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Part Three
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Romance was experienced in short, sweet moments in the apartment, in between work and Veronica and cooking and Betsy play dates and 'Brooke incidents,' which was the polite name that Jackie had dubbed for when her friend came down with a particular nasty case of pregnancy hormones and kicked Kelso out of the house. He'd come to the apartment, play with Veronica and eat dinner, and before Carson came on, Brooke was calling in tears, saying that it was too lonely and she was so sorry and maybe could you pick up a Big Mac on your way home?
They'd come to a sort of unspoken agreement on the living arrangements; Eric didn't have an apartment of his own, yet he kept some stuff in Kelso's basement as a kind of safety net, somewhere that they both knew they could fall back on in case something went wrong, in case they needed space. It didn't get used much.
They fell into a kind of blissful routine, thankfully Jackie worked nights mostly, so she was there during the day to watch Veronica while Eric was teaching classes, and vice versa, and they tried their hardest to grab time to be alone in between. This was harder than they thought it would be, but thankfully they'd both become very accustomed to shower sex in the mornings.
Sometimes Jackie had to pinch herself into believing that it was real. Eric had been this unattainable 'what if' ever since before Veronica was born. She'd struck up this strange long distance friendship with him accidentally, and just kind of fell into the habit of talking to him over the years, and he'd always been the shiny fantasy in the back of her head that she so desperately wished for, but realistically thought she never could have.
She'd watched Eric and Donna for years, together, apart, happy or not, but regardless of the current state of their relationship, they'd always loved each other, that much was forever true. She used to sit in the basement and watch Eric watch Donna sometimes. In the beginning, he looked at her with a mixture of disbelief and awe. Later, he looked at her like she was the answer to all his questions, which she probably was. After a few breakups, he no longer looked at her like the sun set and rose to her face, but rather with a kind of comfortable affection and unwavering dedication that had weathered so many storms.
She longed so much for that, just one person in her life who she could count on no matter what. Her parents were never like that for her, and if she wanted to self-analyze she'd realize that they were the root to a lot of her insecure clingy problems. She wished for it so badly that some nights she thought she'd die from the pain of not having it, and it was just so unfair. What did she do wrong? What was so hideous, so disgusting, so wrong with her that she had all these things she wanted, these looks and money and popularity, but she couldn't for the life of her find the one thing she needed, which was just one fucking person out of billions who would back her up and make her feel less alone.
She looked at Eric looking at Donna like he was her back up, and he was and she was so jealous sometimes. What was so good about Donna that she got to have the one thing that Jackie yearned for more than anything else? I mean, it's not like Donna was evil or anything, she was a good friend and a good person (something Jackie grudgingly admitted) but it wasn't like she was Mother Theresa or anything. Plus, look at what she already had—two loving parents, albeit fighting ones, talent, beauty, kindness... and Eric, who loved her and always watched her in the basement.
Jackie built their relationship up in her mind as the ideal, the place to aspire to, and she tried so hard to get there with both Kelso and Hyde. Granted, she was a little misguided in her attempts with Michael, but she was barely a teenager then, cut her a little slack. Steven Hyde, though, Hyde was her salvation and her condemnation. She'd given parts of herself away willingly, offered them up on silver platters sprinkled with hope and affection, and she'd stood by while he knocked the platters out of her hands with his sarcastic one liners and nurses and strippers, and she cried as she watched those parts of her heart fade away into red smoke in front of her eyes.
Jackie knew she'd never forget the abject humiliation of standing in that record store that morning after. She'd dressed up so nicely, wearing that skirt she knew he loved to look at her legs in, and sprayed that body spray he liked on her neck and wrists. She'd just flounced in there, happy and daring to hope that something was going right for once and she'd stopped dead in her tracks when the sight of Steven—her Steven, who'd given her his Led Zeppelin t-shirt and shaved his beard and followed her to Chicago—Steven Hyde, with his arms wrapped around the stripper he'd left her for.
But shining through that overtly painful memory was the memory of Eric's voice over the phone line, calm and steady and comforting. She could recall only scraps of sentences from that call, yet she knew that that moment was the turning point, from when Eric ceased to be an idealistic, detached dream to an actual possibility.
He didn't know how she'd looked forward to his calls, how she soaked in every word he uttered of his life. She'd sit on the phone for hours with him, especially late in her pregnancy, hanging on his every word, picturing the villages he described and the children he talked about. Seeing him in her mind's eye, working with the people, spreading knowledge and teaching and making lives better. Pictured him in his apartment, on the phone with her, holding the pictures that she'd sent him in her slightly desperate attempt to keep herself entrenched in his life.
He did know that she realized how real and deep her feelings were right around Veronica's first birthday, when he'd sent her a pendant from Nigeria, black wood with a blue stone set in the middle. It was a harmless little trinket, barely worth the mail fare, but he said it made him think of her when he was passing through this small town, and bought it on a whim. She'd held the piece of jewelry in her small hand, running her fingers around and over it and wrapping it around her neck and her ankle and her wrist, feeling the contours and shape and the feel of it on her bare skin. She'd thought of the fact that Eric had been the last person to touch this before she did. The thought was innocently erotic, in its own way, and maybe it was because she hadn't had sex in two years at that point, or maybe it was because it was another turning point for her, but the thought of Eric's hands and her hands on this small necklace had sent her running for a cold shower. That was strange in itself, but the fact that the feeling the necklace had given her had multiplied upon hearing his voice during his next call gave her significant pause.
She told him that on one of his first nights back, and he laughed. "You're so strange," he said, almost in wonder, definitely in amusement. Then he called her a nympho and she called him a pervert because she knew that he liked it, to which he had no justifiable argument for. Then he'd pulled her by her waist over to settle on top of him and pressed up against her right there and asked her where the necklace was now and she'd stopped thinking coherently around that point.
At any rate, she was happy now, the kind of happy that she didn't know she was capable of. It was a combination of comfort and contentment and affection, and many times she'd caught herself in a so clichéd, stunningly normal scene with Eric and Veronica, washing dishes or cleaning or coloring with Veronica while Eric graded papers across from her, and it just felt so right that Jackie dared to think the word 'family.'
Veronica and Eric got on amazingly, Jackie was relieved to find. Veronica completely idolized him, partly from the stories that Jackie used to tell her, but mostly from his raw charm that even five years in a foreign, harsh country hadn't managed to dull.
And of course Eric loved her right back, just like he loved every child he came into contact with. Jackie never thought of herself as a sentimental person—romantic, maybe—but when it came down to choosing between performing a random act of kindness for a stranger and, say, shopping? Well, Jackie had always without a doubt headed for her credit card.
But watching Eric teach was different. He had a gift for it, that was apparent, and it was almost hypnotizing for her to see. He was so natural, so comfortable with every kid he came into contact with. It was like he had an instant connection with every single student, and within a few weeks of contact, Eric would root out that hidden stunt or problem and release it. It was compelling to watch, and no wonder she loved to visit him at work.
He had a calling, and sometimes, Jackie was ashamed to admit, she was jealous of it. He just fit right in to teaching, it didn't matter where he was or whom he was with, as long as he had to ability to pass knowledge on he was happy, while Jackie was still searching for something that called out to her like that. Singing at the club was all well and good, but after the initial shiny excitement effect wore off, she started cringing at the posters of herself on bulletin boards advertising the club, and on those nights when she did three shows in a row and didn't get home until dawn she started resenting her job and yearning to be at home with Eric and Veronica.
She'd thought of maybe trying to go back into news casting, but her horrendous experience with Christine St. George haunted her. She'd told all this to Eric, and he'd said that if she hated the job so much than she should quit, and she was sorely tempted. But even with the added help of Eric's small income, she still was struggling to make ends meet, what with the trust fund having been turned into a 'college fund' on Red's advice. No daughter of hers was going to go through this, she vowed. The feeling that you didn't know what to do with your life, where to go, or even who you are was the worst that Jackie had ever felt, aside maybe from the various experiences of heartbreak in her personal life. She promised herself that Veronica was going to be better than she was, than all of them were.
So she cut down on nights at the club and offered to balance the books every month, a job that paid more but was avoided among the staff due to the owner's tendency to just stick everything in a Heineken box and figure that he'd get to it later.
So while things might not be perfect like she'd daydreamed, they were a hell of a lot better than they ever had been in the past, and Jackie was grateful for it. She felt like she was walking a tightrope a lot of the time, one wrong step and it was all fall to the ground, but there were moments when she never doubted that it'd be worth it, and that was all she'd ever really needed.
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There was still the issue of Donna that neither of them had really dealt with. Not that she was really an 'issue,' per say, just that when they'd gone up to visit Fez in Kelso's new van (even better than his last two, he'd informed them excitedly) there were framed pictures of Donna and Randy on Fez's 'celebrity wall' in his shop. The photo looked recent to Jackie—Donna was definitely in eighties style clothing and her hair was red again. She asked him when it was taken and he told her a few weeks ago and gave her Donna's phone number while glancing over at Eric nervously, as if he was afraid that he was doing something wrong.
Jackie sat on the number for a while, meaning to tell Eric but really not, feeling like this might be the wrong step she'd been thinking about, whichever way she went. In the end, she left it on the bathroom sink for him to find one morning before he left for work, and refrained from running back and flushing it down the toilet. When she got back from the club he was waiting up for her, and he handed her the phone and told her it was her decision.
"That's sweet," she said. "But no, it's not."
He smiled and tugged her down on the couch with him as he dialed, and she tucked her face into his neck when she answered.
She listened as they exchanged awkward pleasantries, and listened as he told her some brief stories about Africa. When the word 'Randy' came up, she felt him stiffen slightly, and so she got up and went into Veronica's room to give him some privacy.
She distracted herself by playing blocks with the little girl so she wouldn't think about what they were talking about or picture what their wedding would have been like if Eric had stuck around.
It was a long time, at least twenty minutes, before he came back in and collapsed on the floor next to her. He looked tired and when he smiled at Veronica, it fell a little flat.
"How'd it go?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Better than it could have gone," he replied. "I told her about this." He gestured around the room vaguely, referring to whatever life they were leading together now, defined or not, Jackie assumed.
"What'd she say?"
"Nothing much. She thanked me for telling her, and then she said she had to go."
Jackie sighed. She and Donna had drifted apart that last year in Point Place, and though Jackie would never tell her this, she resented her friend for not being there for her more often, for being insensitive with her companionship with Sam, for not standing up for her, for a lot of things that maybe weren't completely Donna's fault, but weren't completely not her fault either. She'd hoped someday to maybe reconcile or reconnect, but as of now she didn't see that happening.
He slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in to rest on his chest, and she relaxed in to him, like always. It still mystified her how easy it was to relax when in his presence. She felt him kiss her forehead and her anxieties slip away. They spent the rest of the night building a block castle with Veronica.
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It turned out that Kitty's invitation for Jackie to come visit anytime was actually for real, so two months before Veronica was scheduled to start school they received an envelope in the mail with three plane tickets and a note from Red telling them to get their asses to Florida because plane rides were expensive.
So they locked the apartment and dropped the key off with Brooke and boarded with three suitcases and a backpack of Veronica's books and toys. Eric spent the flight telling Veronica stories about the various planes, trains and automobiles that'd he'd traveled on in Africa, and it was in the middle of the 'elephant taxi in Pretoria' story that she fell asleep.
The Forman condo was located in a small neighborhood outside Orlando, away from the bustle of the city, yet not too close to the carelessness of the shoreline. Eric carried a sleeping Veronica up to the front stoop while Jackie balanced the essentials of the luggage and both nearly dropped their burdens when the door flew open by the force of Kitty.
She fussed over the slumbering girl, instructing Eric to set her down on the couch in the living room while yelling at Red to come in and help with the bags. As soon as Jackie had set them down she was engulfed in Kitty's arms, and for once Jackie relished in the feeling. It was like coming home, in a way, she'd practically grown up with these people, but this mother's hug felt slightly misplaced and empty in the way that one hugs someone who does not completely belong to them.
When Kitty finally got a hold of Eric he was trapped within her grip for a good fifteen minutes, at least until Red came in from the garage. He rolled his eyes and hugged her back, motioning for help to Jackie, but she just giggled and shook her head. Red finally tore her off of him and when she finally pulled back he saw that she was hiding tears, something that surprised him. Kitty had never kept her emotions secret before.
The three sat down to dinner in the living room and talked about usual things. Eric talked about Africa and Jackie was amazed that he could meet six different people and still have stories about his time away that she'd never heard before.
Later, after Kitty led Jackie into the kitchen, asking questions that made her (of all people) blush, Red and Eric settled down in the den. They sipped beer and avoided talking about heavy things until there were at least four empty cans on the coffee table, which was when Red sighed and looked over at Eric with his piercing 'are you being a dumb ass yet or not?' look.
He motioned to Veronica who was still out like a light, her legs on Eric's lap. "She's Steven's kid, Eric."
"Yeah."
Red was silent for a long time. "Steven... is still in Las Vegas."
"Yeah." It was a statement, rather than a question, but Eric answered anyway.
Red looked between him and Veronica a few times, than shook his head disgustedly and sipped his beer. "I hope you know what you're doing," he said with a sneer. "...dumb ass."
Eric grinned and smoothed Veronica's hair down affectionately. It was as good of an approval as he was gonna get.
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Of course being that Veronica slept all through dinner meant that she was up all night, so about three am found all three of them in the backyard of the Forman home. Jackie had dug out a mason jar from the kitchen and given it to Veronica, who had squealed in delight and immediately started chasing after the various fireflies buzzing around in the backyard. Eric settled down on one of the lawn chairs and Jackie sat on his lap, snuggling into his jacket against the cool night air.
"So did you get the sex talk or the 'what the hell are you doing with your life' talk?" she asked after a while.
"'What the hell are you doing with your life' talk," he replied. "But he's getting old, so at least there weren't any feet involved." Jackie giggled a little. "Did you get the sex talk?"
She rolled her eyes. "Oh my God, Eric." She pulled back a little, a disgusted look on her face. "She gave me condoms."
He burst out laughing. "I love my mommy," he said playfully.
"Ew." Her nose wrinkled adorably and he leaned forward and kissed it. "Charmer."
They bantered back and forth for a bit before Jackie sighed and leaned her forehead against his temple. "Do you think we're making a mistake?" she asked.
He was silent, watching Veronica race around, her dark hair blending into the inky blackness of the night, and feeling Jackie's warmth seeping through her clothes. He shrugged a little. "We might be," he said. "Right now I don't really care, though."
Jackie smiled and couldn't help but agree.
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Thank you all for your kind reviews. This doesn't feel finished to me, so there'll probably be another chapter and/or epilogue. I really have no idea, since I'm just going with the flow.
What, you thought I had a plan for this? Ha. Think again.