The Family Man

Chapter 24

Jackie canceled on Jack twice.

She also screened about nine of his finest phone calls. Truth be told, being a Bouvier child had equipped Jackie with the most efficient of survival skills—namely, the ability to grind out excuses and sell them. And for three whole days, Jack had ceased to bug her.

But he had learned, quickly and efficiently, to work through the family. One too many coffee convos with Lee and her father had since passed, chock full of Oh, Jackie, humor him and hear Jack Kennedy out and The man's been smacked in the face with a cold hard epiphany and For closure's sake, honey, the air deserves to be cleared and I always liked Jack, he smells nice. There was only so much a girl could take.

"But what if every pent up emotion I've spent ten years carefully smothering comes rushing back in the middle of our entrées?"

Lee paused thoughtfully. "Then he prays to God you don't pour hot soup in his lap."

"Fair enough," Jackie shrugged.

It was a humid Friday night when Jack met Jackie outside of her apartment. Butterflies had been rocketing inside of his stomach. No, not butterflies. Pinballs. He winced and handed her a bouquet of daisies with the arm that wasn't broken, and Jackie accepted them graciously. Then she stood there.

Maybe I should go put these in a vase..." she suggested.

"Yeah, I guess it would be inconvenient to carry it around all evening," Jack muttered, hunching his shoulders. "Didn't really think that one through."

"No, but it's a nice gesture," Jackie said quickly. "I'll, uh...be right back."

"Okay."

Three minutes of pacing and then Jackie reappeared on the stoop. She threw her keys inside of her purse and drew her cardigan tightly over her body, descending two steps at a time. Jack noticed that she had taken the clip out of her hair, and he was suddenly hit with the memory of some lazy Sunday morning that had never happened where Jackie had been reading the paper in bed, head cradled in his lap. Jack would unsuccessfully braid strands of her hair and she would slap his hands away, laughing. A cup of cold coffee had been on the nightstand. She would be humming along to Adele on the clock radio.

Jack shook his head.

"You all right?" asked Jackie.

"Yup. Perfect."