Thanksgiving arrived and Jackie had spent Thanksgiving at the Formans', as did the rest of the basement gang.
Kitty did not disappoint and presented them all with a perfectly roasted turkey, complete with an apple and walnut stuffing and a large bowl of homemade cranberry sauce. Jackie ate and was merry and was grateful that Sam had to work that night (bigger tips during the festive season or whatever), and everyone seemed in buoyant spirits, even Hyde, so other than the one or two snide comments in her direction, he had been quiet for the rest of the evening.
It was after dinner, and she had grown tired of the boisterous crowd and chatter. Having been more often alone than not in the past months, she found that she didn't thrive in large groups of people anymore, and had come to enjoy some quiet time by herself; much like she realized during her relationship with Steven that she didn't crave to be the center of attention all the time either. His attention alone had been more than enough for her.
She had gone outside where she found herself up on the hood of Eric's old Vista Cruiser with an ice-cold bottle of apple cider. Steven had been almost kind tonight, without Sam around and with the rest of the gang together, maybe it had brought back memories from the Thanksgivings of before when their gang had been whole and full, and everyone was content and happy. As it was, only Eric had been missing that night, as Kelso had brought Brooke and Betsy with him from Chicago. She had watched Steven joke around and trade insults with Kelso, and found that she couldn't keep her eyes away from him, despite a slight fuzz on his upper lip that he seemed determined to grow into some sort of a handlebar mustache.
She shuddered.
But she had watched him and as his blue eyes had lit up and he had laughed, and the slight dimple that she loved and used to kiss had appeared in his right cheek, she felt something inside her give, and her heart gave an almighty wrench. The crowd had gotten too much for her then, and as her vision started to mist slightly, she had excused herself and gone outside.
She looked down as her hand traced patterns on Eric's car, and she was appalled to find that they were spelling 'Steven' followed by a heart, and the start of a letter 'J' on the metal. She yanked her hand away and curled both of them around her drink, determined not to shed a single tear.
It was late and she should be making excuses to go, for she wasn't particularly fond of catching the last bus — those were usually filled with unsavory types, and she didn't feel in the mood to deal with a drunken loser or two. Fez would probably pull an all-nighter at the Forman house, as Kitty had generously invited Kelso and Brooke to Laurie's old bedroom, and had even provided a little cot for Betsy to sleep in.
As she prepared to go into the house, she heard the click-clack of impossibly high heels and realized that she hadn't been alone out here. A dark shape pushed itself off from the El Camino that was parked in the street and sauntered lazily to greet the newcomer.
Steven.
And Sam, from the shorts the woman was wearing in November temperatures. She saw them exchange a brief kiss, saw Sam smile in the lamplight, followed by a deeper kiss that had them both leaning against the Camino for support.
Jackie tore her eyes away and wondered if Steven waited for Sam like this every night: the loving husband welcoming his wife back home after a day at work. She took in a shuddering breath and this time, the tears she had been struggling to hold back did fall down her cheeks.
Hyde had noticed her go outside and just like how a needle would always point North on a compass, had followed her as usual. Oh, he had made sure that Jackie hadn't noticed of course, but he had leant against the Camino and observed her from the short distance, admiring the way her dark hair fell against her shoulder, all swept to one side of her neck.
She had been beautiful tonight, close to radiant even, with a slight sparkle to her eyes, which had been missing from them and from his life since the day he had let her walk out of it and invited Sam to take her place. Sam hadn't been around for dinner, and he hadn't been able to arm himself as effectively against Jackie, and had even slipped up and ladled an extra scoop of cranberry sauce on her plate because he remembered that she liked her turkey drenched in the stuff.
He remembered everything about her. And he was pissed that she had looked up at him, surprised, when she realized what he did and that he remembered. He had made a nasty comment after that though, when he registered her pleasure, but even his burn had lacked its usual spite.
He had noticed that she hadn't been around lately, for the last couple of months, or at least when he wasn't at home, for Kitty seemed to be seeing quite a bit of her. Kitty would talk about her as part of dinnertime conversation, to which Red would grunt in response to, and Hyde would pretend that he hadn't the least interest in the comings and goings of his ex-girlfriend.
Kitty had said that Jackie was doing fine, and was happy even. He had tried prying around for information on whether she was dating anyone, if whether a new man in her life had been the reason for her boost in spirits, but had heard no mention of anyone new. Kitty said that they talked about Forman a lot, and Hyde was just relieved that she wasn't seeing anyone.
He had been aggrieved that she didn't seem to be pining for him as much as he was for her (but to hear him admit that, even to himself, would be like pulling teeth) which made him meaner, more bitter and sent him in search of more beer.
When Sam had come click-clacking up the sidewalk in her stupid shoes, Hyde had gone to greet her. Something that he never did, and will never do again. He had kissed her, knowing that Jackie would see, and then decided to put in a bit more of a show with a deeper kiss. He did it all knowing that he was a bastard, a first class asshole, but he fully intended to screw Sam into oblivion tonight, just to forget the dark-haired beauty who wouldn't get out of his mind.
And if he had hurt Jackie with kissing Sam, then all the better, for it served her right for taking the sparkle out of his life. And somehow managing to find it again in her own.
And so Thanksgiving came and went, and Christmas soon followed.
It was a cold, but cheery and sunny day, and Jackie had elected to spend it alone this year. She had sent Eric a special box containing his Christmas present, and had put a lot of thought and effort, and many hours at the mall deciding on what to give him.
An emerald green cashmere scarf had caught her eye a couple of months back. She had been drawn to the color, perhaps because it reminded her of Eric, though she was ashamed to admit that she didn't really know the exact color of his eyes, as she had never really paid much attention to him before despite all the years that they had hung out together.
But the scarf she was eyeing was cashmere, and cashmere was one of the luxury items that she had to give up ever since she had fallen on harder times. And so she scrimped and saved for the first time in her life, and when she had had enough, she proudly splurged a good part of her salary on it for Eric.
She then wrapped it in tissue paper and carefully placed it in a huge Jackie Box: Eric's Christmas Special. She really hoped he liked her gift.
Eric fingered the scarf that Jackie had gotten him. It was incredibly soft, much like he imagined her skin to feel like. He placed it aside to take out the other items that comprised Jackie's gift to him.
A smile lit his face as he saw the miniature Christmas tree lying under the scarf. It wasn't a real tree, but it came with a note attached to it.
Just because you aren't here for Christmas doesn't mean that you don't get to have a tree. I'm sorry I couldn't send you a real tree, the US postal service insisted that I couldn't, and that I would be violating an international law. Jerks.
She had even hung up little ornaments for him. He put it in the corner of the room. His hut looked cheerier and more festive already.
He looked down and noticed that she had given him something else.
A tree topper.
It wasn't very big, the size of his palm, just the right size for his tree. But what truly touched him was that it was hand-made, and it was clear to him just whose hands had made this for him. A little crude perhaps, made from clay —and he was a little surprised that she would get her hands dirty to mould it for him— but the unmistakeable figure of Luke Skywalker holding a banner lay flat at the bottom of the box.
He picked it up to place it on top of his new Christmas tree when he read the words scratched into the banner that Luke was holding above his head.
Merry Christmas, Eric:
You're My Happy Place
Yours, Jackie
And he truly felt the spirit of Christmas touch him then.