The Vacation Suitcase

Julie had presented the suitcase like a gift, and for a moment, Marnie had allowed herself to be excited. The sturdy canvas shell was a deep, regal blue, its corners reinforced with supple leather. A dainty lilac scarf, the kind Marnie imagined adorned the slender necks of flight attendants, was tied to the handle like a bow. It was more beautiful than anything Marnie had ever owned, a thing of extravagance. It was a vacation suitcase, the kind Julie and Mark would have packed for their trips to Europe and Asia, places rendered nearly mythical in Marnie’s provincial world. She traced her finger along the interlocking teeth of the bag’s zipper, marveling at the craftsmanship.

In this moment of hazy wonderment, Marnie imagined the places she might go. She thought of the grand adventures Mark and Julie had described, the framed photographs of white sandy beaches and lush green rainforests that lined the hallways of their home. Last year, a girl in her class had gone to Disneyworld with her family, returning suntanned and radiant, proudly showing off a glossy journal with page after page of princess signatures. Marnie imagined herself amongst all that magic, her right hand encased by Julie’s, her left hand trailing the beautiful bag that declared her belonging. She imagined her cheeks squished between Julie and Mark’s, just another of the countless happy families smiling for a photo in matching mouse ears.

In truth, Marnie would be just as elated to load her new suitcase in the trunk and drive to the grocery store and back. The destination was secondary, inconsequential next to the immensity of going somewhere with the intention of returning home. Because that was the magic of a vacation - it necessitated a home, some permanent place you were coming back to. Marnie knew the bag was Julie’s way of showing her what she had been saying since Marnie arrived: you are home now. We can leave, together, and you will still come back here.

Marnie knew she had been difficult when she first arrived, sullen and withdrawn, but Mark and Julie had been persistent in their warmth. Month after month they allowed her to stay, and eventually she started to feel comfortable, to drop some of her walls. Then slowly, almost against her will, she started to think of this place as her home. Though she never would have admitted it aloud, she had begun to hope that they might ask her to stay. She couldn’t think of a more perfect way for Julie to broach the subject, a more perfect symbol of her permanence there.

Marnie pulled her eyes away from the bag to thank Julie, but the words caught in her throat when she saw the pitying look on Julie’s face. She watched Julie’s hand move tentatively to her belly, resting there almost apologetically. The realization struck her so forcefully, Marnie would not have noticed a difference had Julie’s hand slapped her across the face. This was not a vacation bag.

Marnie was dimly aware that Julie was talking, explaining that she and Mark had tried for so long, they hadn’t realized it was even possible. They’d been to every doctor, tried every medication. It was a miracle, really. Of course they still loved Marnie, but things would be so different now, there just wouldn’t be room for everyone, surely she understood. She was speaking slowly, gently, bobbing her head as she tried to catch Marnie’s eye.

It was only when the silence stretched too long that Marnie realized Julie had asked her a question. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears not to fall, and turned to face the woman who did not want her anymore. “What did you say?”

Julie’s face was pained as she repeated her question, “Do you need any help?”

Help? For a moment, Marnie didn’t understand the question. At her blank expression, Julie gestured lamely toward the suitcase. She spoke so softly it was almost a whisper, “Your social worker will be here soon.”

Marnie’s eyes widened in shock, a spiteful laugh raking through her chest. She looked pointedly at Julie’s flat stomach. Not even showing and she wanted Marnie out of the house. Of course, she and Mark needed to nest, and having their newly unnecessary consolation prize moping around would ruin all the fun.

Marnie shook her head and grabbed the suitcase, ducking to avoid Julie’s outstretched hand as she ran towards her room. Not her room. The guest room.

Probably the nursery, now.

As she closed the door to the room that was not hers, Marnie’s heartbreak was already transforming to rage. How could she be so stupid? Disneyworld? What was she thinking?

Of course Julie wasn’t asking her to stay with them! How many times had she changed foster homes? She was almost twelve years old and had lived in more than a dozen homes. She knew the drill by now. She’d let herself hope that Mark and Julie were different, and now she’d made a fool of herself. Idiot!

She swiped angrily at her cheeks, her breath coming fast and shallow in her chest. The suitcase lay half-open next to the bed. She knelt down to unzip the blue canvas cover and stared at its shiny black interior. The inside was lined with a thin material that swished when she ran her hand over it. It almost looked like the black trash bag Marnie had arrived with, the black trash bag Julie had been so appalled to see her carrying.

At least the suitcase would make the next moves easier.

She sighed, rocked back on her heels, and looked around the room she had slept in for the past six months. Julie had folded her laundry that morning, and two neat stacks of clothes sat side by side on her pretty duvet. Marnie placed the stacks in her suitcase. It wasn’t a third of the way full. What else could she pack? The books on her nightstand were Julie’s, borrowed from the school where she works. The art on the walls, the pink pillowcases, the board games, all of it was Julie’s. Marnie’s every possession couldn’t fill a single suitcase.

Slowly, one at a time, she pulled each item of clothing back out of the suitcase and placed them in a pile on the floor. She stood and walked to the closet, reached her hand behind the winter coats on their hangers, feeling for the crumpled plastic bag she had stored there. She scooped her clothes into the bag and tied the red strings closed.

When she opened the door again, Julie was standing there, her hand poised as if to knock. The two stared at each other for a moment. Julie’s mouth opened like she might say something more, but she closed it again when she saw the trash bag clenched in Marnie’s fist. Her face fell and her hands reached out and for a terrible moment, Marnie thought Julie might cry. Instead, she dropped her arms back to her sides. Sniffed a few times, blinked, and moved out of Marnie’s way.

Marnie hesitated only a few heartbeats. She walked down the hall and out the front door, dropped the trash bag on the front steps and waited for her social worker’s silver sedan to pull into the driveway. The beautiful blue suitcase lay open and empty on the floor in the room that was not hers. Maybe Julie would use it. Maybe it would still be a vacation suitcase one day.