[MJ Fanfiction] What Happened That Day

Part 63: Hiding Things

We were eating desert, when my mom told me she had something to tell me. She put her fork down, and cleared her throat.

“So um, I have something to tell you honey,” she began, smiling. “As you know, I've been looking for a job for years now, but employers kept saying I was too old to be hired...”

“Yeah, those motherfuckers,” I muttered.

“June!” Michael and my mother scolded me at the same time, which made me laugh a bit.

“Seriously, mom. Those employers who told you you were too old to be hired are idiots. They tell teenagers they're too young to work, and they tell people your age they're too old. Like fifty three was too old! What's their problem, seriously? There is some perfect age to work, now? Honestly, it pisses me off to think that--”

“Baby, I think we got it,” Michael gently told me. “Let your mom finish, now,” he asked me, smiling.

“Sorry mom. Go on,” I said, giving her a smile.

“Anyway, I think Ifinally found myself a job,” she said, smiling from ear to ear.

“Really? Mom! That's great,” I cheered, standing up from my chair to hug her.

“Yeah, I've been waiting for this for years,” she smiled again.

“What kind of job is it?” Michael gently asked.

“I'll work as an assistant for a lawyer, Mr Grey,” she proudly said. “But the thing is, I'll have to leave for Washington with him tomorrow night, because he has to meet one of his client there. He said we should be gone during at least two weeks, but I said I'll have to think about it.”

“Think about it? Why did you say you have to think about it? Mom, it's your opportunity, take it!”

“Honey, knowing Michael won't be there to keep an eye on you because he has to leave for his tour, you won't have anyone to look after you while we're gone, and I don't want to let you here by yourself.”

“Mom, I'm 25, I can take care of myself. It's not like I'm still sick, I'm fine, really! Go ahead, take the job, please,” I pleaded, smiling at her.

“I don't want to leave you, honey. You were in a coma two weeks ago, what kind of mother would let her child alone in this situation?”

“The kind of mother who trust her child,” I softly told her, taking her hands in mine. “Mom, please. I'll be fine, and I'll call you everyday. Just take the job, I know you need it.”

“You promise?”

“I promise, mom. You need to show them how a 53-year-old is worth the job!” I enthusiastically said, which caused my mom and Michael to laugh at me. “What? I'm proud of you, mom,” I said, smiling from ear to ear.

“Thank you, honey. You're the best,” she said, pulling me in a warm embrace.

“You're welcome,” I said, pulling away from her arms.

“Well, I should probably get going now. I need to let Mr. Grey know that I'm taking the job,” she said, standing up from her chair. “Come to tell me goodbye tomorrow, ok?”

“I will,” I smiled, and opened the front door.

“Good night, lovebirds,” my mom waved at us.

**

As soon as my mom left, I cleaned the table while Michael was cleaning the dishes. Unfortunately for him, I can't do it because of my cast. I asked him a couple of times if he minded to do this for me, but he always told me that he really didn't mind, so I let it go. I've been waiting to have some alone time with him, because I know I have to tell him what Jeremy told me this afternoon. I mean, I need to talk about this with someone, and I have only Michael left now. I could talk about this with my mom, but I don't want to bother her with this. She seems really happy about her new job, and I don't want to take this happiness from her. She needs it, she needs to feel like everything is finally getting better. The thing is, I want Michael to feel this way too, and I'm afraid that if I tell him what Jer told me this afternoon, he will think about it, and knowing Michael, he'll think about it way too much. He's like me, he gets really axious or angry about the tiniest things. That's the reason I shouldn't tell him. I could be selfish and not thinking about how it's going to affect him, and just drop the bomb and tell him, or I could play it safe for him, and let him enjoy the drama-free life we've been having for a week, and keep it for myself. The second solution seems a lot better.

Once I finished cleaning the table, I came in the kitchen, and wrapped my arms around Michael's waist from behind, as he was drying his hands with a towel.

“You're finished with the dishes?” I gently asked him.

“Yup, I'm all yours,” he declared, turning to face me. “Oh, what's that look you have here, baby?”

“What look?” I asked, frowning. This man reads me like an open book.

“That look,” he said, pointing a finger at my face. “You look sad, what's going on? Is this about your mom getting a new job?”

“Um, y-yeah,” I lied, stuttering. “I hope she'll be fine, that's all.”

“Your mom is a grown woman, babe. She'll be fine, don't worry about it, ok?”

Crap, I really don't like lying to him, he's so sweet.

“I'll try,” I said, sadly smiling at him.

“Is there something else on your mind, baby girl?”

I gulped, “Um, no, nothing. Let's watch a movie, would you?” I quickly changed of subject.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, looking at me skeptically.

Damn, he knows I'm hiding something.