CrayonFolio

Chantelle watched with great envy as the last bag was lifted off of the carousel by a woman who’d nodded off in the seating area. When she and her bag had gone through to the arrival area and out of sight, she looked with forlorn hope at the little flap that covered the baggage chute for any sign of movement. She had been watching it since the first bag had emerged, so at least she knew nobody had stolen hers, or mistaken it for one of their own. She made another trip to the other side of the carousel to check for the tenth time that it hadn’t got caught on something and was stuck in place. In her heart of hearts, she knew that she would have seen it by now if it was within a hundred feet; she’d decorated it with bright pink ribbons to make it as visible as possible. The screen above the carousel no longer showed their flight information. Out of the corner of her eye, Chantelle saw her boyfriend detach himself from the information desk and make his way back over to her. His expression dashed her last hopes. “What did they say?” She asked, prepared for the worst. “They don’t know where it is,” he replied, frowning. “They got someone to double check the hold, and it’s definitely not still in there. They phoned JFK, and there’s no sign of it on that end either. Best they can figure is that a baggage handler put it on the wrong conveyor belt.” Chantelle actually stamped her foot in frustration. “For Christ’s sake!” She cried, “Is this how they treat all first class passengers?” “In fairness, I don’t think there’s a first class for bags. It probably got tossed in with everything else…” Jake stopped talking when he saw Chantelle’s expression. “Don’t worry about it, honey,” he said in a more placating tone, “I bet they’ll find it by the end of the night. I gave them your parents’ address, so with any luck, it’ll arrive tomorrow or the next day.” “You think there’ll be delivery guys on the clock on Christmas day?” He winced. “Look on the bright side, all of your valuables were in your carry-on,” he went on, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, “All you had in there was clothes. It’ll all work out.” Chantelle sighed, relenting a little bit. “Yeah, you’re right. But what am I going to wear?” “We’ll figure it out.” Said Jake, taking her hand and leading her towards the exit, “We can stop in Macy’s or something on our way down to your parents.” “No, let’s do it tomorrow,” replied Chantelle, glancing at her watch, “It’s already a quarter after seven, and I don’t want to keep them waiting forever.” In their first stroke of luck since touching down, there was a short line for the car rental place. Chantelle treated herself to a sub and an iced coffee while Jake filled out the forms, it was the holidays after all. They ended up with a white four seater, and Jake loaded his bag into the trunk. “Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that they lost the bag,” he mused, “I think I brought too many things. Will all of that fit in your old room?” “Yeah, don’t worry about it,” said Chantelle, through her last mouthful of sandwich. She opened the passenger side door and got in, and started adjusting the seat with one hand while massaging her stomach with the other, “I had a huge closet and a chest of drawers, there should be room in their on top of all my old clothes— wait that’s it!” “What’s it?” asked Jake as he got in the driver’s side. “All my old clothes are still in the house! I asked them not to touch anything or move stuff along without asking me first. I’ll just use all of that stuff while we’re here, and then we won’t have to spend any money on new clothes. Problem solved!” Chantelle was beaming, and her eyes were glowing with enthusiasm at this realization. Jake chose his next words with care, “Erm… Honey… didn’t you move out when you left for college?” “Yeah, so?” “So… won’t all of that stuff be nine or ten years old by now?” Chantelle’s tone suddenly turned icy. “What are you getting at?” Jake took his eyes off the road for a moment to look at his girlfriend. They’d met through work friends after graduating, but Jake had seen plenty of pictures from her college days. She hadn’t changed that much. She wore her glasses more than her contacts now, tended to wear her blond hair tied up rather than loose, and yes, she’d put on some weight. Chantelle was not terribly fat by any means, but she had certainly gotten a little bigger in the hips and bust over the years, and she sported a rounded belly that rarely, if ever, went hungry. One quick glance at his girlfriend’s face decided him against pointing this out, however. “I don’t know, won’t they be… dusty or something?” “I can stick a few things in the wash if they’re not clean,” said Chantelle, waving an airy hand, her mood brightened once more. “I hope they made something nice for dinner, I’m starving!” she added, idly crumpling up her sub wrapper. Jake grimaced slightly, but kept driving. The Johnsons were well-off, and this was certainly reflected by their house. The large, gravel driveway had ample room for Chantelle’s parents’ Range Rover, and two other cars that Jake presumed belonged to her sisters, one of whom he hadn’t met. As they ascended the porch steps, faint Christmas music and other merriment from inside could be heard faintly. Chantelle was clearly excited as she rang the door, which was answered by her mother. “There’s my baby girl!” She exclaimed, with her arms extended, and Chantelle eagerly rushed into her embrace. It had been at least a year since they had seen each other. “Hi Joan,” grinned Jake, leaning in for a hug. He liked Chantelle’s parents, who were slightly warmer people than his own. “Hi darling,” she answered, pecking him on the cheek. “Come in out of the cold! We have a fire, wine, and far too much chocolate!” The rest of the family were in the living room, spread out across a sofa and armchairs. Two girls immediately rushed over and collided with Chantelle, screaming with joy. While Chantelle wrestled with her nieces, her father came over and clapped Jake on the shoulder as he shook his hand. “How you doing Jake? “I’ve been worse! This must be Evelyn?” He asked of the woman who had got up to greet him that looked like a brown haired Chantelle in her mid-thirties. “Guilty!” She grinned, “And this is my husband, Michael,” she gestured a bald, bearded man wearing glasses who smiled and waved cordially, “And these two are Juliet and Michelle,” she pointed out each girl, both of them still clutching Chantelle and talking over each other in their efforts to get her attention. Jake ended up in the seat beside Andrea, who was in her second year of college. She’d crashed on his and Chantelle’s couch a couple of times, so they knew each other quite well and got on. She greeted Jake with a friendly smirk. “Such a shame about your bag, Chantelle,” said her father as he sat back down beside Michael, “I hope they gave you some money off your flight to say sorry!” “Believe me,” said Chantelle, “They are going to get the complaint of their lives tomorrow. By the time I’m finished, I expect I’ll fly free for the rest of my life.” Everyone laughed, and more drinks were poured, and boxes of chocolates and snacks passed around. Joan had delayed making dinner, so there was time for everyone to catch up and get acquainted. It turned out that he and Michael shared an interest in baseball, and Chantelle gossiped with her sisters. Just as Michael was finished telling Jake about a rare Mickie Mantle card that was the jewel of his collection, dinner was announced. “Wait til you taste this,” whispered Chantelle to Jake as they entered the dining room, “It’ll blow your mind.” Jake had to admit that she was right. The table was loaded with glazed pork belly, mouth-watering cream of mashed potatoes, and vegetables roasted in goose fat. Despite her breakfast, lunch, in-flight meal, and commiseration sub, the smell of her mom’s home cooking made Chantelle ravenous once more, and she overfilled her plate. “Couldn’t you have used a leaner meat for the first night, mom?” Complained Evelyn after her second plate, “I’m gonna have to have these pants let out.” “Aren’t there any good gyms in your area?” laughed Chantelle, who was showing no signs of slowing down after thirds. “When was the last time you went to the gym, butterball?” Andrea joked, reaching over and pinching Chantelle’s side. Chantelle laughed it off, but Jake was pretty sure she kept her stomach sucked in for the duration of the meal. He gave her hand a squeeze. “Now, now, everyone lets loose a little at Christmas. Be nice to each other, girls,” chimed in Joan. There was apple pie with ice cream for dessert, and everyone was too tired to stay sitting around the table after that. Most of them had spent the day travelling, after all. “I left towels on the bed, and there’s hot water if either of you want to shower,” said Joan as Jake and Chantelle said their goodnights and made their way upstairs. As soon as Chantelle closed the door to her room behind her, and could be sure she was out of Andrea’s sight, she finally stopped sucking it in with a huge sigh of relief. “Phew! I think Evelyn might have had a point after all!” she exclaimed. Jake laughed. He could tell she was joking, but his girlfriend’s overfed belly told another story. After she collapsed into bed and wrestled open the button of her skinny jeans, it didn’t look like she would be able to do it back up any time soon. He smiled and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “I think I’ll take that shower, actually,” he said. “Ok. I’m gonna get changed, and I might put some stuff in the wash.” It may have been his imagination, but Jake thought he heard a lot more rustling and thudding than should have been strictly necessary as he took his shower. After he had dried off and came back into the bedroom, it was all he could do not to laugh. Chantelle was standing with her back to him, admiring herself in the mirror. The blue t-shirt she had chosen from her old dresser as a pajama top was very tight, and didn’t stretch very far down her midriff. The cotton short shorts she was wearing were clearly designed for someone smaller too, and frankly didn’t leave much to the imagination, although Jake didn’t think she looked any worse for it. “What are you looking at, nosy?” Grinned Chantelle. She was watching him in the mirror. “I’m trying to figure out if that’s a t-shirt, or some new bra design.” “Haw, haw.” She turned around and came over to him, standing on her toes so she could wrap her arms around his neck. “In my defense, I think these are from when I was about fourteen.” “I never said they didn’t look good on you.” He ran his hands up and down Chantelle’s body, settling on her ass. She grinned. “You’re really gonna have me take all these off when I just got them on?” “Only if that’s what you want,” he murmured, kissing her neck. It was.

Hi folks, I posted a story on deviantart a while back and thought I'd throw it up here too. If anyone gets around to reading it, let me know what you think, I'd love to hear comments Original: https://www.deviantart.com/crayonfolio/art/Chantelle-s-Old-Clothes-Part-1-891618947