One month later...
Michael's POV
Sheri and I's friendship blossomed like flowers in Spring. We stayed in touch over the phone and I'd call her every night. We often got carried away or caught up in our conversation, and neither of us would realize how late it had gotten. I'd feel bad about keeping her up but she always said that she was glad to talk, that I was worth losing out on sleep for. She made me feel like a human being; she treated me like one and that's all I've ever wanted.
Sheri brightened my days; a friendly voice might have been just what I needed to get over Diana, who still lingered like a fine, slow-burning cigarette nearly at its end, about to become ash remnants. It confused me because I found myself falling for Sheri at the same time. I always wanted to be around her, where it felt safe, like nothing bad could ever happen.
I was, without a doubt, much more talkative with Sheri on the phone. The conversations we had were never boring. Sheri loved to crack jokes and respond to my questions with her sharp tongue and witty sarcasm. I loved listening to her long, rambling stories...she was the ray of sunshine I needed in my life. I found out a lot about her: of her colorful mixed heritage—her mother's side have roots in Kenya and her father, although American, is of German descent. She's lactose intolerant, her birthday is on the tenth of December and a place she'd like to visit more than anywhere in the world is Italy, where many of her favorite plays are set.
We were talking on the phone late one night as usual, the conversation flowed smoothly and naturally like the purest of streams.
"If you could have any career in the world, what would you do?" I asked her.
"Easy. Actress. Put me on stage, put me on screen—I don't care; I just wanna act."
My mind wandered as I thought of the next question. "What's your favorite Shakespeare play?"
She answered almost instantly, "A Midsummer Night's Dream. Never gets old."
"I have a request,"
"Hit me."
"Would you act out a scene for me?"
"Michael, forget a scene; I'll put on a whole damn show for you," she laughed, "I'll even teach you as a bonus."
"What's the catch?"
"Ain't no catch," she innocently said, although her giggles gave her away, "alright, kidding. You gotta teach me how to dance like you."
"I'll teach you how to dance. I'll even dance with you."
"What's the catch?" she challenged, and I pictured her smirk.
"No catch," I replied truthfully, followed by a shifting sound on her line. "What are you doing?" I casually asked.
"Taming raptors," she joked. "Kidding. I'm in bed. Where else would I be a one-thirty in the morning?"
"Oh my God, it's that late?"
"Unless my clock's telling me lies," she yawned, "you busy tomorrow?"
"Oh boy. I might head back to my manager Frank's place after I'm done at the studio."
Or we'd shop for records. I saw Frank almost everyday once the recording went firmly underway. I avoided it for so long, darting back and forth between other projects like Captain EO and working on short films first. Eventually, it all caught up with me and I was walking on a tightrope, with very little time to get everything done by the summer.
"Hm. Tell Frank there's been a change of plans. My place at seven?"
I smiled; I'd never taken orders from another woman. "You're the boss."
She quietly yawned again.
"Sheri, are you tired, girl?"
"No," she said softly.
"Sheri..."
"Maybe...but it's alright. I wanna keep talking to you."
I blushed. "That's, um, that's so sweet of you, but you sound exhausted. I'm seeing you at seven, remember? We'll talk then."
"Oh yeah." I heard her smile. "Can't wait."
***
Tuesday 20th May 1987
I visited Sheri the next day, and she had the opportunity to meet Frank, who wanted to know who I was spending all these evenings with. When Sheri answered the door and invited us in, the first thing I noticed were her cheerful spirits. Her pretty yellow sundress peeked out from underneath her apron, and there was a speck of white flour dusted across her cheek.
"Hi, Michael! You didn't tell me you were bringing a plus-one."
My manager introduced himself formally and they shook hands, "Frank DiLeo."
"Sheri Carter. Hi," she smiled.
Joy then came running down the hall, calling my name. She jumped into my arms and hugged me.
"And you've met Joy," Sheri said, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, "we've been busy, haven't we Joy?"
"We make cookies!"
Frank bent down to level with Joy and shook her tiny hand, bringing a smile to his usually stern face. He's a natural with children.
"Do you have kids?" Sheri asked him.
"Three," he said, straightening up again, "although Michael spends so much time with them, he might as well be their daddy."
"What? Everyone knows I love children," I said, carrying Joy in my arms.
Frank chuckled, reaching into his jacket pocket for a pack of cigars, "Michael did tell me that our evening plans were to be cancelled for a pretty woman, but what he didn't tell me was that she's this pretty." He nudged my side and I immediately felt the heat rush to my cheeks.
Sheri smiled at me before offering Frank, "you wanna come in for some coffee?"
"No, thank you," he declined, "I understand why he prefers to be alone. Have fun, you two," he winked at me.
Sheri asked me to take Joy inside, so I retreated into the living room while she saw Frank out. There was some faint conversation going on. Frank did most of the talking, but neither of them were loud enough for me to decipher words.
Sheri returned to me.
And an awkward silence.
"So, you think I'm pretty?" she finally said.
Frank loved to embarrass me. I chuckled and let Joy wander around the couches, "yes." But you're beautiful.
She had that coquettish smile again. "Frank's cool. He reminds me of a 1940's gangster, like an Al Capone. Just shorter. And fatter."
"Thank God he's not around to hear you say that," I giggled.
"Yeah, I am so lucky," she laughed.
"Hold on, you got..." I gestured to her cheek, and she was confused.
I closed the space between us with a few steps. Then, I gently used my thumb to brush away the flour, just above her cheekbone. Her skin was silken, soft to the touch. She then brought my attention to the small flour handprints on my black jacket, which likely came from Joy's cuddles.
"The flour monster got you too, huh?" she chuckled, lightly dusting my shoulders and chest off. When she was done, she gazed up into my eyes, her hands still rested on me.
I cleared my throat. "I, um, got something for you."
"Damn Michael, you couldn't wait till Christmas?"
I laughed, "this really couldn't, and you'll see why."
We sat down on the couch and I revealed the small, wrapped gift from my inner jacket pocket. She accepted, and held it up to her ear and shook it, all while eyeing me with curiosity. When she finally tore the wrapper away, her initial reaction was confusion.
"This looks an awful lot like my play that got wet," she thought, examining the back and front, "but I got rid of that."
"I may have taken it," I admitted, "then I bought a new copy, and I tried to replicate the one I ruined. Only you can read this one."
A look of wonderment crossed her face as she slowly browsed the tattered pages. "Michael, you did this?"
I nodded. "Is it...similar?"
"Yes. Yes it is!" she gushed, "you even got the the ten times I wrote 'belongs to: Sheri' on point. How did you get the exact same edition?"
Before I could answer, she erupted into excitement.
"Holy shit, even the part where Duncan gets killed is gone!"
"Sorry, I had to rip it out—"
Sheri threw her arms around me. "I can't believe this!"
I returned the embrace. "I hope you like it."
She pulled away. "You kidding me? I love it! Thank you, Michael. You really went outta your way with this one."
"You're welcome. I've been feeling bad about spilling water on your book ever since and I really wanted to make it up to you. An ordinary copy just wouldn't do."
I was hopelessly addicted to her smiles by now. She leaned in and placed a delicate kiss on my cheek, leaving me too stunned to move. As if I was under a spell, my gaze was drawn to her lips that just touched my now heated face. I inwardly prayed she wouldn't notice my reaction.
Joy climbed onto the couch to join us, wanting her mother's attention. "Cookie. Mama, cookie!"
"I'm gonna go take 'em outta the oven right now, okay?" She reached around her back, fumbling with the knot of her apron. "Michael, be a doll and untie this for me."
Oh boy. I unfastened her apron from around her slim waist. I knew it was wrong and totally against everything my mother has taught me, but I was unable to take my eyes away from her back, curves and slender arms. God help me. She got up from the couch and removed the apron that obstructed her floral dress, which fit snug around her small chest and flowed from her hips, boasting confidence with class. My mind compared her petite frame to Diana's. I forced myself to stare at the floor out of being polite, but I did watch as she walked away.
We spent part of the evening entertaining Joy, who had taken a nap before we had dinner together. It felt odd to do mature, grown-up things like that, although people do that all the time. I was suddenly part of that group of people, perhaps slightly out of place, like an elephant at a mouse convention. Sheri insisted I sit and relax while she cleaned up, before joining me back in the living room.
"I heard the announcement on the radio today," Sheri said, referring to the world tour which was planned to start in September. "Japan? Sounds exciting."
"It's a wonderful country with wonderful people. Everything's been decided, but the album isn't finished yet."
"That's smart. Why set up a tour if the album isn't done? Ain't it supposed to be the other way around?"
I shrugged. "All I know is I've got a deadline."
"You should be able to do things at your own pace. I mean, are you the artist or them?"
I sighed as my response. She's right. Maybe I need to take better control of everything.
"That's what I thought...so you're the big name that gets bossed around huh?" she teased, making me giggle.
I tossed a cushion at her and she gasped. She didn't hesitate to get me back with more force.
"Hey!" I laughed.
"You started it," she chuckled, reaching for her glass of water on the table. "How's the rest of your week looking?"
"Studio, as usual. I thought about visiting these Japanese gardens tomorrow night. I've been longing for a few hours spent in a beautiful place, surrounded by nature. But I don't think Frank would be interested; it's not really his type of thing," I said, openly inviting her.
She tapped her nails on the side of her glass, already reading the subtle signs. "Gardens, huh?"
"It's supposed to be very relaxing," I persuaded.
"I can go with you."
I couldn't conceal my excitement. "Do you want to?"
"Depends what time. It's gotta be after six."
"After six," I repeated with a nod. "I'll make it happen."
It was late by the time I left. With every evening that'd draw to a close, it was like I was a fish leaving the water for land. Sheri accepted me for all I am and gave me a newfound sense of belonging. 'Normal' had taken on a completely new meaning - normal was what I felt when with her. Normal was spending time together until the sun swapped shifts with the moon. Around her, I didn't feel like Michael Jackson.
I just felt like Michael.
***
The next evening,
Wednesday 21st May 1987
Bill took Sheri and me to The Japanese Garden for seven. I rented the entire grounds for two hours since Joy was at home under the supervision of Sheri's friend - a weekday exception. She wore another dress, looking as lovely as the scenery. We enjoyed sushi and a stroll through a magnificent, man-made landscape, peaceful and serene. A sap-sweet aroma hung in the air, complimented by a natural ambiance. We walked half a mile through an oasis of vivid greenery on winding paths, past endless orchards of cherry blossom trees, on bridges over glimmering rivers, water lilies and koi fish in the hazy light of dusk. It was magical.
We stopped to rest on an illuminated wooden deck, admiring the lustre of the water, occasionally visited by a flock of glowing fireflies. We tossed stones and small rocks into the water, competing with each-other to see who could throw theirs the farthest, although neither of us were keeping score. The activity was so simple, yet it felt as if the clock had been turned back years and years and I was a kid again. Being with her kept my soul young, free and happy.
"This reminds me of the kinda places that come up in Joy's fairytale books," mentioned Sheri. "Like an enchanted forest."
"It is beautiful," I agreed. "It's hard to believe we're only twenty minutes away from your house."
Her smile was sad. "I wouldn't know about it. Kinda makes you think about what else is out there."
"It's a big world with lots to see," I said, recalling my own adventures around the planet.
"It's gotta be fun, right?"
"It's great. Wherever I go, the fans give their love and support."
"I can imagine," she quickly averted her eyes. "I don't travel much. I only know three places," and she counted them on her fingers, "work, the grocery store...make that two places."
"But you get to go home to that wonderful little girl," I said, and her smile widened, reaching her eyes.
"You're damn right I do."
"I know you once told me that doing it alone hard, but how hard?"
"Very," she sighed, "I might not look like it, but I'm always under pressure, Michael. Always."
"Sheri, you're doing everything you can, girl."
"Yeah. But at the same time, there are certain things I just can't do. And it's okay 'cause I'd rather put her needs before my wants, but sometimes I can't help but wonder about everything I'm missing out on. I mean, I'm only twenty-six. There's a great big world out there and all I've seen is a very small part of it."
"What about in the evenings? You could go out and go places," I suggested. "Like right now."
"I feel guilty for leaving her. I don't want her to start calling some sitter her mama. That's why I don't." She looked at me apologetically. "And if I do, I can't ever stay for long."
"Sheri, when was the last time you went somewhere that you wanted to go, or had time to yourself?" I questioned.
She silently bowed her head, unable to meet my eye. She dropped the last of her stones into the water all at once, and we watched them plummet with a splash, and the ripples overlap and expand after.
I gently rubbed her arm and assured her. "It's not such a bad thing to put yourself first every once in a while. That doesn't make you a selfish person."
"But I'd feel like one." She gazed down at the water, the heaven-leaking light added a golden tint to the surface and the beams kissed her skin. "At the end of the day, I just want her to be happy."
"She is, and it's all thanks to you. Sheri, you're amazing at what you do and I admire you for it. God knows I could never...and you don't need me to tell you that, because you already know it."
She turned to me and smiled. "It's twice the work, but I get twice the love."
"If there's one thing that I've learned from you, it's how to smile even when you're struggling."
"I've taught you well," she smirked, before a deep, wistful sigh escaped her lips. "Sometimes I just wish I could get away."
"What is it that you long to be away from, the norm? Or from the shackles of society?" I quizzed, trying to read her mind, which was a closed book.
"From reality," her breath uttered, dreamily. "Sounds harsh, I know."
And the book had been opened. "No, I get it. You just wanna..." and then we both said it at the same time.
"Escape."
Her eyes fastened onto mine, in a state of wonder, tinged with a kind of empathy, more intimate than any composition of words could ever be, as she held my lasting gaze in the cooling twilight. Her eyes, her lips, and her spirit smiled at me all at once, so genuine and strong that she gave it to me. I smiled back at her, unable to believe that something which many people searched an entire lifetime for was right in front of me. The seeds of hope bloomed within my heart, and she had planted them there.
She tilted her chin downwards and glanced up at me from behind her lashes, and I detected her gaze move in the shape of a triangle, from each of my eyes and then to my lips. "To answer your question back there," she began, "this is probably the first time I've gone anywhere in, well, in a long-ass time."
"Why with me, though?"
"That is why. Because it's you," she answered, taking a single step towards me, the intention in her body language.
It was quiet and tense. I swallowed hard. "What about me?"
"Everything."
We stood in silence, listening to the leaves rustle in the gentle breeze. We were so close that the warmth from her body heated mine. The sun was no longer sitting in its rightful place in the sky. It would be dark soon, and our time out was nearly up. I didn't want to let the moment pass, only for me to regret it after. I was too shy to touch her elsewhere, so I tilted her chin up to search for her eyes in the low, warm light. I tucked a single curl behind her ear, with the right amount of pressure so she knew it was intentional. She became tense. She might have wanted to say something, but she remained quiet. My nerves were tingling like they'd been tickled with a feather. In that moment, the conquering thought was how the light danced on her perfectly, and how beautiful she looked.
If I didn't take the chance, would it have been lost it forever?
Her eyes were already locked onto mine. I leaned in closer and kissed her, so softly and so tenderly. The kiss that sent us both on a long journey, bringing about sweet sensations which hinted at new beginnings, long anticipated. Her lips parted slightly, showing her approval. I kissed her once again and moved my hand up to cup her face in a slow attempt to draw her closer to me. She trembled from my touch, she was still. Stunned, perhaps. I had an urge to run my hands through her hair, which was kept back. The experience was unreal, like a dream...her lips were velvet-soft. I could tell that her heart was racing from her uneasy breathing. But so was mine. Nerves, excitement, and attraction. Her reaction made me feel like a kid again in the best way, as if it was the first time I'd ever kissed someone. It gave me a rush, and I wanted to dream it all over again.
Sheri suddenly broke the kiss and pulled away, and I woke up.
"Wait," she whispered.
I ended all physical contact with her after hearing the apprehension in her voice. Did I read the signs wrong? Have I made a terrible mistake? I feared that the amity we formed, which had begun with quiet conversation and the touch of a hand, alongside easy smiles and an unspoken word of friendship without judgment, had been shattered.
I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Sheri, I-"
"No. Don't be sorry," she murmured, with her arms crossed over her chest.
I replayed the last few moments in my mind over and over again, desperate to figure out what went wrong and why, so that I could try to make it right again. The sound of her voice broke my train of thought.
"I have to go, Michael...sorry..."
Before I could protest, she left, and I wasn't brave enough to stop her. Her footsteps became more distant as she walked down the deck at a hastened pace. Alone, and now only accompanied by the sounds of trickling water, I searched around me for an answer. Initially, my mind told me that I should let her go. She was clearly not ready; it was more than she could handle, and I had taken things too far. But my heart, potent and full with feeling, told me otherwise. I decided to go after her.
Following the shortest route, I managed to catch up to her, calling out her name, though she wouldn't listen. I attempted to explain and apologise, which got us nowhere. We reached the car which was parked at the entrance. She got in, so I had no choice but to quickly do the same before we'd be noticed. Bill hadn't returned since our allocated time in the gardens was yet to expire.
"Sheri," I said quietly, not wanting to startle her. "What happened back there?"
Her eyes became fixated on the window as words spilled from her lips like a fountain, "I...I don't know what to tell you, Michael. I mean, you already know what the deal is with me, and..."
"I didn't mean to put you in an uncomfortable position."
She glanced at me. "You surprised me."
I nervously bit my thumbnail. "So...w-what's the problem?"
"Michael, it's been a really long time since I..." she sighed and shut her eyes in frustration. "I don't do this whole relationship thing, 'cause of my daughter and work and what happened the last time and trying to-"
"Sheri,"
"What?"
"You're doing that thing again," I reminded her she was rambling.
She sighed again. Though the silence was suffocating, she needed a few minutes to clear her head and calm her nerves without any interruptions. I moved closer so that we were sat beside each-other.
"Sheri, just talk to me, please," I whispered.
"I don't know if I can do this."
"Do what?"
"This. Us."
There was a list of reasons of why she was unwilling to put down her guard...but which one? "What is it that's holding you back?"
Her voice was faint. "I can't get my heart broken. Not again."
"Sheri, what makes you think I'd do that to you?"
"It's what I think every man will do to me if I let him."
"Sheri, you won't know unless you put someone to the test."
"Would you cross the street if you're afraid of cars?" she questioned, and I understood what she meant. "Look, Michael. Over the past few weeks I've felt really close to you and I can't tell you how much I love being in your company. But I don't know if I can-"
"Trust me?"
She looked away apologetically.
"Do you remember what we said that night?" I recalled, "you asked me to trust you, and I do. I need you to trust me, too."
"It ain't that easy. I'm coming from a hurt place."
So am I. It was too late. There was no way that I could tell her; painting another woman into the picture would cause Sheri to wait for me, until I fully heal. So much of my life had already been exposed to her, things personal and private, which would otherwise be locked in my head with the key thrown away.
"I know, but I can help you get out of there, and you won't ever have to go back." I said sincerely, letting my hand fall upon hers. "The thing about trust is that it relies on the unknown."
"I hate it when you're right," she chuckled.
I smiled for a moment, "don't you think it's obvious that there's something going on between us? I know there must be, because I feel it."
"I don't wanna like anyone, Michael. But you're making it really hard not to like you,"
Is that a compliment?
"and if there really is something there," she took a shaky breath, "I don't think I can do it."
I her tilted her chin up to meet my gaze. "I promise you, I'm not going to make you do anything. But I also promise to be there and care for you, even if it leaves me wishing and waiting. You have my word."
Her eyes softened and her wry smile tugged at my heartstrings. Her palm lightly touched my cheek. "You're a real good guy, Michael. I see that and I know you only want what's best. But I think we should just stay friends."
Her words crushed my feelings. While she was protecting herself from heartbreak, I was willing to put my heart on the line again and give to her everything that she deserves. But she wouldn't see me as anything more than a friend, because she didn't want to, because she was afraid. Being rejected caused my confidence to crumble, and once again, I wondered why I was not enough. This unreturned affection was hopeless, painful, and it left me shattered. It happened with Diana, and I feared that the same was happening with Sheri.
"I can't be just a friend to you if—"
"Let's just forget that it even happened," she wished.
Forget about it? "Sheri, I'm not gonna be able to forget. I don't want to, I—"
The car's front door opened and shut.
Twenty seconds passed before Bill noticed us sitting in the backseats when he looked into the rear view mirror.
"You kids back already? What was the hurry?"
Neither of us said anything as we exchanged glances.
Bill waited for an answer. "I'll start on home then?"
"Yeah. We'll take Sheri home," I quietly confirmed, secretly surprised that she let me speak for her.
I shifted back to my seat by the tinted window. I prayed that Bill wouldn't sense the tension in the air, and even lowered the window ever so slightly, as if it would slowly filter out of the car. The journey home was wordless and uncomfortable, taking what seemed like forever. It was a one in a million chance that I ran into Sheri at that diner. I could have gone for a walk in a different part of town or have stayed home that Saturday in March. I thought this was what she wanted. She isn't scared of love, she's scared of being hurt again. I should've never kissed her.
Once we made it there, I could finally breathe again. Sheri avoided looking at me for the entire time, even when she opened her door to get out. I reached out for her arm, stopping her mid-way.
All I left her with was a small plea which could lead to bigger things. "Think about it."
By the end of the night, I returned to the harsh, everyday reality of loneliness, heartbreak and sorrow. It became clear that Sheri was the only person who could help me get through it all. I wondered how I'd ever be able to see her again without the shame constantly there in the back of my mind. I decided to give us both some time and space to think. We both needed it.
***
Author's Note
This was a little long and eventful but I hope you enjoyed it! Ah! They finally kissed. Plenty more where that came from, guys. Please vote/comment/share! <3