Author Note: I know…it's been ages but real life got in the way and reset my horizon. Got some crap to take care of - you know how things get... I'll try to finish this story as soon as things calm down.
Chapter 11 – A Dried Up Piece of Mistletoe
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Eric had just finished watching his little interview with the very beautiful Anna Cantana on the late night news. There were clips of the students flipping pancakes with the culinary chef; there was an impromptu football game with Coach Mayfield and the funeral directors little mimic of dancing zombies ala Michael Jackson's 1982 video hit Thriller. Of course, how could he forget all the moon doggy faces of the teenagers in love with Print Masters?
That was the moment that Eric recalled his last conversation with Jackie at the hotel.
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"So….what's next?"
She smiled, "Yeah….what are you doing after?"
Eric shrugged, "I guess I'm gonna go see my folks and watch us on WFPP. Anna Cantana filmed a spot for the 10:00 news."
Jackie frowned and looked a little disappointed. "Oh. Okay. Well, thank you for inviting me and maybe we'll bump into each other some time."
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Eric pulled the badge from his shirt pocket and muttered, "I'm boned." He looked down at the badge in his hand and found that Jackie's handy-dandy employee, Nadine, had taken a photograph that embodied a rare moment in time. Earlier, he had been standing by the Mylar balloons and Jackie was leaning next to him in obvious conversation, but, in the mirror-like reflection of the balloons, it almost looked like they were a couple in love. Eric's gaze was on her lips and Jackie's eyes were big and expressive.
He almost felt embarrassed. No, check that. He was embarrassed. Jackie had left the proverbial door open to maybe something happening later and what did he do? He shut it in her face and now he was watching himself on the evening news when he could be spending time in the company of a beautiful woman/women who did him a humongous favor.
Eric groaned and used the remote to turn off the television. Just as he was about to put his head in the pillow he recalled the original bone-head moment of the year.
"What's your phone number?" he asked.
"My phone number? Why do you need that?" she questioned.
"I don't. My insurance company does. Why would I want to call you?"
Eric sat up - a dawn of recognition covering his face. He did have her number! He could call and apologize and somehow make amends. What if he needed Print Masters again in the future? He couldn't be rude after Jackie made his school event such a success!
Papers flew in abandon from the dresser drawer followed by socks and paisley patterned ties. Clutching the small piece of paper like a trophy, Eric thrust his fist in the air and shouted, "Yes!" Finding that telephone number was like winning Willy Wonka's golden ticket!
Near breathless, he dialed the local number and waited while it rang four times before the answering machine picked up. He hadn't thought about Jackie not answering nor had he thought about what he wanted to say. "At the tone leave a message because obviously I'm not answering." Jackie's voice replied over on the answering machine tape.
Taking a second, Eric controlled his breathing and replied, "Uh…hey…Jackie. It's me. Eric. You know….Eric Forman? Anyways, I wanted to call and thank you again for coming to my Career Day and I'm sorry I didn't ask you…AND your friends out for drinks or something after…. but, if you get this message…. my phone number is 262-555-3742. Call me? Okay!"
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"Miss Burkhart….you seem to have the most popular booth in this event." Anna Cantana held the microphone in front of Jackie's face waiting for a response. And she didn't hesitate to respond, "I know! Print Masters is a perfect "first job" for the graduating student. We have flexible hours and a health plan." While she spoke, Jackie turned until she was sure the camera got her best face.
Anna Cantana chuckled softly, "You seem pretty excited about the event."
Jackie shrugged, "It is publicity and we need to be where the public is."
Anna nodded her head knowingly. "Well thank you Miss Burkhart and I hope you employ a lot of recruits."
Jackie smiled at the television – she still had it. That "it" that the camera loved - the perfect tan and smile. Her eyes twinkled and her lips were painted a vibrant shade of red. Perfect. .Perfect.
Clicking the remote, Jackie turned off the television and yawned. She was slightly exhausted and considerably excited about what transpired during the event. Even if damned Eric didn't want to hang out afterwards, that was fine. Nadine and Lydia bought drinks at the steakhouse as the little gang of three celebrated success.
Jackie reached into her purse, seeking her lip balm and her fingers tripped over something thin and plastic. The keepsake badge Lydia had been bragging about. Jackie turned it around and what she saw made her jaw drop. The picture backdrop was all the silver Mylar balloons and there as big as life, Eric was staring at her mouth. Her perfect red lips. Eric Forman looked infatuated. No, wait a tick. He only reserved that look like for Donna Pinciotti. Ohmigod!
The ringing of the telephone startled her, the badge dropping from her fingers to land on the shag carpeting. Jackie glanced at the clock. 10:35. It had to be someone calling in sick for the next day or a wrong number. Eh, let it ring. Jackie stood up and left the answering machine to record the message. She had a warm bath planned and in her mind, the bubbles were already popping.
She was already half undressed in the bathroom when the machine picked up with her recorded message. "At the tone leave a message because obviously I'm not answering."
Then she heard, "Uh…hey…Jackie. It's me. Eric. You know….Eric Forman? Anyways, I wanted to call and thank you again for coming to my Career Day and I'm sorry I didn't ask you…AND your friend out for drinks or something after but, if you get this message my phone number is 262-555-3742. Call me? Okay!"
She smiled and ran to the phone trying to catch it before it disconnected.
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Eric gazed up at poster of Marty McFly taped to his ceiling and clutched the badge in his hand. She never picked up. Maybe he could – no check that – he should send flowers tomorrow. This outstanding day deserved to be celebrated and he was an idiot for not giving the star of the show a proper thank you.
Well, at least the lovely Anna Cantana helped him relive that Jackie moment for at least 30 seconds! He closed his eyes and exhaled a soft sigh of satisfaction. Eric Forman fell asleep, fully clothed and smiling as he dreamt about the best day of his life.
The best day ever.
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Lydia was sitting on the top of the checkout counter regaling all of the Career Day events to Harold while sipping her coffee. "Don't worry Harold…there's always the Racine store…if you're lucky."
Harold put a hand over his heart and whispered, "No!"
Nadine smiled, "But Harold, there are a whole lot of…ladies….at that store."
A caterpillar eyebrow lifted as Harold's curiosity was peaked, "Really?" A small but firm hand patted his shoulder as Jackie passed by, "Yes Harold, I was even thinking of promoting you to dock manager…." She winked over her shoulder and continued walking towards her desk. "Lydia, Nadine, staff meeting in thirty minutes."
Lydia smiled and Nadine bit her lip. A new home for Harold!
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The following Wednesday sped by for Eric. He was like the school celebrity – all the students who attended the Career Day event loved him and the ones who missed begged for a second one in Spring. Eric checked his mail cubby outside of Principal Greenspan's office while Cindy Betz shyly waved hello.
Eric smiled politely and reached into his sport coat pocket and ran his fingertip around the plastic badge. What a day! Thanks to Print Masters employee, Lydia, what a reminder!
He turned to Cindy. "Hey, if Arthur has some time this afternoon, I'd like to meet with him."
Cindy's cheeks were tinged with pink. "I'll check Mr. Forman and get back to you."
"Thank you Cindy….and have a great day."
Eric Forman actually whistled while he walked to his office.
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Dr. Maxwell looked at the patient file in his hand and looked at Red Forman sitting on the examining table clothed in a cotton gown and black socks. The black stocking feet swung aimlessly below pale white legs. "Well? What is it doc? I hate waiting."
Maxwell lifted a brow. "For now, we're going to call it stable Angina. It's a pain that is predictable…which you know because you are taking Nitroglycerin…and it presents itself during exertion or extreme emotion distress….as in you worry too much about your wife."
"Well that's a dumbass diagnosis if I ever heard one." Red muttered, "How do I prevent this Angina thing?"
Used to his patient's sullen disposition, Maxwell smiled, "Well the good news is that there are some new drugs on the market, channel blockers that relax the blood vessels that increase the supply of blood to the heart and a new drug that we are going to start you on is called Digoxin. In your case, Digoxin is a medication that helps your heart work more effectively to send blood through the body."
Red thought back to the gray face in his bathroom mirror and he exhaled slowly, "So this weakness…it's not enough oxygen in my blood?"
Maxwell nodded, "Well yes, that and you aren't eating properly and don't get me started with added stress and no rest."
Red had the good sense to look shamed – he was guilty of all the above. "So…this digoxin…no more nitro?"
The doctor shook his head slowly, "Mr. Forman, you had a prior heart attack, you are under duress and need to slow down. You'll have this for the rest of your life. Slow down so you at least have a life."
"But my wife." Red argued.
Softly, Maxwell added, "Live better so you can be there for your wife."
Red's shoulders dropped. He knew the doctor was right and there wasn't one damn thing he could argue about. He did need to get more rest and should learn to eat better but how could he when Kitty was confined to Serenity Palms? She needed him.
No, she needed him to be healthy.
Red looked at his cardiologist. "I'm going to take better care of myself - I promise."
Maxwell squeezed his shoulder, "Now that is something good to hear. Red, after you change back into your clothes, go see the receptionist at the front desk and your new prescriptions will be waiting. I want to see you back here in three months." The doctor scribbled something into the patient file and opened the door. "Three months and don't forget.
Red nodded. "I'll be here." At least he hoped that was true!
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Jackie's fingers were flying over the calculator as she totaled the debits against the credits in her book. A stack of assorted invoices were clipped in neat little piles and the Print Master's checkbook was off to her right. Angus Manning, the owner of the company was due in later that day for a meeting and Jackie wanted all of the business accounts in order.
A discreet cough came from her left but Jackie waved away the employee and mumbled, "Busy!" as she continued to fill the bookkeeping columns with positive numbers.
"Boss woman….look up!"
Jackie rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh, "I'm busy, what do you want?"
Nadine presented a stunning bouquet of soft white gardenias with bright yellow poppies against pale blue larkspur. The flowery package was wrapped up in green paper and protected by a clear plastic cellophane wrap. "Someone got flowers!" Nadine sing-songed.
Jackie set down her pencil and grinned. "Me? Flowers? Gimme!" she said excitedly. Nadine handed over the fragrant bouquet and added, "There's a card!"
Expectantly, Jackie held out her hand while putting her face in the lovely spray. The flowers were gorgeous. Using her pink painted fingernail, the flap of the envelope was splayed open. She carefully tipped the card into her palm.
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Jackie:
If it wasn't for you – and your friends – yesterday would have been a total disaster. I owe you big time. I'm having a pre-Christmas party at my apartment Saturday night. It would be great if you – and your friends – could be there. Nothing fancy, just dinner and conversation.
I would love to say "thank you" in person.
Eric.
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Jackie smiled. A party? A personal thank you? Well, that surely had to make up for the rude way his Career Day ended and a silly voicemail message. She tapped the edge of the card against her desk top. Okay, she would give Walter a chance to redeem himself. Let him show her what he was made of.
This would be fun.
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Red noticed that Kitty's door was closed. Her private room door was rarely closed and he took a deep breath and tried not to panic. Recalling Dr. Maxwell's words, he knew that if he appeared worried Kitty would know something was wrong. Everything was fine. For the moment. The door was closed – it was simple as that.
Then he heard the sound of dishes crashing on the floor.
Red pushed the door open to find the day nurse looking up with an expression of HELP on her face. Kitty was angry and flailing at the covers of her bed. The breakfast tray was upside down on the floor and a second nurse was trying to clean up the mess.
Red hurried over to his wife's beside. "Kitty…sweetie, what's the matter?"
At the sound of his voice, she turned her head and stared at him with blank eyes. "Who are you and why am I here!
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Dr. Gilmore frowned and tapped his pen against the clipboard. "This….lapse….for a better word is not uncommon. We will reevaluate her medication Mr. Forman, but for the time being, just carry on as if nothing is wrong. Your wife will have some confusion but if you don't draw attention to the fact that she can't remember…well, it will confuse her less. Do you know what I mean?"
Strangely enough, Red did. When the kids were small and fell down, scraping knees and elbows, crying into the kitchen, Kitty always pretended they were just little boo-boos and not the huge bloody caverns that Laurie or Eric thought they were.
Just play it down and keep Kitty calm. Red Forman could do that. Yes, he could. Well, that after a small detour to the local store.
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"I love them and they are the perfect color for my desk and the answer is yes."
The phone almost slipped out of Eric's hand. When he unlocked his apartment door to the ringing telephone, it was a dash to the machine before it went into message mode. "Hello!" he said breathlessly.
A perky voice replied that she loved his flowers and yes she would be happy to come to his party but only if she could bring Lydia, Nadine and Harold. Harold? Eric couldn't wipe the smile from his face and was already planning the impromptu party menu in his head.
Was his apartment big enough? Would Taylor be interested in the flirtatious Miss Lydia? Eric reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the badge, smiling at the gift. Nah…Taylor would probably go for the more quiet and tame Nadine. Who was Harold? Whatever! He needed decorations, groceries, alcohol and extra dishes. This was going to be a great party!
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It was a fluke that Eric had planned on dropping by the house because he needed some extra dishes for the little Christmas party he was hosting at his Kenosha apartment. Knowing his mom, there was a good set of Grandma Sigurdsson's china somewhere in storage. He had swung by Serenity Palms to say "hello" and got roped into searching for a specific Christmas ornament for Kitty's little bedside tree.
"It will only take a minute of your life son; don't be a dumbass on something as simple as this."
Well, when Red put it that way….who was he to refuse?
Wasn't it strange how small the old homestead seemed when you didn't live there anymore? It was like going back to the old merry-go-round that had seemed huge as a kid, but was now merely a metal disc that spun around aimlessly.
Nothing stayed the same.
He let himself in through the backdoor with a key hidden under a rock. The house smelled closed up with just a hint of Lysol. No warm cookies waiting for company. No television cranked full blast…just a pine scent and the click of the thermostat turning the heater on.
The attic was where Kitty Forman kept everything. Eric hadn't been up here in years and was nearly bowled over when he saw all the boxes and trunks that lined the sloped walls. Then when he almost felt like giving up, he found it. - the old milk crate that protected his best comic books. The same crate he kept in hidden in the back corner of his bedroom closet so many years ago. That was definitely going in the back of his Mazda RX-7.
Picking up his mother's dusty duct taped box, he walked over to an old pine rocking chair and sat down. It was with much trepidation that he decided to open it. His fingers got as far as lifting the top right edge and he stopped. Did he really want to open his mother's faded memories here?
In the Forman attic?
Hell yeah!
It was just a dried up piece of mistletoe surrounded by faded red plastic holly berries. It must have been...what...20? 30 years old? Yet it sat in this old shoebox wrapped in pale yellow tissue paper with such care that it must have meant something.
Some surprise that turned out to be!
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A/N: The story of the mistletoe continues next chapter. Didn't know where to make the break.