Cassidy stretched her mouth wide for a loud yawn, not bothering to cover her mouth. It was contagious—I yawned next, then Mom.
“Look at my tired girls. We should call it a night,” Dad said. “Big day tomorrow. Thankfully we can sleep on the plane, huh?”
Nervousness tightened around me like twine.
“I hope you both finished packing,” Mom said.
“Mine is pretty much done,” I told her. “I just have to bring it down.”
“Mine’s almost done,” Cass said, yawning again.
Mom shook her head and focused on me. “How are you, Robyn? Are you ready for this?”
I gave her a reassuring smile, despite the tightening sensation. “I’m fine. Ready to see what Ireland has in store for me.”
“Well, come here.” Dad stood, tall and imposing, and opened his arms. The four of us huddled together for a group hug. Mom was shorter than me now. I’d outgrown her last year, and it still felt strange to be the tallest female in the embrace.
We said our goodnights, and then shuffled upstairs. I stood in my bedroom feeling a wave of nostalgia. This room held so many memories. Would I be back again to see the rows of trophies on the shelves? Everything from t-ball to All-State Soccer and this year’s Girls’ Varsity Soccer MVP. Two large corkboards were tacked full of pictures, ticket stubs for movies, school dances, and sporting events, even a few newspaper snippets about my teams.
I went to my walk-in closet and pulled out the familiar, large plastic storage bin. I placed the bin next to my luggage at the foot of my bed, then sat down cross-legged on the carpet and opened it.
Staring up at me was ten years worth of memorabilia collected to give McKale when it was time to meet.
The mysterious McKale. My “betrothed.” A fancy word for “engaged.”
McKale was from another family of ancient magic. Mom explained that his people had only been able to produce male children for many, many years now. I was told they needed a special, magical girl to bind herself with one of their special, magical boys to ensure the continuation of their family’s bloodline. It sounded extraordinary to me as a child—like I was a princess—special, chosen.
It took a few years to realize the purpose of the union was to have babies.
My friends at school would have been appalled. They all thought I was going off to college overseas. The term “prearranged marriage” was thought of as something from the old days, or something that other societies did. I should have been terrified or indignant, but the way Mom presented my future eleven years ago made me feel important and useful. Arranged relationships were common among Dightheach. Normal.
On the night I learned about McKale, Mom told me his clan valued gifts. At six years of age, I remember thinking it was weird that his family was called a “clan,” but cool that they liked presents.
I ran my finger over a paddle and ball set I’d gotten at a birthday party when I was seven. I could never get the stupid toy to work for me, but maybe McKale could. That had been the first gift. My favorite was the soccer ball. I smiled at its shiny black and white surface, remembering when Dad landed tickets to the World Cup.
A light knock came as I wrapped tape around the lid.
“Come in,” I called. My family knew about the gift bin, but it was still embarrassing, this imaginary relationship I had with a stranger. But he wouldn’t be a stranger for much longer, would he?
I shivered with anticipation.
Cassidy walked in and made herself comfortable on my bed while I moved my travel stuff next to the bedroom door and changed into my pajamas.
“How many hours of footage do you think you have?” From her laying position Cass inclined her head toward the video camera on the nightstand that I’d used to record messages for McKale over the past four years.
“I don’t know. A lot,” I said.
“Mm.” Cassidy chewed her lip. She was unusually quiet as she lay there. I sat down and stretched my legs out beside her.
“You okay?” I asked.
“I don’t want you to go.”
The invisible band around my chest yanked tighter. “You guys are coming, too. We’ll get to spend the whole summer together before you go back home.”
“Not really. I mean, I’ll be there, but you’re going to be busy getting to know him.” Her jealous tone surprised me. She’d always taken my engagement in stride. I began braiding the silky brown hair at her temple.
“I promise to make time for you, chickadee.” I wondered if she’d ever outgrow the childhood nickname. I hoped not.
“It’s gonna be strange next year at school without you.”
“I know.”
Cassidy would be a senior. It was a huge high school and we’d both been active in sports and clubs. Cass was even junior class president this past year. But I understood. No amount of friends or activities could replace what we shared. And neither could a man.
She turned her face away and whispered low, “Please don’t forget about me.”