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Winter 1985/86
Jonathan Byers
“Look who I found at the airport!” Joyce beamed as she stood in the open doorway, Jonathan at her side. Will and El leapt up from where they were sitting, running over to give him a hug.
“Hey, kid. How’s college been treating ya?” Hopper asked, clasping Jonathan’s shoulder.
“Alright, I guess. Classes are fine.”
Joyce leaned into Hopper, whispering. He nodded. “Well good. I’m glad. If you need anything, let us know.”
Jonathan knew exactly what his mom had whispered to Hopper. He and Nancy broke up a month and a half prior. She was under the impression that his moroseness had to do with that, which was a good excuse, honestly. He still loved and mourned over Nancy, but something much bigger occupied his thoughts. Something he hadn’t told anyone, yet.
“So how’s high school?” Jonathan asked Will, deflecting the attention from himself. “I wanna hear all about it.”
“I have Mr. Pembry for algebra, and his quizzes are killer,” Will started.
“Yeah, I never liked him,” Jonathan agreed, following Will into his bedroom. He sat on the bed as Will continued to talk about classes, friends, and the kids who still picked on him, though not quite like it’d been in middle school. Jonathan tried to listen. He really did. But he had too much on his mind to give Will his undivided attention.
Will stopped talking. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just a little tired.”
“I heard you and Nancy broke up.”
“Yeah, we did.”
“Is that why you’re acting weird?” Will asked.
“I’m not acting weird. But yeah, I guess. Hey, where am I sleeping in here?”
“Mom’s putting an air mattress down.”
Jonathan stood and began flipping through Will’s records. “You collect records now?”
“Yeah, I mean, it’s kinda cool. Hopper suggested it. He even let me have a few of his. I really like this one.” Will pulled out Johnny Cash’s I Walk the Line, sliding the record out of the jacket and putting it on.
Jonathan shrugged. “I thought you were into punk?”
“I am. I’m allowed to like more than one type of music, you know.”
“I know. So, how do you feel about having Hopper here, anyway? I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and I just worry Mom is moving too fast. He doesn’t have the best reputation.”
Will lay back on his bed, grabbing a slinky, absentmindedly guiding it back and forth between his hands. “I dunno. They are kinda gross sometimes. Kissing and cuddling on the couch and giving each other weird googley eyes. But other than that, I like that Hopper’s around. I like that El’s around, too. They both make Mom happier, and I like seeing Mom happy.”
“I just don’t know if I completely trust him.”
“He saved my life, remember? Can’t ask for a better one than that.”
“Mom saved your life.”
“Mom and Hopper. Didn’t you know he gave me CPR?” Will asked.
“I know. I’m just not sure he’s going to stick around. Not after—”
“There you boys are!” Joyce interrupted them. “I was wondering where you got off to. We’re gonna bake some Christmas cookies!”
Joyce’s family had passed down a holiday tradition of Christmas cookie baking. Over the years, they had amassed several different recipes. She spent many of her Christmases baking with her grandmother, a welcome distraction from her father’s drunkenness. Subsequently, the tradition became a diversion Joyce could use with her boys when Lonnie was M.I.A.
As Joyce rolled out the dough, the group gathered around the kitchen table, armed with cookie cutters.
“Why’re you rolling it so thin?” Hopper asked Joyce.
“It’s how we Byers do it. Thin and crispy, no frosting.”
“What the hell? No frosting? That’s insane. My mom always used to make them thick and with as much frosting as we could pile on top.”
See? Jonathan gave Will a look.
“But I’d rather eat garbage cookies with you than a thousand delicious cookies by myself.” Hopper wrapped his arms around Joyce’s waist, kissing her neck.
Will threw a smug look back at Jonathan, then gagged.
El smiled and looked at the dough. “I just want cookies. Can we do this now?”
A couple hours later, they had finished the sugar cookies in addition to Hershey Kiss thumbprints and no-bake Christmas wreath cookies.
“Tomorrow, it’s gingerbread cookies and snickerdoodles,” Joyce announced.
“Lemme guess. Your gingerbread cookies are thin and crispy, too?” Hopper teased.
“Of course.” Joyce picked up one of the cooled sugar cookies, handing it to Hopper. It was cut in the shape of a star, red sprinkles on top.
“Fine, if you insist.” Hopper took a bite, eyes lighting up. “Mm, these are actually pretty good.”
“There’s a family secret ingredient in them,” Will said.
“Oh, yeah? Well I live here now, so…”
“Doesn’t count,” Will joked.
“I know what it is,” El said. “I helped Joyce with the dough.”
“Well, why you holding out on me? What’s the secret?”
“Orange peel.”
Hopper chuckled. “Orange peel, huh? I guess I can taste that.”
“We have to be in the family now,” El said.
Hopper fixed his eyes on El’s and shook his head slightly, an act that unsettled Jonathan. “Well, if we’re making more cookies tomorrow,” Hopper said, changing the subject a bit, “I’m gonna make my artery-clogging, frosting-filled cookies, and we’ll see which is more popular.”
“Deal,” Joyce said.
Later that night, as Jonathan lay on the blow-up mattress in Will’s room, he considered when he should talk to his mom. Not wanting to ruin the holiday, he thought about waiting. At the same time, Christmas wouldn’t arrive for another three days, and he didn’t know if he could keep it in any longer. He glanced up at Will’s bed, but Will had fallen asleep. Jonathan shuffled, the vinyl of the mattress squeaking with every movement. Restless, he got up to use the bathroom.
As Jonathan tiptoed down the hallway, trying to keep quiet, he noticed he wasn’t the only one awake. He heard a noise coming from his mom’s room. At first, it sounded like crying. What the hell did Hopper do? he thought. But he quickly realized that oh, that’s not crying. That’s—shit. He dashed back to Will’s bedroom without using the bathroom, but not before hearing his mother giggle and Hopper mumble, “Shh, you’re going to wake the kids.”
Yeah. Too late. Fucking thin walls.
The next morning, Jonathan couldn’t take it, anymore. “Mom, I need to talk to you.”
“Hm?” her eyes glazed over him as she sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee. “Sorry, I’m a bit tired.”
No kidding, Jonathan thought. “Where’s Hopper?”
“He’s working today.”
Good. Jonathan sat down. “It’s something pretty serious,” he started.
“What happened? Are you failing out? Did you get arrested at a party? DUI?”
“Mom, I don’t even have a car in the city.”
“Right. You didn’t get Nancy pregnant, did you?”
“Not exactly.”
Joyce’s eyes bored into her son. “What do you mean not exactly?”
Jonathan took a deep breath. He’d have to tell her sooner or later. “When Nancy broke up with me, I was upset. Really upset.”
“What did you do, Jonathan Michael?”
It’d be best to just rip the bandaid off. “I got a girl pregnant.” Joyce’s hand flew to her mouth, but she said nothing. So Jonathan continued. “I didn’t mean to, obviously. I was trying to get my mind off her. Nancy. Didn’t really know the girl that well.”
Finally, Joyce spoke. “That was so incredibly stupid, and in more ways than one!”
“I know.”
“What the fuck were you think—forget it. What now?”
“Jackie said she’s having an abortion.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Or…maybe putting it up for adoption,” Jonathan added.
“Adoption?”
“Yeah, she said she doesn’t want it, but doesn’t know if she wants an abortion, either. I guess she was adopted? But Mom—” Jonathan’s voice cracked as he finally broke down. “I don’t think I can do that.”
Joyce pressed her fingers into her lips, tears welling up, but refusing to fall. Not yet.
“Mom, I don’t know what to do.”
Joyce pulled him in without a word as they shared tears together. Finally, after what could’ve been a few minutes, or maybe even an hour, Joyce tilted her head back to look at her son. “Are you sure it’s yours?”
“No,” Jonathan answered. “But she said she’s sure. Said she’d get a test for peace of mind if I want. Also said it didn’t really matter, since she’s not keeping it, either way.”
“Does it matter to you?”
“Yeah,” Jonathan choked. “It does.”
Joyce paused before speaking, barely a whisper. “You want to keep it, don’t you?”
“I don’t know what I want. I think I do. I think so.”
Joyce gripped her son by the shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes. “We will get through this. We are Byers. Byers are survivors. Strong. You are strong. We are going to figure this thing out.”
Jonathan nodded, staring at the floor. He wasn’t so sure.
***
Joyce Byers
“Hey babe,” Hopper grunted, walking into the bedroom late that night.
Joyce lay in bed, reading a novel, but not really. She couldn’t focus, not with the bombshell Jonathan dropped that morning. “How was your day?” she managed.
“Long. But I’m home now.” He pulled his shirt over his head and stripped down to his underwear, climbing into bed with a groan. “Sorry I wasn’t here for the rest of Cookie Baking Extravaganza. I brought home frosting. How was your day?”
Joyce started crying.
“Hey hey hey.” Hopper touched Joyce’s chin, tilting her head up to look into her eyes. “What happened?”
“We didn’t bake cookies today.”
Hopper’s eyes searched Joyce’s in confusion. “Sorry? If I would’ve known how important it was to you—”
“Jonathan got a girl pregnant,” Joyce blurted.
“What?” Hopper blinked. “Nancy?”
“No, not Nancy. Some girl. A one night stand or something. Hop—”
“Is she keeping it?”
“No. She’s…it’s either she’s having an abortion or giving it up for adoption.”
“How’s Jonathan handling all this?”
“He wants to keep it, Hop. I can’t let him keep it. It’ll ruin his life. He’ll have to quit school, get a couple shit jobs just to get by. But I know he’ll regret giving that baby up—”
“Joyce—” Hopper interrupted, clutching her arm. “What are you suggesting?”
“I—I don’t know. I know it sounds crazy, but what if I—”
“No. No. You just got done saying you didn’t want a baby. Talk about ruining his life. What about yours?”
Joyce’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying a baby would ruin my life? I could’ve easily said that about Jonathan, after all my shit with Lonnie, but I never did. Compared to everything else I’ve been through, a baby is nothing.”
“You’re just—you’re getting ahead of yourself here. You don’t even know what this girl’s decided. You don’t know if she would agree to letting you take the baby, anyway,” Hopper said.
“And why not? If she gives it up for adoption, why shouldn’t she agree to me?”
“Does he even know for sure it’s his?”
“We’ll figure that out.”
Hopper pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. “What about us, Joyce?”
“What about us? Are you saying you wouldn’t want to be with me if I cared for Jonathan’s baby? Because I recall you saying not that long ago that you’d love the hell out of our baby.”
“That’s different.”
“Is it? How? Jonathan is part of me. That means this baby is also part of me.”
Hopper said nothing.
“Well,” Joyce said, throwing up her arms and shrugging. “I guess this is your out, then.”
“Fuck, Joyce—”
“What? None of my relationships have ever worked out. Why should this one be any different?”
“Stop being so goddamn insecure. If I wanted to leave you, I would. I don’t need an out.”
Joyce huffed. “Like you’re so secure yourself.”
Hopper cupped Joyce’s face, shifting it toward his. “Look at me. I’ve said it before. I don’t want to leave. I love you. I love the boys. I want this to be long-term, and I know you do, too. This is just a lot to take in. It’s a huge deal, you know? Please be patient with me.”
Something in Hopper’s eyes told her he meant it. She relaxed. “I’m sorry. It is a big deal. You know me, though.”
“Reactionary,” Hopper chuckled. “Act first, think second.”
“Hey now,” Joyce said. “You’re one to talk.”
“At least I’m better with feelings than I was in the past. I have you and El to thank for that.”
“It’s true.” Joyce sat up on her knees, wrapping her arms around Hopper’s neck. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to be transparent with each other. We’ll work on being patient with each other. We’ll give each other space to process. And when we fuck up, ‘cause we will, we’ll make amends, move on, and learn from it.” She kissed him softly. “We’re both very stubborn people, but I think we’re really good together.”
Hopper laughed. “Deal. And I agree. We’re great together, despite our challenges.” He kissed her back, pulling her onto his lap. “And I’ve never felt so connected to anyone else in bed.” He wagged his eyebrows.
Joyce tried to squirm away. “You’re just saying that to get laid.”
“No, it really is the truth. But it’s a little bit of the latter, too.” Hopper smirked, planting sloppy kisses all down her neck before pulling her on top of him.
***
Jim Hopper
As quickly as Christmas came, it went. Although Hopper had celebrated the holiday with El the previous year, it’d been a long time since he spent it with something resembling a stereotypical family.
“I need to talk to Jonathan about the whole baby thing before he leaves on Friday,” Joyce said as she got ready for work on New Year’s Eve morning.
“Hey, why don’t I talk to him?” Hopper suggested. “I have Thursday off to make up for working the holiday. I think we’re due for a good talk. I don’t get the sense that he likes my being here.”
“That’s silly.” Joyce waved her hand as she searched the room for her name tag.
“Is it?”
Joyce stopped to look at Hopper. “No. You’re probably right. Sure, why not? If you think you can handle it.”
“I think so.”
A few days later, Jonathan sat across from Hopper at the newest burger joint in town. He picked at the bun, hardly having eaten anything.
“You okay?” Hopper asked.
“Yeah, I just—Mom told you, didn’t she?”
“Yeah.”
“I kinda wish she hadn’t. I mean, no offense to you, but I told her, not you,” Jonathan said.
“I get it. And I understand your coolness toward me. You love your mom and want what’s best for her.”
Jonathan grunted as he continued to pull his bun apart.
“I have a reputation, I know. It was, uh, my way of dealing with the pain. Much like you have.”
Jonathan lifted his head, still silent.
“When we hurt, sometimes we do things to dull the pain that ultimately hurt us more. You know what I’m talking about?”
Jonathan gave a slight nod.
“So for me, I felt so lost after Sara. And cursed. Like a black hole. I felt like I had nothing worth living for. Helping find your brother began the whole healing process, but it wasn’t until El showed up, needing me, that I truly began to recover. I had someone worth living for again.” Hopper took a sip of his Coke. “And your mom has played a big role in that, too. And I know you don’t like to think it, but your mom and I, we need each other. We fill this kind of void that’s in both of our lives. We love each other a lot.”
Jonathan still didn’t say anything, choosing instead to eat his fries.
“You don’t have to talk. But just know I’m always here for you. Even if you don’t want me to be. And this situation you’re in—we’ll figure it out. Your mom and I, we’ll navigate it with you.” Hopper paused. “Your mom—she wants to adopt the baby.”
Jonathan’s eyes shot to Hopper. “What? She shouldn’t have to do that—”
“She doesn’t have to. She wants to.”
“I don’t want to put that on her.”
“You know, kid, most parents would give the world for their children. Your mom is no exception. You saw what she did when Will was in the Upside Down. What makes you think she couldn’t handle this?”
“I don’t know,” Jonathan mumbled. “I just feel guilty.”
“Talk to her about it. I think you’ll feel a bit better after you do.”
“And what about you?” Jonathan asked. “You’re okay with all of this?”
“It’s not ideal, but yeah. I’ve had some time to process it, and I’m okay. I’m not going anywhere if that’s what you’re asking.”
Jonathan nodded.
“Talk to your mom. Talk to the girl—”
“Jackie.”
“Talk to Jackie. Let us know what she decides to do.”
“Okay,” Jonathan said. “I will.”
“You’re a good kid,” Hopper said, squeezing Jonathan’s shoulder. “Whatever happens, we’ll get through it together.”
“Thanks, Hop.”