... And There She Was

Chapter 36

'For you'
They'll be no more crying'

The smell of jasmine scented candles, along with the golden hues of their flickering flames, filled the open space of the bedroom. The windows open but with their curtains drawn, let the brisk winds of the Santa Ynez evening whip around the room, coating all in its path with their skin-tingling coolness.

Their dark eyes met.

Their skin touched.

And their bodies, as shy and as uncertain as though it were the first time all over again, found their way back to whom they belonged.

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered, his form hovering over her body as his moist words flowed into her parted mouth.

"You won't," she replied. "I promise."

"Is this alright?" He asked, letting his weight settle more on top of her.

"Mmm hmmm."
'For you'
'The sun will be shining'

'And I feel that when I'm with you'
'It's alright...'
'I know it's right...'

She felt a hot tear fall upon her sweaty skin. It mixed with one of her own. She laced her fingers into the soft curls at the nape of his neck as he continued to sway their bodies to the rhythm of his own making."Are you okay?" He panted against her lips."Mmm hmm," she whimpered in response, craning her head up to catch his lips."Are you?" He murmured between headed embraces."Yes."

'To you, I'll give the world'

'To you, I'll never be cold'
'Cause I feel that when I'm with you'
'It's alright...'
'I know it's right...''To you, I'll never be cold'
'Cause I feel that when I'm with you'
'It's alright...'
'I know it's right...'

"Ouch..." she whimpered, having tried as hard as she could for as long as she could, to hold it back. Michael eased his lower half off of her some, relieving the brunt of his weight off her sometimes-still-tender tummy scar.

"Better?" He whispered, kissing her tenderly.

"Yes. Just...just hold me."

"I will. Forever. I love you, I love you, I love you..." He trailed off, beginning his movements once more as he framed her flushed face with his hands, smoothing her hair back and kissing every possible patch of skin within reach. Appeasing her request, he slid his hands in between the slight space between her damp back and the satin of their bedsheets, pulling her into him as their bodies trembled in heated tandem.

"Hold me. Hold me as tight as you possible can..."
'And the songbirds are singing'
'Like they know the score'
'And I'll love you, I'll love you, I'll love you...
'Like never before...'

____________________

At 34 weeks pregnant, Maddie was ready to pop like an over-stuffed turkey. Despite her discomfort, swollen ankles and need to pee every hour on the hour, her baby shower was a total success, going off without a hitch. About 80 guests came for the celebrations, which Zoey orchestrated like a world-class conductor. The bottoms of cups were never seen, plates were always full, kids of their friends were kept happy and content with the multitude of activities, and the sunshine stayed out to play all day long. Maddie, never one to let her emotions get the best of her, had nearly crumbled into a full-blown sobfest when opening her gifts. Baby bibs, pacifiers, little outfits (unisex—for she had yet to reveal the baby's gender), furniture, strollers, toys, rattles, butt paste and diapers were in abundance, and too overwhelmed at the generosity of her dear friends and family, Maddie became, as one would say, 'verklempt'. Later that evening, before retreating back to her Neverland cottage with Jake, Uncle Mike and Aunt Zoey gave their own private gift to the happy couple, something substantial that they didn't feel necessary to flaunt in front of the others: The Baby Preston College Trust Fund.She really lost it then.

Zoey held herself together the entire time, even after watching Maddie open her other gift from the couple, a box containing a picture of the crib that Zoey had planned on buying for her little one. She had shown her best friend the picture before the accident, gushing over its beauty and charm, and when Maddie opened her present and saw the photo, she remembered it immediately. Blinking back the tears and blowing her soulmate a kiss, she held the photo close to her heart before quickly moving on to another present.

Zoey felt Michael's strong hand reassuringly squeeze her shoulder from behind, then the tickle of his fingertips as he scratched her back. She'd talked it over with him, and they'd decided it was too beautiful a crib to pass up. If they couldn't have it, their new niece or nephew deserved it just as much.

When the last cup of punch had been drunk and the last corn dog eaten, the pair left the mess for the next day and staggered to their room. Flopping down on the bed with a dramatic huff, Zoey lifted a foot up in the air.

"Help," she squeaked. "Help."

"What?" Michael laughed.

"Shoe. Help."

Chuckling, Michael wrapped his strong hand around her tiny foot and slipped off the purple sandal. "Better?" He asked, kneading his strong thumbs into the stiff soles of her tired feet.

"Mmmm...." she groaned, a moment away from sleep.

"Flip over."

Obeying him, she sleepily and very ungracefully squirmed her body over on her stomach. She felt Michael pop off her other shoe, then his hands again as they lavished attention on the other foot, both her ankles, and tight calves.

It...felt....so....good.......

"Are you drooling?"

"Yesh," she slurred through her slobber. After what felt like a solid 30 minutes of her husband's impromptu and relaxing massage, she felt his body fall down next to hers, then an open-palmed wallop on her butt.

"Good party, Squishy. Ya done good," he said, his hand still resting on her stinging butt.

"Thanks, Peanut. She looked happy, didn't she."

"She sure did," he said softly. "And I'm proud of you, too." He rolled onto his side and into her, planting a gentle kiss on her sun-kissed, freckled shoulder. "I know how hard it must have been. I felt you tense up a couple of times during the presents."

"I was okay," she whispered with a shrug. "Life goes on."

"Indeed it does," he agreed, giving her a rough kiss on the forehead.

After a turn with Michael being the massage receiver instead of the giver, pillow talk and snuggling, their playful frolic soon dissolved into them falling asleep, fully clothed, on the top of their bed covers. It was well into the nighttime and their exhausted state of comatose had barely let them move or shuffle, until the shrill ring of their private line had both of them bolting upright.

"What...the...heck?" Michael mumbled, fumbling around on the bedside table, knocking over the lamp and several photo frames in the process. He felt Zoey's weight flop onto his stomach, as she hurled her half-alert body over his to snatch the phone away just as he was about to grab it.

"Hello?" She asked groggily. "WHAT?! Oh crap. Okay, okay, stay calm. Um....we'll....um....we'll be right there." She slammed the phone back down onto the cradle. "MIKE GET UP NOW!" Zoey shouted, steamrolling over him to land her feet on the floor before taking off like a prized greyhound towards their bathroom to slap some water on her face.

"Maddie's water broke!" She said through splashes. "We gotta take her to the hospital, she's HAVING THE BAAABBBBYYYYY!!!"

"I thought she wasn't due for another 3 weeks, or something?!" He said, shrugging out of his wrinkled pants and running around the room in just his t-shirt and white socks. A sexy sight, for sure.

"She isn't! But it's definitely happening! Oh my God, what do we do where do we go we need to, to, to, to get to the hospital in town...MIKE...would you find some PANTS??!!!"

"DON'T YELL AT ME!!!"

"MOOOOOOVE!!!!!!"
.
.
.
.
.
.

16 hours later

"He's the sweetest, most cutest, most pinkest, most perfectest baby ever! Yes you are! Yessss you are!" Zoey cooed at the bundle of wrinkly baby in her arms. "I just love you so much already, Mr. Kyle. I'm going to spoil you rotten with love and treats and toys and games and presents and puppies and I will always, always have gum in my purse. Yes I will! Yes I will!"

Maddie, sweaty and exhausted, but positively glowing with the light of new motherhood, watched on from her hospital bed. Jake was out calling far-away relatives, their parents were napping in the visitors lounge, and Michael was in the cafeteria gathering up food for everyone. The small hospital in the downtown area of Santa Ynez was positively sleepy, and as Michael was a resident they'd seen around time and time again, no one was fazed by his presence. Autographs and pictures abound, sure, but nothing like the chaos a scene at LA's Cedars Sinai would have caused. Aside from being a new uncle all over again, ordering sandwiches and pasta platters in peace like a normal person had quickly become the highlight of his day.

"Ya done good, kid," Zoey said, sneaking a peek at her friend out the top of her eyes.

"I know," Maddie sighed. "I just....I can't believe he's mine."

"It's surreal."

"It's totally surreal. I'm just glad he's healthy. I was hysterical when I went into labor early. I didn't know what to expect."

"Oh God yes. Kyle says 'I'm kinda little and I came kinda early but I'm a big strong boy already, yes I am! I was so eager to meet everyone, so I broke out early, that's all!'" Zoey traced the smooth pad of her finger down the delicate bridge of the newborn's nose. "He's just so perfect," she gushed. "Do you need him back?"

"Yes, gimme," Maddie cooed, reaching her arms out for her son. "I think its time for some boob anyways."

"Some boob," Zoey repeated chuckling, handing off the swaddled bundle of joy like a priceless porcelain vase.

She watched on in both heart-swelling pride but also a tiny twinge of envy, as Maddie nursed her little man.

"What does it feel like?" Zoey asked, sinking back into her chair and trying to get as comfy as possible, should she nod off. The baby shower took it out of her, and an hour of sleep before rushing the parents to the hospital followed by 14 hours of pacing wasn't nearly enough. Now that little Kyle was safely here and mom and baby were fine, the Land of Sleep was soon to beckon.

"What, this?" Maddie asked. "Um...odd?"

"Really?"

"I mean, it feels great. Great in that I'm feeding my son, but...yeah. It just feels....funny," she laughed, though stilling her body when Kyle gave a squeak.

"It's not everyday a tiny person chews on your boobie."

"Indeed."
"Where is that good for nothin' hubby of mine?" Zoey smiled after her stomach let out a deafening growl that even Maddie heard.

"I aint going nowhere," Maddie said, relaxing her weary head back onto the fluffy pillow of her bed. "Go track him down. He probably got distracted by the vending machines, or something."

"Feed your baby, mommy," Zoey chided, blowing Maddie a kiss before grabbing her wallet and disappearing down the hallway. The sights, smells and sounds gave her system a small tinge of post-traumatic stress disorder, as after being discharged from the hospital, she swore she'd never again be able to associate them with anything other than negativity, loss and sadness.

Maddie was a mother. She still couldn't believe it. It hadn't processed in her mind yet that her closest, dearest friend had a son. A son. Crazy, wild Maddie. The girl who once upon a time had never met a boy whose pants she didn't try to get into. The girl who called things as she saw them with little regard to her surroundings and often times, tact. The girl who had been a selfless, solid as a rock friend to Zoey the second she stepped foot on Californian soil for the first time.

She remembered painting the walls in the bakery with her prior to the shop even opening. She remembered hauling in their first load of products, the two of them trying to heave a 50 pound bad of flour to the bin only for it to rip apart and dust the entire workshop in powder white. She remembered staying up all night long, eating nachos and candy and watching Three's Company and Welcome Back, Kotter.

After the death of her parents and her subsequent float into the world of an orphan, a life whose only guarantee was that there were no guarantees, few happy memories existed. Maddie changed all that, with her friendship, her love, her spirit, her drive and her support.

The first person to truly get her. She had never truly been gotten before, but Maddie changed all that. She saw through the fright and the sadness and the wounds and the abandonment and said "I love you just as you are, and if you try to act any other way, I'll stick my boot up your ass. So don't even try."

The person responsible, all the years ago, for sending Zoey in the direction that would practically deliver her to the footsteps of the love of her life.

The little life she had brought into the world couldn't have asked for a better mother. Just as Maddie and Jake were blessed and lucky to have their little man here in the world, safe and sound, Kyle was just as lucky to have the parents he did.

Zoey no longer felt empty inside. She no longer felt the tug, however lessening, of the loss of life she had to bear. She knew she could no longer privately curse anyone who would listen within her own heart, for taking away what she wanted to give herself and her husband.

She could only celebrate the new one that had blessed the world with his presence, a mere few hours ago.

"Excuse me, ma'am," a kind young voice rang out from the nurse's station. "You can't go in there."

"Go...in...huh?" Zoey asked perplexed. She looked to the doors in front of her to be confronted with a giant red 'X'. "Whoops!!" She laughed. In her reflective daydream, she'd nearly wandered into the restricted surgery area of the mother/baby wing. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

"It's not a problem Mrs. Jackson," she petite blond smiled, before looking back down to her paperwork.

The words hit Zoey like a bolt of lightening straight to the chest, nearly knocking the wind out of her system. She'd heard them before, but had always been able to correct the person and shrug them off. It had never affected her so. It had never made her stop dead in her tracks.

"Mrs----Mrs Jackson?" She stuttered, approaching the desk.

"Yes, I mean....I'm sorry if...if you don't want me to say that...." The nurse stammered, unknowing if she had somehow overstepped her boundaries. Of course she knew who Michael was, and of course she knew who Zoey was.

"No, no please, it's fine," Zoey chirped. She flashed a smile, afraid the nurse perhaps thought she was mad at her. "It's just, well....I mean yeah I am, but...it's....um, not exactly, it's complicated...can I use your phone?"

"Sure?" The nurse answered, pointing out the phone at the edge of the counter for patient and guest use. "Press 9 for an outside line."

Jamming the familiar numbers into the telephone, Zoey impatiently yet excitedly tapped her foot in anticipation.

"Hey Paula, it's Zoey, may I talk to John please?"

She waited for the transfer.

"Branca! Hey, it's Zoey. Good, good, thanks. Oh he did already? Oh, gosh about...15 hours? Yes, yes he's adorable and perfect and pink and squishy. Hahahaha. They're fine, she's good. Say hey, I need your help with something. Pretty sure it's going to involve lots of paperwork. You have our official marriage certificate in the vault, right?"

_____________________________

"I'm so glad your mom has come around on the birthday stuff," Zoey smiled, whipping the pickle relish, onions and mayonnaise into the hard-boiled egg yolks.

"Yeah, me too," Michael replied, passing behind her and giving her butt a sassy swat. "Deviled eggs?"

"Yup."

"Why didn't you let the cooks do that?"

"Because these are my specialty."

"Everything is your specialty, my little Squisherston."

"D'awwwww. Sweet peanut," she cooed, tilting her head back to kiss him as he hovered behind her.

"I try," he said before trapping her body with one arm and dipping the fingers of his free hand into the deviled egg filling.

"Eeeeeeek!" She squealed, struggling to get out of his grasp and save her delectable side dish. "Stop eating it all!!!"

"I can't help it," he said, releasing her and taking a quick hop away from her, just as the front doorbell chimed. "Ut oh! Sorry baby! Gotta greet the guests!"

"This isn't over!!" She bellowed after him, her whisk weilded high in the air. Blobs of egg mixture fell to the hardwood floor, but the rapid click of hooves and the eager oink of a certain gluttonous pig let her know that cleaning it up wouldn't be necessary.

"Go get it, ya fat Hoover," she said to Sophie as she trotted by in her new outfit, complete with a sequined tiara and frilly green tutu.

Don't judge.

Birthday celebrations for Michael's 31st year were underway, as family and friends gathered at the outdoor grill of Neverland for food, fun, games and presents. Growing up as a Witness, birthdays were not celebrated in the Jackson household, and Michael frequently bemoaned missing out on this important celebration, yet something else that separated him from those in his own peer group. It was hard enough being a child performer and frequently not being present at school, but to add insult to injury as being the "weird" kid who couldn't bring cupcakes to class on his birthday or participate in the Christmas present exchange didn't help much either.

Jermaine cooked burgers at the grill, Marlon worked the bar, and the multitude of other Jacksons flitted about, filling up their plate at the buffet with potato chips, barbeque baked beans, fruit and marshmallow salad, and assorted pies. The wives all cooed over little Kyle, who had grown to a robust 3 months old and happily rocked in his swinger, staring up at all the pretty ladies who couldn't get enough of his chubby face.

The young children played in the grassy open area, chasing each other with water guns and water balloons, while the bigger ones were allowed to skip off to the zoo or the amusement park, with supervision of course. The August weather let the sunshine beat down on their exposed shoulders, but the crisp winds of the valley kept the heat at bay.

It was as perfect a day as you could hope for.

"You guys, this is too much," Michael whined, plopping down on one of the padded love seats as everyone settled in a semi-circle around him, waiting for present time. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squirmed in his seat at the multitude of eyes focused in his direction.

75,000 people? No problem.

Thirty? Basketcase.

One by one, he opened up his gifts. A beautiful new watch from Zoey, some dress shirts from Jermaine, vintage bottles of wine from Marlon, cologne from his mother, hand-made cards and presents from the children. He ooed and aahed over them all, his excitement not a façade or an act that some people feel they need to put on when being showered with gifts. With Michael, he was always genuinely overwhelmed that people would think of him enough to buy him a present. Even a macaroni shell necklace from one of his nieces nearly sent him into sobs.

He was so touched by everything.

By anything.

Gentleness and kindness was a part of his nature. It was who he was.

"Thank you so much everyone, what a blessing this day has been," he said as everyone began to twitter about, starting to try and head back to the buffet table to hit up more cake or potato salad.

"I have one more present," Zoey said softly. "I—I have one more present!!" The mulling about stopped as her small voice managed to ring out over the hum of their much louder ones.

Michael eyed her with a slight smirk, wondering what she was up to now. He peered at her with quizzical eyes, watching her lower lip disappear in between her teeth as she reached into the slot of space between the patio cushion and the arm of their couch. She pulled out a small, thin red box. Something that could hold just a check, or maybe a gift card. Shuffling, she handed it to him as she tucked a leg underneath her butt, turning her body to face his. She reached behind him to tickle her fingers across the back of his neck.

"Open it," she said softly, biting back her smile.

Michael stared at her, taking in all of her. Her freckles, her shy smile, the twinkle of her dark eyes. Her trademark hair, long and wavy, caressed her bare shoulders, exposed by her butter yellow tank top. Before leaving the house, she'd asked if she had looked like Ronald McDonald. Wisely, he had said no.

Pulling the white ribbon off the box, he removed the lid and pulled back the few tissue papers. The onlookers were silent. They knew...they could feel, there might be something particularly special about this gift.

His brow furrowed a bit as he stared at the laminated piece of plastic inside. "What is—" he began to ask with a smile, when it hit him.

His jaw slightly dropped open in agape, gasping slightly. A trembling hand reached up to cover his mouth, rubbing his lips slightly. Zoey could see his eyes gloss over with emotion. Michael just stared at it, his hand covering his mouth, and began to nod.

"Wow," he finally managed to croak out. "Wow." Laughing, he pressed the back of his hand into one eye, as the other still delicately clutched his last present. "Wow." He said again, clearly speechless.

Zoey smiled, loving his reaction. She knew it was something quite personal to do in front of his entire family, but since it technically concerned them, she knew she'd never find a better opportunity. She leaned forward to plan a kiss on his warm cheek, squeezing his shoulders. "You like it?"

"Welll....what is it?" Katherine asked, inching forward into her seat, wanting to know what had gotten her baby so choked up.

Michael took one more look at the card, then pinched it between his fingers, turning it around to face the crowd.

"It's Zoey's I.D. Her driver's license," he laughed through a couple happy tears that try as they might to stay put, had fallen. "She had her name changed. She's officially a Jackson."

___________________________

"I'm nervous," she said, staring at the telephone. Michael was saddled up beside her on the couch of the main living room, and they sat side by side, looking to the telephone in front of them, as though afraid to touch it.

"Me too," he replied.

"You do it," she said.

"You do it."

"I can't."

"You have to, they'll know my voice the second I say hello."

"They'll know my name the second I say it."

"Look, we are who we are, and we're doing what we're trying to do. They're going to know it's us eventually. At some point."

"What if they think it's a joke and hang up?"

"They won't," he said. "Come on, Squishy. In the grand scheme of this process, this will likely be the easiest step. If we freak out over this, how are we going to handle the rest?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding her head. "Yeah. Yeah. You're right. Okay. Good thoughts."

"We're just asking for information, they can't judge us based on that."

"Stay calm."

"Yes, stay calm," he repeated, rubbing her back soothingly. "You ready?"

"I think. Okay. Okay. I'm ready."

"Here," he said, pushing a piece of paper in front of her. "The number."

Zoey cracked her knuckles and gave each of her hands a quick shake. "Okay. Here goes." She held out a hand palm-side up, which Michael grabbed immediately, interlacing his fingers into hers.

The phone rang once, twice, three times.

"Deep breath," he whispered, pulling her hand up to his lips, caressing it softly.

The ringing stopped.

"Thank you for calling Sunrise Agencies, how may I help you today?"

"Hello," Zoey responded confidently. "I'm—we're calling because we'd like to request to receive your latest information packet."

She turned to Michael to see his face aglow in a smile that spread from ear to ear, nodding encouragingly.

"We're wanting to begin the adoption process."