... And There She Was

Chapter 30

Zoey's giggles had always been the kind that sounded like wind chimes on a breezy spring afternoon, and this day was no different. Her head perched up atop a mountain of pillows, her body languidly sprawled out on the couch, she watched the curls on his head gently bounce to and fro as he 'conversed' with their newest little development.

"So then..." Michael said, his supple lips hovering over the smooth skin of her belly. "I started thinking to myself 'Where the heck am I going?", so I went back to her and said 'Can you come back tomorrow?' And she smiled and said yes, and the next day I was late and I almost missed her, but luckily she had stayed and we talked some more and it went from there, and that's how I met your mommy."

She stared down at him and weaved her fingers into his hair as he continued to whisper his silliness, his long body nestled in beside hers as his legs dangled off the armrest of the sofa, completely transfixed on her fleshy stomach and the miracle that nestled within it. The glow hadn't left his body since being told that his dream for his life was about to be fulfilled. He was walking on clouds.

She was too for a bit, before, like clockwork, the waves of first trimester sickness had struck and struck hard, heaving up even the most simple of breakfasts into the toilet earlier in the morning.

Michael laughed, then danced around the room, pumping his arms into the air, shouting "Yes!! Yes!! She's barfing! She's barfing!!!"

For whatever reason, Zoey hurling up the contents of her stomach made it all more real to him.

It had been two days and six more paranoia-fueled positive stick tests since first finding out they were expectant parents—like Zoey had said, quite possibly the best Christmas present ever. Tonight was their last night in Japan, abroad in the world for the Bad tour, and the timing couldn't have been more perfect.

Home.

Neverland.

Their own bed. Their own house.

Their own time schedules, their own lives. Trying to be like any other couple expecting a little one.

They had a nursery to decorate. Parenting books to read. Teeny tiny clothes to shop for.

Amusement parks and zoos to baby-proof.

Okay, maybe not quite like any other couple.

It was like a red, velvet covered book had just turned a page, and the next chapter read:

'...And Baby Makes Three'Only a few remaining shows in Los Angeles after the first of the year, and then they were home free. Zoey had no hope at containing her excitement over her news, and as soon as she had her private moment with her husband and the father of her baby, had zipped to the phone to call Maddie, but had changed her mind before punching in those oh-so-familiar numbers. Surely there was a better way to break the news than an early morning hours collect phone call from Japan, with shoddy reception and lack of hugs.In fact, they only person they had told so far, was Bill Bray, who in his true form of being more like a father to Michael than his head of security, had broke down sobbing, already making promises to take the little one on a fishing trip as soon as he/she were old enough.With the newness of pregnancy though, came the irrational concerns. Michael, having always been doting and protective, had in the course of two days, turned downright annoying."You probably shouldn't take the elevator." "Should you be eating that?""Isn't it bad to lie on your stomach?""No microwaving anything.""Does your shampoo have weird chemicals?""How do you say "hypo-allergenic" in Japanese?"Two days into her ordeal, already Zoey was having to whack some sense into her darling husband. (Literally—she beaned him with a wet, waded up dish towel from their kitchenette) "Mike—it's going to be a long and trying nine months if you're going to hound me like this. Chill out. I'm pregnant, not an invalid."He'd gotten the point, and had been much better since that altercation, though stood firmly on his insistence of increased security around her if they have a threat of being outside and encountering a mob scene. Zoey joked that she was going to feel like a fish being bubble-netted by a pod of whales, but too had to agree that getting in a shoving/crunching match with thirty crazy fans probably wasn't what her body needed right now.Tomorrow they would leave this all behind, heading home for the sanctity of their seclusion on their glorious ranch. It couldn't come fast enough."Think it can hear me?" Michael asked, derailing her trail of thoughts. "Eventually, yes.""Probably not yet, though.""No. It's the size of a lentil bean," she laughed, earning a lazy smile from Michael as he continued to stare at her navel."I still just can't believe it," he whispered. "OH MY GOD, your boobs are gonna get so big.""What?!" Zoey laughed. "Since when have you been a boob man? You've always been more interested in my butt!""Since you got prego and now your boobs are gonna get huge. And your belly too. Promise me you'll strut around in little tank tops this summer when your belly is enormous. I. Can't. Wait.""I don't know if I'll strut so much as waddle. But yes, I think I'd be up for some of that."

"The nursery can be the guest room just adjacent to our bedroom."

"That was my thinking, too."

"We'll have to put a bed in there for Sophie, you'll know she'll be guarding over the baby like a hawk. Like a lab. Only pink. And really overweight."

"Yeah, like the slowest moving, least intimidating lab ever," Zoey laughed. "If a baby-thief came in, Sophie would probably just want a belly rub!"

"You have a point," he giggled, pressing his soft lips into her belly, then turning his head to rest his warm ear against her skin. "Thank you," he whispered, whispering to the rumblings of her tummy, which in all likelihood were mostly from hunger, though he liked to believe the baby was talking back to him already.

"Thank you," she replied, unweaving her hand from his curls and tracing a delicate finger down his strong, masculine jawline.

He slithered up her form, mindful of not resting his weight on top of her perfectly fine body—but Michael was Michael and there wasn't anything he was willing to risk.

"Think we can get another one in there?" He mumbled, his mischievous voice rumbling into that ticklish spot on her neck, as his actions became less timid and more fervent.

"Don't think that's how it works," she giggled, but was more than happy to let him try.

Only moments into their frolic, the movie that was on tv broke for a commercial break, and the room that was once filled with the noisy shoot-outs of Lethal Weapon was engulfed in silence. Silence, except for the gentle stirrings of the 100 or so fans that gathered on the steps of their hotel, waiting...hoping, for just a split second glimpse of their idol.

Reluctantly, his lips broke away from hers, as Zoey stared up at him with a quizzical expression. Slowly, his gazed trained on the plush, golden curtains that shielded the frost covered window of their hotel suite. One of the last remaining barricades between his fans, his fame, and the truth it stowed away.

"Zoey," Michael said, turning back to her and resting his nose against hers. "It's time."

She knew exactly what he was talking about, and could only agree.

"It is. I know. After Los Angeles. After the last show. When we're home. Really home."

And it was.

Time.

To let the world know for sure of the man that Michael had become, before...but yet very away from their prying eyes. Before Thriller, before the moonwalk, before mega-stardom and mega-riches, before total world domination.

It was time to tell the world about a fateful fall day in 1982, the day he would be changed forever.

The day he found his Zoey.

"You scared?" His whispered.

"Yes," she replied, meekly nodding her head. "I am."

"Me too, Zo. Me too."

_______________________
It was the early morning hours of a soon-to-be sunny January morning in Los Angeles, when Zoey jangled her key in the lock of a door and let herself into the building that had for so long been her second home.

It still smelled the same.

The buttery scent of freshly baked cakes and croissants, the sweetness of chocolate and buttercream icing, and the tartness of their lemon torte, a Zoey's Sweet Shoppesignature flavor from day one.

Nothing had changed. All the stools were in their same spots, all the large rolling bins of flour, sugar and powdered sugar nestled under the counter on the west wall. The way the sun peeked through the windows of the front of the shop and hit the stainless steel countertop just right, so that it sent blinding rays of sunshine cascading through the shop for the first 30 minutes of the day. She shuffled out into the storefront and wiggled the string on the blinds, lowering them to mid-height, the first part of her daily routine that she had done every day for years.

"Some things never change," a familiar voice said behind her, and before Zoey could even turn around, the warmth that was already in her heart expanded tenfold.

The two friends stared each down from a distance, each gnawing on their lower lips to prevent the waterworks from spilling onto their morning fresh faces. Zoey's eyes wandered down to Maddie's midsection, and her body willfully moved itself closer, until her small hands could press against the warm flesh, the rotund apple-ness of the belly that carried her soon-to-be newest niece or nephew.

"You're home?" Maddie asked. "For good?"

"For good," Zoey whispered, snaking her arms around Maddie and holding her tightly for several moments. "You're so big!" She laughed, pulling away and grabbing her belly again. "I saw you in early December and you had barely started showing!!"

"I know! I feel like a f*cking WHALE!" Maddie groaned, waddling them both back into the workroom before plonking down onto stools. They had about 30 minutes of alone time before Sam and Catherine would show up for the morning shift. "It's like the baby just exploded in size one day. I woke up and I was as big as a goddamn house."

"Sshhh, such language. How far are you now?"

"27 weeks. Two-thirds of the way there. And right now it's burrowing up into my ribs. Not comfortable at all."

"I think it's magical," Zoey cooed. "Rib busting and all."

Maddie eyed her suspiciously, the way she stared longingly at her tummy, the way the sadness she had had in her voice for several months and had suspected to be in her eyes as well, was instead replaced with a girly, happy sparkle. The flush of her cheeks, her glowing skin, the way her hair seemed thicker and shinier than it ever had.

Never having been a math whiz, Maddie could put 2 and 2 together.

"And how are you guys doing in that department?" She asked coyly.

Zoey blushed crimson and felt her insides rumble, the same feeling a rocketship must get before it's about to explode off the earth. "Well, funny you should ask...."

"Oh just spit it out already!"

"I'VE BEEN SPERMINATED!!!" Zoey shouted, bursting up off of her stool and doing an Irish jig around the table.

"I knew it! I knew it!!" Maddie laughed along with her. Her baby was clearly excited too, or perhaps was just startled, and kicked her stomach so hard Maddie nearly doubled over in pain. "OWW!! Freakin'....little....boxer in there. Geez!"

"How could you tell?" Zoey asked, breathless as she sat back down on her stool to compose herself.

"You look knocked up."

"How can I look knocked up?"

"You just do," Maddie laughed. "How exciting!! Did Michael just flip his lid?"

"Mad, it was...so adorable," Zoey gushed. "He was shocked at first, but then he started to cry a little...but then he got really excited and starting running through the entire hotel suite and out onto the balcony, jumping on the couch. It was looney."

"You found out in Japan?"

"Yeah."

"So...did you go see a doctor there then?"

"No, no. I actually, uh....haven't seen a doctor yet. That's next on the list. Very next."

"But you....are pregnant?" Maddie asked hesitantly.

"Oh yes, we took about 8 stick tests. But there's no way I'm too far along, probably only 3 weeks or so, so we wanted to get back home and settled before we chose a doctor."

"And have you? Chosen one?"

"Oh gosh I wouldn't have any idea of where to start. We're open to suggestions. Though, Mike only has one stipulation. It cannot be a male."

"My doctor is a male, who cares?"

"He, and these were his exact words...doesn't want 'some dude' looking at my 'down there'," Zoey said, making good use of the air quote gesture.

"Christ on a crutch," Maddie groaned, smacking her palm against her forehead comically. "It's just a vag. They see them every day."

"That's what I said! I said, 'What if the best OBGYN in LA happens to be a man?', and he was all 'Nope. No. No dude.' He's just being a baby. HA! A baby. How fitting," Zoey snorted, laughing at her own stupid joke.

"Wait...wait...I thought you had a vag doctor?"

"Dr. Morrows? She moved. About...five months ago maybe? San Francisco."

"Ah. Hmmm," Maddie pondered. "Dr. Evans has a partner in his clinic that's female. Dr. Betty."

"Dr. Betty what?"

"No. Betty is her last name. Sherry Betty. Dr. Betty. I've seen her in the hallways before, she's maybe mid-40's, seems real nice."

"Hmm...Dr. Betty. I like the sound of that."

"The office is in a big building downtown, with basement garage parking, so you could get in and out unnoticed. Give her a call," Maddie said, then waddled back to the office to grab her telephone agenda out of her purse. Slowly, Zoey sauntered in behind her, a tiny wave of sadness flowing into her soul at the familiarity of it all.

"You've hardly changed a thing," she noted softly, looking at the framed picture of the two of them on their first day of business, grinning stupidly in the café, wearing oversized chef toques and menacingly wielding a couple of whisks. She remembered having a hell of a time getting the camera at just the right position, then rushing back to Maddie as they waited on the automatic timer. The failed out-takes were hilarious, and Zoey knew she still had them in a box somewhere.

"I never would," Maddie said with a smile, pulling out a business card.

"The Women's Clinic of Beverly Hills. Fancy," she said, reading the bolded black text.

"It's super nice. I think famous people go there too, so....they really won't give a sh*t when you two clowns walk through the doors."

"Geez thanks," Zoey scoffed, though with a chuckle. "But that's good. We need a facility that...doesn't...like you said, care."

"I'm so excited for you, crazy bird," Maddie cooed, easing her swollen body down into the desk chair.

"Likewise. How did the earth manage to decide it'd be a good idea for us two psychopaths to be pregnant at the same time? Our husbands will probably end up moving out and living with each other until the babies arrive and we can go back to be sane. Sleep deprived and covered in baby poo, but at least somewhat hormonally balanced."

"OH!! Speaking of living arrangements, I had to deliver a cake last week—"

"You're still making DELIVERIES??!!" Zoey gasped.

"Shut up. Yes. I'm pregnant, not an invalid."

"I said the SAME THING to Mike! How funny!"

"Hilarious. So...and the delivery was by your old place, and I saw the for sale sign up in your lot through the back gate. You're selling? For real?" Maddie pouted, her previously feigned sympathy giving way to genuine sadness.

Early in the month of December, prior to having to leave for Japan one last time, Michael and Zoey decided that the time had come to sell their cottage. The focus on their relationship had intensified dramatically, and ever since that article a ways back that had linked Zoey to the house, it had become a hot spot. Tourists and members of the press were getting overzealous in their attempts to get their own special glimpse of "the house of Michael Jackson's girl". So much so, that they had to ask Maddie and Jake to go over and install a high tech alarm system to deter any further nosey-ness.

It had become clear that their warm and humble cottage, could never again be what it had been for them so many years ago. They contacted a real estate dealer and made arrangements for the house to go on the market as a soft listing, meaning—no open showings. So far, they had had two legitimate interests from young couples, amongst the many other bogus ones from people just wanting to get a peek in what may or may not have been a private time in the life of Michael Jackson.

"Yeah," Zoey sighed. "It's time. We could never stay there again, it's not guarded enough, it's too exposed. It's...completely gutting. I can't believe I have to give it up."

"I'm sorry," Maddie said. "I know how much you loved that place."

"Yeah," Zoey huffed, taking in a moment of silence. "Anyways....so....do you know what you're having?" She waggled her eyebrows at Maddie.

"Yes."

"It's a girl isn't it?" Zoey squealed.

"No."

"It's a boy?!!! A little baby boy!!! Ohhhhhhhhh........" She shrieked, a little louder.

"No."

Zoey plopped back down onto the edge of the desk, dejected. "By nature, I'm out of guesses then. You're seriously not going to tell me?"

"No."

"Is 'no' all you can say?"

Maddie thought for a moment, clicking her tongue in her cheek. "No," she answered carefully.

Zoey reached out to flick her forehead.

"Ack! You hit a pregnant woman? SHAME on you!"

"Oh, stuff it," Zoey huffed. "Fine, then when I know what I'm having, I'm not letting you know either."

"Fair enough," Maddie shrugged, oblivious to Zoey's empty threats. She knew her as well as anyone in the world, perhaps even Michael, and there was no way she could go 9 months without spilling that big of news, to her of all people. The girl could last over 7 years in a relationship without the world knowing, but trying to keep something from her best friend, she'd give it three weeks, tops.

"What are you up to today? Besides crashing the shop and getting me all riled up with your nonsense?" Maddie asked, poking her thigh with a pencil.

"Gonna run by the house, start boxing up some stuff. Head home around...4 or so. Make an appointment with Dr. Betty, maybe do some quick shopping."

"What's Crotch Grab, Sexy Ass, Mr. Bad Smooth Criminal up to?"

"He's at home," Zoey laughed, unfazed by her friend taking the piss out of her hubby. "He'll sleep for the next week, I'm sure. We have the shows here at the Coliseum, but then after that, we're home free."

"Until when?"

"Until he decides to work again"

"And now he's got a reason to not be a workaholic."

"Too true!"

"I'm surprised he hasn't already bought out Toys 'R Us yet."

"He tried to, but I talked him out of it, convinced him he was just delirious from lack of sleep and put him to bed."

"Yeah, I'll bet you put him to bed," Maddie said, rubbing her tongue over her top row of teeth. "I'll bet you put him to bed bigtime."

Zoey just stared at her blankly, slowly crossing her arms akimbo in front of her body, cocking her head at her friend's comment and its ridiculous innuendo. "You're in the stage of pregnancy where you're insanely horny and just think about doing it 24/7, aren't you," she calmly deduced.

"You have no idea," Maddie groaned, burying her face into the pile of paperwork on the desk. "Jake is so worn out."

"Too much information, but thanks. I'll know to watch out for that in about....6 months."

"Hey, at least we can't get pregnant again, right?"

"Har, har, har. So....do you need an extra hand around the shop this morning," Zoey asked coyly, doing her best sashay.

"I'm sorry, we don't take amateurs."

"HEY!"

"Do you still remember the difference between baking powder and baking soda?"

"Probably not."

"Yeah, me neither. Go get an apron, crazy bird. I'mma make you regret this."

Zoey reveled as, at least for that morning, she was completely back in her element. Baking cakes, decorating them, making cupcakes and small confections for the shopfront. Catching up with Sam and a couple of the other employees was incredible, though some apologizing was due on her part for keeping her relationship a secret from people she considered her family. Now that she was on the cover of magazines with Michael, it had been difficult for them to not finally figure out what the heck had been going on with her. And she had to hand it to Maddie, these new decorators that had been hired were incredibly top notch. Zoey was definitely impressed with their work, and while she had known that her shop was in great hands and their reputation as one of the best in the city only continued to grow, seeing it for herself in the flesh made it all the more real.

It was a special morning, and dare she say—was one that made her feel whole again. Not that being with Michael and working on the tour and growing a new life wasn't fulfilling, but it was nice to remember that at one point, she had something that was hers. Something she was good at, something where she knew was valued, something she had built from the ground up, just her, Maddie, a couple of dreams and a lot of flour, sugar and eggs.

It was nostalgia, being there that morning, going about her day as if the last 3 years hadn't happened. Picking up right where she left off.

She knew she'd always be welcome to come in and work at the shop if the bugs in her pants ever became too itchy.

She'd always be welcome back home.

Zoey took Maddie out to a wonderful Mexican lunch where they sipped on non-alcoholic margaritas and stuffed themselves with chips and burritos, before heading to a sweet baby clothes boutique where she burned a hole through her credit card on pretty much anything Maddie happened to point at. All in all, her bill came to something like $7,000, and damn it if everything Maddie had picked out had an undefinable uni-sex color scheme to it. Nothing pink, nothing blue. Bold reds and green paired with gentler, pastel shades of yellow, green and brown.

Early afternoon came, and after good-bye squnches with Maddie, Zoey had to head out to run her errands. She needed to be back in her Jeep and on the road by 5:30 to make it home at a decent time. If she ended up driving in the dark, Michael would surely be at home having a panic attack. They had discussed installing a car phone into her Jeep, and even she had to admit that that sort of modern technology would be hard to pass up. One thing at a time though. Baby doctors first, car phone second.

Later that evening, Zoey was safe and sound at home, snuggled up with Sophie in her and Michael's bed.

"Mummy's sweet girl! Did you miss mummy? Mummy missed you!" She squeaked, as a rotund Sophie squirmed around on her backside, reveling in the tummy scratches she'd been neglected of for nearly 18 months. She snorted in glee, pink ears flopping all over Michael's pillow as Zoey's nails raked across her stubbly skin.

"Who's a sweet baby? Who's a sweet BABY? I think you are! I think you're a sweet baby! Did you and Bubbles get along? Is he still yanking on your tail? Oh? She says 'That darn Bubbles dwives me cwazy! He pulls my tail and tries to throw poo at me, I don't like that, mommy.' He'll eventually think you're a sweet girl too! Oh yes! Yes he does! Sweet baby girl! Muah muah muah muah muah hugs and kisses for baby..."

Michael watched the ridiculous scene unfold through the reflection in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. How many men could say that their loving wife let her pet pig into the bed, on their side, and not only asked the animal questions, but answered for them. Then they spooned underneath the covers as she sang 'Baby Mine' to them?

Sighing deeply, Michael stood at the side of the bed, waiting for someone, anyone to make a move to let him in. A California King bed, and somehow one tiny girl and one not-so tiny pig had managed to take up the whole thing.

"Don't mind me," he laughed, slinking his forearms under Sophie and sliding both her and Zoey more towards the middle of the bed, giving himself enough room to ease in under the satin sheets. A meek grunt was all a sleepy Sophie could muster, but it didn't bother her too much. A mommy and daddy bed-sandwich had been long overdue. Since she'd gotten bigger, she slept on her own bed at the foot of their bed, but her special treat as of lately had been to crawl up and snuggle in between them, like the olden days when she was but the size of a shih tzu. Michael had had a crew member at the zoo construct her a little staircase, so it was easier for her to reach the mattress. Last time they tried to lift her, Michael nearly dislocated a disc in his back.

"My pillow is covered in pig snot," Michael grumbled, reaching under him to flip his pillow over.

"It's probably just drool," Zoey countered.

"Even better," he said sarcastically, settling in and tossing a long arm over the pig, his hand barely reaching his wife, to rest upon her hip.

"I've missed this," she said, peppering Sophie's bald head with rapid fire smooches, as the pig wallered further into her spoiled comfort.

"My two girls, in bed with me. And all is right in the world," Michael smirked, kicking the covers off his hot body. Two people and a fat pig in one bed was enough body heat to go around.

"I made us an appointment with a baby doctor," Zoey said, on the verge of sleep but knowing she needed to share the news. "We go and see her next Tuesday at 1:00. It's a secure place, so we should be able to sneak in with no problem."

"Her?"

"Yes, her," Zoey said. "It's a lady, just as you wish, mi lord."

"I don't think I'm being difficult in my one request of not wanting a dude to look at your 'down there'!" Michael pouted. "I'm the only man with access to that area."

"Yes, yes you are," she condescendingly reaffirmed him. "Anyways, her name is Dr. Sherry Betty and she's in the same doctor's office as Maddie's doctor. She's good. She's older, which I like, too."

"Have you told anyone but Maddie yet?"

"No. Have you?"

"No."

"Not even your mom?"

"I was waiting until we got the visit under our belts and we had solid answers, such as due date and stuff. Maybe after the doctor we can swing by the house and surprise her. Joseph is in Vegas again...or so I hear."

"Ah."

"So, yeah. That's my plan."

"I like it."

"And after we tell her, I'll have Frank get to work on a formal announcement for the press. News won't break until we're back here, safe."

Zoey let a comfortable silence fall between them, deeply staring into Michael's deep mahogany eyes. No matter how she felt inside, all she ever had to do was look at him, and her fears were calmed. They were hypnotic and soothing, protective and pure of heart. The baby would definitely have his eyes.

She knew it.

"Everything is going to change," she whispered, reaching for his hand and interlacing their fingers together.

"We'll be alright," he assured her, squeezing her tiny hand. "Everything will be alright."

He pulled her arm across Sophie's body and curled it into his chest, letting the truth of his heart pulsate into her soul.

"I promise."

___________________

"Is this your first trip here?" The young receptionist asked them, as they weaved up the industrial, brightly lit back staircase of the imposing medical plaza.

"Yes, it is," Zoey said, loving the feel of Michael's warm palm on the small of her back, guiding her up the staircase, always ready to catch her were she to stumble.

"We've had many high profile clients here, so you're safe with us, I promise. And we're almost there. Sorry the trek is so long."

"Not a problem, we're in shape! I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Kelsie."

"Kelsie, nice to meet you."

"Likewise ma'am. Just round these steps here," Kelsie said, grabbing a large, heavy door and heaving it open, ducking her head out into the hallways to check that the coast was clear before waving the couple through. It was like some military, covert mission just to get them to the doctor's office.

"Suite 1004 right?" Zoey said, as she reached the large oak door of the office that bore the name of the practice.

"Yes, but we're going in a different door, straight back to the exam rooms. We have patient confidentiality laws, but our other clients in the waiting room don't. Better safe than sorry."

"Good call," Zoey said, continuing to follow Kelsie. She turned to Michael, who was now at her side. "You've been quiet," she whispered.

"I don't want to say something and have someone hear my voice," he whispered back, his moving lips barely visible underneath his comically ridiculous black glue-on moustache.

The threesome passed through one last set of doors, then into a jarringly calm atmosphere, more akin to a spa, rather than a doctor's office. The walls were colored not a blinding white or sullen blue, but a warm tone of peach, with dim lighting and relaxing music wafting over the surround speakers.

"Are we here to get the baby looked at, or a massage and facial?" Michael joked into her ear, as they were led into an examination. Unfortunately, the soothing colors and sounds of the hallway gave way to tradition, as the room itself looked like any other.

"The nurse will be in to see you in a moment," Kelsie said, after collecting Zoey's driver's license and insurance card.

Zoey wandered over to the box on the wall and started flipping through a couple of different pregnancy pamphlets, while a visibly uncomfortable Michael sat on a chair with his hands folded in his lap. He looked like a shy schoolboy, afraid of his surroundings.

"You okay?" Zoey asked, a hint of amusement to her voice.

"Ye-yeah. I'm fine," he said shakily, wide-eyed and quiet.

A gentle rap on the door sounded, and a fresh-faced nurse entered.

"Hi, I'm Nancy," she said, shaking their hands. "I'm gonna be asking you some preliminary questions today before Dr. Betty comes in, alright?"

"Sounds good," Zoey said, hoisting herself up onto the exam table, that horrid white paper crinkling underneath her butt. Was there any way to do that gracefully? No.

"Age?"

"26."

"Weight we got earlier...smoker?"

"No."

"Alcohol intake?"

"Rarely."

"Physical activity?"

"I run about 4 times a week."

"And you're married..."

"Yes, he's the father," she laughed, arching a cheeky eyebrow in Michael's direction. "I think."

Michael shot her a dirty look.

"Date of last period?"

"Ummm," Zoey pondered. "Hard to say...the first positive test I took was on December 24th, and I guess I had a period...two weeks before that? Maybe? It was really light and didn't last long, which is uncommon for me."

"And you had been on birth control pills up until..."

"July."

"Okay...it might be that you've been pregnant longer than what you think, and the spotting you're referencing to wasn't an actual cycle. Dr. Betty will be able to tell you all the specifics when she's doing your ultrasound."

"Kay."

"Alright then, I'll let Dr. Betty know you're ready, why don't you go ahead and slip into this," she said, pulling out an open-backed examination gown, "and she'll be right in."

Zoey disrobed and put on the obligatorily ill-fitting hospital gown that left her ass to hang out in the open, then tried to get as comfortable as was possible on the exam table. Michael had eased up off of his chair and began poking at things in the room.

"What the heck are these?" He asked, looking horrified at the imposing metal stirrups at the end of the table.

"My feet go on those, when.....you know."

"When what?"

"When the doctor looks at me."

"And this?" He pointed to a metal torture device that lie on the sterilized tool tray, a tool you'd expect to find at a barbeque rather than in a doctor's office.

"That's the thing that....um...they put...ya know...up in there. It sucks. Believe me."

Michael jaw dropped as he continued his tour of the room of horrors. Each time he came to a new contraption, his face scrunched up a little more. He shuffled over towards the same rack of pamphlets Zoey had been looking at, picked up one that said "Birth: In Pictures", and nearly shrieked like a little girl when a full color photo of a crowning baby stared him in the face.

"Holy...oh my...what the....why is that baby doing that to its mother!?"

"How do you think it comes out?" An unfazed Zoey said from the table. It was getting a little hard to not laugh at him.

Still scarred, he approached a 3-D model of the female reproductive system, picked it up and started looking at it.

"Interesting..." he said, thoroughly examining all the parts.

"Mike! Put that down!"

"I'm looking at....oh sh*t!!"

'Pop!'

A pink ovary shot out of its hole on the model, falling to the floor and bouncing all over the room.

"What did you do?! Find that ovary!"

"I can't! It's...it went under the table!"

"Mike! Find the ovary and put it back!"

"I'm trying!" He grunted, on all four and trying to reach the pink oval that had bounced underneath the exam table. "I can see it!"

"Get it!!"

"I'm trying!!!"

"Get it!!!"

"Got it!" He grunted, popping to his feet and manically trying to shove the ovary back into the model. With a 'click', it finally snapped into place, and Michael placed the model back where he found it just moments before the doctor entered the room.

"Hello everyone!" A cherub faced woman said, greeting her newest patients. "Lovely to meet you. I'm Dr. Betty."

"Hello," Zoey and Michael said in unison.

"My daughters are huge fans of yours, Mr. Jackson," she said with a warm smile. "How are you two doing today? Excited?"

"Excited, nervous, anxious....everything you can probably think of!" Zoey said.

"Well let's not waste any time then, shall we!"

Michael watched on in horrified curiosity as his wife's 'down there' was poked and prodded with instruments and tools he'd never even heard of before. He sat behind her quietly, watching the doctor keep grabbing more items off her tray and putting them where the sun don't shine.

How was he expected to handle the actual birth of this child, if I couldn't stand this?

"You okay?" The doctor asked him, peering at him over the tops of her wire framed glasses.

"Y-yes," he gulped, finding something, anything on the ceiling that was worth staring at.

"First trip," Zoey whispered.

"Always is," the doctor concurred. "Okay, everything looks normal from this angle, I'm going to ask you to now lie back so we can take some pictures of your tummy. Michael—I think you'll find this easier to handle."

"Thank God," he chuckled, his dry mouth desperate for a cup of water—hell, he'd even settle for a thimble of someone else's saliva at this point. He eyeballed the sink over in the corner, wondering if it would look odd for him to shove his face under it and take a few gulps.

Probably.

Zoey reached behind her, asking for him to hold her hand as the doctor squirted warm lubricant gel on her at-present flat belly. She rolled over a small television looking thing on a cart, and pressed the "camera" onto her stomach.

"Will we hear a heartbeat?" Michael asked.

"It's might too soon for that. But you will be able to see the fetus."

All Zoey and Michael saw on the screen was a bunch of white and black fuzz, as Dr. Betty rolled the wand around on her stomach, smashing the goop all over the place.

"I'm not..." Zoey said, squinting at the monitor, trying to find something.

"Here it is," she finally said, pointing a tiny peanut looking sac on the middle of all the fuzz.

"That's it?" Michael and Zoey both said at the same time.

"There it is. That's your baby! And from the size of it," she pointed towards the top of the screen with a millimeter measurement ruler, "I would say that you're about seven weeks."

"Seven weeks?!" Zoey explained, hoisting up onto her elbows. "So then....what..."

"The nurse wrote on your chart that you experienced some spotting, which at times is normal for early pregnancies. If you haven't experienced any since then, I've no reason to worry. Everything looks fine and healthy on the monitor."

"Wow. Just....wow," Michael said, inching further and further towards the screen, trying to get a better view of his little one. It didn't look like much yet, and it was too early for a heartbeat, but right then and there, his heart was full.

His mind momentarily clouded with visions of family life. Picnics under the large oak tree on the property they had named "The Giving Tree". Water gun fights on the playground. Pool parties and fireworks that lasted well into the evening, no matter the time of year. Snuggling up in front of the television to watch E.T. and Jaws, while stuffing their faces with popcorn, and having to apologize to the dentist about it the next day when they went in for check-ups.

The screen was fuzzy and without color, but staring straight into his soul, was the rest of his life.

"I'm going to get you some prescriptions for some pre-natal vitamins, and I'd like to see you in here in about four weeks. If you have any other questions or concerns until then, please give us a call immediately."

"I have one, right now," Zoey said. "Um...well, we had tried for about five months to conceive before it happened. And my mother, who is no longer with us, tried and failed for years to conceive. Is that, like...hereditary?"

"It can be, yes," the doctor said. "But on you, I'm not seeing any classical signs of endometriosis or polycystic ovarian disease, which are hereditary and can lead to multiple miscarriages before a successful pregnancy."

"I have no idea if she had anything like that."

"Sometimes, a woman's body just wasn't...made for pregnancy. No one knows why, it's just another way in which we're all different. In which we're not all made from the same mold. I'm liking the way you 'look', so to speak, so any concerns you have with your mother's issues, I don't think should worry you and your pregnancy. It's early, but right now everything looks text book. As long as you come back for check-ups and stick to the schedule, there's no reason to think anything could go wrong, that we wouldn't see beforehand. Don't worry, enjoy this time! It only happens once."

"Tha—thank you," they both stuttered, staring at the sonogram picture that the doctor had just printed out and handed to them, before leaving them their privacy.

Zoey stared at the photo of her baby, the fluttering sensation in her stomach sending chills to every limb of her body. Her little toffee baby, resting snuggly in the safety and warmth of her womb. Her own needs and concerns now came secondary to her wee one, her little miracle.

It was like the world had stopped spinning for a moment, frozen on its axis, letting them enjoy this first official moment of what awaits for them down the road. She already wanted to meet him or him. She wanted it here, now, with her, in her arms, receiving hugs and kisses and being showered with all the love they could possibly give.

"That's our baby," Michael whispered beside her, his hand sneaking underneath the gown to rest atop her belly, wiped clean of the ultrasound goo. "It's so teeny."

"I know," Zoey laughed through her mild tears. "It's happening. It's really happening. I can't believe it."

His whole life, Michael had dreamt about becoming a father. Being the most loving, supportive and nurturing man he could possible be to his children. And now, this beautiful woman that lay under his warm hand, was giving that opportunity. Giving up her body, allowing it to become a vessel for this new life. It was the greatest, most selfless act a human being could do. He could only hope, that everything good his child had in her or her, came from his wife.

Michael helped Zoey get dressed, and after checking out, they were once again led by Kelsie down the back staircase and to their car.

"Mike?" Zoey asked when they had finally squeezed through the vicious L.A. traffic and were on a relatively calm stretch of highway.

"Hmm?"

"Want to swing by your mother's now?"

"I was just about to ask you the same thing," he said with a smirk, reaching over to clutch her hand. "Ready for this?"

"Yes, definitely!"

"I have an idea. We need to stop somewhere first."

_____________________

"My dear, you are just glowing," Katherine said with a knowing twinkle to her eye, pulling Zoey into a tight hug once they'd taken off their coats and entered the living room. "I made some lemon cake, would you like a slice?"

"A big one, yes!" She said. Zoey was a sucker for citrus, and Katherine knew it.

"Ice cream?"

"Do you have to ask?"

"Michael baby, you too?"

"Yes, mother. Thank you," he said, giving his beloved mama a peck on the cheek.

"Thank you so much for the flowers," Katherine said, slowly making her way to the kitchen. "They're just so lovely. I love violets and roses, too. They're just what this kitchen needs."

Michael set the vase of flowers down on the kitchen island, as they hoisted themselves up onto the tall stools as Katherine pulled a buttery lemon cake out from underneath a glass dome.

"Where is everyone?" Zoey asked, nearly drooling as the sweet scent of the icing hit her nose. If Katherine didn't hurry up, she was about to take her fork to the whole darn cake, individual slices and polite manners be damned.

"Gone," she shrugged. "First time in a long time when I didn't have at least one of the kids staying at the house. And Joseph is....away right now," she said, her face turning that familiar façade of stoic whenever she mentioned Joseph's name. She always tried to make it seem like everything was alright, when everyone in the family knew that things were definitely as far away from okay as they could get. "So...right now it's just me."

"Mother, you're all alone?" Michael asked, worried.

"Well, no I've got the house help and some friends that drop by. I'm just fine," she said, handing them the cake. "Here ya go."

"Thanks!!" They said in unison, eyeballing their pieces with the wide-eyed enthusiasm of little children at a birthday party.

Katherine watched as her two babies dug into their case, loving the feeling of being a provider. It's a role she's had all her life, and though her children were all grown up and some with children of their own, even something as simple as serving them cake, made her feel all kinds of whole. Her family was always being pulled in twelve different directions, and not always with the best of intents. Even now, the divide between Michael and the siblings was evident. Katherine didn't care who was the most successful, who had the most money, who sold the most records. All she wanted was for her brood to be under the same roof, and enjoy each other's company, the way normal families did. For now, content to watch two of her hatchlings inhale cake, she put aside the longing thoughts of togetherness, and insisted upon herself to simply enjoy this surprise visit from the one son she didn't see often enough.

Smiling as she watched them playfully quarrel over who had received the bigger slice, she bent underneath the counter and pulled out a pretty yellow vase.

"Oh, there's a card too!" She exclaimed, after grabbing the bouquet of flowers and snipping their stems over the sink.

"Read it," Michael said coyly, not taking his eyes off his melting blob of ice cream. (He always had to have his ice cream melted for about 10 seconds in the microwave. Just one of his many quirks.)

Katherine smile warmly as she pulled the small card of it its envelope, though the smile slowly fell off her face, the more her eyes darted back and forth, reading the text. Michael softly nudged Zoey with his elbow, as she too watched for Katherine's reaction.

Suddenly breathless, Katherine put her hand to her heart, then over her mouth, then on her forehead, and then back to her mouth, as she re-read the words aloud, perhaps thinking they weren't true unless she heard her own voice say them. Sputtering a mix of laugher and tears, she dropped the card on the counter and made her way to her babies, engulfing them both up in her motherly wingspan, giving them the hug she'd been waiting to give them for many, many years.

'These roses are red
And the violets are blue
We're having a baby
In August we're due'______________________________Zoey had always considered the end of the Bad tour to be the shows in Japan, though in reality, Michae had a final five dates that were to be held at the Coliseum in downtown Los Angeles, the "official" end of the tour. This would be the last hotel they'd check into for a very long time, and even staying at a place as fancy as the Regent Beverly Whilshire didn't make the fact that it was, in fact a hotel, any less annoying. The suite was roomy and elegant, Zoey mentioned upon entering it that it could be a movie set, it was so grand.

"You sure you don't want to come," he asked, getting ready for his second to last show.

"Yeah, I'm just....feeling absolutely rotten,"Zoey moaned, pressing the warm washcloth against her forehead. "It's...different. Than the morning stuff. My whole body aches."

"Do we need to call the doctor?" Michael asked, the worry evident on his face.

"No...I don't think so," she warbled, craning her neck to the right to stretch out her throbbing shoulder.

Michael sat down beside her on the bed. He looked especially scrumptious today, wearing form-fitting black slacks and a simple, white cotton v-neck. He began to pull his wayward curls up into a sloppy ponytail. "You sure?" He planted both hands on either side of her and leaned forward, his looming figure hovering over her meek one.

"I think so. I'm sure this is just normal," she said, reaching up to play with the hem of the v-neck, and petting the hollow of his collarbone with her finger. His skin was smooth as milk.

"I think you should, just tell her how you're feeling, and if there's anything to worry about, she'll let you know. Give us some peace of mind."

The thought bounced around in her mind for a moment, until her stubbornness gave way to knowing that her penchant for always just "letting things get better" in terms of illness, wasn't going to fly in this situation. Any time she got something as minor as a cold and refused to go the doctor, Michael always had to bring up the broken foot incident of years past, and how she walked around on it for a week before getting it checked out.

Her body was undergoing serious stuff, and if she didn't feel...right, it was best to speak up.

"You're right. I'll call."

"Good," he said, scooping down to pluck her lips gently. "I have to go now. It's almost over, squishy."

"I know," she smiled.

"And you," he said, snaking his way her body to face her belly. "You behave in there! And quit making mommy sick." He blew a quick raspberry on her tummy, then eased off the bed.

"Call," he ordered, making the phone gesture with his thumb and pinky, then grabbed his bag and headed for the door.

"I will. I promise."

The door clicked behind Michael as he made his way to the penthouse elevator, where Bill had been waiting. Only two more days of the crowds, the hysteria, the pushing, the shoving, the hiding and cowering.

Frank was waiting for him the moment he entered the backstage area, holding up a manila folder, the contents of which Michael had been expecting.

"Just give it the okay, and it'll run first thing Monday morning," Frank said, handing him the press release.

An Official Statement from Michael Jackson

Friends, fans, and respected members of the press, as my tour winds down and I can yet again enjoy the peace and privacy of my home life, it's important for me to finally set the record straight on something I've never discussed.

For the past year, I have been consistently photographed out with a woman, whose identity I have never commented on. Though I have always, and will continue to keep details of my private life discreet, the time has come to share with the world the news that I've been holding back for sometime now.

The name of the woman in the photos is Zoey Jansen.

We met in the fall of 1982, and in March of 1984 we were married in a private ceremony, officiated by a judge of our home state of California.

We have kept the entirety of the relationship a secret for many years, only recently choosing to step out as the loving couple we truly are. We have never formally commented on our marriage for many reasons, the foremost being our desire to protect our privacy, as we live in the harsh and unforgiving glare of the media's eye.

Big changes are on the horizon for us; we are awaiting the birth of our first child this summer. I have dedicated my life to being the best husband and father I can be to her and our little one.

We realized the keeping our secret was no longer a logical option, and having the utmost of respect for our fans, we knew it was time to share with you our exciting news, and learn to navigate this world as the devoted, loving, married couple we are.

We hope that even given our secrecy and skirting of the truth, our fans can and will respect and understand our continued need for privacy during this exciting but delicate time.

I love you all.

Regards,

Michael Jackson and his wife, Zoey"Perfect," Michael said, handing it back to Frank."Nothing you want to change?""Nope.""Sounds good. Look out world," he said with a chortle, shoved his cigar back in his face and waddled away.Michael stared at his reflection in his vanity mirror, taking deep belly breaths to rid himself of the anxiety one tiny little press release just caused. "This is it," he said, throwing on a comfortable, blue plaid button-down shirt. The second to the last soundcheck awaited him, and he didn't want to be late.Zoey's state when he had left her a while ago was sitting heavy in his heart. Something just...didn't feel right. She was a trooper, a fighter. Even when she had morning sickness and was barfing all over the place, he had to almost literally tie her to the bed to keep her from running out to do errands. She'd throw up in her purse in the middle of the bread aisle, if need be. To see her so obviously miserable made his conscience do flip-flops, wondering if this was the place for him to be right now. Her assurances that she would call the doctor were all that kept him sane, but even then, his racing mind wouldn't settle until he was at 'home', safe with her and her clear bill of health.Why did this place, this dressing room, this arena, just seem....wrong?

____________________________

Zoey cracked one weary eye open, eyeballing the clock next to the bed, willing it to reach the hour when Michael would come through the front door and slide into bed next to her.

She was weak, dizzy, sweaty and sore. Her stomach was cramping, and for whatever odd reason, her shoulder of all things, hurt like hell.

She had fallen asleep when Michael had left, and therefore hadn't called the doctor like she had promised. Only when she woke up at 6:30 pm, well past office hours, did she stumble around for the phone to leave a message on the office's answering service. She immediately fell back asleep, and could have sworn she heard the phone ring at some point, but her dizziness and jumbled state of mind couldn't get her to even roll to the other side of the bed to answer it.

Her hands wandered down to her belly and massaged the clammy skin concealing her womb, once again thanking God for the miracle that lay within her. Perhaps this was the kind of sickness that came with pregnancy, but in 7 months, when she could hold her child in her arms, this will have all seemed like a minor speedbump, a painful hiccup on the way to her intended bliss.

Zoey rolled onto her back, the dampness of the sheets underneath her belly a truly disgusting feeling, but knowing it was just her night sweats—she paid it no nevermind.

Falling asleep once more, she envisioned Michael and their little one snuggled together on the car of the Ferris Wheel, laughing in glee as they went for one more spin.

'Just make it to that', she told herself. Get through this first trimester sickness, then it's all baby clothes, weight gain, big boobs and sore ankles.

The red button the answering machine blinked a steady rhythm, as she once again faded away into a light slumber.

__________________

Michael jabbed a long finger into the 'PH' button of the elevator, somehow believing that repeatedly pressing the button would somehow make the swinging box he was currently trapped in, move faster.

"Come on! Come ON!" He shouted, pacing back and forth in his limited space. He had called the suite twice since coming off stage, but she hadn't picked up either time. Telling himself she was likely sleeping had helped momentarily, but the expectant father inside of him could only freak out at having no contact with his wife, who had clearly not been feeling well.

The doors had barely opened when he side-slithered his slim body in between them, taking two long strides to the doors and popping in his hotel room key. The room was dark and still, the plush pink carpeting having taken on a grey tone, as the Los Angeles skyline twinkled through the windows, unblocked by the heavy velvet curtains.

"Zoey? Zoey?" He asked, rushing into the bedroom.

She lay, curled up like a lump, on her side of the bed, the whites of her eyes visible as she gave a weak wiggle of her fingers.

"Hey," she said, her voice craggy and groggy from sleep.

"Hey, squishy," he crooned, sitting down next to her and sweeping the sweat-dampened hair away from her face. "Jesus, you're sweating buckets." He skipped away to grab a hand towel out of the bathroom, as well as a hair band.

"Lift up," he whispered, as Zoey pulled her shoulders up off her pillow, enough for Michael to sweep his hands underneath her, gathering her voluminous hair. "There," he said, tying it all up into a knot at the top of her head. "Better?"

"Mmm hmm," she said, the cool breeze of the room now hitting the clammy, exposed skin of her shoulders, giving her a chill.

"Did you call the doctor?"

"I tried," she said meekly. "I fell asleep and when I called it was after hours, so I left a message."

"How are you feeling?"

"Horrible."

"You look horrible."

"There's a message on the machine, I think. I didn't listen to it. I feel like I can hardly move."

Michael scooted around to the other side of the bed and pressed the 'play' button on the machine...just as something on the bed caught his eye. The covers that she had tightly clasped around her body were disheveled on her backside, and barely covered her butt. The voice on the machine rang out, filling the room, as he flicked on the bedside lamp.

"OH JESUS."

"Zoey, this is Dr. Betty. I'm out of town up in San Luis Obispo, but called in to check messages and I heard yours. Not wasting any time Zoey—you need to get to a hospital, and NOW. The symptoms you're describing are classic signs of an ectopic pregnancy. Your ultrasound checked out completely fine, so I'm confused as to where you might have a tubal pregnancy, but I implore you, PLEASE get to Cedars-Sinai as quickly as you can. NOW. I've called Dr. Evans to alert him of your situation—he will be in the ER expecting your arrival.""Zoey! Zoey!" Michael said frantically, as he rushed to her side of the bed and ripped away the covers. "Zoey, get up, get up. We have to go to the hospital. Now. NOW." His voice was quivering in terror as her form became fully visible. "What?" She croaked, her body tensing up at having the warmth of the blankets ripped away from her. "Why?" Michael slipped her hands underneath her, gasping in horror at the state of the once crisp white sheets after pulling her away from them."Because you're bleeding all over the sheets," he said, his voice breaking from panic at the small, but harrowing pool of crimson that had collected underneath her. He sat her disoriented body upright on the bed before zooming to the telephone, barking at Bill to "call an ambulance and don't ask why". Scooping her up into a bridal hold once again, he grabbed her purse and carried her out to the suite's front doors just in time to run into a panicked, confused Bill."I called. What's going on?" Bill panted, before his face dropped in disbelief at seeing the state of Zoey's nightgown. "Oh my dear Lord in Heaven.""I don't know, I don't know," Michael whimpered, as they squeezed into the waiting elevator. "Bill. I---I....I think she's losing the baby."