The Family Man

Chapter 9

Jackie wasn't home when he drove back to the suburbs. She had left the kids with a sitter and another Post-It lovingly slapped onto the refrigerator. He had finally learned that she worked as a librarian  at one of the elementary schools in Caroline's district; she was a judge for the annual Art Show, as it seemed. The house was empty without her presence and the children sleeping upstairs.

Jack wandered his house barefoot. He traced every wall with his hands and inspected each photograph and canvas. He saw traces of Jackie in nearly every piece of furniture. She always had eccentric tastes. But he saw inclinations of his own in the traditional wallpaper and dark, masculine armchairs. Compromises in Ikea, of course. He saw no other explanation for it in a house that was rioted with color.

He had half a mind to peruse the videotapes he had discovered the day before, but decided to settle down with dinner instead. He found leftover lasagna and edamame in the fridge and perched himself at the island with a glass of wine. Jack ate in absolute silence until he heard the lock turning in the front door. Peering past the corridor and into the foyer, he watched Jackie heave four canvases and three small bags inside.

"Kids asleep?" she whispered.

"Sitter tucked them in."

"I love Alice," Jackie threw her head back and giggled. "She's my gift from God. At $10 an hour, but we can't be too picky, can we?"

Jack half smiled and leaned against the railing as she perched the canvases along the wall. Every trace of cold reserve or hurt from the last couple of days seemed washed clean. She seemed transformed from her students, and rattled off about the exhibits: "Of course, every year is better and better. I'm so proud of them opening up, you have no idea. Some of those brats can be emotionally constipated, and you don't realize it until you get their hands on clay or acrylic."

"That's—"

"Oh! Hold that thought." Jackie's eyes shone mischievously as she dug out a package from a little brown bag. She thrust it in his face like some sort of sacrificial offering. "Mary Meyer got me cheesecake at Coldstones tonight. I think I'm only showing it for you to lust after though; it's pretty doubtful that you're getting any of this. I'd just accept it now before the tears begin."

At that, she swiveled on her heel and marched towards the kitchen in search of a spoon.

Jack caught up with her and stared as she rifled through the cabinets.

"Let me get this straight: your entire happiness extends from a slice of cheesecake."

"It's Coldstones, Bunny," muttered his wife. "Don't objectify it as only cheesecake. You'll hurt its feelings."

"I'm sorry. I'll take the food's feelings into consideration next time."

"I know you will."

Just then, he felt something warm brush across his ankle. He yelped as a tawny, amber cat purred and darted under the kitchen table. "Jesus," Jack raked a hand through his hair, "and there's the goddamn cat. I knew it would just pop out of nowhere. And there it is!"

Jackie stared at him sympathetically and divvied a slice onto a seperate plate. Then she handed it over: "Here. You need this. You're weirding me out. And I'm around weird people all fucking day. But you take the cake." Her nose suddenly wrinkled and she burst into hysterical giggles: "Take the cake! Oh my God! It's literal!"

Jack smirked. "Did you have anything else at Coldstones?"

"Not at Coldstones, no. The bar across the street, on the other hand..." She tossed her head back and laughed: "Ahaha. Cake!" Jackie stared at the island where his deserted dinner was and cocked her head. "Hey, we still have wine? I've stopped shopping at Wine & Spirits ever since Bobby drank all my Bailey's Irish Cream."

"Nope, we're all out. Finished."

"You're a liar," accused Jackie. She poked her finger at his chest.

He laughed: "You're tipsy."

"You're cute."

Jackie wrapped her arms around his neck. Her face was tilted up to his, her eyes as magnetic as ever. He cupped her cheek with his hand and tucked a curl of hers back behind her ear. Her hair had nearly fallen out of its clip, but she didn't seem to mind this so much. And as she smiled at him he realized, Of course he still cared for her. The years hadn't simply up and disappeared, after all.

"I forgot what this was like," Jack murmured. "I mean, there were others, obviously. But it was always so different with you. I just keep running away from it."

"You've gotten this really strange habit of babbling lately so I've started tuning it out. And I would tell you to shut the hell up because you're killing my mostly imaginative buzz, but you're just too damned cute when you ramble and you don't notice that I play with your hair even though I do," Jackie explained as she ran her fingers through the ends of his hair. "See what I mean? Took you forever to catch on."

Jack laughed quietly.

"Hey, how was work?"

"What? Oh. Mrs. Lincoln sends her love."

"She's like Doris Roberts meets Betty White."

"She smells like mothballs."

"That's the elderly," Jackie clicked her tongue. "My grandfather smelled like dominoes and shoe polish. But you love them anyway. They fill your sentimental childish heart with warm memories before your mother pisses on your dreams and disapproves of your future and mothering methods. Not that I'm speaking of my own life, of course."

"Of course not."

"At least Mama's always approved of you though," sighed Jackie, tracing shapes on his shirt. "Even after you left me. I was heartbroken and it seemed like my entire family was heartbroken. You said it would be a year. But come on, every girl really knows what a year is. When you came back two days later, I thought I would never recover from happiness. It was that important to me."

"I came back?" Jack echoed.

"Yeah, I still don't know what possessed you to come back to me, but thank God you did. I'd like to think it was some intuitive power, but I don't really believe in that shit. But still, I hadn't told you I was pregnant before and it was almost as if you knew. I guess it was just meant to be."

Jack's stomach gave a small flip. He pulled back in an instant. "Oh my God."