The Family Man

Chapter 29

With Eunice's expertly tailored advice in hand, Jack had strategically arrived at the engagement party after the awkward dinner and clinking of glasses and raising of clichéd toasts. Which had kind of worked out perfectly, because Lem had called two hours earlier to let him know they didn't need any extra help due to the "All hands on deck" mentality the Bouviers seemed to employ. They were a little like elves that way, only a slightly more violent and prone to alcohol abuse.

Mingling, on the other hand, Jack Kennedy could successfully avoid. After all, he had practically turned creeping into an art form. So Jack gave the newly engaged his best wishes, took a rain check for a game of pool, snatched a beer and roamed the property, being careful to duck at every sighting of snarling Marilyn Monroe.

Hydrangea bushes were handy like that.

Jack was on his way inside the Bouvier house when he ran into John. He stopped dead in his tracks with a whimsical look on his face.

"Jack Kennedy. Boy, don't tell me. You're gonna be the best man."

"I should be so lucky," Jack smiled. "How have you been, John?"

"I'm liking these coincidences, that's for sure," the elder bouvier smiled wryly. "The house look any different?"

"I'll let you know."

"Let me know if you find Jackie too."

Jack looked up, surprised. "Lee told me she wouldn't be here."

"The nice ones are all liars," John clapped him on the shoulder. "See ya."

Jack scratched his head and entered the house through a side door that led to the basement. He wiped his shoes on the mat and flicked on the light. Cedar closets. Jackie's mother was paranoid about moths eating her expensive winter coats. Jack grinned.

The basement led upstairs to the kitchen, which led to the dining room with the same semi-bent chandelier Jackie had ruined with a tennis ball the same summer he met the sisters. Then around the corner to the corridor, down to John's den still completely cramped with books. As if his store couldn't contain them all.

Family portraits hung all along the wall next to the staircase, and Jack lingered on his way upstairs. He smiled at a picture of Lee and Jackie as little kids. It was on a camping trip. Jackie was doubled over in giggles, hair splayed out across her sleeping bag like a fan. Lee stood over her with her scrawny little arms flexed, grinning. She had paint smudged all over her tan face. Jack laughed under his breath.

And then Jack was standing in the hallway. Suddenly, he didn't want to open any doors. He looked down with a knot in his throat and turned around.

William Holden stood on the top step, peering up at him skeptically. His hand was still on the railing. "Hey. You're..."

"Yeah," Jack cleared his throat. "We've met."

"...the friend from college."

"Thanks," Jack laughed.

Will smiled, "Sorry. I'm not so good with names. Bill?"

"Close enough. Lost your girlfriend?"

"Something like that," snorted Will. He scratched his head, looking around. "Have you seen Jackie?"

"Not up here, no," Jack clicked his tongue apologetically. "But hey, she might be in the basement. She always liked looking at old family photo albums down there. That room's like a time capsule."

Will smiled. "I'll go check. Thanks, man."

"Anytime."

He disappeared; footsteps were heard descending the steps, probably two at a time. Jack exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose.