so she carried on with the tradition.

He came over to her table, tight curls carefully styled, dimples cutting into his cheeks, smile bright and cheerful against his dark skin.

“Hey, how’ve you been?” Chris asked.

“Hanging in there. Started with a new class today after very little notice, so it’s been a day. You?” She took a sip of her drink, relishing the sweet heat.

“Irate customers as usual. I need to get out of retail. I’m worried I’ll eye-roll myself into another dimension if one more person asks me to ‘go check the back,’ as if we all have no idea of our own inventory and it’s going to magically show up when we open the door. The only magical thing in there is the chair with the throw pillow we take turns screaming into when we need to ‘check in the back,’” his words tumbled out, smile fading as frustration leached into every syllable.

Farren understood; she’d done her own stint in retail. Along with food service, babysitting, sales, and dog walking. “That bad, huh?” she sympathized.

“And more. I can’t wait until I’ve finished my course and I can actually work in a field I’m interested in.” He tasted his drink as he watched more people filing into the space. Farren swallowed her own sip to distract herself from the thoughts swirling in her mind at his comment, the dread and guilt she felt at the reminder of her failure to do the same.

“How long do you have left to go?” Farren asked, her attention slightly diverted by the people coming in, her eyes keeping a keen lookout for Corinne and the mystery guest they had planned for Chris.

He slurped his drink softly. “Forty more hours. I’m so close, I can taste it.”

“That would be the coffee, actually,” Farren replied with a smirk. Chris rewarded her with one of his aforementioned eye rolls, and they broke out into easy laughter.

“Want to get a game in before everyone shows up?” she asked.

“Sure, what did you bring?”

Square boxes spread out from her pile, a few smaller games, all different colors, vibrant and full of promise.

“Got some games for a bigger group, but as far as two-player games go, I brought ‘Pink Hijinks,’ ‘Martian Chess’—which are both Looney Labs games. I also just picked up this one.”

Farren lifted the little metal tin, shiny black and red illuminated under the lights. “It’s called ‘Niya’. The art on the tiles is super pretty, and I’ve heard it compared to ‘Tic-Tac-Toe’ or ‘Connect Four.’”

Farren pushed all three games closer to him.

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