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After the first day they met, Jackie visited Callie frequently. Callie could never tell when Jackie would appear, but all of a sudden there she’d be: sitting on the bed, leaning against the wall, sifting through Callie’s clothes in her closet. Jackie enjoyed helping Callie pick out her outfits, giving her different ideas of what could go together. Callie had never really cared a lot about what she wore beyond her favorite clothes, but she liked what Jackie picked out. Sometimes Jackie would pause on a piece of clothing as she was looking through them. She would get this faraway look on her face that Callie often saw on her mom’s face, before she moved past it.
They started to do fashion shows where Callie would dress up in the outfits Jackie picked out, and Jackie would walk Callie down the runway, teaching her to pose. Callie tried to get Jackie to dress up once, but Jackie shook her head.
“Sorry, Cals. I can’t.”
“But you always wear the same thing,” Callie pouted. Jackie was always wearing jeans, a blue-striped shirt, and a blue and yellow jacket.
“I guess I do, don’t I?” Jackie looked down at her clothes, her lips twitching down into a frown.
“Don’t you have other clothes?” Callie tilted her head. The Jackie she had seen in the videos had worn other clothes, so she must’ve had some.
“I used to…” Jackie sighed, “besides, I can’t fit in your clothes. I wouldn’t want to stretch them out.” Callie thought about getting Jackie some of her mom’s clothes, but she knew she’d get into trouble. Mom’s closet was off limits.
“Alright, you’ll be my fashion designer then.” Callie nodded to herself and grabbed Jackie’s hand, dragging her back to the closet. Jackie still jumped whenever they made contact, looking at their hands in disbelief.
Aside from fashion shows, Jackie played whatever game Callie wanted to play that day. Callie’s favorite game was ponies, and she had her collection of figures that she would add to the ponies when they were needed for the story. Most were from other toy sets and a lot were from happy meals, but during ponies they were all cowboys, farmers, and robbers. Jackie picked up the story pretty well, and Callie only had to correct her a few times. She would even do a silly southern accent that always made Callie giggle.
Playing with Jackie was the most fun Callie had when she wasn’t with Ilana. Jackie asked about her day and about her friends, and she let Callie talk for as long as she needed to. She remembered what Callie told her and then asked her about it later, like Callie’s crafts in class.
She once tried to take Jackie out to the kitchen to see her drawings on the fridge, but Jackie had refused. She said she liked Callie’s room better and thought they should stay in there. So, Callie started to bring her drawings to her room to show Jackie before she brought them back out to show her mom or dad.
Usually when Jackie was in her room, she was there for a few hours. But as soon as her mom or dad’s footsteps approached the door, Jackie would disappear. Sometimes she would be back as soon as her parents left. Other times she wouldn’t show up again for days. She never said what she did when she was away, and, as much as Jackie listened to Callie and asked her questions, she didn’t like to answer questions about herself.
She would answer some. When Callie had questions about the world or how things worked so that they could play ponies right, Jackie usually answered as best she could. It was when the questions were about her that she became more tight-lipped. Even simple questions would take a while. Like when Callie asked her what her favorite color was, she stared into her lap for a while before she said blue. Whenever Callie would ask questions about her mom, Jackie would hum and deflect with a joke or different story, but Callie always thought she looked sad.
One day, as they were playing together, Callie looked up at Jackie. “Where do you go when you go away?”
Jackie blinked at the question, her eyes wide. “I…I don’t really know. Somewhere far away.”
Callie nodded. “Bubbe said that’s why you can’t visit…but you visit me. Could you visit mommy? I think she’d be happy.”
“I don’t think it works that way, Cal.”
Callie tilted her head. “Don’t you hear her? She talks to you a lot, I think—but she’s always sad. Or mad. Maybe because you aren’t responding. But I saw at Bubbe’s; you make her happy.”
Jackie’s arms were wrapped tightly around herself, squeezing at the information. She shook her head. “No, I—we haven’t talked in a long time. Your mom must have a different friend.”
Callie considered what Jackie said for a few moments then shrugged. She went back to making her pony run around the farm, while Jackie had the farmer figure fall off of his horse and get trampled.
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Callie kept her friendship with Jackie a secret for months. She would race to her room, spending hours upon hours there as she played and talked to Jackie. Her parents kept asking her who she was talking to, but Callie would always just tell them it was her imaginary friend (even though Jackie was real). They accepted the answer, and they never asked her more about her imaginary friend.
Sometimes when they were playing, her parents would start to argue in their room. They didn’t know that Callie could still hear them through the walls, but she usually just sang to herself to drown them out. Jackie always stopped playing to stare at the door.
She started to spend weekends with her Bubbe more frequently, which Callie was always excited about. She could watch more videos with Jackie and her mom and hear stories. Bubbe was usually hesitant to share many stories, but she eventually would cave to tell one or two.
One weekend, she slipped a picture of Jackie and her mom from Bubbe’s house into her bag to take home. When she got back to her room, Jackie was sitting on the bed in her usual spot.
“Hi, Jackie,” Callie greeted in the whisper she always did, and Jackie smiled.
“Hey, Cals, how was your Bubbe?”
“Good. We went to the park and watched movies—look what I found!” Callie spoke as she dug through her bag, taking the Polaroid from the bottom.
She held the picture out to Jackie whose face dropped from inquisitive to pained. Callie’s grin faded. “Are you mad? I thought you’d like it.”
Jackie shook her head and cleared her throat. She reached out, delicately taking the picture between two fingers. “It’s not that. I just…haven’t seen this picture in a long time.” She traced the image of Callie’s mom and herself with her finger. Her wide eyes watered and she sniffled. Callie climbed up onto her bed to sit next to Jackie to look at the picture.
“This is when we were twelve. Your Bubbe took us down to Wildwood, and we went to the rides on the boardwalk. One of the games had a prize of a Polaroid camera that your mom really wanted, so we spent our entire allowance playing over and over to try and win it. We popped so many balloons.” Jackie’s lips twitched up into a smile. “We finally won it, and your Bubbe took this picture with it.” In the picture, Jackie and Shauna were wrapped in a hug, cheeks pressed together as they grinned widely, standing in the middle of a crowded boardwalk.
“You looked happy,” Callie looked between the picture and Jackie.
“Yeah,” Jackie sighed, wistful.
———————————
Nearly a year passed, and it became harder and harder for Callie to remember that Jackie was supposed to be a secret. Callie talked about Ilana all the time, so why couldn’t she talk about Jackie? They were both her friends.
Jackie always sat and listened when Callie was having a bad day, or when she was sad or upset because her mom yelled at her. She seemed affected too, usually wrapping Callie in a tight hug.
It was during one of these hugs that Callie mumbled a thought into Jackie’s shirt. “I don’t think my mom likes me very much.” Jackie stiffened against her hold, then she wrapped Callie even tighter in her arms. She thought she heard Jackie start to speak a few times, but she never actually responded. She just rested her cheek on Callie’s head.
———————————
Callie had become more and more aware of the time that her mom spent distracted at home. She was always home, but she was not always present. She zoned out frequently, and she definitely talked to somebody. Callie never saw Jackie with her, though.
Her dad was almost always at the store, and even when he was home they barely spent time together beyond dinner. He usually let Callie do whatever she wanted, even if mom usually wouldn’t allow it. That would lead to an argument, which usually led to Callie going back to her room or a weekend at Bubbe’s.
Still, whenever she showed her mom one of her drawings, she would smile and say: “That’s great, Cals.” It was never a smile like in her pictures with Jackie—it never reached her eyes. Callie had taken to looking at all of the picture frames in the hallway and through the family photo albums. She couldn’t find a single picture where her mom smiled like she used to. Not on her wedding day. Not at Callie’s birth. Not on Callie’s first birthday. All of her smiles were tight-lipped. The comparison between her smiles with Jackie and her smiles without Jackie was stark.
She just wanted her mom to be happy like that again.
The next time Callie was in the living room and she heard her mom start a conversation in the kitchen, Callie crept closer to listen in.
“...you’re not here right now.” Her mom mumbled as she cubed the meat up for dinner. A moment later, she stiffened. “Jackie.” She warned, still facing away. “Why can’t you just be quiet!?” She turned toward the corner of the kitchen with her knife extended.
“Hey!” Callie reflexively jumped out from her hiding spot into the kitchen, startling her mom who flinched, dropping the knife back onto the counter. “Mommy, don’t be mean to Jackie. She’s my friend.”
Her mom blinked rapidly. Her brow furrowed as she looked at Callie. “What did you just say?”
Callie immediately realized her mistake, but she couldn’t take it back now. “Jackie’s my friend, so you can’t be mean to her.” Callie pouted, tilting her chin up in defiance.
“How do you even—where did you hear that name?” Her mom stared at her skeptically. Callie shrugged.
“You just said it.” Callie refrained from sticking out her tongue.
“Callie.” Her mom’s tone gave room for no argument.
“Jackie likes to hang out in my room. She’s fun to play with.” Callie scuffed her shoe against the kitchen tile.
Her mom dropped everything and immediately rushed down the hall toward Callie’s room. Callie scrambled after her. “Wait! She doesn’t like it when you or daddy come near my room.” Her mom opened the door to her room, her shoulders tense, but the room was empty. She looked around the room, her eyes catching on something. She picked up the Polaroid that had been hidden behind the other picture frames and stared at it.
“Callie, grab your coat and get in the car.” Her mom stormed out of her room, Polaroid still in hand. Callie hurried after, pulling on a jacket, and following her mom to the car. She got in her booster seat, then her mom was driving them somewhere. Callie soon recognized the route to Bubbe’s.
They got to Bubbe’s in record time. As soon as her mom parked in the driveway, she stormed up to the door, firmly knocking on it. Callie got herself out of her booster seat and followed her mom.
“Shauna—?” Bubbe opened the door, but was cut off by her mom showing her the Polaroid.
“You told Callie?”
Bubbe sighed and opened the door further. Her mom went inside and Callie followed behind. Her Bubbe gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Callie, why don’t you go play in the living room while your mom and I talk?”
She nodded slowly, then went into the living room, halfheartedly playing with her toys.
“I can’t believe you told her about Jackie!” Her mom hissed.
“She snuck up to your room and found the pictures, sweetie. She was just curious.” Callie was barely playing with her ponies as she listened.
“That doesn’t mean you need to indulge her in it, mom. Now she’s saying that Jackie is her imaginary friend. I mean, what am I gonna tell Jeff?” Callie knew Jeff was her dad’s name. Did he know Jackie too?
“Don’t you think it’s time she knows? I mean, Jackie’s parents have been sending her birthday gifts since she was born. Jackie is such a big part of your lives, she’s gonna find out sooner or later.” Why did everyone know so much about Jackie except her?
“I wanted it to be later, mom. Much later. And I thought I told you to get rid of all of that stuff.”
“You know I couldn’t do that, honey. I kept everything…even the things you tore apart.”
“Just—” Her mom took a deep breath and sighed, “I think it’s best if Callie doesn’t come over again while this imaginary friend thing runs its course.” She wasn’t going to be able to come back over to see Bubbe? The kitchen fell silent.
“If that’s what you think is best,” Bubbe eventually responded, sounding disappointed.
The kitchen chairs screeched as they stood up, then her mom appeared in the doorway. “C’mon, Cals. We’re going home.”
Callie got up slowly, not wanting to leave Bubbe’s. When she walked past her, she wrapped herself around Bubbe's legs. Fingers carded through her hair. “I’ll see you soon, Bubbeleh.” Bubbe released her from the hug, and Callie reluctantly removed herself from her legs.
Her mom left without another word and was silent the entire drive home. When they got back to their house, her mom disappeared into her room with the Polaroid in hand. Callie trudged back to her room, pushing the door open. Jackie was sitting on her bed, looking at Callie worriedly.
“Everything okay, Callie?”
“No!” Callie exploded, her bottom lip trembling with emotion as she crawled onto her bed. “Mommy said I can’t go to Bubbe’s as long as you’re my friend. She never cares about any of my friends. Why does it matter?”
“Cals,” Jackie sighed, “with your mom and I there’s a lot of…baggage.”
“Baggage?” Callie tilted her head with a sniffle.
“It’s like…something from a long time ago that makes you sad.” Jackie tried to explain.
“But—she’s so happy in the pictures.”
“It’s complicated.” Callie hated that answer. It was what grown-ups said when they didn’t think she could handle the explanation.
“I just want her to be like that with me.” She wanted her mom to hug her and smile and see her. Like she did in those pictures and in those tapes.
“I’m sure she’s very happy when she’s with you,” Jackie soothed, but Callie just shook her head.
“I think I want to be alone now.” Callie hugged her knees on her bed. Jackie’s face fell. She waited next to Callie for a few moments, but Callie buried her face into her knees. “Go!” She yelled into her knees when Jackie’s presence at her side didn’t move.
“Okay, Callie. I’ll go.” Jackie’s voice strained.
And just like when her mother had asked all those years ago, Jackie left.