46. Morgan
Chapter 46
Morgan
I grunted as I lifted my bag from the carousel at Charlotte Douglas International Airport a few days later; I was surprised it hadn’t been overweight when they weighed it at Heathrow with my chain mail knocking around inside. We’d all talked a big game about packing carry-on only, but it turned out two costumes each meant a checked bag each, too. And an extra one for Phil, who had constructed a lute out of cardboard and had to carry it on as his personal item so it wouldn’t get crushed in his bag.
Given that it had been my first ever flight, I’d felt significantly less anxious than I’d expected to. I was nervous about seeing Jack; we were three weeks post-breakup and had yet to actually speak out of character. There was also a bit of bumpy air over Nova Scotia that had me gripping the armrest. But despite those hiccups, the frenzy of the past week won out, and I’d actually spent most of the flight conked out next to Grey, who read the book I’d brought for myself.
“Our car pickup was supposed to be an hour ago,” Grey whined, tugging at the short strands of their green buzz cut. Fatima shushed them for the tenth time since we’d got off the plane and knocked their hand away.
“I told you,” she said, “they have our flight info. They know the flight was late. It’ll be fine.”
But despite her reassurances, the moment we all had our bags, Grey started speed walking towards customs. They shouldered past an old couple clearly on holiday and practically stepped over a toddler who wandered out in front of them, on a mission to make sure our “large SUV” wasn’t given away to someone else.
As we walked, I gravitated towards Chloe whenever I could, avoiding falling into step with Jack. Not that I didn’t want to know how he was, or tell him how I was. With everything that had been going on, everything I’d decided, all I wanted was to tell him. I wanted him to be proud of the fact that I’d managed that hike all on my own. I wanted to tell him all about my plans for the move, and to have him help me pick out furniture. I wanted to tell him that his opinions mattered to me, and they weren’t an imposition.
But I hadn’t had the chance. And if I knew what was good for me, I wouldn’t manufacture one.
“I’m so tired,” Chloe said with a yawn. “It’s like ten at night back home.”
“Says the girl who plays video games until two am every night?”
“Fair point.”
The large SUV had not, in fact, been saved for us, so we were given what was apparently the next best thing: a minivan. At least it fit all of us, though with the level of chatter going on in the back seats, it did feel like a car full of kids. And with Jack and me at the front – I’d tried to avoid sitting next to him, but the other seats had been occupied by the time I’d loaded my bags into the boot – it felt like a mum and dad on the school run. I tried to focus on the autumn foliage instead of my ex-boyfriend, but I couldn’t help but look over at him every now and then, taking advantage of the fact that he was concentrating too hard on driving on the right-hand side of the road to notice me staring.
* * *
The house we’d hired was next-level. We’d opted for what we considered the ultimate American experience: a McMansion. Huge features, way out of proportion to the size of the garden, and way too close to the houses around it. The neighbourhood we drove into must have had hundreds of homes, all from the same four or five plans from the look of it, just the colours and materials on the outside differentiating them from one another.
As we pulled into a circular driveway and climbed out of the car, we all looked up at the hulking “Classic American Family Home”, as the listing had claimed. Inside was just as gargantuan; everything was massive and so spaced out that we could have parked a car in the centre of every room. We all had our own bedrooms – thankfully we’d booked long before Jack and I had got together – and it was a challenge just finding all of them. Some were on the ground floor, including the giant primary suite Chloe had claimed for the trouble of managing the booking, and Jack’s was even in the basement.
My room was upstairs, with a big window overlooking the driveway, and a shared bathroom with Phil. I laid out my chain mail and bright pink tunic on the chair by the window and hung my dress on the curtain rod; the rail in the closet was too low, causing the dress to pool on the ground, and though I knew it would get filthy when I wore it to the Ren Faire in a couple of days, I couldn’t stand the thought of just letting it get wrinkled.
Once I’d freshened up, I wandered out to the back deck with the others. It was much warmer here in North Carolina than back home, even in October, and even though the sun was setting, the humidity was still palpable in the air, making the hot tub in the corner of the deck look a lot more appealing. There was a massive barbecue on the raised deck as well. Beyond that there was a rolling pitch of grass, bordered by a laughably small privacy fence; laughable because of how close the neighbouring houses were. But the back of the property bordered the edge of the neighbourhood where, beyond a wide strip of grass and then a cluster of trees, we could see the colourful signs and bunting of the Ren Faire.
“Wow,” I said, my voice breathy, “we’re really here, aren’t we?”
We all lined up against the railing, looking out over the manicured lawn and the festival grounds beyond. Jack was at the opposite end of the group, and I took advantage of the distance to watch him without getting caught.
There was something different about him, I could tell. He’d always done a brilliant job of blending into the group, but he seemed even more at ease than usual. Like that ease was less put on. And try as I might, I couldn’t help but feel hurt. Was he that much happier now that we weren’t together anymore? Had he been right all along, and he was actually happier and better off without a relationship?
A cool breeze blew across the back of the house, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I was determined to have a nice, drama-free time at the Ren Faire. I’d been looking forward to it for so long, and I didn’t want what had happened between Jack and me to ruin it. Not for me, not for anyone. But based on the knot that formed in my stomach as I watched him joke with Chloe about something that I couldn’t hear, I knew that was going to be easier said than done.