Chapter Text
Joyce reread the wedding invitation for the fourth time, trying to formulate an adequate enough white lie. She hasn’t seen Aunt Darlene’s side of the family in nearly a decade, though they’ve made phone calls and sent greeting cards periodically. It stung a little, wanting to go, but knowing better of it. The invitation itself is far too extravagant; an all-expenses-paid overnight stay in upstate Illinois on a picturesque rustic estate.
She wondered briefly if she could convince one of the boys to tag along as her Plus One– but the embarrassment and guilt at the concept set in quickly. It was just too humiliating to go alone as the lone divorcée in the Horowitz lineage. She would exhaust herself dodging all of the prying questions. Nope, can’t do it.
She took another pull on her cigarette before putting it out and started for the phone.
“Hello?” Melanie, her cousin, the Bride-to-Be. Joyce’s breath caught a little as she heard her.
“Mel, hey it’s me, it’s–”
“Joycie! Oh my gosh. Did you get the invite?!” Melanie’s voice went an octave higher as she spoke. “Oh my gosh, it feels so good hearing your voice. It’s been too long.” Melanie is ten years younger, but Joyce has always loved the girl like a sister. One of her favorite memories is teaching Melanie how to use Aunt Darlene’s sewing machine.
Melanie heavily relied on Joyce after Darlene’s suicide.
This is going to smart.
“Y-Yeah, I did. Congratulations. Rick is a great guy.” Joyce leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. “About the–”
“So, I was thinking. Since Dad’s got the whole place booked up for the week, what if you came a little early? Maybe a night earlier? You could be there for the rehearsal dinner.”
“Listen, Mel.” Joyce stammered, looking down at her slippers. “About that,” she sighed.
There was a sniffle on the other line. “Joyce. I can’t wait to see you. It means so much to have you there. Y’know, after Mom… I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
Shit.
“I can’t,” Joyce began. “I can’t go…”
“What?” The barb of hurt in Melanie’s voice was too much.
“I can’t go… A day early, I mean. I can’t go a day early. I’d– I’d have to ask my boyfriend, um,” Joyce was lightly hitting the back of her head against the wall. “He’s really busy with work. I-It’s an important job. Very important.”
“Oh!” Melanie sniffled again, beginning to chuckle. “God, Joycie, you scared me.” There was a sound of shuffling. “So, who’s the lucky guy? What’s he do? Can you ask him and get back to me? I’d love to see as much of you as I can, but I get it... I also need to know what you’d like for your dinner options.”
“He’s, uh, he’s tall.” Joyce grimaced at herself and mouthed an animated ‘Fuck.’
“Huh?”
“Steak entrées, we’ll both have the steak.” Joyce rolled her eyes, craning her neck at a sound outside. She saw Hopper’s Blazer pulling into park with Will and El jumping out. It was Wednesday, which meant he’d be bringing Will home for Joyce– a weekly favor that felt predestined at this moment.
“O-kay ,” Mel continued. “He’s tall and he likes steak. What does he do? What’s his name?”
“One sec, Mel, Will just got home,” Joyce interrupted and rested the receiver on her shoulder, turning the mouthpiece away. “Hey, sweetie.”
Will noticed the phone and waved at his mom before disappearing around the corner. El followed closely behind, mirroring Will’s wave. They have an arrangement that Will hands off copies of his homework assignments to assist in her homeschooling, but the girl loves to ask a million questions about the nuances of his school day.
Jim was in the doorway, pulling his hat off. He nodded and narrowed his eyes at the phone, a silent question of ‘Everything okay?’
Joyce’s heart skipped a beat– not just at the knowing tenderness of his concern, but at the positively certifiable decision she was about to make.
She pulled the phone back to her mouth. “Yeah, sorry, Mel. He’s a cop, actually. Chief of Police. His name is Jim.”
“Can we just go over this one more time, Joyce?” Hopper asked, taking another drag on his Camel. They were sitting across from each other at the small table in her kitchen.
“Hop, please… I totally screwed this up, I know. I just didn’t know what to do. I freaked out when she sounded upset. I can’t be put on the spot like–”
“So how long have we been dating?”
“What?”
“Joyce, I’m going to help you. I already told you this. But we need to be on the same page if I’m playing your boyfriend for a weekend. We need a story that matches. That way you can’t be put on the spot again.”
“Um, I– I dunno.” Joyce fumbled while putting out her cigarette. “A while? A year, maybe? We’ve known each other forever, of course.”
“High school friends reconnecting after their own divorces. Romantic,” he chuckled. “Do we live together?”
“No! No, Hopper.” She blushed, hoping he didn't notice.
“Yeah, that’s fine. Blended family would be a little harder to navigate in this house. Who asked who out?” He grinned.
“Might as well stick with the fact I dragged you into this mess. I asked you.”
“Oh, I like that. Close enough to reality so we won’t forget it. Good idea, Joyce.” He looked over his shoulder before leaning in. “How many times a week do we–”
“Hop!”
He settled back and scratched his beard while laughing. “Don’t worry. I have your back. We’ll have fun, okay?”
She nodded back at him, fussing at a loose button on her sleeve.
Yeah. Fun.