Note: Look it's just really important to me that you all know that Bev is played by present day (2022) 61 year old Jennifer Coolidge. You're not allowed to picture her as anyone else. It's Jennifer Coolidge. Alright thanks and enjoy!
Chapter 6
I Woke Up Married Today
As soon as the Stevens welcomed them inside their home, which was now a two-story Spanish Colonial instead of a small apartment, Jack made a b-line to the punch bowl. Janet, who'd kept glancing over at him with a concerned look on her face when he wasn't asking for directions during the ride over, fell in with a group of friends. He recognized some – Terri, Betty Stevens, and a regular they'd met at the Beagle back in the day – but the other two he'd never seen before in his life.
He dipped the ladle and downed the contents, not even bothering with a cup and hoping this was spiked. Rum? Please be rum. Yeah, that was rum. The contents began to spill down the sides of his face and onto his ugly sweater, but he didn't care. He just needed to be drunk as quickly as possible.
"Wanna meet Furley's hot wife?"
Jack spit out the punch, startled by Larry who seemed to materialize out of thin air.
"Who's hot what?!" he shrieked, wiping his face with his sleeve.
"Furley's new wife. Remember the woman he met on that cruise? They eloped last night. Can you believe it? Look at her, the lucky bastard!"
Jack turned his head and, sure enough, there stood Furley with a blonde on his arm. She was around Furley's age, curvy and voluptuous in a leopard print dress and big...blonde hair. And she was tall, with high heels accentuating her height. She dwarfed Mr. Furley, but he didn't seem to notice or care. It was clear his old landlord was smitten. A downhearted grimace formed on Jack's face – not because he wasn't happy that the guy had finally found someone, but because he was reminded of yet another person who'd cared about him that he'd managed to lose touch with.
"Ya know, I've never been one for older women, but if I weren't married..." Larry trailed off.
Jack snapped his head back toward Larry. "You're married?"
"Real funny, Jack. You told me you'd stop joking about it," Larry said, feigning being hurt. "Come on, let's go say hi."
He motioned Jack over to Furley, his wife, and a few other guys he didn't know. When the group spotted him, they let out a chorus of "look who finally made its" and "there he ises." Jack produced an awkward, crooked smile, completely unsure of what to say to a group half full of strangers and Furley's hot wife.
"Long time no see, stranger," Mr. Furley said, playfully poking Jack in the arm. He was grinning from ear to ear.
"Yeah, uh...how long has it been anyway?" Jack asked, attempting to casually fish for information.
"About a month, so too damn long!" Furley said dramatically, but still smiling widely. "Jack, I'd like you to finally meet the gal I've been gushing about, Beverly. Bev, I'd like you to meet Jack, the son I never had." He leaned in closer to her and whispered an aside, "He's the one I taught to like girls."
"Ohh!" she lit up in recognition of Furley's stories. "I've heard so much about you, Jack! The way my Ralphie goes on about you! And, you know, the way that you were! But aren't anymore! Which either way is fine by me, live and let live, you know? It's the 90s, am I right? But Ralphie, he was so proud. What you two have is so sweet, I could just die," she said in one breath before playfully pinching Jack's cheek. "You are welcome over at our place any time. Well..." she trailed off, looking suggestively at Mr. Furley who mirrored her expression, "as long as you knock first." Bev and Furley let out a simultaneous chuckle and booped each other's noses.
Mr. Furley briefly stopped his canoodling to walk over and wrap an arm around Jack and Larry. "And to think, if it weren't for you kids all pooling your money together and buying me that trip for my birthday, Bev and I never would have met. I don't know what I would do without you fellas," he said, dramatically pulling them in close, squeezing the two men into awkward positions.
Bev cooed and pulled a disposable camera out of her purse to snap a picture. "Everybody squeeze in tight!"
"I don't know if we can get much tighter," Jack squeaked, gasping for air.
"Oh, isn't that the perfect picture," she said, snapping one and rolling the camera's wheel to take another. "Three beautiful boys. God love yas," she said and walked over to give each of them a peck on the cheek, which gave Jack and Larry an opportunity to break free from Furley's grip.
"Thanks Bev. You're a doll," Larry said. Jack winced judgmentally at his uncharacteristic compliment.
"Oh, you're the doll!" Bev said, squeezing Larry and causing his head to land directly on top of her breasts. He smiled blissfully.
"Larry, get your face out of that woman's breasts!" Terri called from across the room.
"Yes, dear!" Larry said, dutifully pulling away. Jack raised an eyebrow at the exchange.
"Hey Ralphie?" Bev asked, turning back to Mr. Furley.
"Yes, snookums?" a still beaming Mr. Furley responded.
"I need to run to the little girl's room. Could you...help me with my dress zipper?" she asked, winking suggestively before walking off toward the bathroom.
"Huh? Oh!" he exclaimed, catching on. "Right behind you, sweetiekins," he called, making his way after her. "I'll talk to you kids later," he mumbled over his shoulder.
Jack looked after them, his mouth agape and stunned to silence. But he couldn't help but smile genuinely at them after a moment. He shook his head and looked at Larry, who appeared to be tearing up.
"...you okay, Lar?"
Larry placed a hand on his heart and waved off Jack's concern. "I'm just so happy for him," he replied dramatically.
"Happy or jealous?" Jack snarked.
"Hey, hey! What'd I say about the jokes?"
"Alright, alright," Jack backed off. "So this...wife of yours. Tell me how you two met again?" Jack asked. He felt like he was starting to get good at this. Don't ask direct questions; ask the kinds of questions that imply you already know but simply want to hear the story again. Larry, who loved to talk about himself, would naturally take the bait. He was a genius.
"You get hit in the head this morning or something?" Larry asked.
"I very well could have," Jack replied, monotone.
"You've been acting awfully strange today, Jack," he added, then waved it off. He really did enjoy an opportunity to talk about himself and the great love of his life. "Ah, the stars aligned that day," he said in his wistful, melodramatic Larry style. "You remember how drunk I was, don't you?"
"I...yeah. I sure...do. I do, yeah," Jack played along.
"No need to play dumb, Jack," he said, wrapping his arm around him and gazing off toward the far end of the room, his focus far away and somewhere else entirely. "Yeah, if I hadn't had that extra Long Island iced tea, there's no telling where we'd be today. But because you and Janet decided not to skimp on an open bar for your wedding reception, I went a little crazy. Sue me. Of course, the only one who should've been doing any suing that night was me. I mean, who puts stairs in the middle of a reception hall? Don't they know people get drunk at those?"
Jack had no idea where Larry was going with any of this, but he continued to nod along.
"Anyway, you remember the rest. I fell down the stairs, cracked my forehead open, got myself a minor concussion, and the rest is history. Nearly shut down the entire reception after the ambulance arrived, but it was worth it, am I right?" he chuckled out the last few words.
Jack motioned as if to say 'that's it?' "Worth it how?"
"Dontcha see, Jack? If Terri hadn't flown in from Hawaii for the wedding, fresh from her breakup with that Dr. Raja," he said the name with contempt in his voice. "Then she would've been far less likely to spend time nursing me back to health."
"Larry!" Jack said, running low on patience. "How on earth does Terri or this story have anything to do with your w-ohh my god," Jack gasped, the w of 'wife' morphing into the 'oh' in a dramatic realization. "Oh my god, oh my god," he said, sinking into the nearest chair.
Larry ignored Jack's theatrics. "It's like the cement in those stairs knocked some sense into my skull that day, Jack. I suddenly realized that I couldn't keep running from a real, authentic relationship anymore. I wanted to settle down, and I knew if I was going to settle down with anyone, it was going to be her. Ah, it was always going to be her." He turned toward Terri and shouted across the room. "Isn't that right, Ter Bear?"
Terri looked back over at him then turned away to roll her eyes at Janet and the other women, but she was smiling at the same time.
"I don't know if I can...this just keeps getting...I don't know if I can take much more of this," Jack said quietly to himself, feeling as though he were going to lose his mind again. Not because he wasn't happy for the two of them, because of course he was – it was because the entire world kept growing more and more upside down and bizarre. Furley, married to a sexy older woman? Larry, married at all...to Terri?" It was beautiful. And it was insane. "Will you uh...will you excuse me for a minute? I need to find a bathroom to wipe this up," he said, gesturing to the punch that had plastered the front of his shirt.
"Sure, pal," Larry said. "Might want to use the one upstairs, though," he added with a wink and slapped Jack's back before moseying off toward Terri and the others.
Jack walked into the next room, hoping to find a place to be alone and instead landing himself in front of the kitchen's entrance and nearly colliding with a busty, auburn-haired woman. She was holding a tray of what appeared to be cream puffs and used Jack's shoulder to regain her balance. "Well, there you are, stranger," she said flirtatiously. "Try a cream puff?"
Before he could answer, a cream puff was stuffed into his mouth, causing him to nearly choke on the thing. "Do...I know you?" he said with his mouth full.
"Come again?" the woman purred, her hand still balancing on his shoulder.
"I said," he added more clearly, finally managing to swallow and coughing away the rest. "Do I know you?"
"Oh, don't be coy, Jack," she said, lifting her hand from his shoulder and using it to playfully tap him on the nose. "It turns me on," she whispered.
"That's great but, uh...as it turns out, I woke up married today," he looked back over his shoulder and searched for Janet. Their eyes eventually met from across the room and he saw her raise a concerned eyebrow. "Thanks, though," he said, turning back to the woman. "I really appreciate it." He cordially shook her hand before hightailing it to the nearby staircase. The woman looked after him, stunned.
He had to get away. He needed to be alone for one damned second to process it all. The only time he'd had to himself all day was in that ugly van moments before Larry scared the hell out of him. Work was still on his mind. He may no longer be the face of LA's premiere local cooking show, but he still had a job. Right?
The second door on the left side of the hallway at the top of the stairs was slightly ajar, so he chose that as his hideaway. He entered a room with floral wallpaper and floral accents – way too much floral in general (had the Stevens always been this into floral?)– and plopped down onto a bed laden with coats. He noted the phone on the bedside table and, after briefly debating with himself, picked it up and dialed.
"Yeah, Hank Ross, please," he said into the receiver. A pause. "It's Jack. Jack Tripper? Forget it. Just get him on the line. It's urgent."
He took in a deep, frustrated breath as he waited. Finally, the disgruntled producer picked up the phone. "Who the hell is this?" he said, agitation in his voice.
"Hank? Hank, it's Jack. Do you know me?"
"Jack who?!" he yelled.
"Jack Tripper. Does the name ring any bells? Any bells at all? Do we work together in any capacity whatsoever?"
"Never heard of you in my life. How the hell did you get my number?"
Damn it. Jack had worried that Hank wouldn't know him in this life, but he hadn't wanted to accept it until he'd heard it from his boss's mouth. "Let's just say we've met. Look, I have to talk to you about the show. You've gotta get Guy Frisco out of there. He's all wrong. He's too...soft."
There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment, followed by uproarious laughter. "Who is this? Is this Ken? You crazy bastard. You really had me there for a second."
"No, it's not – "
"Merry Christmas, you old son of a bitch. Tell your wife I said 'hi,' alright?"
"N-no, no Hank, wait..."
The line went dead. Jack slammed the receiver down multiple times in frustration. Unfortunately, he hadn't realized that the long cord had managed to tangle its way under his legs and around his waist. In a fit of panic, he ripped the cord away from him, causing the phone to fly back off the hook and whack him in the face. He shrieked in pain just as Janet entered the room, wincing at the sight of the phone hitting the edge of his brow. She helped pull the tangled phone and cord off of him and set it gently back on the table before walking over to Jack to examine his tiny wound. He'd slumped back down on the bed and she bent his head down toward her and gently blew on the cut. He'd been pressing his eyes shut with his fingers and pulled them away to look back at her. She stared back into his eyes, the concern she'd had on her face all day still there.
"Are you okay, Jack?" she asked.
Jack didn't answer. He just looked back at her for what felt like an uncomfortably long time. Eventually he shook his head, not to indicate a 'no' but to bring himself back to this new reality that he was living in.
"Jack?" she asked again, still gazing up at him as she absentmindedly pulled a piece of cream puff out of his hair.
"I-I'm fine," he lied, looking away.
Janet nodded skeptically. "You've been acting awfully strange today."
"Yeah."
"You wanna talk about it?"
"I don't know. I don't think I'm drunk enough. I only drank half the spiked punch bowl," he said sarcastically, but his grimace turned upward into a smirk when he heard Janet chuckle.
"It wouldn't be a Stevens party if you didn't. Just so long as you stay away from their china cabinet."
He smiled again, remembering the reference. "We're still bringing that up, huh?"
"I don't think Jim will ever let you forget it," she said, patting his knee. She paused for a moment. "Listen, about Colleen..."
"Who?"
"Colleen? Jimmy's little sister? The one who hits on you every single Christmas?"
"Oh, that Colleen. Janet, look, I swear nothing happened. You saw, right? She came up to me and – "
Janet was laughing now. "Jack, Jack. Relax. It's okay. I know. You tried your best just like you always do." A scowl formed on Janet's face. "The nerve of that woman. She thinks ever since her divorce she can just lay claim to any other woman's husband like he's free real estate."
Jack was taken aback. "You're not bothered by it?"
"Oh, I'm bothered all right. You know I'd love to get my hands around that woman's neck." She paused and looked into Jack's eyes. "But then I remember how loyal you are and how you'd never do anything to hurt me. And I know how much you love me and always have, even before I was too silly to notice." Her eyes appeared to recollect something. "I can't believe how jealous I used to get when you were with another woman. To think that didn't make me figure it out sooner," she grinned.
"Figure what out?" he asked, but he realized as soon as the words left his mouth.
"Funny, Jack," she said, and gently ran a hand across his temple before kissing his cheek. "Come on, honey. Let's go back downstairs, huh?" she said, getting up and heading toward the door.
"Yeah I'll...I'll be right down," he said, taking in the moment.
"Okay," she said, turning back to look at him. "You sure you're okay?"
"I don't know yet. I think so," he said with a sad but genuine smile. She searched his eyes, then accepted his answer as him needing a moment to himself. She offered a flat smile before leaving the room.
He sat there, thinking for a moment, before he finally got up. He used the bathroom to collect himself (and to attempt to wipe away the punch stains from his uselessly hideous sweater), then headed back downstairs to find Janet once more surrounded by Terri and a group of other party guests. They all seemed to be captivated by some story she was telling. He stood at the end of the staircase and listened.
"Hey Jack?" he heard Colleen call from somewhere nearby. He continued to look at Janet as if he hadn't heard her. She may have called him a second time, but soon she and everybody else at the party faded into the background. All he could see was Janet and all he could hear was her voice. For some reason, knowing that she was his wife was doing something to him. With all barriers to her suddenly removed, and without, at least from his perspective, having had to put in any of the work to get there, he realized that there was absolutely no reason he needed to hide behind the mask he'd been hiding behind for over ten years. But by now it had become such a habit, he wasn't sure he knew how to take it off.
"So I said to Tina, yes of course I'll cover your class – on one condition. I said you have to attend one of my dance classes. It's been five years since we've been in business together, and you haven't attended one. And she said, 'Janet, I'd love to. There's just one problem. I have two left feet.' And I said, "That's not true, Tina. I've seen you dance before and I think you're all right."
Janet produced a playful, self-satisfied grin when the others laughed at her pun, and Jack couldn't help but smile in response from his perch on the stairs. He took in the information she'd provided in bits and pieces. "You teach dance classes?" he asked.
"Oh, don't pretend like you've forgotten just because you flunked out twice," Terri called back to him, producing more laughs from the group.
But Jack smiled despite the embarrassing information about himself. "You teach dance," he said, processing the information out loud, hoping for confirmation. "And you and Tina own the space together." He said it as a statement, even though it was a question.
Janet's brow was furrowed, but she smiled a hesitant nod. "Yes Jack,"
Janet had gotten to dance after all, even if it was on a smaller scale than she'd originally imagined. "I just think it's nice, that's all," Jack affirmed. "You followed your dream."
"Yeah, well...it's not Rockefeller Center but I enjoy it," she said to Jack and the group simultaneously.
"That's so great, Janet. That's really, really great," he said, growing excited for her. "I'm proud of you."
The expression on everyone within earshot's face, including Janet's, was a mixture of confusion and joyful approval at Jack's kind words.
"I know," she smiled back at him. "You only tell me all the time."
The house was quiet when they arrived home, with Jack's mother having put the kids to bed hours ago. Jack was thankful – he was still a little bit unnerved by Jamie's strange reaction to him earlier. Was that how she acted all the time? She couldn't possibly sense something was different...could she?
"Here you go," Janet said, handing Jack a purple and red striped leash.
"What?" he asked, interrupted from his thoughts.
"To take Chrissy out, silly. I'll go let your mom know we're home."
Jack just stared at the leash as Janet made to leave the room. "Wait. Janet don't leave me."
"Huh?" she asked, turning around at the exact moment the dog entered the room, jumping on Janet in an excited greeting. Janet ruffled the dog's face. "Oh, hello, you! Chrissy, go see daddy! Go see daddy, Chrissy!"
Jack walked cautiously toward the dog, but she backed away from him. "Maybe you'd better walk her. She seems to like you better than me..."
"What are you talking about? You're her favorite. I don't know why she's acting like this."
Jack awkwardly held the leash in his hand while he and the dog participated in what could only be described as a staring contest. Janet made a face at them.
"...alright then. I'll leave you two to it."
"Sure," Jack said, his eyes not leaving the dog. "And hey, Janet?"
"Yes, Jack?" Janet asked, frustrated after what was probably her third attempt to leave the foyer.
"Why is our dog named Chrissy?"
Janet's arms slumped and she rolled her eyes. "That would be because you were the one who thought it was funny when Jamie suggested it for the new puppy after Chrissy visited a couple years ago."
Jack continued to eye the dog, but he cocked his head toward Janet in response to the...interesting information.
"And I said no, absolutely not. And I named her Daisy. But you two decided to call her Chrissy as a joke behind my back and now it's the only name she responds to."
Jack finally broke his gaze from the dog, unable to hold back a laugh.
"And it's still not funny!" Janet protested.
"It's a little funny..."
"Go walk the dog, Jack," she ordered, finally taking the opening to leave Jack and Chrissy alone.
And after numerous attempts to get the dog to leave the house with him, which culminated in Jack physically pushing the dog's reluctant body out of the door, the walk actually turned out to be kind of pleasant. At the very least, Jack finally got his much needed alone time to process...everything. One thing he definitely could not accept was the fact that he'd lost his coveted job to Guy Frisco of all people. Had Janet mentioned the Bistro? Was he still dealing with that place?
"Oh, god, please tell me it's not just the Bistro," he'd found himself saying out loud. Chrissy had stared at him and he'd begged her to please poop so they could go home.
'Home,' he paused at the thought. This was his home now. He had to learn to get used to the idea.
But his thoughts continued to run when they did get home. This was the part of the night where he got into bed with his wife. His wife Janet. He found her asleep, having laid out his pajamas (matching red flannel) for him on the bed. He gazed at her, fast asleep (and, he noted, on the correct left side of the bed to his preferred right) and found himself unable to keep from smiling. Because years ago, he had longed for this. And maybe, just for tonight, he'd allow himself to embrace it. 'Besides' he thought, as he pulled on the pajamas and slipped into bed next to Janet, 'tomorrow I'll wake up, and this will all just be a dream.'
He turned on his side to face her, finding his breathing growing slower until it matched with hers. He reached out a hesitant hand toward her before pulling it back, unsure. 'I'll go to sleep,' he thought, as he began to doze off. "And in the morning, none of this will be real.'
