SS41:
"Long Live The Queen"
*****
This stars one of the married couples from the story "How To Wage A Wargasm": the Phelpses, Leyna and Cyndi. Some of it may not be for everyone—i.e., non-chess folk, so I tried to break it down for Readers who don't play. Feel free to skip the game segment if you don't like or get chess—I'm going to boldface all the moves if you wish to take this option—though there is nice action between the combatants leading up to post-play. Also, fun fact: this is the most times I've used English's least common letter, 'q,' in a story.
*****
Wednesday, May 7th, 2014, 5:45 p.m.
It was a lovely late spring afternoon. The days grew longer with each circadian span up to the solstice the following month. The outdoor air caressed citizens with a loving vernal kiss of 70°F, comparable to that of comfy building interiors.
Rush-hour traffic carried day workers at its more controlled pace. Some individuals adjourned straight home for a nice, well-deserved nap. Some greeted their families and started supper, or engaged in a recreational activity. Some hopped online to resume social networking and other cyber-play. Some stopped off at the store or the bar. Some nestled into the couch with a book or the remote control.
Financial planning wizard Leyna Iona Phelps was especially eager to arrive home this day, as she was expecting a very special package. She was so excited, it was all she could do to fling her cherry red Impala alongside the curb and seize the wieldy post from the mailbox. She ran to the stoop fast as she could in low heels, and gasped in glee to see the outside door propped open, by a large box just inside.
"Yay!" So jazzed was she by the arrival of this gift from herself to herself, Leyna fumbled with her keys, and dropped them. Once inside, she bounded the stairs with the box at a rate she'd have never achieved under normal circumstances. She placed it on the dining room table, dashed to find the scissors and cut it open. It'd be another hour or two till her beloved bride Cyndi'd come home. Ample time to play with the toy on her own first.
The package had been shipped priority from China, where the product inside was manufactured. She recognized the return address on the corner, and that was definitely hers right there in the center.
LEYNA PHELPS
1705 SILVER WILLOW AVENUE, GREEN PLAINS COUNTY
JUNIPER, MN 56049
Once she got it open, Leyna flipped up the flaps and fished into the sea of Styrofoam peanuts. They cascaded off as she lifted out the box within the box. The treasure was wrapped in a translucent foam sheet, but still through it, she could tell it was even more beautiful than the photo in the catalog.
It was a Renaissance glass and marble chess set. Imaginably, it cost a pretty penny, and Leyna was plenty proud of herself for getting her paws on it. It was an amazing find in collectors' circles due to its incredible rarity; less than a
dozen
sets were pressed. Leyna'd loved the game of chess since five, when her Dad taught her to play. Quick study that she was, by the age of six, she was already toppling him left and right. At seven, her folks began entering her in tournaments. As she closed in on birthday eight, she dethroned the Minnesota children's division champion to take the title herself.
Had she kept playing past nine, possibilities of a future in the game may have developed. But her interests shifted from year to year. She'd still play if her Dad or a friend fancied a match, but otherwise branched into different activities with each year. A part of her, however, had always and would always love the grand game. Her state trophy was still prominently displayed with their other valuables.
Lately she'd begun to get into it again. With the limitless venues of chessplay and other cerebral fitness available online, she'd never a shortage of worthy opponents. The game excited her, filling her to this day with the same childhood wonder she'd held—logically, as a child. Sometimes she imagined herself in medieval war, keeping watch over her double-queendom with her wife Cyndi, who'd go out and fight bravely for her honor. She didn't relish the idea of throwing Cyndi into the middle of the battleground rather than herself, but someone had to defend the monarchy. And frankly, things stood a much better chance under Cyndi's protection.
Cynthia Laurie Phelps—née Bieman—was a handywoman, one of the most proficient in town. She had to battle for leadership of her profession, but with Leyna's money-savvy finesse they made a very nice living. Fortunately, Cyndi wasn't on call past standard self-employed hours. So Leyna needn't worry about their evening disturbed by faulty wiring, leaky plumbing, or other shoddy work. Cyndi knew the basics of chess, but wasn't the maven her wife was. But had Cyndi also spent childhood with bishops and rooks, she would not have done so on the girls' swim team, there fostering her Sapphic sexuality.
Cyndi worked 8:00 to 6:00 Monday through Friday and 10:00 to 5:00 on Saturday. So like innumerable others, Sunday was hers to either kick back and relax or party hearty. Leyna put in a steady 9:00 to 5:00 each weekday—lunch generously included in her pay schedule—though the nature of her work sometimes involved bringing it home to finish. But her wife didn't mind. Leyna's career was just as vital to her as Cyndi's was to herself.
Both in their early 30s, Leyna and Cyndi were just barely high school sweeties, having first met just after graduation. Their folks ended up beside each other in the audience, become acquainted and been chatting in the lobby following the ceremony. When Leyna and Cyndi emerged to meet them, caps tossed, diplomas in hands, intros were made, and it was very nearly love at first sight.
Timing was fortuitous for such a fledgling romance, with the girls out of school and in constant summer contact. They threw all their interests and passions in a pot and whipped up a delectable cornucopia: Leyna's affinity for business, numbers, money, classical music and of course the game of chess, mixed with Cyndi's partiality to building and inventing things, gadgets, tools, technology, movies, cute girls...and hot, kinky sex.
Cyndi'd accumulated a rudimentary talent for chess, but again, held no candles to Leyna's. It mattered not; it wasn't as if they had their relationship on the gameplay line. They simply cherished sharing their lives. Their union was truly remarkable in that from the first they'd met and begun dating, they never looked back. They acquiesced that they were in fact soulmates, and vowed never to doubt or question it. They decided fate had chosen to bring them together, and would that it be thus, and so they bowed to its will.
Courtship was no less exciting. Their sporadicity of dates and hours together fluctuated once their 20s were underway, lives nourished by college, extracurricular activities and the ilk. A year passed, then another, another, and another still, but they refused allowing the relationship to get stale. Holding fast by the truth that they were fatemates enabled them to uphold the fresh, evergreen zeal. Going steady was such fun, virtually the whole of their 20s blew by in a whirlwind of delight. They felt as if perpetually holding hands at arms' length and spinning one another at dizzying speed, year after euphoric year.
It was somewhere near the Christmas of their thirtieth years, when Leyna determined something of a rebirth was being signified. A new beginning. And so on New Year's morning, she took her dear girlfriend by the hand—at the crack of dawn—and led her to the Andrewsville County Park. Where the chirping birds provided the soundtrack to their peaceful outing. And where Leyna proposed to her by the glow of the rising sun.
Cyndi had a feeling something was up when Leyna dragged her out of bed on this 38° morning, made her bundle up and stumble out to the car with her, but was too groggy to discern what. She was, however, awake enough to honor Leyna's wishes.
Leyna held her hand with a worked-out speech, fished into her jacket pocket, and lowered to her knee, prompting Cyndi to cover her mouth with a hushed gasp.
"...All this being said..." Leyna shivered, trying to suppress her sniffles till she was done. "...Cynthia Laurie Bieman...will you make us the two happiest women on Earth..."
She was fighting a losing battle with these tears.
Wrap it up already!
she told herself.
"...And be my wife??" she sobbed.
Cyndi'd never been one for trite clichés. But here was a case in which she positively welcomed them. She fell on her own knees right along.
"
Oh
, Leyna!" she cried, tears flying off her face courtesy of the New Year's winds. "Of
course
I will! Yes! Yes, my sweetheart, a million billion trillion times,
yes!
"
And one and a half years of blissful wedlock later, here they were.
If Leyna's and Cyndi's marriage wasn't perfect, it was impressively stellar. And one of the reasons was that they spent a disproportionate amount of time on it. Both went into the union optimistically, managed to avoid the big mistakes, and learned from the small ones. They thought of all sorts of things that could pop up and how to handle them, and made a pact to never go to bed angry. They had the benefits of Leyna's economic genius to help them financially, and Cyndi's handy paws for housework. So they virtually never had troubles with money or need to call a professional. On the contrary; they were those called upon to help others out of their jams. And it felt great to be able to help.
On this particular day, Cyndi'd been especially busy. She arrived home roughly an hour after her wife did, tossing open the door with a gigantic relieved sigh.
"
