Something Old, Something New

Chapter three: Jan and Jackie are picked up at the airport by Jan’s family, and Jan’s niece immediately finds herself very attached to Jackie. Obviously, this makes Jan kinda sad because she thinks of all that they could have been. They all go to a restaurant where the two spend a dinner filled with romantic tension and bombarded by questions from Jan’s slightly homophobic sister in law. Jackie looks at Jan as if to say, “Is she for real” and Jan responds by saying that her sister in law is one of the good ones. For a second the two slip and forget that their broken up but are reminded by it when Jackie gets a call from her brother, and She excuses herself, and Jan excuses herself to the bathroom. 

Jan’s POV

Jan opens her eyes and checks her watch; it’s 6:45. They’ve landed in Hawaii. She tries to shift her weight onto her right side, but a weight on her left side stops her. Jackie’s there, leaning on her shoulder, and snoring gently. Jan smiles despite herself. Jackie has always looked the most beautiful when she’s sleeping. Not that she isn’t beautiful normally, but when she’s sleeping, her guard is let down. She doesn’t hold up any walls or defenses, none of that usually bullshit that clouds her normal judgment. She’s just Jackie. Jackie without the frown lines, without the nervous looks, without the furrowed brows. Just Jackie. 

She also looks younger, kind of childlike. Subconsciously, Jan wonders if all the worrying and the anxiety has aged her. If it has, Jackie has most definitely aged with grace. But when she’s sleeping, she looks like children when they sleep. Completely devoid of problems and filled with nothing but peace and contentment. Jackie has always been an adult, responsible, and cautious. Maybe that’s why she can only seem to be a child when she sleeps—either way. Jan needs to wake her up. 

“Jackie?” Jan says gently to no avail. She gently lifts Jackie’s head off her shoulders, and this seems to awaken the sleeping Persian. 

“Jan?” Jackie’s face turns tomato red when she realizes what happened. “I fell asleep on you, didn’t I.”

“Yes, you did,” Jan tries to hide her smile because Jackie looks adorable when she’s flustered. 

“I-um. Yeah, I did that.”

“Relax, Jackie. Remember, it’s like you said. Just pretend we never broke up.” Jan knows it’s a low blow, but she goes for it anyway. But she doesn’t feel the satisfaction she expects to feel when Jackie purses her lips and hurt flashes through her eyes. 

“Yeah, I guess you have a point.” Resignment colors Jackie’s tone, and Jan doesn’t know whether or not she should take back what she said or kiss her until the world ends. But then, Jackie smirks, letting Jan know she’ll alright, and Jan suddenly remembers why she fell so madly in love with this woman. 

“We gotta pretend to be in love, might as well get used to it,” Jackie says with a laugh, and Jan smiles. 

They spend the next two hours standing in excruciatingly slow lines to have their passports stamped by excruciatingly slow immigration officers and pick up their luggage from at excruciatingly slow baggage claim service. When they finally make it out of customs, they settle in a small cafe because Jan needs coffee. But she also needs to reminisce. 

Every time she comes back to Hawaii, Jan never fails to notice different, she used to be from when she lived there. Back in the days of her youth, the slow, unbothered pace that Hawaiians lived back soothed and calmed her. Now, all it did was agitate her because when something is slow in New York, that means something is wrong. 

Hawaii just isn’t home anymore. Home is the smell of urine penetrating the air. Home is the kind, old man selling warm hot dogs and pretzels from the street. Home is her tiny cramped apartment that feels both too big and too small at the same time. Home is New York. She’s not a Hawaiian anymore. She’s a New Yorker. She knows that it’s natural to move on from home and to create a new one for herself, but despite herself, she feels guilt. As if somehow by finding happiness in the rugged nature that New York City provides, she has betrayed her Honalulu roots.

“Hey.” Jackie’s voice, lovingly laced with concern, “You’re overthinking so loudly, I can hear you over the crying babies.”

“Sorry, just haven’t been home in a while.” Jan smiles apologetically. “I feel like such a traitor because I miss the smell of piss in the air instead of the sea breeze that isn’t disintegrating my lungs. 

“It’s okay. I feel the same thing when I visit my family up in Canada. Where is all the bird shit? Why is all the housing affordably priced? Why is everyone polite?” Jan laughs because no matter what, Jackie can somehow piece together the right words to make her feel better. 

“Yeah, pizza is officially ruined for me.”

“You and me both, sweetheart.” Jan tries her best to pretend that she doesn’t feel anything when Jackie calls her nicknames, but it’s failing quite miserably. So Jan decides to distract herself by plotting against her parents. 

“So, let’s talk game plan. We need to walk in holding hands or with you’re hand on my waist, whichever makes you more comfortable.”

“Hand on waist.”

“I need to kiss you on the cheek, A LOT, so don’t get freaked out by that.”

“You used to do it a lot, and I thought it was really cute.” Jan tries to ignore the pangs in her chest.  

“And there are a couple of things you need to know about my family. My niece is four, and because I told my family that you work in skincare, she thinks that you’re a scientist.”

“Aw, that’s adorable. She’s not a scientific prodigy, is she?” 

“No, but she will definitely ask you some very very personal questions.”

“Cool.”

“You absolutely cannot talk politics with my sister in law unless you want to completely lose faith in humanity.”

“Aren’t Hawaiians, I dunno, not bigoted?”

“Oh, they are, but she’s not a Hawaiian. She’s from Florida.” Jackie tilts her head back and winces audibly.  

“I went to Florida once.”

“And?”

“I tried to give myself brain damage in order to forget.”

“Katherine is like, the epitome of conservative. She probably thinks you’re a guy.”

“Oh, this is going to be fun.”

“Imma show you a photo of them, okay?”

Jackie’s POV

When Jackie imagined Jan’s family, she had imagined a frumpy middle-aged couple with salt and pepper hair with a reasonable amount of fat on their body. She had imagined Jan’s siblings, Emily and Daniel, to look somewhat like Jan but not too much like her. She had imagined Jan’s niece to undeniably look adorable but not too far from standard baby adorable. 

What she had not imagined was a family of fucking supermodels. 

Jan’s father has a somehow toned without being ripped vibe to his body and wrinkles that suit his pronounced cheekbones and icy blue eyes. Yet despite everything about his features screaming seriousness, there is a playfulness that radiates from him. Jan has very clearly inherited his personality, but aside from the blonde, they don’t look alike. Jan’s mother, on the other hand, is what Jackie imagines what Jan will look like in thirty years. Both women are breathtakingly beautiful in the same effortless manner; the only thing that differentiates them is the fact that Jan’s mother has a deep, dark ebony hair color streaked with white. 

Jan’s siblings are also carbon copies of their parents. Emily looks exactly like her father but with rosier coloring and infinitely long ginger hair. The kind of hair that they advertise on dye boxes, the kind of hair that looks like it’s floating underwater, the kind of hair that you could take a nap in. She looks absolutely nothing like Jan. However, in spirit, you can tell the two are cut from the same cloth. There is a sense of mischief passed down from their father, and an almost ethereal beauty passed down from their mother. 

Jan’s brother is the exact opposite of Jan had imagined. Daniel, who was born an albino, is vampirically pale, his curly locks almost completely white. He looks like he was born in another realm and sent to earth by accident. But that is not the most shocking thing about him; Daniel is incredibly muscular. He looks like the kind of guy that can smash Jackie into tiny pieces if he wanted to because instead of muscles, the guy looked like he sewed an apple into his biceps. In addition to following the Sport family trend of being unrealistically gorgeous, he also looks like a clone of his mother. 

But Jan’s niece is the biggest shocker of them all. She looks so much like Jan that for a second, Jackie almost considers incestual activity. But her worries are immediately absolved by her remembrance that Jan is a stark-raving lesbian in addition to the fact that she was the one who filmed her sister in law’s birthing video. However, aside from that, the girl that stands in front of her looks almost identical to Jan’s baby photos. 

And then there was Jan, the remarkable woman standing next to her. Possibly the most beautiful out of them all. Jan has a small smile on her face, the way people smile when they see puppies shit on carpets. Even with her messy bun from hell and her tired, slightly sleepy features, Jan is perfect. Everyone has a personal definition of beauty that is everchanging but Jackie’s has stayed the same since she met Jan. But with her hair the color of honeycomb with the texture of silk and lips so plump and kissable that it is taking every ounce of her self control not to kiss them-

Jackie’s been staring, hasn’t she? 

Jan’s POV

Jackie has been staring for far too long. For far, far too long. But Jan can’t bring herself to stop her because Jackie looks cute when she’s staring. Her eyes do that thing where they seem to become infinitely big with wonder, and her lips part gently. She forgets above all the external factors of the universe and instead focusing on a singular item. It’s the most fascinating thing about Jackie. Her ability to drop everything going on in the world and focus intensely on one singular thing in space or time. So Jan savors this image of Jackie, eyes widening with shock and mouth slightly agape. 

Sometimes, back when they were still together, Jan used to stare at Jackie and wonder how on earth someone like Jackie could exist. Someone that encapsulated “love” in every sense of the word. Jackie was not a fighter; she's was a lover. She looked at everything with an undying astonishment at truly. Even the most homely and mundane things were treasured by Jackie, studied and cherished with a sensation that can be described as love. Jackie was a person who you just wanted to love because of how much they loved everything around them. Especially when they are staring at a photo of you, and your family at a barbeque from last summer. 

“I’ve been staring, haven’t I.” Jackie smacks her head as Jan’s laughter echoes through the cafe and receives confused looks from fellow customers. 

“Possibly,” Jackie blushes the color of crimson. “Was it Daniel? People stare at him a lot.”

“What?”  A look of horror washes over Jackie’s face. “Oh my god, no! Absolutely not!”

“Then why were you silent for a good two minutes?” Jan chuckles. 

“Cos you come from a family of fucking supermodels!” Jackie bursts out, and Jan can’t help herself but laugh. 

“I mean, my family is relatively attractive but-” Jan is cut off by Jackie, who has grabbed her by the shoulders and looking at her with panic-filled eyes. 

“Relatively attractive? Your sister looks like fucking Madeline Petsch. And you’re brother looks like he needs to be in Game of Thrones or some shit because he is majestic as fuck. And you failed to mention the fact that your dad looks like a blonde aged up Matt Bomer and you, your mom and your niece look like the same person but at different ages!” Jackie finishes her outburst and becomes very self-conscious. 

“And?”

“And I’m me. I’m not some 80’s supermodel. I don’t have a face chiseled by the gods, and I don’t have really obvious muscles or hair that people use in conditioner commercial. I’m just me.” Jackie looks down on the floor, refusing to meet Jan’s eyes. “I’m not...pretty.”

Not pretty. 

Jackie used to call herself that a lot of the times. Ugly. Plain. Normal. Average. Unattractive. And whenever she does it, Jan wonders if the girl in front of her has ever owned a mirror. Jackie is so beautiful that everything around her dulls in comparison. Everything around her seems dimmer or duller, and ultimately less beautiful. Everything about Jackie exudes beauty. The stray hairs that fall in front of her face. The rosy, luscious lips that pout every time Jan tells her off. The white hairs that show up on her head despite her age, reminding Jan that Jackie hasn’t ever had it easy. The delicious sounds that Jan can draw out from her mouth in the throes of passion. Everything about Jackie is and always will be beautiful. 

Jan takes Jackie’s hands in her own and strokes them gently, wondering why the callouses exist. Callouses shouldn’t exist on people like Jackie. The universe should treat them with care, put a celestial bubble wrap around them, so they don’t scratch. 

“You’re right. You’re not pretty.”

“Wow, way to make me feel better,” Jackie says bitterly. 

“You’re not pretty because pretty isn’t good enough to describe how beautiful you are. You are so much more than pretty. Women would kill to have a face like yours.”

“Jan, you don’t have to do this.”

“I know I don’t. But at the same time, I have to. Because you’re not pretty, you’re perfect. Now let’s go grab a cab so that we can meet my family at the restaurant and I can show you off to them.” 

Jackie’s POV

The restaurant turns out to be Red Lobster. Jackie didn’t know they had red lobsters in Hawaii. Well, know she does. And sitting at a table is Jan’s entire family. But before she can process anything, a tiny bundle of blonde hair leaps into Jan’s arms, knocking over a tray of cheddar bay biscuits. 

“Auntie Jan! Auntie Jan!” The tiny bundle shrieks as a very clearly sleep-deprived waiter clear up the mess. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too, buttercup. How’s your daddy?” 

“Daddy was loud noises last night, mommy, too.” Jackie nearly chokes on her spit.

“Your daddy and mommy must have had a lot of fun playing video games last night.”

The little girl runs off back to the table where a group of intimidatingly beautiful adults sits. So instead, she directs her attention to Jan.

“Is your niece really called buttercup?” Jan laughs.

“No, we just call Elaine that because she had a buttercup doll that she never but down when she was little.”

“Buttercup suits her more.”

“I agree.” Jan lets out a deep breath as if preparing herself for some arduous task, “Can I ask you for a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Can you kiss me?”

Oh. 

Jan turns bright red.

“Oh, nevermind, you don’t have to. I just wanted to get into the-”

Jackie cuts her off with her lips, and it’s like Jackie has been walking with her left foot in her right show, and finally, her feet are bare. It feels like a massive weight has been lifted off of her chest, and all Jackie needs to do is dissolve into the intoxicating taste of Jan’s lips against her own. Everything about them has always been fire and water, earth and sky. Two perfect opposites that come together in harmony to form one perfect symphony. 

But Jackie has forgotten. Jackie has forgotten how addicting it is to have someone who knows your body well enough to synchronize with your movements as if it is second nature. Jan’s lips against her own feel right on a spiritual level that nothing else has. All the little voices that tell her to hold back, to refrain, and to rationalize and silenced. They are washed out by a numbing, delicious sensation that Jackie never wants to end. 

She can feel one of Jan’s hands caress her face gently and it takes Jackie breath away because her hands are so soft and they are so light. Jan has always treated Jackie like she is precious, something that will break if you squeeze it too tightly. Jackie strokes the skin on Jan’s hip in circular motions in returns, and Jan leans into the kiss even more. It is as if the two women are in a battle of romance, to see who can elicit the most responsive sounds from the other. Completely, uncaring of the fact that an entire restaurant is watching them devour each other’s souls. 

The two women break apart gasping for air with their foreheads connecting their bodies and their spirits until a slow clap interrupts their peaceful little bubble. 

Jan’s father has a toothy grin on his face as he claps and nods his head in approval. 

Maybe Jackie might just survive.