I apologize for the wait, guys! I've recently moved and have been busy for a while.
Please see this link for my responses to your generous reviews: icelovesfire .tumblr (dot com forward slash) post/178587872874/responding-to-reviews-for-lmw
As always, thank you for the faves and follows.
On with the show! Enjoy!
xx
If there was one thing Pamela Burkhart longed for other than a six-pack and everlasting fortune, it was the approval of her mother.
A vision in scarlet, Mother Winthrop had, in her time, ruled the debutante scene in her hometown of Baton Rouge. Jackie visited her grandmother every other year before the woman's untimely death and never once saw her in anything that didn't somehow include an article shaded in scarlet.
It was Pam's color, as well - likely due in large part to her mother. As a young girl, Jackie would sit and watch her mother prepare for various elite charity functions while her father waited impatiently in the foyer. Pam would always sneak something scarlet - a bracelet, a pendant, a scarf, earrings or whatever else she could think of.
"It is tradition, my darling. We do not break tradition," Pam explained once when she caught her daughter eyeing the array of scarlet jewelry lying on her vanity.
"But I don't like scarlet, Mommy. It reminds me of blood," Jackie shuddered.
"Scarlet is the color of money, my dear. It is the way we do things. My great-grandmother Boutin was born to poor French farmers who sent her away to be a servant to a great English lord. It was there she fell in love with his son. Since Great-Grandmére, my grandmother married wealth. My mother married into an even older and richer bloodline. And I, I too married wealth. Do you understand what I am saying, Jacqueline?"
"That I'm richer than Adaline?" Jackie asked, naming a spoilt girl in her class that often pretended she was related to royalty.
"Yes, but no. I am saying that you, too, will marry wealth, when the time comes."
"But what if I fall in love with a poor boy?" Jackie inquired, already fancying the idea of living life as a reverse Cinderella at only eight years old.
Pam muttered something under her breath, indecipherable to Jackie's untrained ear, though she thought she heard the words "did" and "Marcos Aguilar."
"What was that, Mommy?" she asked.
"I said, you marry someone poor and I will disown you," Pam said. "I'll have your father cut you off and you will be as poor as your husband."
"Mommy!" Jackie said, tears filling her brown eyes at the thought.
"If you must fall in love with a boy of little means, please at least try to get him into a decent career and I might consider still loving you."
"I promise, Mommy. I will not disappoint you."
"And you must marry young, like me. It is the only way you can succeed in life. Don't do anything ridiculous like go to college. If there is not a ring on your finger by high school graduation, you've done something wrong and your man doesn't love you. You will know that he does when he gives you expensive gifts, like your father. If you want Mommy to be proud of you, it's always about the money."
"Yes, Mommy."
Before she met Adam, she'd often wondered if she made the wrong promise. She pushed Michael into dreams that would pay more than an astronaut and scoffed at his desire to be a tech geek. It was her refusal to be seen with anyone so nerdy that effectively shut down any of Michael's technological prowess, until Brooke coaxed it back years later. He'd buried it so deep that he convinced himself math was not his thing, when they all knew better.
Of course, she'd also gone from star student to failing her exams just so he wouldn't feel emasculated.
She'd apologized, once, on a weekend when she was still in Madison. She was staying at the place Michael recently persuaded his girlfriend to move into, preparing to watch her goddaughter so that the lovebirds could have a night out. Jackie observed as Betsy played with a calculator, an oddity that could only come from being the child of both Brooke Rockwell and Michael Kelso.
"Y'know, Michael. I never did tell you I was wrong to make you feel insecure about your math skills. So, I'm sorry," she said.
His jaw stayed open for a good ten seconds before he brushed off the apology and told her he would lack the confidence regardless of what she said.
But, when it came to Steven, she wasn't sorry. If the future he planned for himself panned out, he would currently be in the slammer with some bandana-styled freak named Billy Bob. She pushed him because there was so much more potential for his life than he realized. She wouldn't apologize for that.
Maybe the ultimatum went a bit too far, but she needed to know that he saw her as a permanent staple in his life. She needed the certainty that he wouldn't toss her aside for the first hot nurse he met, just because he'd seen her look at Michael the wrong way.
She'd gotten her answer, not with a nurse, but by the entrance of a stripper fresh off the Vegas stage.
Oh, pardon her, an exotic dancer.
He never cared about her at all. At least, not the way she did him.
But Adam already aspired to great things. Rather than force him into situations he wasn't comfortable with, she encouraged him in dreams he'd always pursued.
It was different with him.
Adam Han helped her grow up.
She glanced down at her scarlet swing dress, twirling to see the way her skirt floated in the floor-length mirror. In her current outfit, it was easy to imagine herself as a 50s housewife out on the town with her husband. All she needed to complete the look was a coat of bright red lipstick.
Jackie carefully applied her makeup, her eyes zeroing in on the groaning figure displayed in the center of the floor-length mirror.
"I look like a blueberry," Ade said from her spot near the closet.
"Please. In that case, we all wish we could look like blueberries," Jackie replied. "You look amazing. And I don't usually tell people that, so you can assume I'm right."
"I don't understand why I have to wear this color. Or this style," the older girl sighed, holding out a piece of her own swing dress.
"Mr. and Mrs. Forman met at a USO dance and since it's their anniversary, Eric thought it would be nice for us girls to dress in the color of the US flag. His ideas are usually pretty stupid, but this one I found kind of sweet," Jackie replied.
"But you're wearing scarlet, not red," Ade pointed out.
The words of Jackie's mother echoed as she responded. "Scarlet's better. Red is bland."
"Isn't red a color that symbolizes luck and good fortune in China?"
"Maybe. But it means passion in Korean culture, basically borders on social impropriety and signifies death. To them, red is a very unlucky color. I doubt Mrs. Forman wants that at her anniversary."
"Really? How do you know that?" Ade asked.
"My ex-boyfriend told me," Jackie shrugged. "He also said there are some Koreans that choose to believe red is a powerful color that wards off evil spirits, so I guess that's also an option. Anyway, I wear red a lot already. Scarlet I save for special occasions."
"Okay, I get that. What I don't get is why I have to wear blue."
"Because Brooke's wearing white and since I chose scarlet, blue is left," Jackie answered, dismissively.
"She can't wear it?"
"No way. Blue is not her color. I know it; she knows it. Brooke has a beautiful natural tan that makes her look washed out in blue."
"Donna?"
"She barely looks good in anything. Donna can pull off certain shades of blue, but they're more of the lighter variety. Red clashes with her red hair, but don't remind her, or she'll go back to that awful blonde. And white - let's just say she has this teal swing dress planned out that makes her look almost pretty."
Ade sighed.
"I look fantastic in white, though," she said.
"Just as you look gorgeous in this blue," Jackie said. "I don't doubt you'd look great in every color. That's the second compliment I've given you in less than an hour, so you have to believe it. I don't hand these out easily, you know."
"Me, I can pull off every color," she added, her voice thick with confidence.
"Even chartreuse?" Ade asked.
"Even chartreuse," Jackie confirmed with a nod.
"Damn. That takes serious genes."
"I know. I have yet to meet a color I wasn't born to wear. If only Donna looked half as good as I do, in everything I try on."
"Hey, you better not be talking badly about Donna," Brooke said, entering the room that used to belong to the redhead and was currently occupied by its former tenant and the cousin of Jackie's ex-boyfriend.
"Of course not!" Jackie said, dragging out the second word. "I can't believe you would accuse your own best friend of such a thing!"
"Making fun of her appearance is talking badly about her," Brooke said without a moment's hesitation.
"Damn. Well yeah, I was doing that," Jackie said, not at all surprised that the person who knew her better than any of them easily figured out her conversation. "But you've got to admit most colors aren't good to her. Maybe she should dye her hair black, like mine. Then she could vary up her wardrobe more. She should start by wearing less flannel."
"I like her red hair. You imagine her wearing flannel much more often than she actually does," Brooke said. "Be nice."
"Yeah, I don't really want a second black-haired girl in the group. I mean, except you, Adaliah. But you're WB's niece and we like him, so that's an automatic in for you, black hair and all. And of course you're also Angie's best friend and any friend of hers is probably a friend of mine."
"And Hyde's cousin," Brooke added.
"Right...yeah. Steven's cousin."
"Speaking of Hyde," Ade said, "what happened with you guys earlier?"
"What do you mean?" Jackie asked. "Nothing happened."
"Really? Because from where I was standing, it looked like you both fell and then my cousin caught you with his bare chest."
"Shirts versus skins is stupid. This is why co-ed games should always be shirts versus shirts. The boys just wanted to get us in our bras. They're so immature," Jackie said with a scowl.
"I think you liked it," Brooke said, her lips curving into a small smile.
"What? Why would I like it?"
"You're rambling. You ramble when you're trying to hide something."
"What are you talking about? I always ramble."
"True, but about hair and makeup and things of that nature. Like when we go to the mall and I try on a pair of shoes that you hate so then you start talking incessantly about how much you abhor them."
"Why would you want to wear platforms? You're already a freaking giant! One inch taller and you'd be the same as the Lumberjack," Jackie responded.
She glanced at Ade.
"How tall are you?" she asked.
"5'6"," the other girl responded.
"Damn. Everyone's taller than me. Mrs. Forman is the only one that isn't."
"See how she diverted the conversation away from the inquiry at hand?" Brooke asked, her gaze focused directly on Ade.
"I do see that. So, Jackie, if nothing happened between you and my cousin today, then why are you avoiding the question?"
"Oh, look at that!" Jackie said brusquely, "time for us to go! Adaliah, don't worry; you look divine. Brooke, hold on, I have a gold necklace that would go perfectly with that dress -"
As she talked and successfully prevented further discussion of the earlier incident with Steven, she noticed Brooke and Adaliah exchange a look and a knowing smile.
They were wrong. There wasn't any particular reason that she changed topics. She just didn't want to mention Steven.
It didn't have any correlation to what happened that afternoon.
A short time later, the women stood in the Formans' driveway as Red discussed travel arrangements. This bit of dialogue normally belonged to his wife, but he was presently trying to keep her in the house for as long as possible so that his surprise would stay under wraps.
"Jackie, Lia and Steven can come with us. Kelso, Brooke, Eric and Donna go with Bob. Fez and Laurie - on second thought, Fez go with Bob. Eric and Donna, you're with Laurie. Okay, that should be everyone."
"Wait a second," Jackie said, her expression akin to that of someone who just emerged from a horror flick and was already certain they would be unable to sleep for a week, "I can't be in the car with Steven."
Red sighed.
"And this is why Kitty figures this stuff out," he said.
"Okay, Jackie, why can't you sit in the same vehicle as Steven?" he asked.
"Yeah, Jackie. You afraid of me, or something?" Hyde asked.
She had to admit that he looked rather nice in his suit.
He still cleaned up well.
"Please," she scoffed, "I have no reason to fear you, or your suggestions about me and the milkman."
He blanched.
"C'mon, that's ancient history! And it was one time."
"Mr. Forman, is three years ago considered 'ancient history'?" Jackie asked, looking straight at Steven.
He met her gaze with a frown.
"Well, no, three years doesn't normally fall under the category of ancient history -" Red started.
"Ha!" Jackie said, shooting a triumphant look in Hyde's direction.
He glowered.
"Jackie, you shouldn't have any issue being near my cousin if nothing happened earlier, as you said," Ade told her.
She scowled.
"What's she talkin' about?" Hyde asked.
"Nothing!" Jackie said.
"As I was saying before I was very rudely interrupted," Red continued with a scowl of his own, "while three years is not ancient history, we started, battled and won the Korean War in that same time frame. So Jackie, you're coming with us and Steven, you are too, and if either of you fight about it, I'm sticking my foot so far up both of your asses that Jackie won't be able to sit on a plane."
If it was a choice between travelling in a different vehicle and not returning to California, or sharing a ride with Steven and going back to California, she knew her decision.
"Fine," she said. "But I don't understand why Eric can't go, instead."
"Because I'm not going to sit and listen to him talk about Luca Searunner the entire way to Kenosha," Red replied.
"Luke Skywalker! Skywalker!" Eric said. "Honestly, Dad, you'd think you would know that by now."
"Remember when he refused to discuss Star Wars? That was so nice, while it lasted," Donna said, wistfully.
"The year was 1980. In a galaxy far, far away, Luke Skywalker discovered he had a sister - Princess Leia Organa. During this time, Leia professed her love for one Han Solo, and he to her, which means I was right and Eric was wrong," Kelso said, grinning.
"Guys! We don't mention that grievous error! Clearly, this was all a plot by Darth Vader to destroy Luke and Leia. They better do a third movie to rectify the situation," Eric said, his hands moving quickly through the air.
"They'll do a third movie, man. Gotta milk the people for all their worth. The franchise is here to stay. They'll probably be bought by Disney one day and added to its theme park. But pretty sure the sibling thing's gonna stick," Hyde said.
"Hey, Eric, you ever thought about hooking up with your sister? I mean, since you always imagined Donna as Leia and you as Luke," Kelso said.
"Kelso! Shut up," Red said, "You're all a bunch of dorks."
"It's a lie, I tell you! A lie!" Eric said.
"Nerd," Jackie told him.
She watched as Red seemed to do a mental headcount.
"Kelso! Where's your wife?" he asked.
"Inside. She's checking to make sure Jolene knows Betsy's nightly schedule," Kelso responded.
Jolene Crowder was one of those rare teenagers that Jackie knew Red actually liked. She lived in the house on the back side of his and always kept her music at a medium decibel. She was a straight-A student, the star of the Point Place High women's basketball team, had a thing for cars and even knew how to score a touchdown.
On the occasional days that she wasn't at practice or viola lessons, she'd come help him in the muffler shop. His customers loved her.
Jackie was certain that if Red had another daughter instead of Eric, he'd want her to be like Jolene.
Hell, he'd already made it clear that he wished Eric was more like Jolene.
"She'll be fine. Jolene's babysat a lot of kids. None of their parents have ever had any complaints. Tell Mrs. Rockwell to hurry up," Red said.
"Mrs. Kelso!" her husband corrected.
"You mean, you're Mr. Rockwell," Hyde teased.
"We're the Kelsos!" he reiterated.
"Oh yeah, that's right. I forgot, what with your daughter's two last names. Tell Mrs. Kelso to get out here before Kitty figures out the dress theme," Red said.
Annoyed about being referred to incorrectly, Kelso left to retrieve his wife.
"Everyone else, in the cars, now," Red said.
Jackie looked forlornly at Laurie's car, where Eric and Donna quickly got in. She turned her gaze to Bob's, watching as Fez called shotgun and Michael helped his wife into the back the minute he returned.
She noticed Brooke mouth an apology when their gazes connected for a brief moment.
Both cars were on their way to Kenosha by the time Kitty emerged from the house.
"Oh, Jackie, don't you look lovely! I always knew a swing dress would be perfect for your figure. I can easily picture you in the '50s. Lia, dear, you're already very beautiful, but I do love that dress on you. And you're both wearing swing dresses! That reminds me of when my girlfriends and I would go out dancing, like when Red -"
"Kitty, come on, we have to get going. The others are going to beat us to the hotel," her husband cut in.
"Yes, yes," she replied, "I'm all ready. And Steven's wearing a suit!" she added, clapping her hands in delight as she took her seat.
"Okay, how do we wanna do this?" Hyde said, glancing at the backseat.
"Well, I like the window," Ade said.
"No way. I give you the window, Steven sits by me. I'll take the window, you're in the middle and Steven is next to you by the other window," Jackie instructed.
"Works for me," Hyde shrugged.
"Get a move on!" Red called, honking his horn.
The three scurried into the back, arranging themselves in the agreed order.
"How was the ride?" Brooke asked when they were all outside the hotel.
"Terrible," Ade said, "these two didn't talk the whole way here."
"It was very pleasant," Red said, "Sinatra was on the radio and Kitty and I could pretend it was just us in the car, even with the three twentysomethings in the back."
"Ah. Now you know what it was like on the road from Iowa," Brooke said, linking one arm through Ade's as Kelso took his wife's other one.
"Hey!" Jackie said, "I thought we were gonna go in together."
"Sorry, honey. I'm feeling a bit dizzy and Ade can steady me better. Why don't you walk in with Hyde?" Brooke said.
"Oh, screw that. Come on, Donna," Jackie said, trying her best to drag along the much taller and heavier redhead.
"Guess we're escorting Jackie," Donna told her husband as she grabbed his hand.
"Yay," Eric replied, sarcastically.
"Then I suppose you're with us," Jackie overheard Fez tell Steven.
"Man, I'm nobody's pity project," he replied, "I can fly solo."
"Hey there, hi there, ho there! Cheryl, I know you can see me!"
Jackie walked into the hotel ballroom with Donna and Eric, surveying the setup. It wasn't the way she would decorate for her future anniversary, but it did fit the Formans' style perfectly.
The moment they stepped into the room, the crisp 1982 evening was transformed into a '50s dance straight out of those old war movies Mr. Forman liked to watch. US American flag bunting lined the walls. The tables were draped in red tablecloths, with blue runners accentuating the vases of white carnations. A jukebox sat in the corner, currently silent while the live band played on stage. Bing Crosby's Swinging on a Star floated through the room. It was the only thing that didn't fit with the theme of the evening, due to Red's preference for '40s music over '50s.
Best of all, the open bar was serving Manhattans.
"I'll take a Manhattan," Jackie told the bartender.
"Excellent choice," he winked. "Guy trouble?"
"I just sat in a car with my ex-boyfriend," she informed him.
"Ah, I understand. I hope your evening improves," he responded, handing her the drink.
"Since when do you drink Manhattans?" Brooke asked, coming over to her.
"Since my best friend ditched me and tried to make my ex-boyfriend accompany me inside," Jackie said haughtily.
"Oh, calm down. I didn't ditch you. I would have gladly gone in with you if I didn't feel like I was going to topple over any second," her best friend replied.
Jackie looked Brooke over and immediately became concerned.
"Yeah, you don't look so good. Are you sure you wanna be here?"
"Of course. This is the Formans' special night and I'm not going to ruin it for them. I'll be fine as soon as I can sit down," Brooke responded.
Jackie was skeptical.
"What if you go into labor?" she asked.
"That's not going to happen. I've still got a couple months," her friend replied, allowing Jackie to help her to a chair.
"I'll make Michael get you some water. You stay here," she said.
"Michael!" she screamed.
"What?" he said, by their side instantaneously.
"Get your wife some water. She doesn't feel well."
"Babe! I asked you before we left if you were okay and you said you were!" Kelso said.
His concern was palpable.
"I'm fine. I just need a moment," Brooke assured him.
"But what if you go into labor?" he asked.
"That's what I said!" Jackie told him.
"Really, you two, there's nothing to worry about. I'm just going to sit down for a bit."
"Okay, I'll get you a glass of water and stay with you until you feel better," Kelso said, running over to the refreshment table so quickly that he almost tripped on the jukebox cord.
"I'm staying, too," Jackie said, taking a seat by the brunette.
"No you aren't," Brooke said, "I better see you on that dance floor."
"Hey, what's going on?" Hyde asked as he joined them.
"Nothing. I'm just resting for a minute," Brooke said.
"I wanna dance," Ade said, following behind Hyde. "Hey, Hyde, you should dance with Jackie."
He glared at her.
"Actually, I was about to ask the fair Jacqueline to dance," said a voice behind them.
They all turned to look at the new arrival.
"Desmond Sigurdson," Hyde said, a look of contempt resting upon his features.
"Steven Hyde," Desmond replied, cocking his head, "I'm surprised there isn't a beer attached to your hand."
"Gave it up," Hyde replied, tersely.
"Good for you," Desmond replied. "Alcohol can be poison. Only people that are able to drink moderately, such as myself, should partake."
Hyde gifted him with a withering stare.
"What say you, dear Jacqueline? Dance with me?" Desmond repeated.
The thought of dancing with someone as attractive as Eric's older cousin did appeal to her. There was also the thought that the others would keep trying to pair her up with Steven if she didn't accept Desmond's invitation.
That was something she would avoid at all costs.
"I'd love to," she said, letting Desmond take her hand. "Brooke, you will let me know if something happens, won't you?"
"Yes, of course," her friend responded. "Go have fun."
She caught Steven's hostile stare as Desmond led her onto the dance floor.
But it was unclear whether his look was because of her, or because of her dance partner.
"So, Jacqueline, what have you been up to since the last time I saw you? I believe you were six and your family had just moved into the area," Desmond said.
"Oh, you know, the usual. Got dumped a few times, did the dumping a few times, graduated high school, had a talk show, was assistant to Christine St. George, got fired, swept up hair at a salon, got my life together, went to UW, transferred to UCLA and now I intern for Gloria Monty. Oh, and I'm a godmother. What about you?"
"Well, I graduated top of my class from Duke, moved to Atlanta, invested my money into a burgeoning little media company called CNN and now work for Coleco."
Attractive, wealthy and intelligent. Desmond was exactly the kind of man her mother would approve of - the kind of man Jackie used to try to mold her ex-boyfriends into to appease Pam.
It wasn't until she was older that she realized nothing she ever did would please her mother, short of becoming royalty.
Even then, Pam would find something to complain about.
"That's wonderful. What kind of music do you like?" she asked.
"Classical, mostly. I do enjoy a good Vivaldi in the evening with a nice glass of wine," Desmond replied.
Her mother would approve. She, on the other hand, found him dull.
"Led Zeppelin? The Stones? Journey?"
The latter was Adam's favorite.
"No, I don't listen to rock. I'll occasionally pull out a more modern album, like Benny Goodman, but I mostly stick to classical."
"Oh," Jackie said, almost sympathetically.
His music taste left much to be desired, but there was more to a person than just music.
"What kind of movies do you like?" she asked at an attempt to salvage the conversation.
"Citizen Kane is pure poetry and I do love Carousel. Charlie Chaplin is my hero," he replied as they danced.
"What about Grease?" she inquired.
"That movie is ridiculous. The songs aren't even good," he answered.
Well, there was no rescuing the conversation after that blatant lie.
Just as she was about to politely excuse herself and return to her friends' much more reasonable tastes, she felt his hand move to an area that unquestionably fell below her lower back.
Gordon MacRae would not approve.
Jackie redirected Desmond's hand so that it lay on the nape of her neck.
In only a few minutes' time, she felt it land back on the spot it was in previously.
Just as she was about to push him off of her, she felt someone jerk him away.
"Hey, you okay?" Hyde asked, holding Desmond by the back of his shirt collar.
"I'm fine," Jackie replied, for once grateful to see her ex.
"I believe I was dancing with the lady -" Desmond began.
"And now she bids you adieu. Farewell," Hyde said, gesturing for him to get lost.
"I would take this in the parking lot if we weren't at Aunt Kitty's party. You should count yourself lucky," Desmond said, whipping out his suit jacket before relocating to the punch bowl.
"I never liked that guy," Hyde said, so low that Jackie almost didn't hear.
"Why not?" she asked.
"He used to sit on Forman's head when we were kids, even though he was about 40 pounds heavier than him."
"Poor Eric," Jackie said, shaking her head. "And if you tell him I said that, I'll deny it and then slaughter you."
Hyde smirked.
"Got it."
"Well, I guess that's it for dancing tonight," Jackie said, suddenly upset at the idea.
"Or, y'know, we could dance," Hyde said, nonchalantly.
Jackie narrowed her eyes at him.
"You hate to dance."
"Yeah, but you don't. Just think of it like prom night, okay? You're alone. I'm alone."
"So let's be alone together," she murmured.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing," she said. "I suppose it would get the others off our backs."
"And keep Sigurdson's hand off your ass," he added helpfully.
"Did you really have to bring that up?" she groaned.
"Sorry, doll," he grinned.
"Okay, fine. One dance. But under one condition."
"What's that?"
"Don't call me doll."
He chuckled.
"Yes, ma'am."
The band struck up a new song as she allowed Steven to pull her into his arms. Perhaps coincidentally, the slow, dulcet tones of Bing Crosby's It's Been a Long, Long Time began to play as they danced.
Coincidentally her ass.
"I was plannin' to avoid you tonight," Hyde confessed, moving her slowly to the music.
"I was hoping for that, too," she said. "What changed your mind?"
"Sigurdson."
"Well, I do appreciate you breaking that up. He doesn't even like Zeppelin and he thinks Grease is stupid. All he listens to is classical, or stuff from the 1920s."
"I thought you always wanted a man who was a classical pianist."
"Not anymore. That's boring. I like a guy with good taste in music. Like Adam with his Journey."
"Your ex likes Journey?"
"Likes? His sister told me he's thinking about coming to LA in July just so he can see them perform in the Rose Bowl."
"Looks like me and Adam Han have some things in common, after all."
"Cutting in like that with Desmond is exactly something he would do if he thought I were uncomfortable."
"What can I say? I'm used to protecting you from assholes. Old habits die hard."
"Oh, really?" she asked. "And who protected me from you when you were an asshole three years ago, telling me to sleep with the milkman and throwing your fake wife in my face?"
He sighed.
"Jackie -"
"Red! I can't believe you did all this for me! Oh, you are the sweetest man!"
Jackie's gaze fell on Kitty, who was shouting excitedly.
The matronly woman's eyes darted around the room before she gifted her husband with a kiss.
"I guess Mrs. Forman figured out Mr. Forman's surprise," she said.
It was Red's idea for the female attendees to all dress in the fashion of the 1950s. In addition to the swing dresses the girls wore, there was also an abundance of slim sheath dresses, tailored suits, pencil skirts with Peten pan collar blouses and polka dots. Teenage guests were donned in polo shirts with poodle skirts.
The men all wore suits, primarily because Red refused to put on his old outfit that he said made him look like a "damn sailor."
She swore that he almost blushed.
"Jackie, can we -" Hyde began again.
"It's time to eat! We will resume the dance later," said the band member currently holding a microphone on the stage. "And we hear there's some good grub, so you better get to it before it's all gone."
"Thank god! I'm starving!" they heard Kelso say.
"Didn't he just eat a hamburger at the Formans' a few hours ago?" Jackie asked.
"You know him. Never satisfied," Hyde replied.
"Thanks for saving me from Desmond. I'm gonna go get food now," she told him.
"Jackie, I really think we need to -"
"Jackie! Let's go before Kelso eats everything!" Donna said as she appeared and grabbed Jackie's hand.
"I'm coming!" she replied, looking over her shoulder to see Eric and Steven whispering in hushed tones.
She wondered what they were talking about.
"Michael! You better be getting your wife some food, too!" Jackie said.
"I am! Damn, Jackie! Don't yell in my ear!"
The evening hadn't gone as imagined, but now that Desmond was keeping his distance, maybe she could return to her earlier plan of avoiding Steven.
And he could return to his.
It never hurt to try, anyway.