It has been a long time since I last posted a Chapter of My Sister Jackie, and for that I apologize to my readers. It hasn't been an easy story to tell. Here is the latest chapter for your enjoyment and I promise it won't be as long between more chapters.
I hope you enjoy.
Please feel free to leave your feedback if you enjoyed this chapter or series.
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The last time I'd actually been with Jackie was the night I'd stayed at her apartment after we'd come back from spending the day at the beach together. Even though it was very late that night and we both were tired, we did manage to make intense, and very emotional, love to each other before we eventually went to sleep in each other's arms. The next morning I awoke to find that I was alone in her apartment and that Jackie was already gone. She left me a note pinned to her pillow explaining that she had an early morning meeting and that she'd call me later in the day. I remember smiling at myself as I read the note because it was so typical of Jackie's early morning exits. I was actually getting use to them.
I hadn't heard from her for the rest of the day and, although I tried to call her twice, I just got her voice mail. When I got home there was a phone messages from her on my home phone. Her voice was soft and full of apprehension as she said that she was unsure about several things and that she just needed some time to sort things out. She also added that she was taking a temporary assignment from her company which meant that she would be in the Atlanta office for the next four to six weeks. There was a long pause on the phone and I could hear her breathing before she said asked if I would not try to contact her for a while. I immediately picked up my coat and hurried out of my apartment but before I could get to the elevators at the end of my hall, I began to have second thoughts about seeing her at that moment. As much as I wanted to be with her and help her make some positive decisions about us, I realized that it was for the best to let her have some time to sort things out for herself. The last thing I wanted to do was to push her into a difficult decision that she might later regret. With a heavy feeling of despair I walked back to my apartment and sat on the sofa in the dark, watching the rain outside as it ran down the windows.
About a month after she'd gone I received a picture postcard from her. On the front was a typical photo of downtown Atlanta and on the back she had just written the words, I'm ok -- Jackie. She was on my mind constantly and hundreds of times, every day, I wanted to call her, or see her, but I knew it was best to let her have the time she needed.
I hadn't seen or talked to Jackie in over three months when one Saturday night and I'd gone to the theater to see one of the Broadway Musicals that was in town for a few weeks. During the intermission I'd left my seat and gone to the lobby for a small glass of Champagne from the bar. At that moment it felt good to be surrounded by people and I listened with half-interest to the bits and pieces of conversations as they passed by me. After finishing my Champagne I started to go back to my seat and through the crowd, about twenty-five or thirty feet away, I caught a glimpse of Jackie standing in a group of six or eight people. She didn't see me. She was chatting with a woman that was close to her and I saw that a nice looking man stood at her side with his arm around her waist. She was wearing her short, black cocktail dress and her beautiful black hair seemed to flow softly down over her shoulders. Her hair seemed to glisten softly as she moved. As I looked at her I realized, with a deep sadness, that she was even more beautiful than I had remembered. I stopped where I was, simply looking at her as people moved around me. I wanted to call out her name and at the same time I hoped she didn't see me looking at her. I was torn. I felt the, now familiar, feeling of mild panic well-up inside me the feeling was that I may never see her again. Then it happened. The other woman must have said something amusing to her and as she brought her head back her eyes left the other woman's face and they lifted to catch mine. My heart raced as we both simply looked at each other, neither of us moved and I thought I saw a glimmer of sadness in her eyes. The crowd quickly closed between us again and I lost sight of her for what seemed to be only a few moments. When it opened, I saw her date with his hand on her arm, escorting her back inside the theater. As quickly as she came, she was gone.
The emptiness I felt weighed heavily on me and I didn't feel like returning to my seat. I simply stayed in the lobby, sitting on one of the ornate and plush sofas that lined the walls. I could hear that the second act started but I didn't care. I foolishly hoped that she would come back to speak with me. I was hoping that she was ready. Most of all, I was hoping that she wanted to come back to me. The empty lobby matched my own emptiness and I was actually glad that I was alone. As time passed it was obvious she wasn't coming back to the lobby and I left the theater and walked to my car, perhaps more aware of my emptiness and aloneness than I'd ever felt before. I couldn't get the thoughts of her, or the beautiful way she looked, out of my mind.
I drove myself home and just before I got there I decided to stop first at The Ice House, a popular bar near my apartment, to get a drink and be around people and noise. I needed something to distract me from myself, and my memories, even if it was only a short while. I thought I had a pretty good handle on our, somewhat indefinite, separation until I saw her at the theater -- then it all went to hell. The Ice House was packed and loud and I sat at the only open seat at the bar which was against the wall and ordered a scotch rocks. I ignored several obvious glances and passes from a few women in the crowd; the scotch made me feel better. I'd had a few more drinks than I should have had and it was a little after one a.m. when I left the bar. I'd had a little too much to drink so I decided to leave me car in the parking lot and walk the three blocks back to my apartment as it began to drizzle. The streets were quiet and I was glad to be alone again.
My apartment is at the end of the hallway and my front door sits back in a small vestibule so as not to be visible from the elevator lobby. As I got about halfway down the hallway I saw a pair of black, high heel shoes lying on the floor next to my door. As I got closer I saw Jackie sitting on the carpeted floor, leaning against my door -- asleep. Her hair was disheveled and her stockings had long runs in them that looked as if she had walked, without her shoes, for some distance. I bent down and touched her arm and she opened her eyes slowly as if trying to fight through her sleep. She looked up at me and said, "I've been waiting here for you," she said in a soft whisper.
