Art and Hot Pockets
In honor of International Women’s Day (Though its well after midnight when I’m posting this), I thought I would write something that features a strong, beautiful woman. So, enjoy some modern Jackrine.
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The rain is coming down fast on a dreary day in September. Outside, the streets of New York are nothing if not full of life despite the depressing mood. The temperature is lower than normal with wind coming in from all directions. As she stands alone in her small, quaint apartment she wonders if it’s even worth it-
“Earth to Katherine!” Jack’s voice cuts through Katherine’s internal monologue.
With an annoyed huff, she turns away from her laptop to stare at him, annoyance clear in her eyes. His holding a hot pocket in one hand and his sketchbook in the other. He’s also drenched, meaning he probably ran all the way to her apartment in the rain.
“Did you walk here?” She asks.
He smiles sheepishly, “Maybe.”
“You’re an idiot,” She says, rolling her eyes playfully. “What do you have there?”
“A Philly cheesesteak hot pocket,” Jack says, setting his sketchbook aside and approaching her with the other quarter of his lunch. “Try it. I’m not a fan.”
She takes a small bite out of the hot pocket. “It’s not bad.”
He hands her the rest of it. “But the superior hot pocket is the pepperoni pizza.”
Katherine vigorously shakes her and struggles to swallow the large bite she gad the taken. “Ham and cheese!” She exclaims still with food in her mouth.
He makes a face before brushing off the comment and reaching for the dishtowel on the kitchen counter to dry his hair. Katherine figures it’s a step up from him just shaking like a dog, so she lets it go and makes a mental note to get out a new dish towel when he’s not paying attention.
“So did you run all the way here in the rain just to talk about the hot pocket or-”
“No, no, no,” Jack answers in a rush. He lazily tosses the dish towel aside and grabs his sketchbook. He sits down on the couch and motions for her to join. She closes her laptop and sits next to him, watching him flip through many filled pages of drawings.
Finally he finds what he was looking for. He hands her the notebook to an open page where he had sketched a big double gate with a padlock surrounded by overgrown foliage. A worn down brick walkway leads up to the gates and a young girl in a dress with her hair in pigtails sits in front of the gate facing it. Next to her is a small backpack and a kitten licking at it’s paws. Katherine recognizes the image instantly.
“This is from my book,” She says almost in a whisper as she examines the drawing. “This is the entrance to the adandoned mansion. This is amazing, Jack. This is exactly how I pictured it.”
“So you like it?” He asks hopefully.
“I love it!” She practically shouts. “How did you know all these details?”
He hesitates. “Don’t get mad. The other day when I was here and you took a call to deal with yet another of Specs’ emotional ordeals, I read a little bit of what was on your computer.”
She opens her mouth to start an argument. Jack had a tendency to peek at her things, be it her computer, her phone, her mail. He seems to have a compulsive need to be invasive and they’ve fought over it a million times. The fact that he would look at it, create it, and then tell her about it is a little astonishing.
“Look, I’m sorry,” He says before she can argue. “I know you hate when I look at your things and rightfully so. I shouldn’t do that, I know. But I also know you’ve been doubting yourself about this book and I didn’t want you to give up another project that you’re passionate about because you think no one else will appreciate it. Well, I do. I think the book is great. Everything you’ve written that I could read in the time you were on the phone was amazing, Kath. You’re so talented. I thought that if I could just show you how much I believe in you, you wouldn’t give up.”
Jack kneels down on the couch in front of her and takes both of her hands. He looks genuinely sorry. “I’m sorry I looked at your things without asking.”
After a second she nods. “Okay. I’ll let it go.”
“Thank you,” He says and kissing the back of her hand. “You amaze me, Katherine. You can create life and worlds with just some words and punctuation marks and that is… that is so amazing. You are the most intelligent, beautiful, talented woman I know and I love you so much.”
“I love you, too, Jack,” She says. “Thank you. This drawing is fantastic.”
He shrugs. “You made it, I just drew it.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“No, it doesn’t, but I know what I’m trying to say,” Jack says, standing back up and stretching. He leans down to kiss Katherine briefly. “Do you have any pizza hot pockets? Because I’m still really hungry.”
“Yeah probably,” Katherine says, resettling herself as her desk chair and opening the document of her novel. It’s been an uphill battle of internal judgement and an inferiority complex, but Jack’s support never ceases to help. His support is one of the things that keeps her going.
“Just the damn ham and cheese!” Jack shouts from the kitchen. “Oh well, that’ll work, I guess.”
Ten minutes later, Jack is situated on the couch with his sketchbook and his large array of materials. They lapse into comfortable silence, both working on separate projects requiring total focus. Then after a few hours, they catch each other up on what they’ve done. Katherine finds herself writing more that day than she has in a while and Jack sketches up more and more scenes from her work in progress.
Katherine finds it to be so much easier to work when there’s someone in her corner. And after eating three hot pockets because Jack can eat nothing else.
