Chapter 8

October 1979

Red Foreman was seldom a man of many words, or actions of love aside from with his wife.

He spent all day painting his den a powder blue, a color he let Jackie pick out, so that she would feel more at home in her new bedroom. Her white painted rod-iron headboard rested against the far wall, along with her dressers, one of their old rocking chairs, also painted white to match.

She was folding her laundry, bobbing back and forth to a song, stopping short when the phone rang. Begrudgingly, she shut off her favorite song, Dream On by Aerosmith, and shuffled over to her telephone.

"Hello?"

"Jacklyn Buela Burkharticus." Eric's voice sang into the receiver, making her grin. "Hey, Foreman." She laughed. "Don't ever full name-icus me again." She scolded.

He laughed. "Noted. So, anyways, I'm at the airport, so you can't call me in the morning. I'll be in Atlanta." He told her nonchalantly. She froze, but instead of anxiety, relief bubbled up in the pit of her stomach.

Sure, she would have to deal with Donna being unruly and a blubbering mess of snot, but, her new best friend was home. She could deal with that, and she was positive they would be back together by Christmas. They always were. "Okay."

"Are you showing yet?" He asked. She rested a hand over her baby bump, grinning at the foreign feeling. "Yes, I'm three months today, actually." She leaned back on her pillows, propping her legs up, being careful to avoid her piles of folded clothes. "I'm not big, but, definitely pregnant. There's no hiding it anymore." She told him, and it was true. She was so small that unless she wore shirts three sizes too big, she was going to show. She chose to show, rather than look completely ridiculous.

Even if it meant she would be judged every step of the way. She was only eighteen, after all, and newly single.

She heard him shuffle on the other side of the phone. "I hate to cut this short, but in seventeen hours, you'll be able to speak to me in person." He told her. She grinned.

"Okay, have a safe flight, and I'll see you at the airport tomorrow!" She told him, before the line went dead, and she hung up her telephone. There was a knock at the door.

"Come in!" She called, sitting back up to resume folding clothes. "Jackie, honey, you have a visitor!" Kitty told her from the door way, her tone was bubbly but her face was less than pleased.

Furrowing her brows, she padded into the living room, hand over her swollen belly, and gasped. In the living room sat Pamela Burkhart, who matched her own gasp. She had always been tall, and so was her Daddy, so Jackie had no clue where her short stature hailed from. Pam's face contorted into one of disgust, and Jackie kept her face straight.

"Please tell me the baby is not a Kelso." She scoffed, and Jackie's face contorted into one of anger.

"I haven't been with Michael in three years, Mom, this baby is Steven's." She told her, and Pam cocked her head. "Who?" An exasperated sigh came from Kitty, who sat down beside Jackie, who was trying her hardest not to flip out.

"Steven. Sunglasses, curly hair..."

"Oh yes, the delinquent. Edna Hyde's boy." She turned her nose up in disgust. "Anywho, I trust that you're getting married, right?"

Jackie shook her head. "No, Mom, we aren't." She replied.

"Well, you're taking other precautions, right?" She asked. "No daughter of mine is going to be as whorish as that!"

Jackie scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. "I'm keeping it."

The truth was, she wasn't sure of what she would be doing, she was considering adoption. But Pam's resistance set a fire in her chest.

"Actually, I'm keeping him." She told her mother.

"Him?"

"I think it's a boy." She affirmed, challenging her mother, who looked her up and down with disgust. She never stood up to authority like that. Maybe Steven had rubbed off on her.

"Well then, I trust you have the means to take care of him. You no longer get your trust." Pam snorted. Jackie smirked.

"Oh, haven't you heard?" She asked. Pam quirked a brow. "You were negligent to read the divorce agreement. Daddy left the house in my name, signed over the Lincoln, and put the trust in my name completely." Her breath hitched, when her daughter stood. "You can't take anything from me. Didn't expect that did you?"

"I- You are not the child that I raised!" She howled. Jackie shrugged. "You didn't raise me. You pushed me out, and Alba took care of me my whole life. Bob and Joanne helped me when you abandoned me, and now here I am staying at the Foreman's." She quipped, voice calm and even, hand resting protectively on her baby bump.

"How dare you speak to me like that? I am your mother, and you will do as I say! Get rid of that creature growing inside of you, and you can come home!" The older woman scoffed. Kitty stood, pointing a finger in the woman's direction. "Don't you dare speak to her like that!"

She weighed her options, before turning her nose up in disgust. "Have a nice middle class life, Jacklyn. Don't come home."

Jackie laughed. "Pack your shit, and get off my property ASAP. I'm selling the manor." She called, but the door slammed without an answer back.

The smile on her face crumbled, and she looked tearfully at the woman in front of her. "Oh, honey." She soothed, arms coming to catch the girl, who fell into sobs.

Black Friday 1984

Black Friday.

The thought brought a giant smile to her face.

It was currently four am, and she sat in line in Miluakee, a less than pleased Eric standing beside her with a travel mug of coffee. Considering how violent these sales tend to get, Donna and Brooke stayed home due to their pregnancies, and she couldn't go alone.

She looked up at him.

"Can't you just feel the excitement?" She beamed, and he huffed out a sigh, his breath coming out in a puff.

"Yes, I'm thrilled to be standing here, freezing my nads off at four am so that you can save a few bucks." His tone was flat, a sickly sweet smile on his face. She rolled her eyes.

"Oh Eric, how can you be mad, on this, the most magical of holidays?" She imitated Fez, wrapping her gloved hands around her own travel mug. "My goal this year is to get a microwave!" She squealed, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Appliances were violent goals to get, but she was determined. And also, she needed an outlet for her anger. Steven had come back, acting like it was no big deal. And, she wasn't very thrilled about it. She really needed some form of release, and this was how she planned to get it.

He looked at her, face flat. "Lighten up, Eric, it's just for this year!" She pouted. He looked around. "Fine for you, I'm not even allowed to hit any of these people."

Neither of them had slept, bags set deep under their eyes. She started to laugh.

He sighed. This was going to be a long morning.

Contrary to what he believed, the morning wasn't that long. By six, they were on their way home, Jackie sporting a sore arm, but she had her goal item, a microwave.

She drove, hands lax on the wheel, a giddy smile on her face.

"You never cease to amaze me, Burkhart." He said sleepily, head resting against the window of her old Chevelle.

Silence.

It happened in a second, the wheel jerking out of her hands. The car skidded, spinning out of control, before stopping in a telephone pole. Glass shattered as the windows blew out, and her horn went off as she lay, face in the steering wheel, nose bleeding.

"Jackie!" He panicked, but she was limp.