He grew up in Italy. He moved here two years ago, because he always wondered what it was like. His parents are kind, nice people, but they disapproved of him leaving. His younger brother, Paolo, is twenty-three still lives in Italy, and he's trying to be a musician. His younger sister, Emanuelle, is eighteen, and is not very close to him. He works at a restaurant, currently, but he's working to get a better job.
In turn, I decided to tell him a few things about myself. I basically just told him about how I grew up as a spoiled brat until my dad went to prison. I told him about my mom's departure, and how I haven't seen her in over twenty years. And I told him about my old friends, like Eric and Donna, Michael, Hyde, Fez, and Maureen and her family.
He listened well. So did I. It's strange, though, because just minutes before, we were... doing /that/.
Then Molly comes inside. "Hello?" she calls before spotting Dario and I talking on the couch.
"Mom? You're here again?" she asks.
"Oh, wow, I see I'm welcome here," I say sarcastically.
"No, no, I don't mean that. I'm just surprised that you'd be here, waiting for me. How long have you been waiting?" she asks.
"About ten minutes," I lie, glancing quickly at Dario.
"Oh, okay." She throws her coat on the floor and joins us on the couch.
"So how'd it go?" Dario asks.
She shrugs. "I don't know. Either he has no emotion or he doesn't like me. We didn't go on a /date/, but we hung out at the coffee house for an hour or so."
I stand up. "Come here," I tell her as I walk into the bathroom. Turning on the light, I look under the sink and search for the curling iron and her makeup. I find it, so once she comes in the room, I make her sit.
Almost an hour later, she emerges from the bathroom looking almost like a different person. Molly never wears makeup, or does her hair. Now that I've taught her, step by step, how to get it perfect, she's gonna.
Dario compliments her, and I say thank you, because, as I explained to him, it was my doing.
"Come on, Molly," I say. "We're going shopping now."
She looks skeptical. "Okay..."
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Two hours later, we have plenty of new clothes bought for Molly. Now that it's almost eight o'clock, I decide to leave.
"I'll see you later, Molly," I say.
"Bye, Mom," she says.
I drive home, and it seems to take forever. I can't stop thinking. I can't believe I did that, especially right after I told Donna about the horrible things I have done.
I still don't know why I did it. Probably because it felt flattering, and it was nice to be attracted to somebody, because I'm no longer attracted to Paul. I haven't been attracted to him in years. But I definitely don't see a relationship going on with Dario. I don't even know if that's what he wants. I just hope he knows better than to tell Molly.
I pull into the driveway and walk into the house. Paul is standing in the kitchen; I can see him from the door. He's leaning on the counter.
"Yes?" I ask, noticing him looking at me.
"The kids are in bed," he says. "They wanted to do something for your birthday today, but you missed it."
I put my hand to my forehead. "Oh my God. I didn't even think about that."
"Well, obviously," Paul says.
"Shut up," I snap, then start thinking again. I ditched my two youngest children to give my oldest daughter a makeover and to have sex with a twenty-something year old guy? "I-Wow, I feel horrible," I say quietly.
"You should," Paul says.
I roll my eyes at him. "Why don't you just go to bed or something? I can't even stand being near you."
"Likewise," Paul mutters.
It's funny, but the time when Paul and I got along seems like forever ago. Thinking about it, I was never in love with Paul. I mean, I /loved/ him... but I was never /in love/ with him. Like with Corey... it was passionate and all that. We were crazy about each other. It just had to end for, well, obvious reasons. But Paul? I think I only married him because I felt safer that way. I knew he wouldn't hurt me like my previous boyfriends had, plus I knew I wanted more kids.
Those are not the right reasons to marry. Oh well. The divorce is going through, and hopefully this will all be over soon. Paul turned into the biggest jerk ever.
"Why don't you just go for a little bit?" I ask him... well, more like plead. "It'd be nice to have the house to myself for a night."
"If you're so intent on being away from me, why don't you go somewhere? I have no place to go," he adds.
I shrug. "Fine. I'll go out for an hour or so. I have to be home though because I have work in the morning."
"Whatever." Paul waves me off. "See ya."
I slam the door, then remember the kids are in bed. Quickly, before Paul can run out and yell at me, I get into my car again. I decide just to run up to the bar near my house. I call up my friend Tara from the salon, and she agrees to meet up with me there.
I'm driving to the bar, and traffic is surprisingly heavy for nine o'clock.
I'm stuck at a stoplight, and I notice the car next to me is obnoxiously blaring Led Zeppelin. I roll down my window, noticing that this guy's window is down, too, and go to yell, but I notice that a familiar face is in the car.
He stops tapping the steering wheel to the beat and glances over. Then he keeps squinting at me, to see where he knows me from. I'm doing the same.
"Pull over!" he yells, waving to the side. "Pull in that gas station!"
Eh, what the hell. Why not.
So, I pull into the gas station and park. The car parks next to me. The guy gets out, walking toward my car, so I get out, too.
"I know you from somewhere," the guy says.
"Yeah. Yeah, I can tell," I say. "You look really familiar. I'm Jackie."
"Ah, that's it." The guy nods. "It's me, Hyde."
"Ohmigod!" I laugh. "I can't believe I didn't know it was you. This is so weird, because I just saw Donna earlier today."
"Oh, really," he says. "Haven't seen her or Forman in ages."
"Yeah, so what are you doing around here?" I ask. "I didn't know that you lived in the area."
"I don't," he explains. "I'm supposed to be meeting somebody up at some bar. Date, sort of thing."
"So you never married," I conclude.
"Nope. I've had some pretty long relationships, though. Got out of one a few months ago. I have a son, too. He's fourteen. Name's Gage." Steven nods.
"Oh. Wow." I can't imagine Steven having a son. "So what bar are you going to?"
"That one up the street," he says. "Where you headed?"
"Same place, actually," I say. "I was meeting up with somebody I work with."
"Ah. Well, I think I'm gonna blow this date off. You wanna just hang out instead? We could catch up," he says.
"Sure, if you don't mind blowing off your date," I say.
"Nope. Let's go."
We get in our cars and drive to the bar.
After about a five minute drive, we arrive seperately and go in together.
Sitting at a back table, we try and catch up.
"I realized," I conclude, "you always were in the right state of mind. I mean, my life would be a lot less screwed up if I never married."
"What had I always told you, man," Steven says.
"Yeah." I nod. "So, tell me about your son."
"Alright," he agrees. "He's from a long time ago. His mother's a bitch, and she's married now. He's got a half-brother now, too. But Gage, he's a good kid. I see him about... once a week, maybe every two weeks sometimes. He looks nothing like me."
I nod patiently. "That's so strange. I can't imagine you ever having a kid."
"Yeah, well, y'know." He flips the subject to me. "So what's wrong? Problems in your marriage?"
"My second divorce," I say, emphasizing the word 'second.'
Steven raises his eyebrows. "You're kiddin' me."
I shake my head. "The first one was too hasty. And the second one wasn't out of love. I mean, I married the first guy, Corey because we had a daughter together, Molly. She's twenty now. And we divorced because... of complications," I say, not wanting to speak about abuse. "Then Paul... I just felt safer with him, and I guess I just married him. We have two kids, Asher and Spencer, who are thirteen and eleven."
"S'crazy," Steven says. "Who would have thought we all would grow up, huh?"
I nod. "And now I feel too old. If only we knew what we know now back then."
"Yeah," Steven agrees.
Steven and I continue talking for almost three hours, and then I see the time.
"Damnit!" I yell, spotting a clock on the wall. "It's like, one."
"Too late for you?" Steven asks.
"Yeah." I pause. "I mean, I have work in the morning."
"Oh, alright," Steven says.
"Yeah, so, um. I guess I'll..." I trail off, unsure of what to say. "Want to exchange numbers?"
"Uh, sure." We take out our phones and put in each other's numbers. Then, we leave, seperately again.
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Four days go by. I go to work, my kids go to school, and I catch up with Molly in between. Paul and I ignore each other. Donna calls me once, just to talk. Even Steven called me once, and we agreed to meet up again soon.
Then, one day rolls around where I have the day off of work. I'm relaxing around the house, doing some laundry (horrible, right?) when the phone rings.
I answer it, and it's Molly.
"Mom," she says frantically, and she sounds like she's crying.
"Yeah?" I ask. "What's wrong?"
"Can you... /please/ come over?" she asks me.
"Of course!" I say. "I'll be there in a little bit, okay?"
Quickly, I rush to her house to find out what's wrong.
Almost an hour later, I arrive, and go inside the building. Molly lets me in.
"What's wrong, Moll?" I ask her.
"Scott." She sniffles as we sit on the couch.
"Yeah, what about him?" I ask.
"We... I mean, I... we did this... big thing, and now he-" She stops.
"What do you mean?" I ask, although I have a slight idea. "Don't be afraid to tell me anything."
She sighs and puts her face in her hands. "Scott went on a date with me. I acted confident. The date lasted a long time, and I went home with him. We... had sex. It was my first time, ever. And I thought we were gonna have a relationship or something. And then a day passed, and he never called. So I went to the coffee house and I saw him flirting with this girl. And I walked up to him, and he just said 'hey'. And I said, 'you were just flirting with that girl'. And he just said 'yeah, what about it?'"
"Wow, what an ass," I say, listening to her story.
"Yeah, and then I said, 'well, what about two days ago?' And he says 'that happens all the time. I figured it did for you, too.' And he sounded confused. So maybe being confident isn't good, because it implies that you're a 'f*ck and run' type of person." She keeps crying. "This sounds so stupid, but I feel like my heart is breaking. I feel like I love him because I shared that with him, and now he's just ignoring it."
I try to comfort her. "If he's been like this all along -an asshole- then he's not worth it. I know it sucks hearing that, but you're gonna have to get over it. I'm sorry, honey."
Molly sighs. "I just can't believe how /stupid/ I am!"
"You're not stupid," I say calmly. "You're a girl. We do this; we overthink things. To put it easily... you're nice, and he's not. And you don't seem to relate. There are so many guys out there, Molly. So many of them could appreciate you for what you are. Don't make the mistakes that I did. Don't throw it away for just anybody, and don't replace love with comfort. It's not right."
"I guess not." She wipes her eyes. "I'm glad Dario isn't here," she says.
I tense up nervously. "How come?"
"He's been hearing me cry nonstop for the past day. Now he's at work," she explains.
"Oh. Okay," I say.
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On the way home, I stop at Eric and Donna's house. I explain to Donna about Molly's problem. She sympathizes. Then, I tell her about what Dario and I did.
"What?" she exclaims when I tell her. "Jackie, how are you so stupid?"
"That's not the point," I say defensively. "Well, it is, but you shouldn't tell me that! I feel bad enough as it is!"
Donna shrugs. "That's insane."
"What's insane?" Eric asks as he walks into the living room.
"Jackie hooked up with a twenty-seven year old guy that's living with her daughter," Donna explains.
"What?" Eric explains in the same tone as his wife. "Wait, is he, like, seeing your daughter?"
"No, they're roommates. My daughter is seven years younger than him," I say in an obvious tone.
"Yeah, well, you're... fourteen years older than him!" Eric points out, still shouting.
"Ugh." I put a hand through my hair. "What is wrong with me?"
"I always knew something was wrong with you. Something was off," Eric says. "But this is /terrible/!"
"Oh, shut up, Eric," Donna and I say in unison.
"So, did you guys know that Hyde has a son?" I ask them.
"Yeah," they say.
"And you didn't tell me?" I ask.
"No. We didn't think it mattered," Donna explains.
"Well, it doesn't. But still. That's big," I say defensively. "He wants us all to meet up one day, just like when we would hang out in Eric's basement."
Eric and Donna laugh, reminiscing. "Yeah, back then," Eric says, still smiling.
"That sounds good, though, meeting up with Hyde," Donna comments. "It'll be fun."
"Yeah," I agree.
So we continue talking about Hyde, and then we start talking about Kelso and Fez.
And before we know it, we're relapsing into flashbacks, straight from the '70s, but minus the pot.