Hold Me Tight, And Don't Let Go (On Hold)

Chapter 20: Rolling

I just don't feel....comfortable with it. For some reason Michael's words was replaying in my head like the lyrics to a favorite song. It was almost as of he was there, right next me. I could feel the frustration and strain in his voice, hear the shaky worry within his throat as he allowed the words to flow through his lips.

I could picture the look on his face. His perfectly squared jaw lime clenched along with his lips forcing to stay together in a thin straight line. The concern that touched his chocolate brown eyes that was cover by the few curls that over shadowed them.

He really had a bad feeling about it.

I wondered why I didn't think about bit before. He said that he didn't like me or. Miguel coming here alone. I thought it was just out of the fact that we wasn't going to be home when he came back from work everyday. I wondered what could have possibly gone threw his mind at that particular time.

I looked over at Miguel, he was still sleeping silently in his seat. His soft caramel skin glowed in the New York sun. I reached over and pressed my hand against his warm cheek and smiled.

"Can I ask you something private?"

I glanced up at the driver who was staring at me through the mirror. " Excuse me?"

A smile stretched across his sun burned face. " Can I ask you something?"

" What?"

"Are you," He chuckled before continuing. " are you Theresa Morrison- Jackson? You're married to Michael Jackson."

I sighed." Yes, but its just Theresa Jackson. Morrison was cut out three years ago."

"I knew it, I've seen you on the cover of so many magazines that I couldn't miss you. All though your hair switches between black and brown a lot."

I sucked my teeth and rolled my eyes, he wasn't the only one who judged me for my lack of decision on my hair color. " I'm used to being recognized, it kind of fits in the whole category of being Michael Jackson's wife."

"So you do have an accent, I thought that was just for the media."

"Why on earth would I pretend to be Brazilian for the media?" I asked, kind of offended.

I saw him shrug his shoulders." I don't know, most celebrities do stupid things like that, I just thought you were one of them."

" That is the most asinine thing I have ever heard of. You are what you are, there's no need of changing it."

" Indeed," He said softly. " You have a point. I just thought it would make you sexier than you already are."

I felt my face crumble up in utter disgust. What the hell? I didn't even want to look at him." Um, no, this is my natural accent." I mumbled, hoping this would be the end of this uncomfortable conversation.

"So you were  born in  Brazil?"

" Obviously,"

"Did you grow up there?"

" No,"

"Do you speak-"

" Could you just get me to the air port, please, sir?"

He stared at me for a moment then looked back on the road." I am sorry, I'm just interested, that's all."

" Interested in what?" I asked, frustrated. " Me?"

He only nodded.

"Why?"

" I don't know, I'm just curious."