The Difference- Chapter 25

25

If the fog would only go away for longer than a moment she might actually be able to capture her thoughts before they darted from her grasp like slippery, shimmering fish. Not that she had ever tried to hold on to fish by hand except on the random deep sea fishing excursions. Of course, then she and worn gloves. That's what she needed now: slip-proof dream gloves.

It was truly annoying how she could not escape the sleep-like state long enough to figure out what the heck got her so drowsy. What had she ingested the night before to get her this knocked out? All Lisa knew was that she had to get it together or she'd miss her flight to be with Michael. Not that she had any idea what day it was. Still, she was driven by an urgency which could only mean it was time to see him.  Everything inside screamed that something was very wrong.  Either she was overly sensitized to shit hitting the fan or... Or she should listen to that voice as ignoring it in the past, had never  panned out.

"Lisa-Marie,baby, are you awake? Come on, look at me. Look, Michael is here with me."

Voices slithering through the haze. Her mother's voice. And obviously hell had frozen over while she slept, if she interpreted here mother's tone correctly and it was delight coloring her words. Delight and Michael's name were mutually exclusive in her mother's case.

 

This surely was part of the dream, right? Why would Priscilla be here in her bedroom? Talk about nightmares!

Lisa strained to open her eyes. Must have been some powerful stuff last night. Wait- she didn't do that anymore.  Confusion...

And why was mother in her bedroom? Had she gone overboard?  Nope...not likely. The days of waking up hung over from a variety of substances and finding Priscilla plus a team of people to "get her straight" next to her had finally gone. Come to think of it, what had happened to her bed? It was uncomfortable as all get-out. The next attempt to move send a sharp pain through her. 

A memory slashed like a knife through the canvas of her mind. Pain. There had been so much pain. The recollection mingled with present agony like two dark colors circling a drain, becoming indistinguishable. Suddenly, the comfortable nothing she had been surrounded by seemed preferable.  Too bad the door had retreated as the fog lifted.

Wet.

 

There had been wetness, too. Did she fall into the pool? Yeah, that was it. She recalled the taste of chlorinated water and automatically was shaken by a coughing fit.

 

"What's happening, doctor? Why is she coughing like that? You said her lungs were ok."

 

God, did her mother have to be such a bitch to the doctor? Why was Michael not reigning her in? If, indeed, he was present.

 

Come on, Lise, open your damn eyes! How hard can it be?

 

Well, it was hard as hell!

 

Doctor?

 

Shit, she must be in a hospital. That's what that odd, sterile smell was.

"She is coming out of sedation, obviously. Anastasia can induce some suppression of pulmonary function."

"Why won't she open her eyes?"

"Gosh, Mom! Do you have to use that tone? My head..."

Lisa's own voice sounded like she just gave three shows in a row.  In Moscow. Open air. Followed by yelling at Michael all night. Or by him making her lose her voice in one of their other marathons that followed the fighting.

"Thank God, she knows it's me...Baby, open your eyes."

How could she ever mistake her mother’s voice?

Lisa cleared her throat.  Finally her eye-lids were pried open by sheer willpower. Garish, bright light assaulted her and forced her to squint.

"Too bright....” She swallowed to  combat the odd dryness and weird taste in her throat. “Where is Michael?"

 

She was able to discern two figures next to what she assumed was her mother. One was dressed in a white coat and Lisa correctly labelled him to be the doctor.  While she still could not make out who the other one was, she was fairly certain it was not Michael. Great- mother had lied to her despite her obviously just having come out of some kind of surgery. Why else had the doc talked about anesthesia?

"Right here, Lisa. I'm so glad to see you."

What the fuck?

 

Lockwood? Sadly, her eyes picked that instance to adjust and she was greeted by the man she had sent packing. Why did he keep turning up?  His presence was the last thing she needed. Kind of like going to a tanning bed with a sunburn: redundant, painful, and counterindicated.

 

"Get out!"

"Lisa, Michael rushed down here as soon as he heard about the accident. He has been so worried.."

 

He should be worried. He should fear the moment she could get up and knock him on his skinny ass. It was all his fault. Without his clingy, stalker-ish bullshit, she wouldn't have to worry about Michael going apeshit about that damn picture Julia showed her.

Instantly, fair Juliette's name triggered the opening of the floodgates that had protected her mind.  That's right, Julia had come to her house.  They had fought. Julia basically had dared to threaten her that she would open Michael's eyes...  Open his eyes to what? A set up and lies? He'd never fall for anything this stupid.

 

Some loud, annoying peeping sound interrupted her trip down memory lane. What now? What had triggered the emergency break jarring her train of thought to a halt?

"Miss Presley, calm down. Your blood pressure is spiking. Are you in pain?"

"Get him the fuck out of here. Out!!" Her last command was yelled and came out shrill and headache inducing voice. Great. She was her mother's daughter after all.

 

Lisa sank back into the pillow, her cold hands sheltering her eyes. She kept shaking her head, attempting to make sense of all this.

Not really caring, she still could make out her mothers muffled voice, ushering Lockwood out of the room while insuring him Lisa would probably want to see him later.  Yeah, like five lives from now. As a goldfish in her pond, enjoying the scum. If that.

 

"How long have I been here? Where am I? What happened?"

Lisa gazed at the doctor who kept adjusting knobs on the machine.

"We're going to administer another light tranquilizer.  We can't have you upsetting yourself, little lady.  You've been through quite some trauma. You really need to stay calm."

 

Who was this clown? How dared he "little lady" her? And why was he oddly familiar?  It seemed she had met him at a function before.... Lisa dug into the register of her mind.  Yes, oh great: it had been a fundraiser for the Church. Dammit! Of course, her mother would bring her to a place with with people qualified to keep taps on her. Not that they weren't everywhere, though, anyway. Like an invasive, subversive, alien species taking over the natural habitat, killing everything native slowly but surely.

"No, wait. Tell me what happened. Mom, what are you doing here? What the hell happened?"

 

"Lisa, there is no need to curse and no need to upset yourself."

"Oh, really? All I remember is that bitch showing me that damn picture and next thing I know I wake up here. So excuse me if I am slightly upset."

 

"Do you remember anything before you lost consciousness, Lisa-Marie?"

Did E.T. just use her first name? Lisa shot him one of her ice glares. For a second she thought about cutting him down to size, then she reconsidered.  First, the poor dude was vertically challenged already. Plus,  might not be all that smart to piss off the person in charge of the shit they pumped into your veins.  Not that she thought they would hurt her. No, they would keep the golden goose nice and fat. The threat was to her kids.  And Michael. Who was safely out of their reach.

And hers.

"Where's my phone?" Back to the important stuff.

Her mother and the dweebish doc exchanged glances.  Oh great- she was Lisa, the problem child once again. Any minute now, they would whip out the cleansing potions.  

"You really don't remember, Lisa?"

Lisa tried to sit up in frustration quickly found out it was a really bad idea as a sharp pain and some cramping caused her to flinch.

"Steve, she still is in pain. Please do something."

Oh, Steve, was it? Not even Doctor Steve... How familiar was Mommy Dearest with Dilbert here? Sorry, Dr Dilbert.

"She is right here. And yes, she is in pain, but she also wants here goddamn phone and she wants to talk to Michael. Now." Maybe the sarcastic, bossy approach would help. She needed answers.

"Lisa. You passed out and fell into the pool.  I suspect your phone went in with you, as Riley said she didn't see it."

Oh God! The kids had been there?

And Julia.

Julia definitely had been there. Lisa squinted again, her hand massaging her temple. Had the little blow-up doll thrown her into the pool? No, as she tried to piece everything back together, the pain and all consuming darkness preceded the plunge.

And yet, she had not drowned. 

"Who...? How...?"

"If you're asking who pulled you to safety, it seems we owe Miss Curtis a huge debt of gratitude. She had the presence of mind to jump in and pull you out once she noticed you were unconscious. She also gave you CPR."

Who the hell was that? A paramedic? Surely mother didn't mean Julia.

Obviously, she had asked the question aloud.

"Lisa. Miss Curtis is the nice lady who was there when you fainted. She said she was a friend of ...Michael's."

Saying his name was obviously still extremely difficult for Priscilla judging from the breathing exercise preceding her spitting it out between clenched teeth.

So, Julia swapped her designer suit for a cape and became a superhero? Wonderful. And she pulled her out once she noticed?  Lisa wondered how long that took.  Twenty minutes would not have come as a surprise.

And CPR? Great, now she could tell Michael she kissed his little mattress. Gross. 

"Wonderful. Now I have to be grateful to the little w... ah,woman." Lisa cleared her throat.

"Yes, Miss Curtis said you two had a discussion, and suddenly you fell. She didn't even see the ...the blood..till after she pulled you out?"

The blood?

What, had she hit her head? Or did Julia help with that while she was out?

"What blood?" Lisa touched her head.  No. No outside pain. And no wounds she could detect.

The pain. Th cramps. Like having a period.  Only so much stronger.

Her eyes widened and her hand flew to her abdomen. No!

No, not that.

Anything but that again.

Tears rose in her eyes.

Another quickly exchanged look between Priscilla and Dr Steve was intercepted.

"What happened to me?"

All thunder had vanished from her voice, her vocal chords suddenly paralyzed by sheer terror.

The timbre, the pitiful sound, the pain ripping through her heart surpassing any physical ailment, all hit a chord in her most secluded and sacred memory bank and flooded her, threatening to drown her- this time for good.  Oxygen was squeezed from here lungs as dread filled here being with a poisonous cloud.

"It's ok, baby.  You're ok, that's all that counts."

Michael's voice from so long ago resonated inside as if he was sitting right next to her. That day he had been the image greeting her waking up from a nightmare, understanding that the real agony was not in dreams.

His eyes so full of sadness, full of tears.  She could read the redness, knew it was not solely from sleep deprivation. The forced smile never reached the immense grief darkening those mysterious pools.  The hands holding hers so cold, and yet aiming to do their best to supply her with heat.

Their dream shattered.  Their hearts broken.

That's our punishment.  The gods had decreed the golden couple was not immune to their laws of morality.

When she met his gaze through the curtain of her tears, her thought was there, reflected in their depths for a mere second.  Yet she had seen it clear as day. He later denied it.  Called the miscarriage a fluke. That's what the doctors had said.

Those things happen early in pregnancies.  No reason to not try again later. Nature's way.

But she knew better. 

She knew from the moment she realized they had not used protection. Again.

"Michael, dammit. We did it again. We need to the fuck stop it."

He had rolled over. God- he looked like a gilded statue, sweat glistening on him, his hair damp, his smile blinding, his eyes still clouded from the mind-shattering orgasm.

"Speak for yourself.I don't plan on stopping till I get enough. Likely never."

He broke into giggles, jumped out of bed, smacking her butt, singing the song he just so cleverly quoted.

"Very funny. This birth control Russian Roulette has to stop, Michael. We talked about this."

"No, dear lady. We did not. You did. I pretended to listen."

"Bull, I remember you agreed."

"Funny, 'cause all I remember is you promising to leave loser-boy."

"I did! I left. Who's bed am I in?"

"Who's name do you carry?"

"My Dad's."

Michael smirked, and she flashed him a smile.

"Smart-Alec!  That's odd anyway. Women take their husband's name."

"Well, this woman didn't."

"She will next time."

"Oh, will she?"

"Yep. It's an outward sign of my dominance over you."

Lisa searched his face. Was he fucking serious? She knew he could be old-fashioned and in so many things was a slave to tradition, but this was ridiculous.

"Here. Dominate that, dick head."

The pillow flew at his head and he deflected it perfectly, bursting into laughter.

With amazing speed he was on the bed, wrestling her down, holding her arms pinned over her head. Lisa tried to evade his kisses, but he was determined.  And she was getting turned on again.  The things he did to her...

"Like I need a name to dominate you... I got way better weapons.  You are mine, Lisa. Mine, forever.  And if we happen to make a baby, well, that will seal the deal, won't it..."

His tone was light, but she knew he was deadly serious. And yet, she had been powerless.  She continued to roll the dice...until she thought she won. When it really had  only been the beginning of one of the major losses of her life.  Discovery of her pregnancy sent him into euphoria and officially ended her marriage to Danny much faster than planned.  It also sped up their marriage plans.  Not that she cared. She was basking in the ignorant paradise of fools. A paradise built on deception and destruction of a family.  Sure, the kids were small, but she knew children would bear scars from deep sadness that preceded the ability to have words or logical thoughts.  Oh,yes, she knew all this first hand.

But she loved Michael and would lose him if she didn't come to her senses and stop walking the tightrope.  Her marriage was a lie anyway- it had actually been dead on arrival. Vows tend to lose their meaning when the heart screamed for someone else, and the owner was just too stubborn to listen. So, maybe losing the baby was her punishment for that original violation of universal law when she denied her love for Michael and committed herself to Danny.  Either way, it had ripped her to shreds. If she would wish for anything it was to never have to face that kind of loss again.

Had it happened again?

Had she lost another baby?

They had been careless. But she had been so sure.. So certain it could not happen...

Lisa thought she had abandoned the ability to pray long ago, and yet in those couple of seconds she silently prayed with all her heart and soul for God not to take another angel of light from her.  Not when everything had started to come together.

"Did I..." Her voice broke for a second. She swallowed the burning lump in her throat and tried again. She had to know.

"Did I have a miscarriage?"

"You think you were pregnant, Lisa? But Michael said there was no way... He..."

Her mother stopped in mid-sentence and understanding rose in her features as evidenced by the tightening of her lips and the blushing of her skin.  Not embarrassment or compassion, Lisa knew, but anger.  After all these years, Priscilla still hated Michael. Astounding.  What a waste if energy.

"Oh, I see."

"Mother, did you think I was kidding when I said Michael and I were on our way to work things out?"

"And as always that involves jumping into bed with him? Will you never learn?"

Without consulting her watch, Lisa knew what time had come: It was high time to ignore her mother. 

"Spare me the birds and bees speech, Mom, will y'a?"

Priscilla only stared at her and shook her head in frustration.

Just block her out, Lisa. Remember your goal. You gotta find out.

"Doctor. If you don't want me to sue the shit out if this place you better fill me in on what's going on here. Did I have a miscarriage?"

"Lisa, if I may call you that...please calm down."

Why they heck did he ask her now if she minded? Why was he stalling? It must be true. She must have lost a baby. Tears once again returned, and this time she let them flow freely.

"Lisa, when you were initially brought in, the nature of your hemorrhaging certainly suggested a miscarriage..."

A small sound, reminiscent of a wounded animal escaped from deep inside her soul and her hand flew to her mouth to contain it.

"However, we ran some tests immediately and ruled that out."

Relief hit her gut like an iron fist and she almost threw up as the adrenaline cursed through her, leaving her a shaking mess.  The worst had not happened.  It was ok.  She did not have to see that look in his eyes again.  He was spared from yet another wound to his spirit.

"What is wrong with me, then?"

"We found you had a large cyst in your uterus. It had ruptured, causing your pain and the bleeding.  You were vey fortunate that you received immediate medical attention. We managed to save your uterus.  Everything looks really good."

A fucking cyst? Just her luck.  Well, at least she had not been in midair when it ruptured.  And maybe it was fortunate Julia had been around.  Even if she was an evil, jealous bitch. But at least she had jumped in after here. Probably had not wanted the hassle of having to explain to Michael how the woman he loved drowned in a pool of blood...right in her own backyard.

"What about the cyst? You said it's gone.  You got it all, right?" She felt her abdomen with her hand and detected a small bandage under the flimsy hospital gown.

"We did, and we are waiting for biopsy results to confirm it was benign. And your incision looks wonderful.  It was a laparoscopic procedure and will heal nicely with just a small scar."

Like she was worried about a scar. Another word had captured her attention.

Benign?

Oh, fuck! Could she have cancer? Oh, hell, no! Not when all her dreams were so close to coming true. She was not going to submit to some rampant cells beating her ass now.

"How long till we get the result?"

"I put a rush on them. Should be by the end of today, possibly tomorrow."

"Make it today, doc. I have a plane to catch."

"Lisa. You just had surgery!"

"Miss Presley, you will have to rest for a week or two at the very least before you can travel. Even if the news are, as expected good."

Lisa was unwilling to listen to the chorus of doom.

"They will be good. Not a question about it. You have no idea what I just accomplished. I moved a mountain. I achieved the impossible.  I made that difference. No cyst will keep me from where I need to be."

"But as I understand it, the Michael you keep asking about, is right outside. What's the rush? You two can travel later."

Lisa laughed and her mother rolled her eyes.  It was no use to enlighten the good doctor.  Knowledge was power.  Power which she was unwilling to share.

"Mom? They said you are wake."

Riley and Ben stuck their beautiful heads into the doorway and Lisa's heart took a giant leap.  Her babies must have been so scared! But it would all be ok. As soon as she talked to Michael. He must be going out of his mind with worry, wondering why she had not called back.

After assuring her children she was good as gold and after they uncharacteristically allowed her to hug and kiss them as much as she wanted, she finally asked about her phone.

Riley informed her the phone had been less lucky than its owner: it had been fished out of the pool quite dead. Riley also told her that Michael had called the previous day, - the day of the accident.  She had been out for longer than she had feared.

Riley related that he had sounded frantic to talk to Lisa, but had not left his new number again. And of course, the message with the new contact information was on her dearly departure smart phone.

Well, there was another person who had his number. Hopefully only in a literal way. No, once he heard what happened he would surely realize Lockwood and Julia were simply trying what so many others had attempted before them. Only now, her and Michael were smarter and older.  And prepared for lies to come flying.  Their skin now should have Teflon type lie protection.

"I need to contact Julia. I want to thank her."

Riley and Ben exchanged a surprised look.

"She was here most of the day yesterday, but I haven't seen her around today. From what you said earlier I didn't gather she was a friend of yours."

"Well, Mom, no. But all your drilling must have worked after all and I do have some manners. So, I think it's only the right thing to do to thank her in person.  Does anyone have her contact info? Her number drowned with my phone."

As luck would have it, Julia had actually provided her contact number to her mother. Lisa found out the police had also popped in to ask questions and Julia probably wanted to make sure no one suspected her of foul play.

Priscilla agreed to make the call, and several hours later, just when Lisa had obediently ingested several spoonfuls of wonderful hospital jelly, a nurse informed her that a Miss Curtis was here to see her.

Julia looked as perfect as always, and Lisa, having checked out the pale face and matching drank shadows under her eyes completing her zombie look, felt once again like an ugly little baby bird next to a gorgeous swan. 

Remember, Lisa, the goal is to get to Michael. So play nice. You have something she will never have, no matter how outwardly stunning she is: his heart.  Oh, and a soul.

The women stared at each other in awkward silence after Lisa asked her children to leave the room.  Riley, with a warning glance at Julia, stated she would be right outside.

Lisa was determined to make Julia speak first.  Finally, the hussy cleared her throat and rose to the challenge.

"I am glad to see you are ok.  You really scared your family to death. It broke my heart to see your children and your mother so shook up. And Mr Lockwood also seemed inconsolable."

Well, you're welcome to comfort him, sweetheart. And I just bet you are thrilled to see me better...Lisa...the goal!

"I understand I have you to thank for the fact I'm not member of the watery grave club. Thanks.  I'm a bit surprised you fished me out, but I am nonetheless grateful."

"You're welcome. I didn't even have time to think, it all happened so quickly.  It was such a reflex to jump in and save someone in danger. Anyone would have done the same."

Lisa felt like barfing. Julia and her false humble demeanor almost forced the the jello to make a return appearance. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to smile.

"Well, wile you managed to save me,- and did such an outstanding job-, my phone is quite dead. So, I need one more favor. I need you to give me Michael's new number."

Julia kept a pokerface, but started to chew on her lip before catching herself.

"Michael's number? Why would you think I have that?"

"Because you very kindly informed me that you sent him that insignificant picture you showed me.  I assume you didn't mean you sent it by mail pigeon."

You bitch. 

The epithet was successfully suppressed. This was an extreme exercise in self-control.

"Ah, yes. Well...of course not.  But I'm not sure I still have it.  I tried to make sure I honor his wishes to give him space."

Sugar, the universe does not have enough room for the space you need to give my man. And I will make sure you will. As soon as your fake ass gives me what I need.

"Funny, that you didn't call him to inform him of your heroic act."

"I don't like to brag..."

Oh, how not to laugh at that one?

"I'm sure you don't. So, the number...it should be in your 'sent' listing..."

Lisa's patience was dangerously close to running out. If she counted on Riley's help, she was still sure she could take her.  Since the pain meds had kicked in she felt invincible. 

"Of course..." Julia took her sweet time, but nonetheless produced her phone and asked for a pen and paper. Lisa called for a nurse who very nicely helped her out.

Finally, Julia handed her a number.

"Hey, maybe I can just use your phone. What's one more favor, right?"

Julia had obvious trouble keeping her face neutral.

"I don't have an international plan. And since some of us don't have money growing on trees, maybe you could call from the hospital or your family can lend you a phone."

Obviously, texting the picture to an international number had placed poor Julia close to the poverty line. Maybe she should stop wearing designer suits...

Since the nurse was still in the room, Lisa asked her to please call Riley in. It was only prudent to ensure Julia had not 'accidentally' provided the wrong number. 

Riley happily handed the phone to her mother and Julia was about to leave the room, but with a glance from Lisa, her daughter managed to stand right before the door, blocking the exit.  What a smart child she had raised!

As expected, the annoying electronic voice informed Lisa the call could not be connected as dialed. Either Michael had changed his number already again, or Julia had been less than honest.  Which would be such a shocker...only not.

"Julia, would you mind checking one more time? Seems there was a mistake with the number you gave me. I'm so glad you stayed so we can correct that error."

The sweetness in her tone sufficed to induce lethal diabetes in anyone within earshot.

Riley had a coughing fit, and Lisa almost had to giggle at Julia's face as well. 

No, chickie, I did not suffer brain damage. So hand over the fucking number then take a hike.

"Let me see. ...Oh, I'm so sorry, I transposed two numbers.  I am dyslexic, you know."

Lisa suspected that Julia was more likely afflicted with terminal 'droped-insignificant lover syndrome.' But whatever. 

She redialed and got a tone this time.  Butterflies stirred in her stomach. Gosh, she did not know what was expecting her on the other line.

"Hello?"

A whisper more than a voice. 

"Michael? It's me.."

"Lisa. It's Prince. My Dad left his phone lying around...well...that is... How are you? I'm so happy to hear from you! You won't..."

"Hi Prince, I'm happy to talk to you, too. Hold, on ok..."

Placing here hand over the phone, Lisa addressed Julia who obviously just ate a lemon or something equally acerbic, judging by her face.

"Worked this time.. Thanks so much. Riley baby, please make sure Miss Curtis finds her way out of the hospital without trouble. We have taken up enough of her time. And thanks again, Julia."

With that obvious dismissal, she turned away from Julia, being more than confident than Riley and Ben would escort her out. If she was lucky, she'd never have to deal with the conniving slut again.

"Prince, how are you? How are Paris and Blanket? I really need to talk to your Dad. Is he around?

"No, and we haven't seen him all day.  Grace said he wasn't feeling well, but Lisa, we are all very worried.  Daddy never misses breakfast with us.  Well, he did this spring and summer, but not since June.  And Grace acts all weird...and Paris is crying 'cause she said she told Daddy she had forgotten to tell him that you called back till the other night, and that maybe he got sick from worry...and..."

The poor child sounded breathless and totally freaked out. What was going on over there? It was not like Michael at all to lock himself away. Unless he actually bought that stupid picture and Julia's lies.  But no, that would not suffice to send him into seclusion mode.  

"Can you try and take the phone to him, Prince. I'm sure he's just worn out from traveling; maybe he has really bad jet lag.  Let me talk to him."

"I can't. His door is locked and Grace told us we couldn't disturb him."

The tone sounded panicky and close to tears.  Poor baby.  Michael must be seriously ill to worry his children like this.  And Grace was not helping.  Lisa sighed. She knew it had been a mistake to bring the barracuda back. She would not be surprised if she had Michael drugged and tied to the bedpost, trying to get him to finally fulfill her sick fantasy.

"It's ok, Prince.  Is Grace there? Let me talk to her."

Lisa had never been afraid of the nanny with ambitions and she was certainly not going to be kept from Michael by her.

Right on cue, Lisa heard Grace in the background. She asked Prince why he had his father's phone and demanded he hand it to her.

"Ok, here she is. I hope to see you soon. Hurry!"

Oh, she intended to do just that.

"Grace, this is Lisa Presley. Put Michael on the phone- right away."

"Lisa, good to hear you have not changed. Michael is indisposed. And if he was not, he still would not want to talk to you."

Grace's voice ground her nerves to row bundles like electric chords being deprived of their insolation. The pain meds were also no match for the constant stress with these lunatic bitches surrounding Michael.

"Look, I'm not in the mood for your nonsense.  And Mike will not be pleased to find out you're screening his calls. Your days are numbered.  You better not bother with unpacking. Now give him the phone."

"Listen, Princess, I don't take orders from you.  And believe you me, Michael doesn't want to talk to you. I'm under strict instructions about that."

“I don’t care what your orders are and which one of your voices supplied them, just be a good little nanny and waltz yourself into your favorite place- my husband’s bedroom- and hand him the damn phone.”

“Lisa-Marie, you have succumbed to dementia finally.  Only a matter of time with all your drugging and boozing.  But Michael has not been your husband for ages.  And if I am in his bedroom it is because he invites me there.”

Great- the bitch was delusional.  Michael was known to be an equal opportunity employer and now he actually had a mentally challenged nanny.  Just wonderful.

“Grace- I will say this slowly as to not overtax your brain: Hand– Michael- the- phone.”

“Lisa, I could not force him to take  the phone if he knew it was you on the line.  You finally did it.  I knew you would.  You made it all blow up.  I can’t believe you would hurt him like that.  Oh, but then again, it’s no surprise.  He was devastated when he learned of your latest…ah…stunt.  As usual he needed me to put him back together.  But I should thank you.  Your cruelty ripped the blinders off his eyes and he finally can see again.  He will heal- he is cured from your evil powers once and for all.”

“Are you sniffing paint?  I know the other bitch sent him that stupid picture.  And even if he was pissed, he would not seclude himself like that. The kids are freaking out- what are you doing over there?”

“The picture?  That was only the beginning.  I really, really need to thank you.  Even if your will go to hell for sure now.  Well, lucky for you, you don’t believe in all that, though.  Which explains your lack of conscience.  I am done wasting my time.  I have a job to do.”

“Grace, don’t you dare…”

The static silence cut her off before she really lost it.  The bitch had actually hung up on her.  How dared she?  Well, she would be sorry.  When Lisa would be through with her, not even the Wicked Witch of the West would hire Miss Grace as a nanny.  She was done.  Hopefully she was familiar with flipping burgers. 

Lisa hit redial. It went straight to voicemail.

"Michael, if by some miracle that deranged Mary Poppins lets you have your phone. Call me- well, no; call Riley. My phone's dead. It's urgent you call. I love you."

Exhausted, Lisa sank back into the pillows. What an unimaginable situation!

“Mom, is everything ok?  Did you talk to Michael?”

Riley re-entered her mothers room and perused her with a concerned gaze.

“No, baby.  Seems he has been in his room all day and not even Prince  could get to him. Grace is guarding him like Cerberus.”

“Well, Mommy, we have his number. We try later.  He will call you- I just know he will.  He has to know something serious has happened.  It will be ok, you’ll see.”

Riley sat next to hear and hugged her.  Lisa inhaled her daughter’s comfort, feeling weak and worn out.  Why was this so frigging difficult?  Why was everything always in some sort of devilish conspiracy to keep her and Michael apart?  Had they not suffered enough?

Something was wrong, Lisa could feel it.  The eerie feeling was only too familiar.   He was not well and he needed her.  Michael was still so very vulnerable- he was only too susceptible to lies.  Especially as he seemed to be in some kind of nowhere land when it came to trusting people again.  They had made a start, but now he was under the influence of the vultures again, and she was helpless and could not kiss sense into him. 

The news that he had somehow sequestered himself was worrisome in itself.  He had a habit of crawling into his shell and pretending the world did not exist when he was hurt.  It often seemed that his batteries just shut down and he needed to re-charge.  Sadly, during those times he had not always made wise decisions about his health.  He was normally so determined to be strong for his kids- it really freaked Lisa out that Prince was so worried.

A few minutes later she was side-tracked by the doctor making his rounds, and giving her a stern “talking-to” about her blood pressure.  He ordered Riley out of her room, pushed another sedative, and informed her he would not let her have calls or visitors if she did not manage to keep herself relaxed.

Well, sure, easier said than done.  She would relax once she heard Michael’s voice and felt his love surrounding her once again.  If only he was here…if only he could hold her, kiss her worries away, and tell her that everything was alright.  Feeling warm and sluggish, she surrendered to the silky heaviness of the drugs weighing her down.

When she woke it was dark outside.  A nurse was at her bedside, taking her blood pressure.

“Hi, Miss Presley.  Is there anything you need?  Your BP is really good now- the doctor will be happy.”

Lisa tried to speak and found her throat dry.  The nurse immediately handed her a cup of water, and Lisa took several sips while the young woman supported her efforts to sit up.  How she detested being this out of commission!

“So, let me tell you.  You caused quite a commotion here, Miss Presley.  We had to turn reporters away most of the day.  Seems that news of your accident spread.”

“That’s just great.  Any good versions of it floating around?  I can stand some amusement right now.”

“I heard one tabloid  wondered if there was a Dynasty-style fight going on in your pool. That’s the most exotic version of events I heard.”

Laughing, Lisa truly appreciated the nurse’s honesty.  Too often people tiptoed around her, intimidated by her name.

“Oh, really?  Well, would it surprise you to know they weren’t that far off?  Only my plunge into the pool was much less glamorous, I assure you.  A stupid cyst kicked my butt.  My adversary, if you will call her that, would not have been successful.”

“No, you are fierce.  Well, I am sure it would have been no contest.”

“Yep.  She never had a chance.”

Karen, Lisa read her name tag, smiled and seemed to hesitate for a moment as if she was deliberating about something. 

“Is there something you’re holding back, Karen?”

“Oh, well.  You mother asked us not to share this information with you, but I think it is a bit ridiculous to keep information from adult, competent patients.  Especially, when they seem to be more than capable of making their own decisions.”

“Well, whatever my mother asked you to do- she is not my guardian and I am an adult.  And I'm competent most of the time, I assure you. So, now that I’m back from la-la land, consider all my mother’s orders null and void. What is it I am not supposed to know?”

Lisa was willing to bet money it had to do with Michael. 

“Well, you see, I am a huge fan of your ex-husband, and I’m not saying that in some kind of weird, stalker way.  When you were brought in, I was wondering if we would hear from him…”

Bingo!  Lisa felt excitement cursing through her.  Maybe there was finally a ray of sunshine on the horizon.

“Did you?  Did he call?  Did he ask for me?”

“Well, someone kept calling earlier today and he gave a string of phony names, but always asked about your condition. Of course, we did not give out that information to anyone not on the family listing your mother provided.  I took some of the calls and I thought it was Mr Jackson.  Then, one of the other nurses told me, someone identifying himself as Michael Jackson called, asking how you were.  He said something like even though they did not give information to strangers, which he appreciated, he was your husband and wanted to know how your procedure went.  Well, my colleague also knows your history so she knew he was not your husband anymore.  She was not one hundred percent sure if it was him, but she thought it might have been.”

He had called! She knew he would not be kept from her. 

Oh, Michael, baby, how horrible to not know what’s going on!

She remembered the feeling of being totally out of the loop and being kept in the dark about his health- and she recalled how it had almost driven her mad.  She would never forget bearing into his hospital room after he fainted rehearsing for that stupid HBO special- and how all her worry, concern, anger, and frustration had made her act like some deranged bat out of hell. 

“Well, if he calls again, please put the call through.  I have been trying to get in touch with him, but…” Lisa caught herself, noticing that she uncharacteristically had almost disclosed very personal information.

“I sure will.  Don’t tell anyone, but I always thought you guys belong together.  People can say all they want about your ‘short marriage’- but I saw all those pictures of the two of you over the years, and I see the light in y’alls eyes.  Sorry for being sappy.  That’s all I’m gonna say about this.”

Karen handed her the cup again, and Lisa obediently took another sip.  Before Karen left, Lisa held on to her hand and gave a warm squeeze, which the nurse returned with a smile and a nod.  An ally- finally!

The dugs gently guided her into another round of dark, dreamless sleep. 

Lisa had not idea how long she had slept, before she heard a whisper next to her bedside.  Karen was next to her once more.

“Miss Presley.  I hate to wake you.  But I thought you’d want to know.  The caller is back on line."

It took a second to bring order to her jumbled thoughts.  The caller?  Oh- THE caller.  The one who potentially was Michael.  Unless it was a reporter or deranged fan.  Should she really risk it and be dowsed by a bucked of ice-water when disappointment hit her?

“Was it him? Are you sure?  Did he leave a number?”

“He is still on the line.  I told him to hold so I can access the information.  I thought I’d at least give you the chance to check it out.”

Lisa bit her lip.  Oh, heck, what was the worst that could happen?  She could always hang up.

Words abandoned her, and all she could do was nod.

Karen punched a number into the phone she was carrying and held it out to Lisa.  After a millisecond of hesitation, Lisa grabbed the receiver.

“Hello? Who is this?”

Silence. 

No, not really.  Some eery static and what sounded like breathing.

“Hello, I am still holding for the information on Lisa-Marie Presley.”

Michael.  Her heart leapt into her throat.  Finally!

“I was wondering when you would finally call to check in on me.  I was going nuts- I can’t get a hold of you and…Oh my God, I am so glad you called.” She was breathless with joy.

“Lisa?”

Was she wrong?  She had been so sure it was Michael- but his voice sounded odd.  Maybe it was the connection.  And really, so far all he had said was her name.

“Who do you think it is?  I should kick your ass for not leaving your number with Riley.  I’ve been going out of my mind. I even had to play nice with Julia.  You have no idea…”

“No I don’t. You generally leave me out of the loop.  And I gave you my number.  Why would I leave it with Riley?  And why are you on the phone?”

What the hell was the matter with him?  He sounded oddly slow- his words were coming out…slurred. Was he drunk?  What time was it there?  Bahrain was ahead time-wise and she was pretty sure it was still night here.  Or very early morning.  A glance to her side informed her it was 3 am.  Ok, so it was mid morning there.  Too early to be drunk.

“I’m on the phone because my nurse seems to be a fan of us.”

“Well, I didn’t ask to talk to you.  I simply asked about you.”

What the hell?  Why was he not ecstatic to talk to her?

“Mike, does it matter?  I assume you heard I’m in the hospital.  And of course they won’t give you any info. You’re not next of kin, you know.”

Silence.

“Thank God for small favors.”

What the…?

“Michael?  What the flip is going on?  You sound…weird.”

A sarcastic laughter.

“Do I, now?  Gee, I wonder, why?”

“Yeah, it’s not like you almost drowned.”

“What?  Who almost drowned?”

His voice sounded bored, his tone was eerily monotonou

“I almost drowned. My phone was with me- hence me losing your number.  Why do you think I am in here?”

"Why don't you tell me?"

"What's up with you? Are you mad about that stupid picture Julia sent? You didn't really buy it, did you? Lockwood showed up out of the blue at Tom's office and I stumbled into him when he startled me. Come on, Michael. You have to know why she sent it."

More silence.

"You think this is about a picture? I don't give a damn about the picture. It's nothing but a symptom of your illness."

His words were spaced very strangely.  This was not good.  What was he medicating with?  Sadly, she had heard him like this before. 

"I have no clue what you're talking about. What have they told you?" Remembering what Grace had said it seemed that he was fed some load of bull that set him off. Initially, she had hoped Grace was lying, but he definitely was off kilter.

“Well, the way I heard it, you are in the hospital 'cause karma bit you and your abortion went wrong. I guess I should say I am glad you’re ok, - you sound ok- but right now I cannot be the bigger person I wish I was.”

Was she still dreaming?  What was he talking about?  Had she misheared him? 

“What are you talking about? Who the hell told you that?”

“Oh Lisa, Lisa... Who cares? Just funny how your lies and sins always come out.  I would’a thought you’d be smarter about covering your tracks.  I guess your little health crisis made you careless.  Why Lisa? How could you do this?  Do you hate me this much?  I didn’t want to get into this, but I’ve been asking for days.  Why would you do this? Why would you lie again?  And more than that- why would you kill our child?”

Michael had officially lost his mind.  He was not drunk.  He was on something.  He was gone from her sight for what, a couple of days, and he was back on his chemical crutches? 

Abortion?  Kill their baby?  How did he get that crazy, outrageous idea? 

He had to be kidding.

Lisa felt her pulse racing and she started feeling dizzy and nauseous.  He was not joking. He was serious. 

A dead calm took her over.  An icy chill spread through her limbs. Her whole word seemed to have been dipped into liquid nitrogen.

“Who told you this?”

Another one of his irritating, humorless giggles. “Who?  The woman I was stupid enough to dump for you, you little, faithless, murdering whore.”

Julia.

Of course.

No wonder she had been frantic when Lisa pinned her down to get the phone number.  The little legal beagle better watch out.  The next encounter would not end so well for that bitch. 

So, that was it.  Now, she was a faithless, murdering whore. Because Julia told him so.  Never mind everything they said to each other.  Never mind everything they had been through.  Never mind the memory of their dead baby and the memory of her pain and tears when he had held her in his arms, both of them crying. 

He thought she had killed their child.

The man she loved more than her life thought her capable of such betrayal. 

Lisa felt oddly removed from the woman sitting in this hospital bed, clutching a phone, talking to a stranger.  The love of her life had indeed died this year.  He had been murdered.  The drugged out shell that remained was nothing like a heartless zombie, devoid of any soul. She should have listened to him.  He had tried to warn her. 

Lisa started to utter her next words and found her throat was dry.  With all her willpower, she swallowed, lubricating her voicebox to a point where she could at least form words. 

“Julia told you I had an abortion.  She told you I killed our baby.”

Statements.  Not questions at all.

Silence.

“Well, are you denying it?” For the first time, there was some color in his voice.

He sounded as if he tried not to cry. It also sounded like he wished she would dispute the lie.  Only, he did not seem to think it was a lie.

“Deny that I killed our child?”

“Of course! Well, I have been thinking. Ah, maybe you didn’t kill our child. Actually, I don’t think you would. You’ve been after me like a bitch in heat.  I doubt you would fuck that up.  I was your latest challenge, right? And stupid, idiotic sapp that I am, I let you get to me.  But, knowing you, you were hedging your bets.” He started to laugh again.

“What a stupid expression. Hedging your bets.  Anyway… bet you let RiffRaff fuck you just to have him on hand should the deal with me fall through.  So, maybe he knocked you up.  Not like I seem to be able to.  Not after…”

Oh good.  He actually remembered their child.  Their loss.  She hoped the though pierced his heart. 

“Not after what, Michael?  Not after I lost our baby?  Or did I abort that, too?  Who knows, maybe it was Danny’s…”

Where had that come from?  Well, seems the words were born from the hellish cauldron he had lit.  All bets were off.  She wanted the wounds she inflicted to count.  She hoped he would feel all the agonies of hell he was putting her through.

“Why do you always try to hurt me?  All I’ve ever done was love you…” He was crying now.

“Love me? Are you fucking serious?  I almost died yesterday, and you tell me I had a god-damn abortion.  I have been going nuts worrying about how you must be going out of your mind not knowing what was up with me- but you were too busy listening to a woman who has every reason to hate me.  How fucking stupid and gullible are you?  And don’t think I can’t hear that you are fucking stoned.  Is that your new life?  Back on the fucking shit you fought so hard to kick?  What happened? The pain of looking at Grace getting to you?  Not enough people around to kiss your ass?”

“I'm taking my medication to help me.  I'm not some drugged out junkie.  It's all perfectly legal. You are hateful.  Stop deflecting. Just admit it and leave me be.”

“Are you happy there in denial-land? And you want what? You want me to admit that I had an abortion?”

“Yeah, tell the truth for once. I already know anyway.”

“Then why do I need to confirm it? You got your mind made up.”

"No matter if it was mine or not. How could you slaughter a child?"

How could he?  A little more than two days ago, he held her in his arms, whispered words of love to her, told her she was his world.  Now- this?

“Well, you do what you always do, then.  Mister Non-judgmental and non-prejudiced.  Pre-judge away.  You got it all figured out.  Have a nice life.  I’m done.”

“Don’t you think you owe me the truth?”

“I owe you nothing. My debt is paid.  I tried.  I tried so desperately and so hard to save you from your fate.  My worst fear was that you’d die and that I wouldn’t have a chance to show you how much I loved you.  What a fucking idiot I’ve been.  This is so 'pet-cemetary.' The worst thing is not you being dead. The worst is you not being all geh way alive. You’ve become the monster you always fought.  And the horrible irony is, you don’t even know it. You're empty. I feel so sorry for your kids- they deserve better.  Please don’t turn their love into hatred as well…”

The taste of salt startled her.  The tears had not been noticed.  They were nothing compared to the pain ripping her apart.  A spoon with a razor sharp edge was scooping out her heart.  She was being gutted.  No, she could not allow this.  She would not end up as empty as he was. 

“Just tell me it’s not true- tell me you wouldn’t do this…tell me you love me…I need to hear you say it's not true...”  He sounded like a small child.  Crying, wounded, hopeless, and yet waiting to be told that everything was ok. 

Well, it was not up to her to make his world whole anymore.  He had chosen lies, betrayal, fake friends, and drugs over her.  Over hope and love. 

“Good bye, Michael. Part of me will always love you.  I wish you could have trusted me.  Just this once…”

“Lisa….” His voice was a whisper and she clicked the phone off before she’d have a chance to change her mind.  Thank God, she did not have his number.

There was no way back.  She had to go cold turkey.  She had her children and her life.  She’d be just fine.

Just fine without him.

Just fine without the only source of light that had ever provided light and life to her planet. 

The sobs came out of nowhere.  Her shaking hands dropped the phone and Karen came running into the room.  The world drowned in red hot pain and streams of tears.  At some point, Lisa realized the nurses pushed some more sedatives and when the wave of numbness pulled her under, she did not attempt to fight.  She craved the silence, craved the pleasant oblivion cradling her with comforting wings that closed around her like an angel of salvation.

Two weeks later Lisa stared at her refection in the mirror. How had she managed to lose so much weight?  Must be the horrible hospital food.  Finally, after weeks of running around like a wounded animal she put on some make-up.

Alecia pushed the door to the bedroom open.  Well, to be more exact, Lish pushed the door open with her butt, then lugged the suitcase into the room, huffing and puffing.

“You better not pack anything. This thing is already heavy as shit.”

“Well, no-one told you to play hero.  I was more than capable getting it down myself.”

“Ok- down, Superwoman!  You’re supposed to take it easy.”

“I can resume all activities.” 

That was a lie.  She could resume almost all activities.  Lifting heavy objects was not among things she had been cleared for.  Minor details.

“So, what’s so urgent in London again?”

“Do you regret coming with me?”

“Hell no.  Your friend the Duchess sounds like a hoot.  I wanna meet her.  I like to hob-nob.”

“I’m not going to hob-nob.  I’m going to rest.”

Alecia eyes her and punched her playfully in the arm. 

“Sure you are.  You’re going to kick ass.”

“Well, that, too.  I was gonna leave it alone.  I told you.  But then you had to open your mouth and talk sense into me.”

“Well, I aim to please.  And you haven’t made sense in weeks.   Till you suddenly decided he was not going to get away with being an ass.  Which took me by surprise…”

True.  But hey, it was a women’s prerogative to change her mind.  Lisa had gotten word that Michael was going to be in London.  And suddenly, after fourteen torturous days of telling herself she could manage life without him, she had been grasped by an intense anger that shook her out of her cocoon of numbness. 

He was not going to get away with this.  He was not going to fuck up his life and drag her down with him.  He was not going to make his children orphans.  Not if she could help it.

The call from Paris the previous night had been the last straw.

“Lisa, I’m so worried about my Daddy.  He has been sick.  He doesn’t laugh.  He doesn’t sing.  I hear him crying.  We’re not allowed to talk about you, but I know he laughed and smiled and sang when you were around.  Can you call him? Can you make him better?”

The little girl had about broken her heart. 

Well, no, she would not talk to him.  She would do one better.  She would kick his ass out of this cooped up state of denial.  Lisa was ready to shake Michael’s life so hard it either would wake him up or sink him completely.  It was time to hold the mirror up to him and to find out if he was strong enough to face the image staring back.

The question was, would he be able to face the truth?  It didn’t matter.  Lisa had decided that, no matter how deep her anger ran, and how much the wound he inflicted continued to bleed, the love she held for him was too deeply rooted and too all consuming to allow her to turn a blind eye.

She was ready.  Ready to roll the barrel in this crazy Russian Roulette one more time. 

( to be continued)

©2011 Erika B Michaels. All Rights Reserved. This story is a work of fiction. Any names, places, and other identifying features are used in a fictional manner, for entertainment purposes only, and are in no way representative of actual events. This work may not be reproduced, copied, transmitted, or stored without expressed written permission by Erika B Michaels. All photos and images, mentioned songs or song titles are copyright their creators.

 

The Difference is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License