Author Note: Can anyone honestly say they haven't had a "crush" on someone that is totally wrong for them? Can anyone say they haven't dreamt about "what if"….this is Eric Forman's what if….
Chapter 01 - Hello
Eric
Eric clicked off the television remote. The house was oddly silent save for the wind blowing branches against the windows. Scratch. Scratch. Scratch. Another autumn chore he had forgotten to take care of. He rubbed his chin and sighed before Donna's nagging voice filled his head. "Eric, if you don't get those limbs cut back, one of them is going to break a window. We can't afford to replace glass on our budget." Her subtle little way of reminding him that his civil service job wasn't bringing home the bucks they had hoped for.
Eric could argue that Donna's aging celebrity as "Hot Donna" was tired and old and tired. Did he say tired? These days, the audience was looking for comic duos to deliver funny lines with the music. Did the sound of sizzling bacon have the same effect on the radio community as it did back in 79? Nope. It was tired also.
Maybe it was Eric Forman that was tired?
Nah, he was just exhausted.
Eric pushed up and out of his Barcalounger heading towards the front door. Surely the mail had been delivered by now and he was not disappointed. The horizontal slot in the center for the door had an envelope hanging by its corner while the rest of the mail lay haphazard on the carpeted floor. He scooped up the colored envelopes and assorted bills and carried the mail to the kitchen table. Oh, Saturdays were such fun!
Not really, but what else did he have to look forward to? Eric sat down on the fat red cushioned seat of the kitchen dinette set – a knockoff of the 1950's Coca-Cola chrome table – Donna loved the white table top and red chairs. Eric spread the mail into three piles: bills, Donna's crap and miscellaneous. One larger letter caught his eye. Not because the puke green envelope looked like a sad avocado, but rather because the return address was from Point Place. He pulled that letter aside as he quickly sorted through the bills.
After mentally spending his next paycheck on all the bills, Eric turned his attention to THE letter. It was addressed to him specifically and he was intrigued. Sliding his finger under the flap, Eric pulled the card from the envelope.
It was a yellow background with an announcement:
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PPHS
Point Place High School
Class of 1979
10 year reunion celebration…..
we want you there!
October 20 & 21
Event: 10-20-89 Homecoming Game
Point Place Stadium "Welcome Tent" and designated seating area
Event: 10-21-89 Evening Celebration at the World Famous Point Place Country Club
Door prizes, slide show and class picture included.
Appetizers and soda provided.
BYOB
$20 per person
RSVP by October 1, 1989
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"Huh." Eric muttered and sat back in his chair. Had it really been ten years since graduation? So much of his life was a blur that he rarely thought about the old high school. Graduation was when Dad had his heart attack. Graduation was when he and Donna were going to get married and go off to college together. Graduation was when his sister and Fez got married.
Graduation was so long ago.
What had become of the old gang?
Kelso
Michael Kelso licked the sweet sugar coating from the tips of his fingers and silently thanked Vernon Rudolph for creating the delicious confection called a Krispy Kreme donut. With his clean left hand, he popped the button on the top of his Dockers to ease the pressure against his stomach. Being 65 pounds overweight was hard on a guy!
Kelso looked around the donut shop and smiled at the coffee girl and reached for the coffee cooling in his cup. Oh, the life of a school crossing guard, he mused. The clock on the wall indicated he still had 15 minutes to get to the corner of Grand and 5th Avenue to escort the kiddies who were going home for lunch. Smiling, he pulled on his yellow vest that was required by the State of Wisconsin, and grabbed his "STOP" paddle from the bench. Time to get back to the corner.
As he adjusted the waist band of his elastic backed pants, Kelso could feel the sharp corners of the Point Place High School reunion invitation. What would his old friends think about him now? Sure, his man pretty face was really just teenage glamor but his father's genes; Michael Kelso was handed down the cursed trait of Kelso family patterned baldness at the age of 25.
Food was a great source of comfort now.
Donna
"Hey Pinciotti!" Producer McAllister Garvins growled from the doorway, "PSA meeting in ten minutes – don't be late."
Donna looked across her desk at messy co-worker Cliff. She rolled her eyes and sighed softly. Cliff picked up his Rubik's cube and grinned replying in a low voice, "Mick sure has it out for you this week. Tell me again what you said to his wife?"
Donna glared, "Shut up. I don't want to discuss it again."
Cliff laughed and waved goodbye as Donna Forman pushed away from her desk. Yesterday's Hot Donna was today's WPPR's radio Public Service Announcement jockey.
Donna walked slowly towards the radio station conference room. Who was she kidding? Radio work had become so menial. Cable television was where the jobs were. Cable TV was where the money was. So now, in 1989, here was Donna Marie Pinciotti-Forman conducting PSA's for "Cocaine. It can cost you your brain!" or her other least favorite, "Friends don't let friends drive drunk." Hell, all the anti-everything movement of the 80's dimmed her hope for empowerment. She was stuck in a ten year marriage with no kids and no PTA meetings chair.
Donna was half as successful as she envisioned her future self. Vanity aside, Donna's appearance was becoming more Bob Pinciotti than Midge. Life was a drag – her husband was a drag. Smiling, Donna opened her leather Day Planner and touched the pale green envelope of the invitation to the High School reunion.
At least this was something new in her ho-hum existence!
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Hyde
"Yeah I got one." Steven Hyde tossed the invite onto the low coffee table in the back room of Grooves and passed the small lit roach to Eric. "I don't care if I go or not."
Kelso leaned over and reached for the can of bean dip and the bag of chips. He chewed loudly and spewed a couple as he replied, "I would go….but …hefty. I mean, you know, people aren't gonna recognize me."
Eric snorted, "I'm sure you don't recognize yourself."
Kelso tugged his gray Polo shirt over his exposed belly. "Well, I mean the face is still there but….damn, I have my dad's hair!" Just to reassure himself that there was actually some hair still on his head, Kelso smoothed the longer locks into a comb over. He smiled confidently.
Hyde snickered, "Dude….just accept it. Going bald before thirty isn't exactly a crime….. but….eating all those donuts will definitely kill you."
Eric smiled, "You are what you eat…and all you need is some cherry filling…" He passed the roach to Kelso who just laughed, "Cherry…that's good stuff. I'll have to see if Fez wants to go to Dairy Queen." Kelso inhaled and smiled. Munchies were always so much better after a good smoke…especially in Grooves 1989's makeshift version of the old Forman basement.
Kelso burped, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and asked the most important question. "So are you guys going?"
Eric shrugged and replied, "I don't think the wifey would be that enthused about Point Place High doing anything remotely entertaining…if you'll remember the last party we went to there…." But it wasn't being held anywhere near the auditorium.
Kelso smiled broadly, "I do and it was great. I looked great." He turned towards Hyde, "Hey man, can you front me the admission? And oh yeah, what does BYOB mean?"
Hyde gave Eric one of those Seriously? expressions and answered the question, "Uh….no and it means bring your own….."
Eric grinned and finished the sentence. "Bowling ball. Bring your own bowling ball."
Hyde's shoulders shook with quiet laughter. "Yeah and make sure your bowling ball is the best looking one…you want to win the prize don't you?"
Kelso's brows furrowed, "How do you make a bowling ball nice looking….I mean it's a ball with holes in it….ah….I see where you're going with this….I can make a face with the eye holes."
Eric didn't think that Kelso would take this as seriously as he was and frankly, he didn't want his friend taxing his brain like that. "Dude….just put a dress on it." The idea of Michael Kelso bringing a ten pound ball as a date to the reunion….well, he had to see that. "Hey man, I'll pay your pay."
Hyde shrugged, "All I'm saying is somebody better bring me back a picture."
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"You're going? Seriously?" Donna couldn't believe her husband was even remotely curious about the high school they tried so hard to forget. That last senior year was just a disaster. Of course Donna was happy to be invited but there was no way that she was setting foot back with those losers.
Eric set two plates on the kitchen dinette. "I'm going." He answered simply. "I'm going and I'm paying for Kelso."
Donna chuckled and then burst out laughing, "Kelso? No one is going to recognize him." She set the hot TV dinners on the table and removed the foil top from both.
"He could always go on a diet – it's possible he could lose ten or twenty pounds in a month." Eric tried to defend his friend as he scooped the Hungry-Man dinner contents onto his plate. Hot chocolate pudding…..yum.
Donna ran her fingers through her strawberry blonde hair and tossed the locks over her shoulder. "Yeah and Kelso could have a heart attack tomorrow and you wouldn't be out the twenty bucks." She flipped the dinner upside on her plate and sat down. She looked across the table, "Eric…you don't have anything to prove by going."
His brows knitted together, "What makes you think I have something to prove?"
She waved her a hand around their tiny house, "Look at us. Look at how we live. We had big dreams and a bright future and look at us. We have nothing…."
Eric sighed. While he agreed that maybe they didn't have the dream home like his parents and maybe they didn't have children…and maybe they didn't have the best jobs…did that really mean there was no bright future still ahead? He looked at Donna's face with the tiny crow's feet forming around her eyes and the harsh laugh lines that grooved her mouth. Not even 29 and she was acting like her life was over. "Donna….I have hope. It's not always going to be like this."
Donna closed her eyes. She waited a beat before speaking and when she did it was in a low calm and solemn tone. "Are you going to sign the papers?"
Eric knew the divorce papers were tucked in the dishtowel drawer but never bothered to look at them. He didn't believe in breaking his promise to love, honor and obey, although lately all he had been doing was obeying. There was hope – Princess Leia told Obi-wan, "…you're my only hope." And the galaxy was saved. Eric Forman believed his marriage could be saved too.
If it wasn't too late!
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The Pinciotti-Forman House
All of ten pounds slimmer and squeezed into a nice pair of Dockers, Michael Kelso actually looked like an overstuffed sausage. Those weeks of starving himself only shaved 10 of the 40 pounds he wanted to lose. What if Pam Macy was still a babe? What if he couldn't get his chubby arms around her? That would be a crime. Still though, when he looked in the mirror, Michael saw only his younger self - the handsome, self-assured 19 year old that got all the girls with just his looks – and of course that soft brown hair.
Eric was shrugging on his sports jacket when Donna walked into the bedroom. "I'm pulling the night shift again…" She stopped short when she saw how nice Eric looked dressed up. He always looked great when he put his mind on what he wore. Then he looked up at her with those green eyes.
"Another night shift Donna?" his expression wore a question. "Don't they have interns that can work nights? I mean you've been there long enough."
Donna nodded but didn't want to admit that she requested the night shift. Mostly so she could avoid evening discussions (like this one) and it was just easier being home when her husband was at work. She sighed, "Well, we do have interns, but you know, someone has to train them. Be sure to listen at 11:00 and I'll play a block of vintage Steve Miller for you."
Eric smiled and wiped an imaginary smudge from his shoe. "How's Kelso coming along?"
Donna put her hands on her hips, "Who in the hell told him to dress up a bowling ball? I mean it's in a dress and has a wig."
Eric laughed, "It's a prank. We were in Grooves…."
She held up a hand, "Never mind. I'm late as it is. Just lock up when you leave." Eric stood up to give her a good bye kiss but got air instead. He sighed, "All righty then…see you tomorrow."
She nodded and dismissed him with a wave.
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Kelso glared at Eric. "Bowling ball? Really? Bring your own bowling ball? It was BEER Eric. B-E-E-R. Now Pam Macy thinks I'm an idiot."
Eric grinned and slung an arm over his friend's shoulders, "Man…you were the hit of the reunion! The bowling ball was way better than a six pack and I think a couple of people wanted to dance with your ball."
Kelso unbuttoned the top of his Dockers and leaned against the hood of Eric's sedan. "Yeah….it is funny when you think about how many people wanted to play with my balls…I mean ball. Did you get a look at Linda Drake? Who hit her with the uggo stick? I mean I can always lose weight, but you can't undo ugly like that!"
Eric leaned against the hood of his car and looked at the class of Senior's and their dates/spouses leaving for their automobiles. It was odd that while they were celebrating ten years since graduation, there was hushed subversive conversation occurring about a junior alumnus that permeated the festivities. Jackie Burkhart. Had anyone in Point Place seen her?
Eric figured that it would have been Fez or Kelso who would have stayed in contact but Kelso looked just as puzzled. When asked why the captain of the football team didn't attend with the head cheerleader, Michael Kelso just shrugged and replied, "She didn't ask me."
Once a Kelso – always a Kelso.
All in all, the reunion was pleasant. There was lots of food and it was cool to look at the old yearbook and see how his class had changed throughout the years. There were a few questions about why Donna couldn't attend but actually, not that many people cared. Eric was spared the embarrassment about explaining how his wife would rather be at work than at a public function with her husband.
And he was babysitting Kelso.
How could that not be a bad evening?
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The Pinciotti-Forman House
Eric showered and put on a pot of coffee. It was a Saturday night and there was still some good television to watch. Donna wouldn't be home for hours and he could sleep in. His flannel pajama bottoms were soft and there was his Barcalounger - his little piece of luxury in this small house. Eric made a plate of toast and carried the coffee in setting it on the low table beside his chair.
Remote control in hand, he was ready for Saturday Night Live to begin. Dan Ackroyd was hosting and this promised to be a funny night. Eric Forman was ready for something different. He enjoyed the opening monologue and laughed with the opening cast skit until he realized that someone was knocking at the door. Oh please don't be Donna, was the first thing his brain spewed.
He opened the door only to find two pieces of expensive luggage and a drop dead gorgeous Jackie Burkhart.
Jackie looked at the older mature Eric Forman and thought, "This was a mistake." He definitely did not look glad to see her. He kept staring!
"Um….Hello?" She interrupted the silence.
Eric shook his head as if that would get rid of the image in front of him, but no, she was still there. He cleared his throat and replied, "Hello. What are you doing in Point Place?"
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