... And There She Was

Chapter 5

The pair were inseparable for the next several days. Every time, they met at "their spot". The park. The bench. It was the moment both looked forward to more than anything during the day.

Each day, they stayed later and later, talking about anything and everything. From light hearted comparisons of trivia knowledge, to deep debates on religion and morals. Zoey eagerly learned more about the religion Michael was passionate about, Jehovah's Witnesses, though with keeping a gentle distance. Religion had always been a touchy subject in her family. Her parents had not brought her up in a specific religion, but it wasn't something they discouraged, either. They simply told her to seek her own way in life, and if a religion was a way to do so, to go for it. She knew that they were both brought up Jewish, though it was something they never pushed upon her. Truth told, she couldn't even remember her own parents observing the religion they themselves were born into. However, Zoey knew they had their reasons for wanting to keep a distance...

On Sunday and Monday, the two days of the week when Zoey's bakery was closed, she and Michael spent the entire day together. The days were becoming chillier, so when on Sunday Michael showed up prepared with a thick blanket, Zoey was stoked. They sat close on the bench, curled up under the blanket with their arms lightly brushing up against the other, ate cheese and pickle sandwiches, drank hot chocolate that Zoey had brought in her dad's old and battered blue plaid print thermos, and settled into their growing friendship. Anybody walking by would naturally assume the young couple on the bench were in love. Their comfort with the closeness, the way they looked at each other, the way they laughed. The way they teased.

It was easily, easily, the happiest Michael had ever been. Ever. In fact, he wasn't even looking forward to going back into the studio on Tuesday to begin re-working his album, surprising even himself given the enthusiasm and tireless hours he had put into it thus far. It was, in essence, his baby. The album. He had always told himself that a girl, if she ever were to come along, could not change that. Work was work, and everything else was just that. Else.

Was he ever wrong.

Michael found himself spending all day with Zoey, and all night thinking of her. When with her, it was like he was trying to memorize every little thing she did. Every smile, every laugh, every bat of her eyelashes. He remembered everytime she mentioned something she disliked, or something she liked. He wanted to know, in case it ever came up again. He wanted to be perfect for her. He longed to know her on a deeper level than anyone else had ever known her. He yearned for her presence, her essence. Her...warmth.

Was this love?

But what was it supposed to feel like? Michael didn't know. He knew of his love for his mother, his love for his siblings and their kids. But love for someone else, someone he wasn't... obligated to love? That had eluded him. He knew of crushes. He had a crush on Zoey the second he saw her...but crushes are easy. Everyone has crushes. He's had crushes. Tatum, Diana, Brooke.....the only one of those he would have even ventured into thinking was love was Diana, and even then he had the sense to know it was the illusion of romantic love derived from a platonic crush.

He had yearned for love for 24 long years. Was it possible it had finally found him?

On Tuesday, they both reluctantly returned to their responsibilities. Zoey, to her bakery, and Michael, to the studio. Luckily, he did not have to do any more vocal work as his chords were far from tip top condition, having been out in the brisk weather with Zoey for hours on end for the past 5 days. Most of what needed to be done was editing and re-layering. That task was mostly left up to Quincy and Bruce who were at home with all the dials and knobs, with Michael giving input and eventually, final approval.

Michael seemed distant at times in the studio, and this Quincy noticed. Over the next several days, the men worked on giving this album the perfection it deserved. Michael had suggestions here and there, a couple of refusals of their suggestions, and some giving in on others. When the others were at work, he was content to sit in the thick leather chair on the back wall of the control booth, gently chewing on his fingernails, deep in thought. About a lot of things, but mainly...her.

They hadn't met up every day this week, as they had since they met. Zoey understood that Michael's time in the studio was of utmost importance at this stage, and she was happy to give him his space. The week at the bakery wasn't horrible, but it was busy enough to keep her mind occupied on work, instead of on the man she desperately missed on the days he was kept late at the studio. She almost set a pot of sugar on fire on the stove, because she walked away from it to go grab something out of dry storage, only to find she had forgotten what she went in for the second she got there, and instead lost her train of thought to thinking of how cute he looked the other day. It was only when Maddie started shouting at her did she rush back into the prep area to find a blackened tar of a mess in the pot that was now ruined. Her best friend was definitely becoming suspicious of Zoey's aloof behavior the past week, though every time she began to question her, Zoey would quickly change the subject, or a customer would come in. Luckily, Maddie had recently begun dating a boy of her own, so not getting together as much after work as they normally did, didn't seem so one-sided on Zoey's part.

Zoey told Michael this story the day before last, leaving out the part of the story in which her distraction was actually him. He was doubled over in laughter, visualizing Zoey and a pot of sugar shooting flames 4 feet into the air, even though he knew it wasn't exactly a laughing matter.

Recalling this story to himself on what was looking to be the last day in the studio, put a smile on his face. Quincy, seeing his young genius staring at the ground, grinning like the Cheshire cat, obviously thinking of something other than the task at hand had piqued his curiously to its breaking point.

"You okay, man?" Quincy asked, staring down into the switch board, glancing out over of the top of his eyeglasses while looking into the glass partition, allowing his reflection to speak to Michael.

"Huh?" Michael snapped out of his trance.

"Are you okay? You look deep in thought, and if I had to guess, it ain't about Lady In My Life." Quincy looked back down at the switches.

Michael shyly chuckled. He continued to chew on the nail of his forefinger before yanking it out of his mouth and wiping the slobber off on his thigh.

"Hey, Quince?"

"Mmm?" The older man hummed in response, sliding colored knobs up and down the board.

"What does love feel like? Real love." Michael asked earnestly.

Quincy froze in his movement. He let the question sink in for a moment, before slowly turning around in his swivel chair. He knew it. He leaned forward, letting his elbows rest on his knees, his hands clasped, fingers intertwined before him. He removed his eyeglasses, much in the way a grandpa or father does when giving a child his full attention, and looked Michael deeply in the eye.

"Michael? Do you think you're in love?"

The fingernail chewing recommenced. Wordlessly, he quickly and shyly nodded his head.

"Anyone I know?" Quincy asked hesitantly. He was well aware of the years-long crush Michael had on Diana Ross, and really, really hoped it hadn't gone this far, as he was positive that Diana's feelings would never be reciprocated in that way.

"No."

Quincy let out an undetectable sigh of relief.

"I don't know. I guess it's different for everybody. Love is...well there's no right way to feel, ya know? Like, the way I feel with Peggy might not be like how you feel with...whoever it is you're talking about." He paused. "Lemme ask, Smelly...how do you feel?" He reached out and gave the young man's knee a tap, as if to say 'go on, you're safe here'.

Michael took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He wasn't good at discussing these kinds of feelings, but he trusted Quincy implicitly.

"I feel...I feel...." He searched for the words, which soon came tumbling out on their own accord, without regard to any vulnerability he may be faced with afterwards. "I think about her all the time. When I should be thinking of everything but her. I feel like I can tell her anything. Anything. The secrets I've had for years and never told anyone. I just...I just see her, Quincy...just when I see her, it's like someone took a needle and just starts to poke me all over my body, but in a good way, ya know?" His voice was becoming softer, a near whisper. "I feel warm all over. And protective. And....whole. I hear her laugh when I go to sleep, and I see her smile when I wake up. Just sitting here with you, I can....smell her hair." He chuckled, knowing how bizarre that must have sounded. He was staring down into his lap at this point, not able to look Quincy in the eye after spilling his heart in such a way.

"I feel like a real person when I'm with her. She lets me be a real person. Not...this," he trailed off, gesturing towards the impressive studio equipment, symbolizing the career. The fame. Finally lifting his head to Quincy, Michael saw a different person than the one he was looking at just moments ago. In this man's eyes was...pride. And, a relief of sorts. And maybe, if he really convinced himself, a hint of a tear.

Quincy rose up out of his seat and made his way over to the man he had grown to love as a friend, a brother, a son, over the past 5 years. He crouched down to Michael's level in the chair, and firmly placed both hands on Michael's shoulders, gently squeezing, a smile creeping up onto his face. The touch was...fatherly. His eyes flickered back and forth, scanning the façade of the man in front of him, the man who had just bared his soul.

"Her name?" Quincy asked softly.

"Zoey."

" Zoey.." Quincy echoed in response. "Very pretty."

"Mmm hmm... she's very pretty."

"I'll bet."

"She's got bright red hair. It's incredible."

" Really."

"Mmm hmm".

"And you met?"

"At the park down the street."

"There's a park there? Huh."

"Yeah, Bruce told me about. I walked in....and...." he paused, looking for the right words. "...and there she was." He shrugged, and said this with a perplexed inflection to his tone, almost an amused annoyance. Almost as if saying to God, 'Really? That was it? All this time, all I had to do was take a walk? And you had her there...waiting? Seriously?'

Quincy left his gaze upon Michael for a few moments longer. "I can't wait to meet her."

He gave Michael's shoulder a couple more squeezes before he stood up, his heart swelling with pride and elation for the young man. He made his way back over to the controls and plopped down into his chair, turning back to the labyrinth of dials, switches and buttons, sliding his glasses back atop the bridge of his wide, flat nose.

Michael was confused. "You didn't answer my question."

Once again, Quincy used the glass to allow their reflections to do the talking. Reflection Quincy looked Reflection Michael square in the eyes.

"I think you answered it yourself, don't you?"

Yes, yes he had.

__________________________________________________ _____________

Sunday had come quickly, Michael was meeting up with Zoey around lunch time with a copy of the final recording of the album. It had come together beautifully, and Michael couldn't have been more proud. It was going to be huge, he knew it. As much as he didn't want his career to really play a factor in their relationship, it was only natural to share the things you're passionate about, with the people you're passionate about. He had his reasons for keeping Zoey shielded from his fame and the pressures of his career and his fans, but he didn't feel it necessary to shield her from his art. Zoey was equally as eager to hear it, though nothing could have prepared her for what she was about to witness.

After meeting up with Zoey, Michael realized that his plan of playing the album in his car was a risky one, if anyone were to walk by and hear it. So, he came up with an alternative, with ever so slightly ulterior motives.

"Zoey?" He said after a brief chat. "Will you come over to my house? We can listen to it there...and I can...show you around...animals and stuff..."

Zoey became instantly nervous. Meeting his family was something she didn't think she was ready for yet. His family was so big, and with her coming from such a tiny one, what if she did or said something stupid and embarrassed herself? She loved listening to all the different stories he had about his brothers, sisters and life on the road, but Michael couldn't help but notice that Zoey rarely reciprocated these types of tales. Zoey didn't talk much about her parents or her family, and when she did it was always in the past tense. He hadn't come right out and asked her yet, but he sensed that Zoey's parents, possibly, weren't around anymore. While she has been inquisitive and eager to hear more about all of his siblings and thoroughly extended family, her own family had yet to be the topic of conversation instead of just a passing remark.

"Oh, wow....uh....."

"It'll just be us and Mother and Janet, I promise," he said, sensing her hesitation. "Everyone else is out of town, including Joseph."

....nothing.

"My Mother would love to meet you, as well..."

Well, now she couldn't say 'no'. At least it wouldn't be all of his sisters and brothers. That would just be overload for her.

"...um....yes. Of course, definitely!" She caved.

"Yeah?"

"Yes, I would love to come over and meet your Mother. And your....llama?" she laughed.

Michael beamed, he began to lead her out of the park towards his car, which he had figured out how to park just across the street instead of still at the studio. "Oh yes, Louie wants to meet you, too!"

"Oh, does he now?"

"Mmm hmm."

After a brief walk, Michael kept by her side as he rounded a large, expensive looking black car, fumbling in his pocket for his keys to open her passenger side door for her. Who said chivalry was dead?

Zoey gently eased herself into the luxurious Rolls Royce, taking in the gorgeous wood work of the paneling, plush leather seats, and modern looking stereo. As Michael flopped himself down into the driver's seat, Zoey suddenly felt a rush of heat permeate her senses. She had never been in a car with Michael before, and it was a different feeling. They had sat close on the bench plenty of times, and lied side by side in the grass for hours on end, but that was so...out in the open. This was much more enclosed, and for some reason, Michael driving gave off such a vibe of masculinity. Silly as it sounds, as all they were doing was driving in a car together, but for Zoey, it struck her as incredibly intimate. Perhaps because in youth, a car ride was generally a precursor to a date, the kicking off point for puppy-love nervousness.

After weaving their way through the streets of Los Angeles and it suburbs, they finally arrived at the imposing iron gates to Michael's house. Luckily, there were not any female fans gathered by the gates on this day, as that would have been awkward to have to explain to his 'date'.

Michael drove the car down the long path, pulling up to the 6 car garage before shoving the car into park.

"Ta da!" he sang, cheekily.

Zoey had been staring in disbelief at the house since it came into view. A Tudor style, romantic masterpiece with sweeping architecture of brick, wood and stone. What she had seen of the landscaping was breathtaking as well. Impeccably manicured lawns with cobblestone pathways, colorful plants and impressive topiaries. It was all, in one word...'charming'. And 'comfy'. Okay, maybe two words. There were at least 3 different structures on the property, from what could could see.

"You'll get the grand tour, of course." Michael said, noticing the girl's wide eyed scanning of the property. His property. "So...what do you want to do first?"

Zoey snapped out of her trance. "Oh, um....I...what are the options?" She stuttered.

Michael's heart swelled at her adorableness. "How about we get the album out of the way, then we can explore."

"Sounds good to me."

Zoey went to open her door, until she felt Michael's strong hand on her forearm. Her whole body was immediately covered in goosebumps.

"Wait." He said.

He slowly leaned in towards her, his hand reaching for the glove compartment. His long body was stretched out in front of her, his head dangerously near hers. She took in his warm, spicy scent and stared at the back of his head into his mess of soft, ebony curls. Her senses were magnified, having him this much in her space. Michael pulled out a demo copy of the album, returned back to his seat and popped it into the car's sound system. His fingers hovered over the 'play' button when he turned to Zoey, nervousness etched on his face.

"If you have any questions about anything, just let me know, okay? And tell me what you think. Honestly."

She nodded in agreement, and with that, Michael hit the arrow button, letting the thumping first notes of the first track blanket the pair, holding them prisoner within the car's surround sound system.

Zoey could only sit in stunned silence as each track finished, clicking over to the next. To think that the man responsible for what she was hearing...was sitting right next to her? Unbelievable. The only time during the entire album she uttered a word, was when a song she figured was called "Not My Lover" had finished. Michael had been sitting in silence beside her as well, unable to read her thoughts through her stoic façade.

"That one."

"Hmm?"

"Can you play that one again?"

"Billie Jean?"

Oh. "Yes."

Michael rewound the tape, cueing up the beginning snare/hi-hat and bass combo of the intro to what he considered the masterpiece of his album, 'Billie Jean'.

Again, Zoey sat in silence through the song, this time concentrating much more on hearing the lyrics of the song. It was a disturbing, brilliant, dark, eerie piece of music, and she could have listened to it 10 times over.

The album wound down to the last track, the sexy and crooning "Lady In My Life". Zoey's face read one of amused shock, hearing Michael begging his 'lady' to hold her body close to his, lay back in his 'tenderness' and his pleas to let him touch her. Michael was clearly uncomfortable listening to this song in her presence. He squirmed in his seat, picking at the leather of the steering wheel and uncontrollably flicking with the window and lock switches on his door handle. It was intimate, much too intimate. Especially for Michael, who had never experienced the very things he was singing about in this particular song. Quincy had told him to 'beg for it', and by God, did he ever.

The tape had finished, nosily whirling to a stop as the car's audio system regurgitated the tape back out..

Michael and Zoey were both silent. Zoey was staring off into the distance, almost zombie-like, trying to absorb and make some sense out of what she had just heard. Michael picked at a loose thread on his jeans, glancing at Zoey every now and again out of the corner of his eye, waiting for her to break the silence.

'Did she hate it? Why isn't she saying anything? Oh my God, she hated it and is thinking of polite things to say. Crapcrapcrapcrap...'

"So...."

"So?"

Michael gestured gingerly with his hands towards the stereo console.

"Did---what did you---did---did you like it?"

Zoey furrowed her brow in thought, searching for the right words. She twisted her lips from side to side, a habit she got from her mother who did the same thing when thinking hard.

"Mike---I think..." she paused again.

Michael's heart stopped beating momentarily. Total flat-line.

"I think it is possibly one of the most genius compilations of music I've ever heard." The tone in her voice was one of complete honesty and sincerity. She meant every word she said. Michael's body language perked up at her remark.

"Really?" He questioned, gawking at her. " Really?

"I do." Zoey was still in shock. "I do. It's....Mike, it's unbelievable. Some of the stuff on there...I've never heard sounds or...or, rhythms like that before. And some of the lyrics, did you write...."

She continued to babble on in escalating amazement of the album, picking his brain, asking him questions about song lyrics, motivations, orchestration, inspiration. Michael answered all of her questions enthusiastically, bubbling over inside with glee that the girl he was nuts about had "gotten" what he was trying to do. And what he was trying to do, was change the landscape of the recording industry with originality. Innovation.

Once Zoey had gotten her fawning under control, she could still only shake her head in disbelief, her feelings for this man deepening as a result of such appreciation for his talent. Not his stardom, his talent.

"Well, I'll be sure to be first in line to buy it when it comes out." She said matter-of-factly.

Michael laughed softly. "I can get you a copy, ya know..."

"No, no! I have to buy it! I'm going to buy it!"

"Alright, alright...." He chuckled, clearly defeated. He had gotten the vibe that once Zoey had set her mind to something, it was hard to get her to veer off course. Her hard-headedness was endearing to him.

"But, seriously Mike. It's...truly incredible. And I mean that. It's...extraordinary."

The pair found themselves in an awkward silence, still excited from their impromptu listening party. Zoey, in awe of her friend's talent, and Michael, suddenly bashful and shy at Zoey's overwhelmingly positive response. Zoey lifted her gaze up to meet Michael, his eyes already fixated on her. They both knew what was coming next.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Slowly, Michael reached out, his fingers gently plucking away a strand of hair that had become stuck to her impossibly long eyelashes. She blinked at the slight tug at her eyelid, the blush creeping down her neck to the tips of her fingers, her toes. He let the pads of his fingers graze her temple, ever so slightly, as he placed the strand back into its tussle of soft, red hair. Zoey shuddered, and closed her eyes in euphoria at his touch. Her breathing became quick and shallow, as her heart once again hammered inside her chest with anticipation and nervousness. Her hands were clenched up in balls in her lap. Her eyes drunkenly fluttered open, to find Michael's gaze focused on her full rosy lips. His fingers traced down her hair line, his trail leaving behind a path of goose bumps and shivers as Zoey leaned her head into the warm, soothing cup of his hand. He continued his exploration and subsequent torture of her senses, his hand finally coming to rest near her delicate chin, lightly clutching it between his thumb and forefinger. His tongue slyly darted out to moisten his lips, having become dry from his shallow panting. Zoey did the same. The gaze into the other's eyes, steady. The leather of Michael's seat creaked and squeaked under him, as he shifted his weight, leaning his torso in towards Zoey. He could smell on her breath the intoxicating aroma of the cinnamon candy she had been munching on earlier. Closer and closer he inched, until he was near enough to close his eyes....tilt his head....and....

"HEY!!!!!"

"AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!" Zoey and Michael screamed in unison, each flinging themselves into their separate seats, their bodies slamming hard into the backrests.

The short, pretty, pig-tailed girl laughed, and flashed a smile as beautiful as her big brother's.

"JANET! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!!?" Michael bellowed while clutching his chest, his heart racing faster than any kiss could ever make it go.

"Me? What are you doing," she replied in a cheeky, sing-song voice. She dipped her head down to peer into the car's window. "Hey Zoey!"

"Um...hi?" Zoey squeaked out, barely able to lift up her hand to wiggle her fingers into a messy signal of 'hello'. She was still shaking slightly from being so startled.

"I've heard Michael talk about you to Mother," Janet clarified, clearly having confused the girl in the car. She seemed to be enjoying torturing her brother with her unannounced presence, and with such wonderful timing, at that! Her smile was warm and inviting, and Zoey could sense that Janet was genuinely happy to be meeting her, which definitely calmed her fears. She had worried about Michael's family being protective of him, especially when it came to females, and was petrified of not giving off a good first impression.

Michael's breathing seemed to have returned to normal. "Janet, this is Zoey. Zoey, my sister Janet," he motioned between the two with a halfhearted introduction gesture. "You'll have to excuse her manners..." he teased, though something in his voice hinted that he might have been ever so slightly serious.

"Hello, Janet," Zoey said, much more composed. "I've been looking forward to meeting you!"

"Me too! I'm glad he brought you here!" She flashed that smile again, and turned to her brother who was glaring at her through hooded eyelids. "Mother saw you drive up, Michael. Said she saw someone else in the car, figured it was Zoey, and made me come out to make sure she can stay for dinner."

Michael turned to Zoey, shrugging slightly as if to say 'Well?'

"Oh...I, uh..." she stuttered. "Um...sure!"

"Great! I'll let Rosie know!" Janet turned on her heel to skip off back towards the house.

"Rosie?" Zoey asked.

"Our chef," Michael said. Zoey's nervousness was palpable. "Don't be nervous," he said warmly. "Come on, let's walk around." He knew the 'moment' had passed, and didn't want to force it to happen unnaturally. There would be another chance, he was sure of it.

"Your mother knew it was me? How would she have known?"

Michael reached out to her, coiling a thick lock of her ruby hair several times around his long forefinger. He pulled his hand back, letting the silky tuft of hair unwind into a perfect spiral resting upon her delicate collarbone.

"Dead giveaway." He said with a wink, opening his door.

Her face turned a similar shade.
__________________________________________________ ____________________

Michael was ever the gracious host, slowly walking Zoey around the grounds of the property, pointing out all the different birds and animals. Swans, exotic birds, fawns, snakes, his menagerie of animals would rival most small zoos. He answered all of her questions with enthusiasm. They crossed over the gorgeous white wood bridge that arched in a crescent over the charming pond full of colorful fish. She even saw a fat frog take a leap off a floating lilypad, making a graceful belly flop into the water. It was like a dream. They made their way through the lush gardens full of flowers all the colors of the rainbow, towards the pens that housed the larger animals. Michael wasn't at all surprised when Zoey had no problems entering the cages of his fawns and his ram, Mr. Tibbs, even though the grounds were sure to have at least a few 'surprises'. In fact, it made him fall for her even harder, being so down to earth. Any girl unconcerned with a high possibility of stepping into doo was most definitely a good find. She petted and stroked the small fawns, and giggled when the littlest one, a girl, licked the palm of her hand. Her biggest shock was when the giraffe that had been hanging out on the other side of the compound, meandered over to their area. Zoey felt like she had just wandered into the plains of Africa, where giraffes just...roam around and eat trees.

For the piece de resistance, Michael trotted out one of his favorites, his llama Louie. Louie was incredibly tall, nearly taller than Michael who stood at nearly 6 feet. She listened to Michael as he rattled off Louie's facts and story, as they walked back towards the main house. Michael let Zoey take his reins at one point, as he darted through the bushes to try to catch one of the birds that had gotten loose from its cage. Once caught and put safely back in its pen, he made his way back to where he left Zoey, searching for her through the thick foliage. When she came into view between two large ferns, he stopped to watch her.

Zoey had stopped walking with Louie, to wait for Michael to return. She was standing in front of him, gently stroking his long snout and peering into his heavy hooded eyes. She smiled widely as she caught her reflection in the glossy blackness of his large onyx orb. His satiny lashes were several inches long. She continued to rub his face, and scratch the mane that stretched down his long, sturdy neck. Never having been able to resist doing this to most animals she met, she nuzzled her face into his soft fur, planting a sweet kiss on the side of his snout before pulling back and smiling. Michael was right, Louie was definitely a 'very charming, sweet animal'. Zoey knew it took a gentle soul to have such a profound love for animals, and the whole of the afternoon only confirmed to her that Michael was quite possibly the man of her dreams.

Michael was watching all of this from just a few yards away. She was so beautiful, standing there, in his yard. The golden afternoon sun bathing her red waves with its autumn colors. What had she called it? Oh yeah, 'Magic Hour'. His heart soared at witnessing the sweet gesture between his beloved llama, and the girl he was crazy about. How many girls would kiss a llama? Not many, he reasoned. She was so special. So, so special. She was everything he had ever dreamed of, everything he had ever wanted.

Zoey had, in the span of a little over a week, become his closest friend.

His best friend.

Loving her was a bonus.

Zoey felt eyes boring into her from off to the side. She glanced slightly over her shoulder, to see Michael's figure partially masked by two large palm fronds, his dark eyes visible through a gap between two of the leaves, staring at her with intent. With seriousness. She felt like helpless prey, being stalked by a majestic lion, peeking out from behind its mask of foliage, ready to pounce. That familiar beating of her heart began to rise again in her chest and he slid out from behind the plant, to stride towards her. He broke their gaze when he glanced down at the ground, only to capture it again as he stopped in front of her. His hand reached out and gently brushed upon her hand, the one that was holding Louie's reigns. He took the reigns from Zoey, a twinkle in his eye. However, just as Janet before him, Louie ruined the moment with a loud snort and a frantic shake of his head, the thick hair of his mane flying every which way, swatting away something that had buzzed too close for comfort.

The pair could only laugh at this second impeccable display of timing. Luckily, the awkwardness of the moment was dissolved by the voice of Janet out on the back patio, bellowing at the two to come in for dinner.

"Shall we?" Michael asked, gesturing grandly with a deep dip of his knees and sweeping arms, clearly imitating the olden days of a man's formal invitation of dinner to his lady.

"But of course..." Zoey played along in a thick British accent, with an exaggerated curtsey and a laugh.

Michael let Louie's reigns drop to the ground, assuring Zoey that he was fine to wander around the grounds until later on in the evening. Together and giggling, they made their way the rest of the distance to the house, onto the back porch with the large stone fountain aglow in yellow and green floodlights, cobblestone patio and twinkling Tivoli lights. Michael opened the back door for Zoey, and she stepped inside, mentally preparing herself to meet the mother of the man she loved.