And So She Slept

Bon Voyage

Sticking its crisp corner out of Jack's worn denim pocket, the baby blue envelope swayed with his stride as he opened the door of apartment 3. The scene was just as Krystina planned - chic vintage travel decorations donned every doorway and tabletop of the loft, and the head table's ceremonial silver bucket was overflowing with cards of every color. Between the chattering of polite small talk that always plagued similar types of gatherings, the sounds of rhythmic drums were followed by folk guitars. Had the large sign on the wall not said "Bon Voyage", party goers would have assumed someone was out of skips on their music app.

Smiling with pressed lips at the various people standing around the snack table, Jack protectively touched his fingertips to the envelope in his back pocket. Feeling the sharp tip of the corner ripple over the ridges of his thumbprint, he sighed with relief; his anxiety would have to wait until she opened it before escalating to a panic. For now, he decided to hold onto it. Knowing it was still safely where he wanted it to stay, Jack shuffled through the two younger women who were waiting for Krystina to open the next bottle of White Zinfandel. Nodding when she looked up, he was thankful to see his sister.

"Jack!"

"Hey Krys, need a hand?"

Not willing to verbally admit she needed the extra muscle, she smirked and handed the stubborn pink bottle to her younger brother. She shook the condensation off of her hands and blamed the moisture for giving her trouble with the corkscrew. The two younger women watched Jack effortlessly pop the cork, letting out a slight gasp and slyly exchanging glances at the way his forearm looked as he worked. Handing it back to his sister, a puzzled look washed across his face as they walked away with full glasses and ear-to-ear grins.

"You are so unbelievably blind," Krystina laughed. "Can you not see that?"

"See what?" he asked, genuinely curious. Nervously running a hand through his brown hair, he shrugged in response to his sister's facial expression.

"Seriously, what would you do without my help? They were both into you, just like that tall glass of morning regret in the tie over there is into me," Krystina said through her teeth as she smiled and air toasted the man near the loft window, who quickly returned her gesture and raised her a head nod.

"Eh, not my type," Jack shrugged as his eyes casually surveyed the midsize crowd.

In between the cozy furniture and pop up party tables, people mingled and picked at their small plates of salts and sweets. Amidst the John Hughes-esque grouping of like social types, the conversations all shared one common denominator - the elusive guest of honor. Why is she moving? Did she join the Peace Corps? Is she running away from something? Why doesn't she want to settle down and have kids like everyone else? Is she really leaving the country or is this all for attention?

"Of course they're not. She hasn't been out all night, you know. Why don't you go get our girl, ok?" Krystina spoke, seemingly reading Jack's mind. She motioned her head toward the hallway, although Jack already knew the way.

As he left the table, a perfect line of sight opened between Krystina and the mysterious man with the salt and pepper hair. She smiled, pretending to be shy, as he began to make his way across the room to her.

Walking down the hallway, Jack took his time as not to appear too much on a mission. He looked at the framed photographs on the wall and grinned at the candidness of the images. He stopped to look at his favorite one before reaching the last door on the left. The day that photo was taken was the day he knew he loved her...and always would. Almost fifteen years later, he stood outside her door the way he'd done before when she, orphaned, came to live with his family after the car accident that took her parents. Taking a breath, he turned the handle and closed the door behind him.