Continued...
Sheri's POV
Faith was sobbing like she had a case of the hiccups, talking outta her head. I figured out that it was something to do with her fiancé. On the third message she left, she berated me for not answering her calls. On the fourth, she completely let go and just recorded herself crying and crying and crying! I chewed my nail as I listened to 'em, all the way to the fifth message, then I decided to call her back. I was worried about her, but she wasn't the one who answered.
"Hello? Faith? Is that you?"
"No," the woman chuckled, "it's Grace."
In the background, Grace yelled for Faith to come downstairs, that there was someone who wanted to speak to her.
"Sheri! Where on earth have you been? I've been trying to get through to you all day!" Faith babbled.
I sighed, "I was out, okay?"
"Yeah. I know! I went to your house earlier and an old Spanish lady opened the door. What was that all about?!"
I jerked my head away from the receiver because her voice was so sharp. "Calm down, Faith. It doesn't matter. Now, you wanna tell me what's wr—"
"Clearly it matters if it was too important that you couldn't miss it. Do you know how bad I needed you? I thought you'd be at home all day."
I felt guilty for half-lying to her. "I was on a date," I mumbled. "There is someone. Was someone. That what you wanted to hear?"
"A date. Really?" she scoffed. "I knew you were up to something."
"Will you tell me what the hell is wrong?"
"If you really must know, I went into the office today and I, I—" she was overcome with emotion and started to hyperventilate.
I spoke softly, "Faith, Faith, what happened?" It's gotta be Baldy.
"It was Carl," she cried.
Bingo.
"I went into his office today during his lunch break and they were about to..."
"Take a deep breath, Faith,"
She cried for a few seconds before speaking up again, "he had her over his desk! His desk, Sheri!" she bawled.
So he is cheating. I knew exactly how she felt. "Shit. I'm so, so sorry you had to find out like that. And I'm sorry that it happened to you."
"I understand that you have a really busy life and that's why you couldn't go with me when I asked you to, but you could go on a date with some guy?"
He's not just some guy. "Faith, you don't understand. I couldn't tell anyone about it."
"I can't believe you, Sheri. You're my friend. You were supposed to be there for me."
I rubbed my forehead. "Look, I really am sorry, okay? I mean it. I should've told you what I was up to. What are you doing now? Where's Carl?"
"I honestly haven't got a clue. I'm calling from Grace's."
I quickly thought of a solution. "How about—"
"No. I thought I could count on you, Sheri. Guess not."
She hung up on me.
The telephone wanted to be the center of attention for the rest of the evening as Michael kept calling, all the way into the late night. I sat on the edge of the bed and listened to that repetitive, annoying ring, deciding on whether to answer or not. What happened was scary as hell. It was like an ambush. I thought for sure I'd get stepped on all over like a freshly-cleaned floor. It had been months and months of going around and around in circles till I finally gave this whole dating-thing a chance after so long, I was ready to play the field again.
And look what happened.
I guess what really pissed me off is that people just couldn't give the man a break, right next to the obvious fact that our evening together ended so early and all I wanted, more than anything, was for it to work. Was that so much to ask?
I stared at the telephone and it rang so hard I could've sworn it was rattling. Maybe I should answer. I don't want him to get worried about me. But I don't know what I'll say to him. I sighed and picked up the receiver before the incessant ringing would wake up my daughter.
I tried to sound normal. "Hello...?"
He bombarded me with a billion questions, "Sheri? Oh, thank God you're here. Are you okay? Why did you leave like that? You had me so worried about you, girl. Bill and I looked all over for you and—"
"I'm fine. I was just a little shaken up. You didn't seem like you'd ever make it outta that crowd so I left," I said.
"I tried telling you to wait for me. How did you get home?"
"I took the bus back,"
He let out a sigh of relief in the background as if he took the receiver away for a second. "God, I was worried. Did you get back okay? You weren't followed, were you?"
That sounded frightening, but he said it so casually. "Should I have been?"
"I-I don't know. It happens sometime..."
I rubbed my eyes. "No, I wasn't followed, um..."
Silence.
"Sheri? Are you there?"
"Yeah," I quietly replied, "still here."
He stuttered, "you sure you're okay?"
I opened my mouth to give some sort of reply to him, but a soft wail from the next room interrupted me. Should've picked up the phone earlier.
"Listen, Michael, I gotta go,"
"You don't wanna talk?" he said.
The crying got louder.
"It's not that I don't wanna. I can't. Joy needs me. I gotta go."
I put the receiver down took the telephone line off the hook for the promise of silence before I checked on my daughter.
II wondered if that was the last time we'd ever have a phone conversation. But I lost sleep that night knowing that if it wasn't for the date, I could have been there for Faith when she needed me the most.
***
The next day...
I stayed at home all day long. I wasn't expecting any visitors, but in the afternoon, Faith turned up at my doorstep. She was holding a destroyed, flaky tissue to her nose, which she dabbed at her red pleading eyes. I silently let her in and pulled her in for a hug, comforting her and letting her know that everything would be okay. She wasn't crying much anymore, which was good 'cause I don't know how to react around crying adults.
She sat on the couch, sniffling often, while I made us two coffees. Faith told me in detail everything that happened: the time of day and everything that she saw, and what she did after. She entered Carl's office at around one p.m.; he forgot to lock the door. The blinds were drawn, and there he stood behind his secretary with her panties around her ankles, both of 'em seconds away from the act. Faith admitted that she made a total scene; she screamed the place down, trashed his entire office, tore down his calendar from the wall, threw his neatly-stacked paperwork off his desk and ended up damaging their framed photo in the process. Carl told her beforehand that he was to be ambushed by masses of paperwork, even during his lunch break, so she couldn't go and visit him. But she braved to go anyway, by herself. Maybe if I went along, his office could've at least been spared.
As hurt as Faith was, I advised her to give Carl another chance, 'cause she could. What happened with me was different. It was broken and there was no way to ever fix things. But Carl didn't leave, unlike Khalil. They were to be married, for crying out loud. And I knew Faith wouldn't break things off with him - not with the number of wedding invitations she had already printed out. Kidding...she had a lot more to lose, like an entire future. She wanted to be able to play happy families a little more with each sunset and sunrise. She needed time away from Carl, so I advised her to stay at her sister Grace's.
Faith asked me about my date. I said it went down in flames.
"But who was the guy?" she quizzed.
I sipped my coffee and diverted my eyes from her. "I ain't really supposed to say, Faith."
"Just tell me. Is he like...an FBI?" she guessed lazily, "a prince?"
I shook my head. "He's a public figure. Everybody knows him."
"Even me?"
"Yeah. Even you." Joy waddled over to the couch and I picked her up and set her in my lap.
"Oh. So he's like a celebrity?"
I paused. I didn't like the term. Michael's no celebrity to me—he's just simply Michael. "Yeah, if you want. A celebrity."
Faith's eyes widened as big as the moon and she said in an undertone, "who is he?"
"You're not gonna believe me," laughed.
Faith pulled my arm. "Oh, please tell me, Sheri!"
Anything to cheer her up. I said it and it was surprisingly easy and it sounded more normal than I thought, "Michael Jackson."
Faith blinked and her mouth made an open ring. "D-did you just say—"
"Uh-huh,"
She looked to the left, then back at me and said, really dramatically, "really?"
I nodded. Then she asked what I knew was coming next.
"How?"
I shrugged. "He walked into The Maple one night. It happened the same way it would with anyone. We talked, hit it off and he asked me out."
Faith shook her head in disbelief. "I don't believe you."
"You seen the papers today?" I asked.
"No...why?"
I got up for a second. When I returned, I tossed the daily newspaper on the coffee table in front of her.
"Now you'll believe me,"
Front page. A snapshot of him and I.
She slowly reached for the newspaper and read the headline out loud.
'JACKO'S PYT'
She pointed excitedly at the photo of us hand-in-hand as we were entering the restaurant. "That's you! Sheri!"
"I know, I know," I shook my head and groaned, "this is bad."
"Do they know anything else about you?"
"Like where I live?" I fucking hope not. I shook my head, "normally I wouldn't say this, but read it."
She started reading from the top, "'Pop icon Michael Jackson was spotted out and about, first at Mélisse Restaurant and later at the Playhouse Geffen Theatre for a romantic night out yesterday evening in central Los Angeles. What was extraordinary, even for someone of...'" she paused before continuing, "'his eccentricities...'"
"Keep going,"
"'...was that he was not seen with his usual chimpanzee companion, but with a member of the same species—and female.' Sheri, what on earth?!" She glared at the print. "'Very little is known about this woman-in-red, but she is rumored to be the Thriller singer's first partner since he was involved with previous lovers Brooke Shields and Diana Ross earlier this decade'. Sheri, is all this true?"
"Most of it is, I guess. He's never mentioned Brooke Shields or Diana Ross to me before. Come to think of it, we've never talked about his past relationships, so I don't know if I am the first since them. What you did read correctly was that we went out last night," I explained.
Earlier on, when I got the paper from the boy doing the rounds, I was so enraged that I was two seconds away from calling up the editor who printed those harsh lies. But then that would've given away my total identity.
Faith gasped for the hundredth time, "you're front page, this is crazy!"
"Yeah. I'm kinda scared to leave my house," I chuckled.
"Your face isn't that clear in the picture," she assured, even though she was wrong.
I shrugged. "You never know, though. What if I step out onto the street and people recognize me as the somebody's special someone?"
"I still can't believe it. I wish you would've told me! I know how to keep a secret. But I completely understand why you kept this under wraps."
I disagreed, "no; I should've trusted you with this. Maybe not right away when I first met him, or when things started to get serious between us, but I should've at least told you about last night. That's for sure."
"Don't blame yourself, Sher-Bear. It's not like you or I knew Carl was going to do what he did yesterday," she reasoned.
"I know,"
"It's strange. I always thought that Carl's pretty interesting, but you seriously decided to go out with one of Hollywood's most elite?" she gushed.
I looked down at my hands and smiled to myself. "I really did."
Faith scooted closer to me with intrigue in her eyes, divulging deeper into the gossip as if sitting nearer would extract more information outta me. "But you don't date anyone."
I knew what she was thinking—that I only got with him because of money or something that.
"You're right. But he ain't just anyone."
Faith waited for me to continue.
I sighed and thought about how I could fit all the wonderful and amazing things about Michael into one sentence. It was impossible. There weren't enough words in the dictionary to describe him.
"He's one of the best people I've ever met in my life. And he's not at all what the media make him out to be. He's so sweet and sensitive. He's got a huge heart. His smile lights up the room and he's got these eyes and this crazy, loud laugh..." I grinned like an idiot. "He's the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I go to sleep," I sighed and looked down at my daughter. "And he loves this little girl." And maybe that's why I should give it another chance.
"Sheri, what happened?" Faith asked gently.
I fell back against the couch. "Nothing happened. It's like you said, he's a celebrity. It'd never work."
Faith was silent. I didn't expect her to be able to advise me on something as batshit insane as a small-town mom getting caught up in a web of feelings with a global mega-star, not to mention one that's constantly hounded by the press.
"How long have you been with him?" she asked.
I paused in thought. "Well, we ain't official in that sense but I've known him as a person for about three months now. He's always visiting, you know," I chuckled, "sometimes he comes just to see the little one."
"Wow," she said with delicate amazement. She analyzed me. "Are you in love with him?"
Of course she'd say that. My heart skipped a beat at the words—at the mere idea of it.
"I'm not a fool, Faith,"
"I've never heard you talk so lovingly about someone, though."
I brushed it off before Faith could pick my brain any further, "I don't know. It was probably just a temporary thing we had. Ain't no way I'll be able to be with him and keep my sanity at the same time. And it's not even his fault. It's not fair."
Faith sighed, "sometimes I just wish men and being with men wasn't so complicated."
"Ain't that the truth?" We exchanged glances in agreement. "Well, love is a complicated thing. That's why I don't let myself get anywhere near it," I said, "and don't worry about this whole mess with Baldy; he'll come to his senses soon enough."
She groaned, "will he?"
"Oh yeah. But not before he gets a good kick in the ass from me," I said, putting my arm around my best friend.
Faith laughed lightly, "let's hope that ass-kicking won't be necessary."
"It won't be. Everything that he needs is right in front of him. He's just too blind to see it," I said sincerely, gaining a smile from Faith.
"Good luck with Michael," she said.
"Thanks, I'll need it."