Last Olive Bistro ✓

Chapter 35: Moving Out

I didn't have to fumble with my keys after Jacob dropped me off at my apartment the next morning. The Soviet security door was propped open, and up the stairs I immediately found out our door was ajar as well.

I turned into our apartment to find an older woman packing clothes in a cardboard box while a man, about her age, deconstructed a side table.

"Hello?" I made myself known without startling them. They both looked up.

"Good morning, Chloe, I presume?" the woman asked.

"Yes," I answered.

Morgan emerged from the bedroom, her hair tied up in a messy topknot and she wore baggy coral sweatpants and an oversized gray hoodie. The weather that day was slightly cooler than average, but still above sixty-five degrees.

"I'm Barbara, and this is my husband Richard; we're Morgan's parents," she said and stuck out her hand to shake. I accepted.

"Morgan, is everything okay?" I asked. She either ignored me or didn't hear me as she pivoted on her heels back to the bedroom, like a lightbulb went off in her head that reminded her of something.

Richard folded up the thin, chrome side table and tucked it under his arm. "Morgan's coming home." He wasn't as warm-welcoming as his wife. However, I was trying to wrap my head around how serious the situation was for both Morgan and those of us left behind.

"Can I help?" I asked, moving towards a pile of clothes on the living room floor that Barbara was working with.

"Thank you, dear."

We folded and packed in an awkward silence until the box was full, then I went to find another one. I noticed Morgan partially through the bedroom door and she was just standing there, staring out the window. She barely moved, as though she was in a trance.

"Hey," I greeted in a soft tone. She turned her head ever so slightly to acknowledge me.

"Hi."

I leaned against the wall next to her. She had dark circles under her bloodshot eyes and there were lines wrinkled along her forehead which shouldn't have been there for a woman so young. She looked like she was mugged in an alley, but that wasn't the case; Morgan was completely burned out.

"You're going to be okay now," I said.

She let out a heavy sigh and returned her attention to the skyscraper scenery. "There's nothing back in Duluth. It's all failure and snow."

I twisted my lips in thought. "It's not failure; think of it as a clean slate. You need to get away from all this city chaos. It's okay to admit it's overwhelming."

Morgan nodded once, considering my point of view. "I guess the fresh air will be nice. I always loved the scenery up there; I miss it. All this gray concrete makes me sick."

That was something I could not have understood before going to Connecticut with Jacob, when all my life had been spent in the city. The greenery of the trees and rainbow of wildflowers was something I only saw in pictures, and it wasn't until I returned to the city that I felt my tension spike. The freshness of nature was bogged down underneath a polluted cloud of taxi exhaust and cigarette smoke. Each day, the organic beauty of Connecticut crossed my mind and sometimes I escaped to that realm of calm when the bustling disarray city life became too much.

"Come on, let's help your parents pack," I said. Morgan agreed and I guided her into the living room where her mother was pleased to see her make a step towards progress. She ushered her over to the couch and we all folded her clothes together. A few piles were separated to donate.