To Have and To Hold- Chapters 1-4

TO HAVE AND TO HOLD

AUTHORS NOTE:

Welcome to this story I started a while back. It takes place in 1996- as Michael marries Debbie Rowe in Australia.  In my version of events, he has a friend flown in to help him through this time. This is a work of fiction, therefore I do not claim any of these events are even close of what happened.  

1

 

The turbulence startled her from her dream.  Sitting up too fast, it took a minute to orient herself as she fought a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.  The water in her glass rippled in concentric circles, and it reminded her of throwing small rocks into the pond at Graceland as a child.  Checking her watch, she discovered she had only slept an hour. Her eyes scanned the interior of the plane, and appreciated how once again the peaceful darkness was wrapped around her like a soft blanket.  The pilot obviously had cleared the bad weather zone they had bumped into earlier.  The monotone humming of the engine provided the only soundtrack to her thoughts now.  Just seconds earlier, she had imagined hearing screams.  It must have been the dream after all.  Her inner ears had obviously tricked her while she slept, her dreams all revolving around plummeting into the depths of a never ending black abyss.  The strange thing was that that darkness at the center reminded her very much of the dark center of a pair of eyes she could not banish from her mind. 

Three more hours to go. 

Three hours before having to face him.

Three hours to berate herself for the decision to take this plane in the first place. 

Three hours to wonder if today’s events would have changed him. 

Three hours left to tell him to go to hell, turn around, and fly back halfway around the world to get home.  Get to safety.

“Miss Presley?  Are you ok?  Sorry about the rough ride- the Captain said he would try to go a bit higher to get over the weather front.”

She cleared her throat. “It’s ok, thank you.  I have been on my share of rough rides, believe me.”  The forced smile left her lips as soon as the attendant turned toward the front of the cabin.

Rough rides.  Yeah, she was a veteran.  The roughest ride had no doubt been her marriage to Michael.  The marriage that had started with such high hopes but had crash landed into a crater of despair. 

“What would you say if I asked you to marry me?”

“I would say yes.”

The simplest conversation to seal the most complicated of deals.  Her pact with the devil presented by a man she had once thought to be an angel sent to rescue her.  The funny part was that at times she had been convinced of her calling to rescue him.  He was beleaguered by those ridiculous charges and hounded by the police and the media in a modern day witch hunt.  He had teetered at the verge of breaking down, at the very edge of self-destruction, and she thought it was her mission, and hers alone, to pull him back from the gulf of despair he faced.  His trust had been destroyed, his innocence blundered, and yet for some reason he continued to trust her.  He clung to that, and to her, like a nearly drowning survivor of a massive ship wreck clings to driftwood.  Only, the driftwood usually did not get a big head from thinking it was sent by some higher power.  It was just there in some random coincidence exactly at the time of need.  Was that it? Had she just been a convenient object to be used by him and to be thrown back into the raging waters once he stepped on safe land?  The thought hurt and brought tears to her eyes.  And here she thought he could not hurt her anymore.

But no, it was not all his fault.  The role of savior had been deliciously sweet and fulfilling.  Finally a purpose for a rebel who so often could not pinpoint her cause.  She had relished the role of protector.  And protecting him had not sufficed, no, she also had to make sure he was committed to making changes.  She had basically coerced him to go into rehab.  When he kept avoiding what needed to be done, she used a bluff and coldly threatened to break off all contact.  When he delayed his admission to the clinic, she refused to take his calls, putting all her chips on one number on this risky roulette.  Elizabeth Taylor even called at one point, begging her to relent, informing her that Michael had been reduced to a sobbing mess in the face of her ‘cold and abusive behavior’ as the old bitty had termed it.  Lisa termed it ‘tough love,’ and was proven right when Michael presented for his intake at the clinic only hours later.  Her beliefs of what was right for him had been validated and she had won. That time.

After the ordeal of the strip search, she was his rock, never wavering, never leaving his side.  She sat with him as he ranted and cried, held him when he was shaken by devastating nightmares.  And yet, after all that, after everything they had been through, he chose to disregard her warnings, chose to listen to those who had abandoned him before, and stubbornly refused to listen to common sense.  And worst of all, he had been unrelenting in his quest to rush through the process of building his idea of the perfect family. Of course, it was not all him.  Her mother had found the weak spot in Lisa’s armor and had inserted her seed of doubt, watering and nurturing it ever so subtly in her quest to turn her daughter against her famous husband.

“You think he neglects you now?  Just wait what he will do when you do give him a child.  Look what your father did to me.  I was nothing to him anymore, Lisa Marie.  I was the mother of his most prized jewel, and nothing more.  Our marriage seized to exist.  Is that what you want?  And what if you guys split up?  Do you think your child would know one moment of peace and joy?  You think you had no privacy?  What chance does a Presley-Jackson offspring have?  How would you buy this child normalcy? How can you do that to another human being?”

Well, as it turned out, it had been a moot point anyway.  She did not get pregnant.  Not after she miscarried that first time.  Michael had been elated at the news of her pregnancy so soon after they started sleeping together.  Mr. Innocence had not been all that innocent after all.  Neither had he been particularly subtle about his intentions.  He had made his sexual interest in her known from their first meeting on, albeit in his very special, sweet way.   At first she had been floored when she realized he was actually flirting with her.  It had been so surprising, so totally not in keeping with the childlike image he had crafted.  Well, there was nothing childlike in the way he fucked her.  He had left her breathless and at the verge of passing out.  Lisa liked her encounters to be interesting and stimulating on a physical as well as intellectual basis, and Michael completely stole her soul. Her heart had not been far behind.  And her body became addicted to him so fast she never even noticed it happening.

Legally still married to Danny, she sped up her divorce after she discovered her pregnancy.  Michael was frantic that word about the baby would get out and upset his mother.  His plans for a huge, white wedding changed to the quickie ceremony in the Dominican Republic.   Lisa found his urgency and their elopement to be very romantic.  All she cared about were their plans to spend the rest of their lives as partners, lovers, and parents, and she did not care how that came about. Her mother, of course, had been horrified when the news broke, but publicly was powerless, issuing some bull shit statement about supporting anything Lisa did.  If only!  The only thing she had eve supported was Lisa’s divorce from Michael- a national holiday in Priscilla’s datebook by now.

Lisa begged Michael to keep the news about the baby to themselves, and he was excited to agree.  They so reveled in their beautiful, private secret and joy.  Then that horrible morning dawned, the morning she woke to unimaginable pain and soaked sheets surrounding her, drowning her body and soul in unimaginable agony.  By now, the physical pain was gone, but the intense sadness rose once more, forcing tears from Lisa, which she stubbornly wiped away.

No, none of that! Stop it.  Don’t think about it anymore.  It was for the best.

And now, now she was on her way to a wedding.  Well, to be honest, she was not going to the wedding, exactly.  After all she had not been invited to the wedding, only to the wedding night.

2

“I do.”

Two such simple words- hard to believe they carried such weight.  This was not the first time he had spoken them, so why was this so difficult?  What a world of difference between his mood and expectations for the future when comparing his first wedding to this current disaster.  Then, he had been full of hope, full of enthusiasm, and full of love.  With every fiber of his being had had looked forward to not only to the wedding night and making love to Lisa as his wife for the first time, but also to his promising and golden future with her and their family. Now, he was signing a business contract in an effort to satisfy expectations that were not his own.  He dreaded having to share his name and his life with the woman next to him, whom he had long respected as friend, but whom he had no sexual interest in whatsoever.  The wedding night was out, therefore.  Unless… No, there was no unless. He would find a loophole.  Glancing over at her, he wondered about her overly happy smile and glow.  She knew this was all about legitimizing the gift she was giving him- his child, so why was she going overboard with all these expressions of love and happiness? 

His eyes returned to his focal point on the floor as he studied the design of the carpet.  His voice had been barely audible as the vows were forced from dry lips.  His throat was on fire, and he felt dizzy.  It seemed that every cell in his body revolted and protested this current predicament.  The blood pounding in his ears, he was not sure he heard her part of the vows.  Not that he cared to.  The words were devoid of any personal meaning.  Well, no, there was something important connected to them as they guaranteed him full legal rights to his child, his mothers’ approval, and an ongoing funding stream from his benefactor.  The drawback was that once again the media would go ape-shit with digging into his private life.  Surely, no one would believe this quickie wedding.  Well, at least he was consistent.  This was not the first quickie wedding , so the speed of the nuptials was not too much of a stretch of the imagination.  His choice of bride might require some bending of the mind, but hey, surely people married their friend and nurses who promised to carry a child for them all the time.  His choice could not be that unconventional, could it? So, other than being married to someone he did not love as a husband should love his wife, everything was just peachy.

The hammering of the headache became overwhelming and intrusive.  He lifted his head to ensure it was really over and that he had survived. One might think this was a terrorist attack or an execution, not a wedding.  Kind of hard to duck for cover when you are the one with your neck in the noose.

“Mr. Jackson, you may kiss your bride.”

Do I have to?  He said ‘may,’ so it should be optional…

Well, really, it was not that he minded kissing Debbie- on her cheek.  He really cared for her, after all.  She smiled at him hesitantly and raised her face to him.  Michael’s cold lips found hers and he give her a chaste peck, almost missing her mouth.

An image of ruby red lips flashed before his eyes. Red, soft, moist lips, slightly parted, anxiously awaiting his mouth.  He tasted their sweetness, felt their texture as he let his mouth meet them in his mind’s eye.  He remembered the feeling of her velvet tongue, engaging his in snakelike play.  He heard her moans mixing with his, and saw slate blue eyes almost fully hidden by heavy lids, begging him to take her…

Michael had to shake his head to dislodge the image.  He had to focus, had to bring this night to an end so he could go on with his life.  This was just a minor inconvenience- he could still achieve everything he had planned for.

“Michael?”

“I’m sorry; did you say something, Debbie?”

“Are you crying?”

Was he?  He had not noticed the tear sliding down his cheek until now.

“Awe, you are so special, Michael.  I love how you don’t hide your feelings and just let them show.”

Yeah, he showed his feelings, alright.

The justice of the peace congratulated them, shook their hands, asked for an autograph, and then finally left the hotel suite.  Michael wondered if he was the only person who had to sign autographs at both his weddings.  They stood around in awkward silence for what seemed like an eternity.  Finally, Debbie sat down and chowed down on the cold spread he had ordered.  How could she eat?  Was she not upset the least bit to be part of this sham? Right now, the thought of food only served to make him nauseous. He did pour himself a glass of wine, though.  He sat by the window, staring out into the clear night.  This whole scene seemed surreal.  This was his wedding- and here he was now, married to the mother of his child.  His own special fairy tale had come true.  Here he was with his wife and his child, ready to be part of the family he had always wanted.  Too bad the cast of characters was all wrong.  Well, he aimed to correct that in a while.  She should be landing shortly, and since all of this was really Lisa’s fault, he would leave it up to her to make sure his wedding night was a success after all.  Of course, before that, he had to convince her that it was time to move their relationship from friendship back to lovers.  He really had tried to give the friendship thing a try, he honestly had.  However, he normally did not want to tear his friends’ clothes off as soon as he was in the same room with them.  He also normally did not lie in his bed at night, fantasizing about said friend, missing her kisses and her touch, rubbing himself, until her name was driven from him with the almost painful ejaculation.  Leaving him alone and miserable, missing her as his heartbeat send silent prayers to the universe in Morse code . L-I-S-A

Was she heading his rescue call?  Michael was still not sure she actually was on that damn plane.  His people had assured him she was, and his staff generally knew better than to lie to him.  Still, he would not put it past Lisa to have paid double what he had forked out just to ensure she tricked him into believing she was actually compliant with his request.  He had learned the hard way to never underestimate her. Part of him was still dumbfounded she had agreed to his proposition to come all the way to Australia in the first place.  Well, maybe “agreed” was too strong a term.  She had blown up when he first asked her.

“Why the hell would I do that, Michael? We barely have gotten back to being friends and now you want me to attend your wedding? Will I get to catch the bouquet from the blushing bride? Do I get to make the first toast?”

“I did not say I wanted you to attend my wedding.  I said, come and spend time with me in Australia.”

“Where you will get married.”

“Where we can get to know each other again.”

“After you get married.”

“Can you stop saying that?”

He gulped down another glass of the ruby red divine liquid.  Who had called whom that day he had asked her for a meeting?  They day she agreed to be friends again. The day his life started over.  Did it matter?  All that mattered was that he had been successful in re-establishing contact.  They were starting to be friends again, but it became more and more difficult to ignore how much had had missed her as a lover and partner.  The sexual tension between them had started to build like radiation in a breached nuclear reactor.  He was not sure how much longer he would be able to contain his mounting lust for her.  Also, he was starting to suspect his advances would not be totally unwelcome.  Sure, she would blame him afterwards, but her reproaches after the fact were probably well worth what came before.

“Michael, why don’t I just stay here tonight?”

His eyes flew back to Debbie who was licking her fingers clean of the remnants of some kind of sticky pastry she had packed into her mouth.  Was she still here?  Did she just say she wanted to stay?  Now, this was not going the way he had planned at all. His patience for unplanned events had just run out.

“Uhm… I thought you said you would be more comfortable in a private home surrounded by friends?”

“Well, we are friends, and it would be so nice to be cuddled up to you tonight.  I am sure this little guy would love it, too.” She patted her stomach. 

A smile stole onto his face and he walked over and rested his hand on her belly, feeling his little guy kick against his hand.  Never in a million years would he be sick of this heavenly feeling.

“Whow, he really knows you, Michael.  He only kicks like that when you are around.”

For one second his resolve softened.  Maybe it would be so much healthier to be around Debbie and the baby tonight.  He had no guarantee Lisa was even coming and more than likely, she was loaded for bear, and they would spend the entire time fighting.  Of course, by now, he even missed his fights with her.  Or maybe he missed what happened after the fights.  Parts of his anatomy stirred awake and pushed away any thoughts of softening and letting Debbie stay.  He convinced her she needed her rest and that it was better if she was ushered away to an environment where paparazzi were less likely to pounce on her. 

“Michael, are you expecting anyone? You have been checking your watch like every two seconds.  And please, don’t drink so much.  You have not eaten and it’s not good for you.”

Oh great, he just bought himself another mother! Why did women always become little mother hens as soon as that ring was on their finger?  Pouring another glass, he chose to ignore her question and her advice. 

The phone rang and made him jump out of his chair.  Debbie seemed to have developed some secret ninja skills and beat him to the phone.  She answered, looked puzzled, paused a second, then finally handed him the phone.

“For you.  Something about a plane.”

He snatched the receiver from her and turned his back.

“Yes? This is Michael Jackson.” How come his voice sounded so unnatural?

“Mister Jackson, sir, the plane has landed.  We are just checking if the plans are still the same.”

“Did you get the …” He glanced over his shoulder at Debbie who did not even attempt to conceal her curiosity.  “Do you mind, Debbie? Can I have some space here?” His tone was sharper than he normally used with her, and she flushed, but backed away and retreated to the couch at the other end of the room. He fought back the twinge of guilt.

“Um…the package?”  He cleared his throat.

“If you refer to the passenger, yes, sir, she is on board.”

“What is the…condition?” Another glance at Debbie who now unsuccessfully pretended to be disinterested in the conversation.

“Well, she seems tired and a bit annoyed, but really she has not talked to us much, so I would assume she is just fine.”

Hm, that could mean any number of things since Lisa was sullen and quiet by default with people she did not know.  Really, he knew she was very insecure, but instead of being pleasant about it, she came across as harsh and arrogant.  Possibly, she was just tired from the flight.  He chose to go with option “tired” as option “annoyed” raised his anxiety.

“Ok, so yeah, the plans are the same.  Back of the hotel and through the kitchen.  Don’t let her-.. I mean, don’t bring it in and do not sign in.  Just let me know after it is delivered safely.” Lisa would just love to be referred to as a package, but he really wanted to avoid Debbie catching on.  There was no love lost between the current and previous Mrs. Jackson, and he did not feel like dealing with more female drama than necessary tonight,- or ever.

After he hung, up he sauntered back to the table, feigning an image of total innocence and relaxation.  Inside, he felt like a loaded spring.  He tried to sit back down, but his nerves got the best of him, and he surrendered to the urge to move. Debbie’s eyes followed him as he paced like a panther behind bars.  Wisely, she did not say anything and just followed him with sad eyes, while she continued to eat cake.

“So, Debbie, the limo will come and get you in a minute.  The team will lead you out back through the kitchen; I hope that’s ok with you.”

“I really don’t see why I can’t just stay here and avoid the hassle, Michael. It seems like you want to get rid of me already.”

Very perceptive of her.

“Well, no, I just want you to get some rest. And I will be up all night, working hard, you know...”

“Why are you blushing?”

He was certainly not blushing.  And it was not induced by the word hard…

“I don’t know, the wine, maybe?  You were probably right about it not being good for me.  So, I tell you what: I will get some food right after you leave, ok?  And I will call you first thing in the morning.  How’s that?” He managed a sweet smile and hoped it did not come across as too fake.

“Are you sure you won’t be lonely?”

Not if things went right for once.

“Don’t worry about me.” He approached her and gave her a peck on the cheek. “You are so sweet, really.  And I love you for it.  You know that, Debbie.”

Her eyes softened and he thought he saw a tear.  She was such a softy! He liked that about her, she was easygoing and caring, very unlike the little wild cat he was married to before.  Women should not want to fight all the time; they should be soft and pliant.  Then again, why was he so intent to shove this paragon of womanhood out of his room to get ready for the tornado that would leave him in knots no doubt…in one way or another.

3

With eyes cauterized by fatigue, Lisa watched the city lights dance and twinkle, reminding her of a sea of Christmas lights despite the fact that it was slightly too early for Christmas.  And of course, Christmas lights seamlessly triggered memories of Neverland Ranch lit up so brightly it could have been seen from space without a telescope. Visions of Michael running around with Riley and Ben like a child, showing off the newest light effects twirled on the movie screen of her mind.  Her eyes closed, forcing her brain to recognize that the current illumination had nothing to do with Michael.  When her lids once again opened, begging the question of who had inserted the sandpaper that what would account for the scratchy, grainy sensation, it took a moment to focus on the kaleidoscope blooming before her.  The city sky was illuminated, causing her for one second to question if it was indeed night.  Her body felt drained and she had given up attempts to figure out what time it was at home in Los Angeles.  Her body rhythm was all out of whack anyway when she traveled, and it probably would take her at least a week to adjust to the time change.  With any luck, she would be back in LA in no time at all, never having to deal with combating jet-lag. 

Unless he convinced her to stay.

No, if she held her ground, there was no way he would accomplish this feat.  Plus, Michael never put up too much of a fight once she made up her mind to go.  If he even deemed it worthy to waste any energy on her...  Just like when she had filed for divorce, expecting him to come after her with pleas to make it work like he had done before, when she had merely threatened to split.  However, that time, he had called her bluff.  Or maybe he had just been relieved she broke things off and ended the endless and painful cycle of fights, tearing at each other with words or self-defeating actions, quick, torrential make up sex, and more fights.  They both had been miserable.  She suffered immensely from the physical and emotional chasm separating them.  He reacted to her outburst by hiding in his mind or in other countries.  When they were together, the tension had been unbearable, too.  With all her heart, Lisa had wanted to make the changes necessary to save the marriage from destruction.  But every time they shared space, she became a prisoner of her temper, her loneliness, and her anger.  Her hopes had been dashed, and while her heart cried out for him to simply stay, love her, and hold her, her words had pushed him away further every single time, until they did not seem to share the same universe anymore.  Why had it been so impossible to make him see how much she had loved and needed him?  Good thing she was over all that now.

Which explains you hopping on that plane at the drop of hat.

It was not at the drop of a hat.  I thought about it- for all of the five minutes it took to throw some clothes into a bag.

She really had to get a grip.  Surely it was not healthy to engage in those endless conversations and arguments with herself.  She wished she had someone to process this confusing mixture of feelings and thoughts with.  But, like all good junkies, she had hidden her obsession, projecting the image of utter recovery, and sparkling sanity.  The last thing she had needed was to hear her own doubts reflected back to her by her nearest and dearest.  Her mother would have reamed her out and probably would have had her institutionalized for danger to self and others.  Even Janet might have asked if she had finally lost her mind.  Janet was furious with her brother right now for his marriage plans.  Not too long ago, she had been just as exasperated with Lisa for her stubborn stance.  Finally, raising the white flag, Janet announced she would once and for all withdraw from the position of top lobbyist for a Jackson-Presley reunion.  She also might have added something about “two lunatics who deserve the misery they inflict on themselves and each other.”  Who needed enemies with such friends and relatives?  Katherine, her former mother in law, had been the only kind and supportive shoulder to cry on.  She had silently sat in her Encino home, sadly shaking her head, listening to Lisa rants, and assuring her that she had no idea what had happened to her son lately.  However, Katherine did let it slide that she had thought it ‘atrocious’ that Michael did not plan on marrying Debbie.  How about finding it atrocious that he had knocked her up in the first place?

“For heaven’s sake, Lisa, it’s not like I slept with her.”

How comforting to know that.  And since he never lied or bent the truth she was sure she could take this to the bank.  Like she really needed to have images of Michael caught in the throes of passion with Debbie.  No, seriously, the image was so unreal it almost became funny.  Part of her continued to wonder why he brought it up if it was not indeed what had been going down. Still, those had been the words when he had called her to let her know firsthand that he was about to be a father.  Interestingly, she had managed to wish him well in a remarkably indifferent voice, despite fighting the urge to pull over and throw up.  He had no doubt noticed her frozen tone as he had asked if she was being sarcastic. No, she really wanted the man she desperately loved to have a child with his buddy, the fertile nurse.  She assured him she was dead serious and then, despite her best efforts, could not suppress the little comment that she was so happy Debbie finally got what she had wanted all along.  As did Michael, obviously.  She really hoped he felt all warm and snug when he was up all night, feeling sorry for himself, missing the physical comfort of her body next to his.  Well, she was done being his valium.  He could very well invest in a top notch cuddling blanket.  Or maybe one of those disgusting fake pussies.  Or, even grosser, go get it on with Nursey.  But, more likely, and much easier to imagine, he would just revel in being alone, perfecting his victim act. 

As often as Michael had emotionally sequestered himself from her during their marriage, he did not handle being alone well.  He also did not handle being in a relationship well, so she really did not know what he wanted.  Maybe this upcoming arrangement would be perfect for him.  He had assured her he was marrying Debbie in name only, and that he never meant for her to be more than a surrogate, but that he felt he owed it to his mother to make things right.  And marrying someone you did not love obviously had just fallen into the category of ‘doing the right thing.”  

When he explained all this, Michael had looked at her as if it made all the sense in the world, showing that at least he was convinced of the logic and righteousness of his actions.  He had asked her for a meeting and she reluctantly had agreed.  They decided to meet on neutral ground in one of Liz’s apartments in Century City.  She had refused to set even one toe onto Neverland and also did not want him in her house anymore.  There were enough reminders of him lingering in every room, she did not need his physical presence to reinforce his absence from her life.  He seemed surprised at not being invited to their former home, so Lisa stated she wanted to avoid confusing the kids.  Since his apartments downtown and in Century City also held too many memories, it appeared for a couple of minutes as if the get-together was not going to happen.  Once again, it seemed that everything between them was a power struggle or a business-like negotiation. 

Seeing him again was painful and thrilling at the same time.  It also scared the shit out of her.  For one second, he almost seemed like a stranger and yet she was familiar with every move of his body, his scent, his expressions, his voice, and the way he looked at her.  She had told herself that she was over him, that their connection had been severed and that she was not the least bit attracted to him any longer.  That worked all the way up the elevator and down the hall. Then he had opened the door, wearing black jeans and a black shirt, taking her breath away.  Michael stood in the space between the wall and the door, insecure, almost as if he had not expected her, his arm across the door, barring the way. Initially he stared at her, his dark eyes taking in her face, her hair, the dropping to her chest before he caught himself and lowered his gaze.

“Are you gonna let me in?” The trembling in her voice had nothing whatsoever to do with experiencing his appraising gaze like a scalding touch on her skin.

He had blinked and blushed, embarrassed at having been caught staring at her.  When he stepped to the side, he still did not open the door wider, but instead forced her body to almost brush against his.  She felt his heat and a tingle went through her.  The slight contact sent her nerves into song like the breeze bringing song to the pipes of a fragile wind-chime. She told herself that she had only been angry at his childish behavior, which totally accounted for the tension she felt like a force field extending between them.

They had exchanged forced pleasantries, and Michael offered her drink, no doubt to somehow bridge the awkward and stiff atmosphere paralyzing them.  She wanted alcohol so badly, but she was well aware that water or a soft drink was the healthy, and the safe, choice.  So, she asked if he had Vodka.  So much for healthy –or safe- choices.  Sanity was highly overrated.

“Isn’t it a bit early to drink?” Ah, he dropped his polite mask and the familiar condescending manner shone through.

“Funny, ‘cause my father is dead, my mother is not here, and I am not married- so I guess I get to make my own decisions right now.”

The time for pleasantries obviously had expired.

“You might want to call the Church to check before I get it for you…just in case.”  Michael had already turned as he mumbled the words under his breath, pouring two glasses of vodka.

“You don’t drink Vodka.” She ignored his remark, deciding he was trying to get to her and she would not let him succeed.

“I do today.”

“Well, I guess you are a big boy now, too, Michael.  Did you grow up finally?”

His eyes met hers as he put down the bottle.

“I’ve been a big boy for a while now, Lisa.  Or so you used to tell me.”

The double meaning could not be missed, neither could the tensions buzzing around them like a physical presence.  Michael made sure his eyes let her know that he remembered how he had taught her body to adjust to his big boy. Surely, the fluttering in her abdomen was not anything but anger.  And it meant nothing that it radiated to other regions not connected to physiological reactions to anger.

“Don’t flatter yourself.  By the way, I used to tell all kinds of lies.  I was told I suffered from a brain tumor.  I’m all better now.”

“Hm, odd.  ‘Cause you don’t look all better. I was wondering why you look so…so stressed. Do I stress you out, Lisa?” His head was cocked to one side and an arrogant smile played on his lips.

“Did you ask me here to remind me how glad I am we are divorced?  Too kind of you, but I had not forgotten.”

He held the glass out to her, avoiding bridging the gap between them, forcing her to step closer.  She doubted one drink would make this disaster more bearable and was tempted to reach for the bottle.  Instead, her fingers reached for the cold crystal, and he managed to rub his thumb over her fingers in what might have been an accidental contact. Only, Michael’s every breath was deliberate, his every movement planned and premeditated.  Electric currents shot up her arm and down her chest, causing her nipples to tighten.  Why did she feel cold and hot at the same time?  Maybe she had a fever.  Or a severe case of denial.

“Jeez! Are you that thirsty?”  If he kept up his condescending asshole routine, she doubted she would be able to successfully restrain herself from wrapping her hands around his neck. 

His sexy, sensual neck. 

Dammit!

She stared down at her empty glass, amazed she had not even realized she had gulped down the clear liquid like water. 

Two drinks later, it was almost tolerable to be in the same room with him. That was until he dropped his bomb:  In detached manner, using a tone that seemed rehearsed, coupled with detached and almost clinical language, he informed her of his plans to marry Debbie.  Lisa was not sure how she was supposed to react, so she got up and refilled her glass once more.  Which was when he jumped into her stunned silence laying out his reasons for the marriage which sounded like a business plan instead of the loving union of two people intending to share their lives.  He also told her he wanted her to hear it from him to lessen the shock.  The vodka being poured down her throat barely registered.  She was so numb she doubted drain cleaner would have made her blink.  Michael looked at her like an actor waiting for his partner to jump in with her lines.  The problem was her script had obviously been lost in the mail.  Or lost in translation from Michael-logic to reality.

“Will you say something?” 

What was he expecting?  Joy? Happiness?  Well-wishes?  Absolution?

“Congratulations?”

He jumped up from the couch and started pacing. 

“Are you deaf, I just told you what all this was about.  Don’t act like….like…?” He rakes his hands through his hair.

“Like what?  Like I don’t give a flying fuck?  I don’t.”

“I am trying to be nice here, Lisa, and you, as usual are acting like a spoiled bitch.”

“Well, lucky for you, this bitch is out of your life.  You don’t owe me an explanation. Soon, you will have a new wife to insult.  So, go fuck yourself- and her.”

Lisa rose and put down the glass. 

He stopped dead in his tracks, watching her pick up her purse.

“You’re not leaving.”

The tone was an interesting conglomerate of question and command.

“I think I heard enough.  You are getting married to the mother of your child.  I am thrilled.  Really.  Ecstatic.  You two deserve each other.  Let me know when you register for China and l’ll make sure to send a chamber pot.”  The sharp turn toward the door was messed up by the waves of vodka sloshing through her veins, throwing her off balance.  Michael reached out to steady her and his palm burned through her blouse and into her skin.  Lisa tried to pull back her arm which sent her crashing against him as he stubbornly refused to surrender his grip. 

“You’re drunk. You can’t drive.”

She felt his breath on the top of her hair and the heat of his body against hers.  Panic started to set in and fought for control with the scorching flames setting her body ablaze. 

“I get a cab.” Her voice sounded strained and husky.

Michael pulled her closer.  He stepped into her already encroached space, bringing her stomach in contact with his midsection, leaving no doubt that she also had started to affect him.

“Let me go.  And you might want to go take a cold shower or visit your blushing bride.  Obviously, there is no need to be chaste till the wedding night.”

“I don’t want to take anything to my future wife.”

“Hire a hooker.  You have the money.  Like I said, I am done helping you out with your, um… little problem there.”

Her gaze lowered to the bulge that was anything but little at the moment. Michael stepped away and she used the advantage to head for the door.  All she had to do was turn the knob and get the hell out- the promise of freedom was right there, waiting for her to take it.  With unexpected hesitation she reached for the shiny, cold material, suddenly bereft of her resolve to leave.

“I don’t want you to go.  I don’t want you to be out of my life.” His voice was barely audible but exerted a pull stronger than any display of power ever could have.

Tears started to rise, burning her throat, making her tremble with the effort to keep them contained.

“You could have fooled me.  You had no problems when I left last time.”

“I never wanted you to leave then, either.  But I did not know how to stop you.”

“Asking me to stay might have been a start.”

“I’m asking you to stay now.”

She sensed him behind her, never having heard his approaching steps.  He was still her most dangerous natural threat, a born predator, ready to pounce, robbing her of her sanity. He lowered his head and kissed her hair, then let his lips sink lower still, keeping his face right by her nape, as if unsure if he could risk kissing her there.  She felt him inhale deeply, before he buried his face in the crook of her neck, sending the most thrilling of sensations through her. 

Robbed of any voluntary action, she reached back and held his head to her as she offered her neck to him, enjoying the tingling buzz spreading through her body.  Lisa turned and faced him again. Her face was raised to his.  Michael changed the angle of his head, his mouth lingering above hers. She smelled the cinnamon from his ever present chewing gum. 

“Michael…” She observed him licking his lips, chewing on his bottom lip for a second.

“Yeah?”

“We can’t do this.” She wanted nothing more than have him reach out and prove that yes, they could easily do this.  Instead, he took several steps back.  There he was again, backing off when all she needed him to do was to keep up the pressure and convince her that they would and could do whatever they wanted. 

He cleared his throat and turned away from her.

“You’re right. I apologize.”  She felt like slapping him for the formal tone he used, even as she knew from the sound of his voice that he was fighting for self-control. Why was he only listening when she really, really wanted him to ignore her?

She had left that day and was sure that she had just had the confirmation that their relationship was over for good.  Michael and Debbie were about to have a baby.  And, to top it off, he had agreed to marry her.  This was her green light to move on.  The only problem was that Michael seemed to have decided he did not really want her to move on too much.  He started to send her a dozen of her favorite flowers every day.  When she thought he had tired of her lack of response, the balloon bouquets that resembled the ones she used to send to him started to arrive, containing little messages taken from his songs, reflecting aspects of their relationship.  The fragile layer of ice around her heart started be in serious peril of melting away.

“What are you trying to achieve here?” She finally had given in and called the number he had sent along with one of the messages.

“I want you to stop being mad at me.”

“Michael, people are mad when others do not return tools they borrow.  Wives get mad when husbands do not put down the toilet seat.  I am not mad.  Being mad doesn’t capture what I feel at all.”

“I never left up the toilet seat.”

She had to laugh at the pouting tone he used. His tendency to take her words literally never failed to astound her.

“I miss you laughter.” His voice unleaded a barrage of butterflies in her stomach.

No, no, no! He was not getting to her.

“Michael..stop it.  And stop it with the flowers and the presents.  We are divorced.”

“So? Divorced people can be friends.  I miss my friend.”

She closed her eyes.  His words reflected the gaping hole in her life…and in her heart.  He went right for the jugular of her most intense loss: Michael her friend: The man who let her in on his secret word, baring his soul, letting her be his rock even as his mere presence stabilized her core.

“I’m not sure we can be friends.” Someone had to hold steady and defend the falling stronghold she had walled herself in behind.

“I can’t stand it, I am so alone, Lise.  You are the only person who has ever been able to understand me.”

“I thought Debbie was in that role now.” Her eyes closed with the effort to remain stoical.

“I thought she was, but she is all excited about us getting married now.  I mean, she knew she was just supposed to have the baby.  I am so upset about all of this- and she is- happy?  I mean, how do I know it wasn’t her who tipped off the tabloids?”

“I guess you have to trust her.”

“I don’t.  I can’t.” 

He had sounded so utterly lost and so alone.  How in the world could she abandon him? 

So, the phone conversations started up again.  And before long, he had invited her to fly out to Sidney.  Initially, it had seemed like a joke, and then it offered the unique chance to piss off Debbie.  Her childish, impulsive side whispered that it would serve the new bride right to have the ex-wife come in and hold Michael’s hand, even as her newly established mature side told her this was an impossible plan and a sure recipe for disaster.  Still, Michael told her he needed her, so, as his friend, was it not her responsibility to ease his pain?  If nothing else, this would be a perfect opportunity to once and for all clear up their relationship and prove that all she felt for him was friendship.

Amazing what we can do when we start to believe our own lies and defenses.

The car stopped and Lisa was almost relieved that her journey was almost over.  The door was opened for her.

“Miss?  We are here. I will get you in, then we will bring your luggage up later.”

What did he mean, he would bring her in?  Last time she checked she was still able to walk. She looked outside and was floored when she noticed that instead of the bright front entrance welcoming her, she was greeted by a side alley and by what seemed to be a kitchen entry.

The driver noticed her raised eyebrow and clarified, “Mister Jackson would like you to come through the kitchen entrance to avoid detection.”

Avoid detection?  What was she?  His dirty little secret? She had nothing to be ashamed of and did not care if everyone on the planet knew she was here to support Michael.  What in the hell was he thinking? As irritation rose, Lisa swore under her breath, and thought that public attention to her arrival would be the least of Michael’s problems once she was through with him.

4

Debbie finally had left after he had assured her for the hundredth time he would check in with her later.  Did she really have to be so needy? Surely, she understood that Michael would continue to be extremely interested and invested in her welfare, especially since she was going to give birth to his son soon.  However, that did not mean he had to be attached to her by the hip.  It was perfectly acceptable if he called or had his people inform him about her condition since he had just spent the past two hours with her.

Two hours.  So much could change in such a small time. Two hours before, he had been single.  Well, to be exact, he was divorced, but that was not something he liked to think about.  Not, when in his heart, he was still convinced that there had only ever been one woman for him.  And not when he continued to believe in the eternal and unbreakable sanctity of marriage.  After all, it was not “till some stupid paper you sign while you are mad do you part.”  Last time he checked, the only legitimate separation was death.  Which, by the way was why he had asked the justice of the peace to leave that line out of his current wedding vows.  No way would he wish death on Debbie, and he sure as hell did not intend to have to die to get away from this situation. 

“The situation:” that was how he thought of what was going on with Debbie.  They shared a clean-cut business arrangement, not a holy connubial bond, even though he understood that he had put himself in a position that projected that exact image to the world.  He always had intended to find the ‘one and only,’ and to grow old with that special person.  What he had not bargained on was that the love of his life would turn on him, jump ship when things got a tad bit rocky, make impossible demands on his time, get jealous and unreasonable, and be just…words escaped him...well, be a straight up bitch. 

On the other hand, he had also been amazed to find that he could not simply move on and leave the past where it belonged.  At one point, he had honestly thought that his life would be complete once he  had parenthood to look forward to.  After the loss of their baby, he supposed trying for another child right away would help Lisa and himself heal their immense pain.  He remembered looking at her helplessly as she initially stayed submerged in tears, then spent endless and countless hours staring into space, lost to him and his efforts to comfort her.  His words and his love had obviously not sufficed to get her over the loss.  Anger had set in. What did she think?  That his agony was less because he was not the one who had physically carried their hope for the future?  Once, she told him she felt guilty for having let him down, for having been the one whose body had betrayed them.  To him, such thoughts were utterly useless and also completely unproductive.  The doctors had assured them that early miscarriages sadly happened quite frequently and that there was no reason to think they would not be able to have another child at some point.  Lisa already was a mother, so why was she beating herself up uselessly?  Obviously, her body was able to have children, so he thought it was best to move on and try again. 

While Lisa was not opposed to the process of trying, she was hesitant about actually committing to having another child. 

“It’s just too soon, Michael.”

Too soon?  Too soon to overcome the pain and embrace their future?  He had been stunned and angered by her refusal to see things his way and by her choice to instead wallow in sadness.  So, while her way to heal had involved spending extra time with her kids and for some reason with her ex-husband, he had buried himself in work and in keeping in touch with his friends.  Of course, complicated as this thing called marriage seemed to be, Lisa, then had announced she wanted more of his time.  Which was ridiculous since he already spent crazy amounts of time thinking about her.  He did not have to be in the same room to feel close to his wife.  He also did not deem it necessary to assure her every five minutes of his love verbally.  He married her- of course he loved her.  And he knew she loved him.

Lisa, on the other hand, seemed to constantly need assurances, which confused him.  Well, what about him?  His insecurities were not exactly lessened when she took off on vacations with the man she had born children for.  Oh, she hated that phrase, by the way.  He told her she had children “for” Danny, and Lisa just about had taken his head off, and had informed him that women did not have children for men, but with men.  This had then led to a two hour discussion and fight – all based on idiotic semantics.  How weird that in his private life, words tended to get him into deep water routinely, while he was perfectly able to write lyrics everyone in the world understood.  Just like when he had told her Debbie had again offered to have his baby.  What he had meant was that she had offered to have a child, which he and Lisa could raise.  Since Lisa, for whatever reason did not want to get pregnant, it seemed only logical to take Debbie up on the offer.   And, to make things even more confusing Lisa had told him to go ahead and do it.  So he had- and she had launched into space- and not in a good way.

Then, there was the battle over her father’s songs.  Well, he still did not understand why there had to be a discussion and a small war about that at all.  It was a business transaction that made sense.  This was not the first time that his business acquisition had disrupted a cherished personal relationship, as Paul continued to give him the cold shoulder even after all this time had passed.  Lisa had been furious when her mother informed her that he, Michael, owned several songs of Elvis’.  She made it out to have been some evil gambit intended to take over her empire.   The empire, which, by the way, her mother still did not let her run.  So, why not be mad at her mother instead?  No, she had come after him, even demanding he relinquish his rights.  After at first being slightly bewildered, he became more and more annoyed with her histrionics on that topic.  His business was not open to discussion with her.  He had married her because he loved her and wanted to share his private life with her- his business was off limits. 

So, overall there were many times when his marriage served as a thorn in his side, putting unbearable pressure on his already complicated life.  However, he also had never felt more content and more complete than when being part of something bigger than himself.  He was safe with her; he was sheltered, and at home in her presence.  Finally, he had someone to come home to.

Their sexual relationship also did not hurt matters.  Making love to Lisa had been great from the start.  Lisa had awoken something in him that he only had been able to express in his music and dancing before.  Not that he did not like sex before he was with her, but it had always seemed like another gambit in that weird dating ritual he never quite got the hang of.  Being with Lisa had blown his mind and took his body to place he never knew existed in real life.  She had unleashed something wild and animalistic and he still had not managed to rid himself of craving her, dreaming of her, wanting her. 

There definitely was also this other side to their relationship- the side he had tried to block out and erase in his anger.  The plans to have a baby with Debbie and to move on seemed like the perfect medium to wipe the slate clean.  If only things were as easy and uncomplicated as he had envisioned them to be.  But no, understanding grew as their separation expanded: they were about more than sex.  They were defined by some kind of otherworldly bond, some deep connection that he had not managed to break.  He missed her and he was lonely.  The more he tried to ignore and nullify the tender memories of their time together, the more they surfaced. Finally, he had become sick of trying to go on without her.  He was Michael Jackson; he had obliterated all kinds of boundaries- why did he have to adhere to ridiculous social conventions to make everyone else happy?  Well, the question really did not matter anymore, as he had relented and had decided to temporarily comply. 

In theory anyway.  However, he had no plans whatsoever to stay away from Lisa from now on.  He would find ways to keep their relationship low-key and he would be patient and wait until he could wiggle out from his contract with Debbie- after she had fulfilled her obligation.  Some part of him cringed, wondering when he had turned into this calculating, seemingly heartless person.  Was his mother right?  Was he really becoming more like his father?  Well, that had been the comment that had finally pushed him over the edge when she –ever so gently, of course- advised he put a ring on Debby’s finger.

 No, he was nothing like Joseph. Joseph was cold and devoid of the ability to love.  For Michael, it was all about love.  He was capable of intense, deep love- he just happened to love the very woman he had promised to love and honor for all times.  So what if she right now was not his legal wife?  She had messed up and thrown in the towel, thinking she could blackmail him into giving into her definition of what their marriage should be like.  Yes, he had been angry and torn apart- but when the cloud of debris lifted what was left standing was the small, but never the less alive seed of their love that had refused to die.  It was like a little plant surviving nuclear winter: an unlikely survivor able to carry love and life into the future of those who had lost hope.

One he realized that deep down he had not been able to kill all the hopes to have Lisa in his life, he had sprung into action to win her back.  Nothing motivated him like a challenge.  A small part whispered that really, she should work to get him back, but after their meeting he realized that she was a bit more upset about the baby and Debbie than he had anticipated.  Obviously, she had not been able to move past that.  He had convinced her he wanted to be friends, and part of that was certainly true.  Their friendship was such a huge part of their relationship and he wanted it back.  But- he had no intentions of stopping there.  She had proven that she was not immune to him and that she continued to harbor very strong feelings, surpassing friendship, under all that rage.  Once she had opened the door to their friendship, he would move in under the radar and see where they could go.  Really, it was too soon to think about actually getting formally married again.  One, he was married legally now, and two- things seemed to have gone really south last time before the ink had been dry too long on the marriage certificate. 

However, he needed her there with him now to ease the pain and to make him feel alive and loved.  Hence, the invitation to join him here.  Her presence also served another purpose: she would be upset about the wedding, and why not have her where he could somewhat steer her emotions and her reaction before she worked herself into a lather reading about his nuptials in the paper. No doubt, the tabloids would happily write all about the new Mrs. Jackson.  Speculations about his motives, which were not that difficult to guess, would abound.  There would be pictures, which he had agreed to have released to make it all official.  Or maybe he just wanted to make sure the nightmare had been real.  Either way, it was best to have Lisa close by so he could explain once again to keep her from blowing her top.  Also, physical proximity would help if all else failed and he had to use alternate weapons of persuasion and distraction.  The thought made him go hard inside his pants.  Damn! The woman had no idea what she did to him.  Or did she?

As if conjured by his thoughts, he heard the front door open.  Showtime.  He inhaled deeply.

“Michael?  We just got the word that she arrived.  She should be on her way up.  Just a head’s up- she seems slightly…ah…irritated.”

Hi bodyguard, Carlos, stuck his head around the corner. Michael felt dizzy but was unable to pinpoint the exact origin of his breathless state:  was he excited to see her?  Or was he scared shitless to face her after what he had just done.  Or was it a little bit of both?

“Ok, Carlos, thank you.  Just let her come in. Oh, and…” He could not help but notice the heat rising into his cheeks, “You guys can take the rest of the night off.  I won’t be needing anything.”

Carlos attempted to suppress a smile.  Michael knew full well that his staff was aware of the nature of his tumultuous relationship with his wife- even though of course, they also knew they were  divorced.  So, maybe they just thought that he and Lisa would have a nice dinner together. As friends.  Yes…which is why he had them pulled from door duty- to have dinner with a friend.  In case she started throwing dishes at him. 

“Are you sure, boss?  She looks like you can use some protection tonight.”

Great.  Just what he needed: his people to worry that Lisa was going to kill him.  Well, at least they would come and check in the morning and notify his next of kin of his demise, if necessary.  Crap- his next of kin was Debbie now.  That would be almost funny.  Maybe he should plan on staying alive to be around for that.

“Yeah, you are so wonderful to worry.  But she probably is just tired from the long flight.”

He did not for a second believe his own rationalization.

Neither did Carlos, by the look on his face.

“Ok, Mike.  Whatever you say.  We are next door if you need anything.  And the dinner is also on its way.  Maybe Miss Presley will feel better after she eats.”

Miss Presley might be happier once she gets my head on a platter. 

He shuddered…

Sudden noises in the hallway alerted him that the waiting time was over and that she finally had arrived.  He closed his eyes and swallowed.

“Mike, you ok?”

“Yes, Carlos, I’m fine.  Just tired.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, but held his tongue, as he turned toward the door.  “Miss Presley, good to see you again.”

Lisa had walked in, and she ignored Michael as she warmly greeted Carlos.  They engaged in some small talk, then Carlos made his hasty exit, but not before once again assuring Michael he was next door.

Michael chewed his lip nervously and stared at Lisa, who also seemed to be at a loss for words.  As he had been warned, she looked annoyed and bitchy.  Her lips were pressed together and her eyes had that green tint that usually accompanied intense passion on either end of the affective spectrum.  Still, she was a vision of loveliness .  Her jeans hugged her tightly, and the blouse and leather jacket fit perfectly, conveying an image of casual elegance.  Her hair was a bit longer again, and it flowed around her shoulders, making her look younger.  She had kept her make-up light, her lips standing out, having been rendered slightly darker than their natural hue. All in all, she sent his senses into overdrive, and his blood on a rushing journey through every cell of his body.

“Hey.  Welcome…” His first attempt to talk came out insecure and hesitant.  The tone of his voice irritated him: he had nothing to be insecure about, after all.  This was his hotel room and Lisa was on his turf.

“Well, I guess, I would feel a lot more welcome if I had not been brought in through the backdoor like some late night snack delivery.”

“It was not the backdoor.  It was the kitchen.”

She raised an eyebrow.  Oh, no, that was not the right answer…  He felt like ducking for cover. 

“Really?  After more than 12 hours on a plane, you are going to argue with me about whether it was the back door or the kitchen, Michael?  The fact is, for some reason I had to be snuck in like a dirty whore.  Is that how you see me?”

Did she have to be so melodramatic?  And crass?  He started to ponder what he could have done with the money he just invested into that charter flight had he just left her ass back home.

“No, I see you as a dear friend, and I think I was pretty considerate to want to preserve your privacy and not announce to the world that you are here.  The papps are out in full force…after…earlier.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

Taking a couple of steps closer, she threw her purse on the nearby sofa.  He had kept his eyes on the ground, but raised them to meet hers as she stood mere inches away from him.  Her scent momentarily took his breath away.  How could she smell so good after just having been on a forever long flight?  He inhaled deeply, and realized the warmth of her body combined with her perfume sent blood to all the wrong regions of his anatomy. Alarm bells went off: What was she up to now?

Not giving him a second to call up his defenses, she leaned in and brought her full lips temptingly close to his mouth.  Had he not, hours ago, dreamed of those lips? Even though their feel and texture was branded into his mind, he could not resist the chance for a real life reminder of her sweet taste.  His breathing rate shot up and he instinctively followed the pull toward her, capturing her bottom lip, sucking it in lightly, feeling her soft and pliant under him, her mouth opening up as he started to deepen the kiss.

Then the cold shower:  She pulled back and laughed. 

“Ha! I knew it! Good friend, indeed.  You did not give me the good friend vibe.  And that was not a kiss for a good friend.  You are full of shit, Michael.  You brought me here ‘cause you thought you could fuck me into forgetting that you just jumped into the marital boat with the Debster.  Well, I hope it’s the Titanic.”

Damn her! 

“You are so conceited.  You just surprised me, that’s all.  Old habits.  You really think I need to charter a frigging airplane and bring you here if all I wanted was sex?”

“All you wanted?  So you do want sex! You are such a liar- you told me before you only needed my support.  I can support you with my clothes on and with my legs closed, you know. So, dream on, if you think you’re gettin’ any tonight- or ever again. At least if you think it’s gonna be with me.  You do have a wife to provide those services- and it’s not me anymore.”

What a bitch.  The heat rising in his head had nothing to do with desire as much as with becoming really ticked at her.  Well, maybe it was a combination of both, but he told himself that she was becoming less and less attractive to him the more she bitched.

“I am so glad you came all this way to remind me of my marital status.”

“I would not have come all this way at all had it not been for you whining and neediness and I, like a total lunatic, fell for it again.  You don’t need me.  All you need is a blow-up doll and a tape recorder to whine into.”

“Well, a blow up doll would at least not make my head hurt with all that noise.”

“You are such a prick.”

“And you are an incurable bitch.”

Lisa had her arms crossed in front of her body as she glared at him.  He returned her stare from his corner of the room.  Suddenly, he felt childish for having engaged in her little game.  He really needed to keep a level head here.  He knew she was angry, and he knew she liked to goad him into fights to cover up what was really going on between them.  It seemed so much easier for both of them to fight about stupid stuff instead of letting the other in as they had done in the past.

“I need to use the restroom.”  Lisa sounded still a bit pissed, but she also seemed to have realized the both had slipped back into the ridiculous defensive bullshit that had driven them apart so many times before.

While she was gone, he poured them both a glass of wine and also retrieved a bottle of water for her.  Ok, maybe there was a chance to start this messy meeting over again.  His nerves had been on edge for hours, and he really needed to stop making things worse by letting her upset him.  Michael dropped himself into the couch.  His head fell back and he closed his eyes, wishing the drumming in his head to once again go away.  This was definitely not going as planned.

Lisa came back out and sat on the couch next to him.  Well, that was a good sign.  She could have chosen the opposite love seat or the huge chair, but here she was, shoulders slumped, looking tired and a bit defeated.

Silently, he handed her the bottle of water, and she thanked him before taking a couple of long gulps.  She spotted the wine glass.

“For me?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks.”

The both reached for it at the same time and their hands touched.  He let his fingers linger, enjoying the feel of her warm skin under his, before pulling back.

“Can we start again, Michael?”

What was she talking about?  Start this night again, or start their relationship again? This was so crazy, every word was leaden with double meanings for him, and he felt he was walking a constant tight rope.  Ok, he would try and just take this at face value.

“Yeah.  I’m sorry about my tone earlier.  I am so glad you came. Really.”

“Are you?”

The nod was silent, his eyes serious.  Amazingly, he meant it.  He would rather spend the next days engaged in crazy, nonsensical fights with Lisa, than to share space with Debbie and her implied demands on his time like earlier.

“So, how was the flight?”

“Long.  I had some weird dreams.”

“Sorry.”

They both drank from their glasses.  It had been so long since they had shared a room without falling back on bickering, they both seemed to have to dig deep to re-learn what used to be second nature:  the art of simply being with each other.  Strange, how this awkwardness had been absent in their recent phone conversations.  Maybe, both considered physical contact much more threatening.

“So, how…how did it go?” Lisa asked the question without looking at him. 

Emotions from hours earlier came rushing back and he closed his eyes again to prevent any more useless tears.  No crying over spilled milk, right?  Same thing was surely true about taken vows. 

“Horribly.”

“You went through with it, though, right?” Was there hope that he had copped out in her voice?  She obviously thought he had bigger balls than he did.

“I had no choice.” His eyes met hers and he saw the hope leave like a ghostly presence.

“We always have choices, Michael.  Not perfect ones, but choices, nonetheless.”

“Well, it’s done.”

The silence expanded like a third presence in the room, sucking the oxygen out of the already toxic space.

“So, what now?”

Her question surprised him.  Indeed, what now? 

“I don’t know…make the best of it, I guess.”

She nodded.  “Well, that’s all you can do. It’s all any of us can do…”

Her voice drifted off, her gaze distant.

“This is not forever, Lisa, you know that, right?  It’s like an arrangement.  There is a limit…”

Her eyes were so sad, the emotions drifted from them into his heart and his soul.  Instinctively, he reached for her hand, and while he expected her to withdraw, she intertwined her fingers with his.

“And she knows this?  I mean, she has you now, Michael.  I doubt she wants to let you go.”

“She has my name- and a bundle of cash to go with it.  I guess it’s only fair she gets something out of it.  I made it more than clear that this is in name only.”

Words his lawyer had shocked  him with earlier, came to mind. But he swallowed hard to block them out. For now, anyway…

“What is the public version?”  Of course she knew there was a public version.  She had played this game from birth, after all.

“I married her ‘cause I love her and the baby is the result.”

Silence again.  He felt her hand slipping and held on, tightening his grip. 

“Lisa, what was I supposed to put out? The truth?”

“No, that would be too unusual. Even for you.”

“Would it kill you to be supportive for two minutes?”

This time the hand was pulled from him.  She glanced at her watch.

“I think I made it for ten.  You are putting me in such a horrible situation here. And I don’t even think you realize it.”

“Like what?  I am asking for your support.”

“Well, maybe, just maybe, I’m not the right person to ask. Has that ever occurred to you?”

It was unclear if the edge in her voice stemmed from anger or pain.

“You are my friend- I trust you.  I have no one else I trust like this.”

“Yes, you do.  You have Teddy, you have Frank, and you certainly have Liz.  Yet, you dump all this on me: the one person who should not be hearing this.”

“Liz knows some of it.  I talked to her earlier.  But with you, it’s different.  You will tell me as it is.  You won’t lie to me.”

“Funny, you say that, ‘cause I seem to remember you accused me of lying to you.  And as I recall, you weren’t always too thrilled when I told you the truth.  Especially, when you didn’t want to hear it.”

“I said you broke your promise, I never said you lied.”

“Same difference. Michael, what do you want me to tell you?  It seems like you need a shoulder to cry on, but I need one, too- and you can’t have two needy people in this game.  I try to let listen to you, but here you are, so full of pain and regret, but I can’t feel sorry for you ‘cause you did this.  You chose to take this route.  You plowed ahead with this crazy stubbornness of yours.  Now you are hurt and you feel unloved.  Well, how do you think I felt when you told me you made a baby with her?  Did you stop for one second to think how this would just tear my world apart?  It broke my heart, Michael.  You ripped out my heart, tore it to little pieces, and flung them into the wind…that’s what I felt like.”

The tears seeping from her eyes were acid to his soul.

“Lisa, I had to do it.  It was my chance.  I couldn’t tempt fate and throw this chance away.”

“So, you threw us away instead?”

He reached over and took her shoulders in his tight grip.

“I never threw us away.  You gave up.  You told me to take Debbie up on the offer and then you stormed out and filed for divorce.”

Lisa shrugged his hands off and got up from the couch. 

“I’m not having this conversation again. Michael, give me the key to my room.”

He stared up at her.

“Your room? What room?”

“Are you kidding?  You did book a room for me, right?  You didn’t think I would stay here with you, did you?”

Well, of course he had thought she was going to stay here with him.

“No, …well... This is a huge suite, and you can sleep in one of the other bedrooms.  So, I did not get you your own room per se, but…”

“Priceless.  You are just priceless.”  She reached for the phone, and he jumped over and put his hand on hers, causing the receiver to drop.

“Michael, stop this shit.  I am calling downstairs to get a room.”

“No, you’re not.  Give me the phone, I’ll call.”

“What? Are you afraid they will know you have a woman up here?”

“I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks.”

“You are such a fucking liar.  Now, make the call so I can get the hell away from you.”

“You can get the hell away any time you want to- there is the door.”

“Thanks for reminding me.  I must have totally lost my mind to listen to your selfish ass and come all this way to be there for me.  Fuck you- and have a nice life.”

She stalked over to where she had dropped her purse and headed for the door.  Who they hell did she think she was?  Fine, let her leave, he did not need her.  He was just peachy all by himself.  Be there for him?  She did not know the meaning of being there for another person. 

Some evil spirit must have overtaken him, as he realized he had run after her, beating her to the door, slamming it shut and grabbing her by her arm all in the short span of a couple of seconds.  Her back was against the door and she stared up at him angrily.

“Get the fuck away from me ‘I’m leaving. We are so done here.”

“I’m not done with you, Lisa.  I haven’t started to be done with you. You said you came to be here for me?  Then, for heaven’s sake, why don’t you just shut up and be there for me?”

Her chest was heaving, granting him an enticing view of her black bra peeking out from opening of her blouse.  The blue green eyes narrowed and her lips opened to, no doubt to verbally assault him some more.  Forces beyond his control made him lower his face toward hers.  His eyes focused on her mouth and yet he forced himself to stop just short of touching her with his lips.  Despite her soothing, caressing breath, he was sure she would kick him in his groin and slap him any second now, making her exit.  Something shifted between them, and when her hands reached up to him, it was not to push him away as he had feared.  Instead, she grabbed his shirt and forcefully pulled him closer into her body as her lips crashed into his at the same time, stunning him, drowning him under a tidal wave of emotions.  

(to be continued)

©2012 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. ABSOLUTELY no disrespect is intended to any persons portrayed in this work.