Deb Hanson
10-13-2010, 08:01 AM
T W O
Michael watched the sunrise become morning through the small square panes of his large bay window at Neverland Valley Ranch. The soft piano of Debussy’s first “Arabesque” in E major floated in the background as he stood and recalled what had happened like it was yesterday instead of five years ago.
He had never put that night behind him. How could he? How could he forget the hot tears he had shed? Or about her?
She had been everything to him. Diana. Miss Ross, as he had sometimes called her when she got a little too full of herself. His very own moon goddess, she the twin to his Apollo they had each sometimes joked.
She was style. She was refinement. She was substance and grace. Tough as nails, yet soft as a kitten and funnier than hell. An angel sent down from heaven just for him. She had been his trusted musical mentor, his show business guide from the time he was a boy. Diana had been everything good in his life.
A stunning off-the-shoulder Bob Mackie, shimmering gold, trimmed in black and open to her thigh, had been her fashion choice for the evening. Created for her tall frame, its beaded belt had cinched her tiny waist and accentuated her sleek line. It wasn’t the gown that had taken his breath away but the way she pulled it off that blew his mind. Tiffany teardrop earrings and a diamond bracelet had sparkled against her smooth, ebony skin. Shiny cherry gloss coated her full lips, the lips of a songbird who called out the sweetest notes he had ever heard.
Her house had been empty that summer night, he and Diana entering alone, the children spending time with her ex-husband out of the country during the remodel of her palatial Beverly Hills mansion.
Arm in arm they had walked through the home’s portico and took the steps to the front door, each of them laughing hard over her blundered delivery of a speech made earlier in his honor.
“The guy operating the teleprompter needs to be fired,” she had said, removing a key from her Givenchy clutch and turning it in the lock.
“Or it could be the speechmaker needs to get glasses,” he had teased stepping into the foyer.
She slid the sling-backs from her feet and kicked them with the tip of her pink nail to the corner. They dashed to her new kitchen where a raid on the refrigerator had come up with a few bits of leftover Ma Maison takeout they shared from a plastic container. He pulled himself up onto the marble countertop, his legs dangling while he twisted and pried the cork off a half bottle of champagne.
“I’m sorry, Michael,” she apologized, her face lit by the open door of a new SubZero as she leaned in. “That’s really all there is. They took the old frig today and I hear food won’t be delivered until morning.”
“You know me, Diana,” he said between bites, spearing a nibble of chicken with his fork. “I don’t need much. But I can see why Wolf has a following…this is good.” He twisted at the torso and flipped open a newly-hung cabinet door, pulling a pair of fluted glasses down onto the counter.
“You’re going to drink the bubbly? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink,” Diana said, looking surprised. “No, come to think of it, never.”
“It’s either this or warm water,” he said through a spirited laugh. “This is what happens when a host can’t be relied on to provide a simple Perrier.”
“Knucklehead.” She reached up and mussed his hair. “I see your soaring fame hasn’t changed your wisecracking ways.”
He turned on his best W.C. Fields. “You are so right, my little chickadee.” Becoming thoughtful, he added, “And why not a little champagne? I just snagged a lifetime achievement award at twenty-five, right?” He smiled as he poured them each a half glass. “Seems people think the best years of my life are already behind me.”
Diana clinked his glass with hers and they each took a sip. “Cheers, and congratulations to you, my young protégé,” she said with a wink. “It’s really good to see you again. I’ve missed talking to you in person.”
“I’ve missed you too.” he said. If only she knew how much. He wanted to tell her of his longing for her between visits. He wanted to tell her the sound of her voice on the other end of the line from whatever penthouse suite happened to be called home that night is the only thing that kept him going. He wanted to tell her that he sometimes called her private number when he knew she wasn’t home, just to keep himself filled until they next spoke. …You’ve reached Diana…tell me what’s on your mind…. Instead he told her, “I’ll be in town for two weeks. I’m sure there will be enough time to see you again before I leave.”
“You know I’ll look forward to it,” she replied. “Now, come see the rooms.”
Together they had bounded up her curved staircase and into the redecorated wing he had heard her rave about for weeks. She showed him each new room, peeking first into the guest baths and then into the children’s spaces designed by Halston as a personal favor. The latest release of Pac-Man in a new entertainment room had captured his eye and kept him busy while she ran down to freshen their drinks.
Her gentle tug at the sleeve of his red crystalline jacket made him take notice of the champagne refill she set on the console beside him. Two minutes of listening to dot-gobbling robots was all she tolerated before issuing an admonishment.
“How can you spend so much time on that stuff?” She sighed. “Come on, Michael. I want you to see my new room, and there’s something I want to tell you.”
The game was shut down once Pac had made one more narrow but triumphant escape from being obliterated into digital dust. He grabbed his glass and followed her down the hallway.
She turned on a single lamp that in turn lit two more, her new bedroom revealed in soft light as he stood in the doorway. He watched as she spun a circle on the white carpet, opening her arms as if presenting him a gift. The gift he cared about most was seeing the smile on her face and knowing she was happy.
Diana reached for his hand and pulled him in. She called up the powerful voice that had helped put Motown on the map and then transformed her into a bonafide disco diva. In short bursts she belted the beginning verses of a song they had practiced for hours and then sung together in a musical movie years before. He would never forget how she had gone to the wall to get him the starring role that made his teenage star power shine even brighter.
She raised her gown above the ankles and her feet recreated the steps they had each performed on the movie set. He flung his jacket onto her bed, taking her cue, then rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt.
They sang and danced in unison facing her floor-to-ceiling mirror, needing no accompaniment, the same dynamic duo that had made the audience rise to its feet in applause earlier that evening. One song flowed into another, a medley of his and hers platinum hits that went back more than a decade.
Finally exhausted, they collapsed side by side onto her satin comforter when they could take no more, gasping for air, holding hands and looking up at the canopy draped over her king poster bed.
“Michael, I’m afraid I’m out of shape,” she said, wiping the sweat from her brow, her lungs reaching. “Whew, I must be getting old.”
“You could never be old to me, Diana,” he said between breaths, squeezing her hand tighter.
He sat up and looked around the room decorated all in white and was sure he had just stepped onto cloud nine. He found himself impressed by the transformation. Roy Halston had apparently been inspired to take the 24-carat spoon out of his nose long enough to come to the rescue of an old friend. Delicate art nouveau details gave the room an air of refreshing femininity. Graceful silver flourishes accented the plush white seating, Carrera marble fireplace, and the bed on which they rested swathed in flowing silk faille.
“Do you like it, Michael?” she asked. He turned and looked at her lying on the bed, his eyes fixed on hers.
“Being here is a slice of heaven,” he replied, unable to think of a better way to describe sitting beside her in her special room.
She led him to sit on a pillowy loveseat and began to remove her jewelry. Her wild cotton candy hair brushed his face as she removed one earring, then the other, and dropped the pair onto the coffee table in front of them. He inhaled the Bal a Versailles he counted on to linger on his shirts long after their visits were over and they had hugged goodbye, holding the fragrance in his lungs until she turned to him.
“Everything’s changing for you now, Michael,” she said. “If you thought your life was complicated before, get ready because this is just the beginning. You saw the way the crowd reacted to you tonight. It was different this time.” She took his hand and rubbed his palm with her thumb. “And I’m so proud of everything you’ve done. Have I told you that lately?”
“Yes, Diana,” he said, gazing at her face. He saw love in its purest form exude from the pair of brown eyes looking back at his, love he knew he could trust.
“Michael, there’s so much more you can do now to brand yourself and take advantage of…”
I love you, Diana. Every song I’ve ever sung is for you…don’t you know that? I want you to know it and feel it. I want you to feel the love flow from me to you.
“…could bring in a lot more from a big corporate endorse…”
My life would be zero without you in it, an unfulfilling wasteland of fear, doubt and mediocrity…
“…time in your schedule to meet with that friend of Branca who gave me his card…”
There’s no shyness when I’m with you, nightingale …nothing I can’t say and nothing I can’t do because of the love you’ve shown me every step of the way…
“…him as your entertainment lawyer, you won’t have any problems.” She gave his arm a light rub. “Michael, are you listening to me?”
She swept something from his cheek with the tips of her fingers. Her long, slender fingers with pretty pink nails. Her warm, tender fingers touching his face. Her sultry brown eyes looking into his. Her perfect parted lips, waiting.
And that’s when it happened.
He placed his hands on her shoulders and pressed his lips to hers. A light and gentle kiss. Gentle and quick. But not so quick as to be taken as a kiss between friends. And not so gentle as to keep him from experiencing an overwhelming sense of passion that arose from deep inside and sent a lightening bolt zap to his loins. He would remember the kiss and the way it had made him feel forever. And there was no doubt in his mind that she felt it too. Looking past the surprise on her face, he saw desire and yearning in her eyes when he pulled back from the kiss.
He let his hands fall to her back, pulling her in close for another taste of sweetness but was taken aback when he felt her hands push against his chest. She sprang from the loveseat and stood, licking her lips and tossing her hair over her shoulder.
“Michael, we’ve been through this before,” she protested, looking flustered. “I told you then and I’m telling you now that you need a young woman, someone your own age. You told me you understood. This can absolutely not happen. It wouldn’t be right, and society would not understand.”
The exhilaration experienced a moment earlier became a sinking feeling that enveloped his whole body. His shoulders slumped and he felt his heart being squeezed in a vice.
“It’s none of society’s business,” he said, looking at the uneasiness in her eyes. “Society doesn’t have to know. This is between you and me.”
“This is the champagne talking,” she shot back. “You’re not used to drinking.”
“It’s not the champagne, Diana,” he replied. “This is something I’ve wanted since forever. I’ve suppressed my feelings and tried to tell myself I’m happy.”
“But Michael, I’m like your mother,” she said and put her hand to her forehead. She began to pace. He turned and followed her steps with his eyes.
“Diana, please…I have a wonderful mother and, believe me, you are not her.”
She stopped and looked at him. “You’ve been sitting around pining away for me this whole time?”
He chuckled. “I’m not a water faucet. I can’t turn my feelings off just because you tell me to.”
“I don’t believe I’m hearing this,” she said. Shaking her head, she walked behind the loveseat. “Look, Michael, you’re young and attractive. You’re on top of the world. You can have any one of a million girls, and they’re all out there waiting for you to go get them.”
He watched as she walked from the loveseat to the bed and back again, hands on her hips.
“I don’t want some girl,” he said, looking up at her. “I want a beautiful woman. I want you. You’re the one I choose, Diana. You’re the only one I want to share myself with.”
“It’s not right, Michael.”
His voice rose. “I don’t want someone who throws themselves at me and wants to manipulate me. They all want to have a little fun with Michael Jackson, star. Not love me. They want to grab at my life to take a piece of it and make a name for themselves. You’re right, I could have someone different every night, but it would be so empty. I don’t care about any of them.”
“But you haven’t given anyone a chance, have you?”
He turned away from her and clasped his hands together, resting his elbows on his thighs and staring down at the coffee table. “I have. I’ve tried. Nobody even comes close to you, Diana.”
“You know that’s not true, Michael.” She placed her hands on the back edge of the loveseat. “Michael, look at me,” she said. He turned and she leaned in close to his face. “It wouldn’t be right,” she said in a calm voice. “Don’t you see that?”
Not moving a muscle, he looked into her eyes and said, “I see that we’re the only ones to say what’s right.”
She stood upright and crossed her arms. “Well, I don’t know what to say. I don’t want you that way,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. She walked away and sat on the edge of the bed, placing her hands in her lap.
He recognized the tone. It was disingenuous.
“You’ve told me yourself I’m sexy, Diana.”
“I was just teasing,” she said with a guffaw.
“Were you? Are you sure?”
“My God, Michael, I said that on a television show.”
“I heard what you told your sister. That was not on TV.”
She remained silent for a moment and looked down at her lap.
“You must have misunderstood,” she said, rubbing one hand with the other.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “I know what I heard.”
She looked up. “It’s a fact you’ve become a handsome man,” she said. “I’d be lying if I said otherwise. But that kind of love has no place in our relationship.”
“That kind of love?” he asked. “You say it as if it’s something to be ashamed of.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Not to me. It’s something to be cherished and shared. And I’ve felt it in your hugs, Diana. You know it’s true.”
“What?”
The look on her face was one of disbelief. But he was sure something in the way she embraced him had changed, and he knew he wasn’t mistaken about feeling her hands wander to places they had never wandered before.
“Don’t deny it,” he said.
“Your mind is making things up, Michael,” she replied, her eyes becoming glassy as if she were about to cry.
“Why are we here?” he asked.
“Here where?”
“In your bedroom,” he replied. “The things you told me could have been said in the kitchen.”
“I wanted you to see my new room.”
“I love your new room, Diana, but we always end up here. Why?”
“It’s late and you’re not thinking clearly,” she said and rose from the bed.
“I’ve never been more clear about anything, and I’m not imagining things either. I’ve waited and waited for you to finally see me as a man instead of a boy. I’m tired of waiting. I want you to know me for who I’ve become. I’m a man, Diana, and I’m asking you to be with me now.”
“It’s not right and it would ruin our friendship,” she insisted. “The answer is no.”
The answer is no.
The painful words ricocheted in his brain, caught in his throat, and landed on his heart.
The answer is no.
His tear ducts burst and stung his eyes…the answer is no… He fought to find his breath and felt as if a suffocating blanket had covered his face, a thousand-pound weight pressing down on his chest as the room began to spin, the stab to his heart the sharpest he had experienced. Can’t catch my breath…can’t breathe…
“I’ll be back,” he managed to utter as his eyes welled.
His foot caught the table leg in a rush to escape her excruciating rejection, his flute and its effervescing contents knocked to the carpet…the answer is no!… He raced across the room to her master bath and shut the door, holding the knob and turning the lock, gasping for breath.
“Please talk to me, Michael…,” he heard her cry above the noise in his head. He bolted to her vanity, taking refuge in a stack of towels lying on top. Landing on the vanity bench before the mirror, he sunk his face in deep, wrapping the cloth tight and pressing it to his ears to muffle his sobs and absorb the tears that now flowed free.
“Just a minute,” he mouthed…the answer is no!...no sound issuing forth because…this can’t be happening… this can’t be happening…the answer is no!…my worst nightmare…tears won’t stop coming…love you… Diana…my heart…is shriveling…not supposed to happen this way…failure…the answer is no!…
“Michael, come back!”
“Oh, Diana,” he cried into the towels…not enough tears to cry…failed so miserably…please…balled fists hitting the vanity top, scattering lipsticks because…you can’t see me…why can’t you see me…can’t breathe… don’t want to breathe…hurts so bad…the answer is no!…will never stop hurting…why don’t you want me…
“Michael….”
…her sweet voice…calling to me…what will I say…what should I do…deep breaths…get yourself together…be a man…
“Diana,” he sobbed…you’ve always been there…the cloth drenched with tears because…you taught me everything…my huntress…know my every secret…every secret…you took time…for me…every promise kept, Diana…revealed a world…taught me…stop crying… how to be…not just a performer…an artist… a creator… be a man…not the boy she sees…
He released the towels from his face and sat in a state of despair. A deep sigh came forth at the sight of the red, puffy eyes staring back at him in the mirror. He blew hard into a wad of tissues.
The kiss hadn’t been enough to win her over. He had gambled and lost, a demoralizing defeat. How could she not see it was right for them to share their love in a new way? To allow it to blossom into something more? Into something even more beautiful? And now how would he go on? How could he face her?
“Michael, please!”
He heard the shout and looked over his shoulder toward the door, then turned back to the mirror. More than anything he wanted to lick his wounds with tears but knew he would have to face her sometime.
He mustered his voice. “I’m coming, Diana,” it croaked as he rose and walked to the door. With the back of his hand he wiped his eyes one last time and then grasped the doorknob. What would he say? A few moments later he had made his decision. He would make it easy on them both and acknowledge her misgivings, grab his jacket and say a quick goodnight.
One deep inhale of breath and he swung the door open.
What greeted him on the other side he was not prepared to see. He stood in the doorway stunned, his brain grappling to register the scene before him. It was Diana. And she was smiling at him from across the room. It was lovely Diana, stretched out on her side, lying on her bed and looking like the enchantress she was. It was sophisticated Diana, wrapped in nothing but a white satin sheet, her pink toenails peeking out the bottom. She was looking at him with smoldering brown eyes.
“Just this once, Michael,” she said. “No one can ever know, and I mean ever.”
He quickly internalized the meaning of the words he had waiting so long to hear. Still, he was hard pressed to believe she was saying them. But the angels in heaven had seen fit to make Diana his tonight, and he would not question the wisdom of their decision. His face lit as he stood in the doorway. In an instant the weight lifted from his heart, replaced by a surge of joy that renewed his being. A new tear welled. A tear on a smiling face. One of relief and hope. One that turned to sudden elation and anticipation.
“I’m afraid you’ll change your mind, so I won’t ask why,” he said.
She laughed. “You’re stubborn. I’m stubborn,” she said. “We’re both stubborn. We usually get what we want, don’t we? I know this won’t go away for either of us until it’s done. I’m the one who always told you to go get what you want and never settle, remember? Maybe what we both want is right here. This old gal still has a few tricks up her sleeve,” she said, a sly smile on her face.
“We don’t need tricks, Diana,” he said, “and you are far from old.”
“Maybe I haven’t wanted to admit to certain feelings,” she said. “I’ve never wanted to do anything to hurt you or take advantage of you. More than anything, I love you.”
“I know you’d never want to hurt me,” he said, his curled fingers holding the doorframe. “And I’m thinking so clearly. You don’t know how clearly I’m thinking. I made up my mind a long time ago about what I want. It’s you.”
The edge of the satin sheet she’d been holding in place with her hand slipped free, exposing her long, slim legs up to her thighs. He came to the realization as he watched that what he had fantasized for so long was about to happen. She was there for the taking, ready and willing to be with him.
“Just so we understand each other,” she said, “I don’t see you as a boy. I haven’t for a long time. I see you as an equal, someone who worked as hard as I did to get to the top. Michael, my heart and my eyes see what you’ve become. But it can only happen this once. I have a life here with my girls, and they wouldn’t understand.”
He had stood listening to her, knowing once they loved she would change her mind.
“Yes, Diana,” he responded.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” she asked, a smile on her face as she inched the top of the sheet down her collarbone with her fingers.
Rushing to the bed, he had placed a tiny kiss on her forehead, then moved his lips to her ear. “I guarantee you won’t regret it, Miss Ross….”
Michael looked out on his flower garden through the glass panes of his window. He watched a hovering bumblebee navigate the morning dew and land on the petal of an open pink rose. Another day was beginning at Neverland Valley Ranch. Another day without his glorious Diana.
A small noise disrupted his thoughts. He turned to establish the cause.
Michael watched the sunrise become morning through the small square panes of his large bay window at Neverland Valley Ranch. The soft piano of Debussy’s first “Arabesque” in E major floated in the background as he stood and recalled what had happened like it was yesterday instead of five years ago.
He had never put that night behind him. How could he? How could he forget the hot tears he had shed? Or about her?
She had been everything to him. Diana. Miss Ross, as he had sometimes called her when she got a little too full of herself. His very own moon goddess, she the twin to his Apollo they had each sometimes joked.
She was style. She was refinement. She was substance and grace. Tough as nails, yet soft as a kitten and funnier than hell. An angel sent down from heaven just for him. She had been his trusted musical mentor, his show business guide from the time he was a boy. Diana had been everything good in his life.
A stunning off-the-shoulder Bob Mackie, shimmering gold, trimmed in black and open to her thigh, had been her fashion choice for the evening. Created for her tall frame, its beaded belt had cinched her tiny waist and accentuated her sleek line. It wasn’t the gown that had taken his breath away but the way she pulled it off that blew his mind. Tiffany teardrop earrings and a diamond bracelet had sparkled against her smooth, ebony skin. Shiny cherry gloss coated her full lips, the lips of a songbird who called out the sweetest notes he had ever heard.
Her house had been empty that summer night, he and Diana entering alone, the children spending time with her ex-husband out of the country during the remodel of her palatial Beverly Hills mansion.
Arm in arm they had walked through the home’s portico and took the steps to the front door, each of them laughing hard over her blundered delivery of a speech made earlier in his honor.
“The guy operating the teleprompter needs to be fired,” she had said, removing a key from her Givenchy clutch and turning it in the lock.
“Or it could be the speechmaker needs to get glasses,” he had teased stepping into the foyer.
She slid the sling-backs from her feet and kicked them with the tip of her pink nail to the corner. They dashed to her new kitchen where a raid on the refrigerator had come up with a few bits of leftover Ma Maison takeout they shared from a plastic container. He pulled himself up onto the marble countertop, his legs dangling while he twisted and pried the cork off a half bottle of champagne.
“I’m sorry, Michael,” she apologized, her face lit by the open door of a new SubZero as she leaned in. “That’s really all there is. They took the old frig today and I hear food won’t be delivered until morning.”
“You know me, Diana,” he said between bites, spearing a nibble of chicken with his fork. “I don’t need much. But I can see why Wolf has a following…this is good.” He twisted at the torso and flipped open a newly-hung cabinet door, pulling a pair of fluted glasses down onto the counter.
“You’re going to drink the bubbly? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink,” Diana said, looking surprised. “No, come to think of it, never.”
“It’s either this or warm water,” he said through a spirited laugh. “This is what happens when a host can’t be relied on to provide a simple Perrier.”
“Knucklehead.” She reached up and mussed his hair. “I see your soaring fame hasn’t changed your wisecracking ways.”
He turned on his best W.C. Fields. “You are so right, my little chickadee.” Becoming thoughtful, he added, “And why not a little champagne? I just snagged a lifetime achievement award at twenty-five, right?” He smiled as he poured them each a half glass. “Seems people think the best years of my life are already behind me.”
Diana clinked his glass with hers and they each took a sip. “Cheers, and congratulations to you, my young protégé,” she said with a wink. “It’s really good to see you again. I’ve missed talking to you in person.”
“I’ve missed you too.” he said. If only she knew how much. He wanted to tell her of his longing for her between visits. He wanted to tell her the sound of her voice on the other end of the line from whatever penthouse suite happened to be called home that night is the only thing that kept him going. He wanted to tell her that he sometimes called her private number when he knew she wasn’t home, just to keep himself filled until they next spoke. …You’ve reached Diana…tell me what’s on your mind…. Instead he told her, “I’ll be in town for two weeks. I’m sure there will be enough time to see you again before I leave.”
“You know I’ll look forward to it,” she replied. “Now, come see the rooms.”
Together they had bounded up her curved staircase and into the redecorated wing he had heard her rave about for weeks. She showed him each new room, peeking first into the guest baths and then into the children’s spaces designed by Halston as a personal favor. The latest release of Pac-Man in a new entertainment room had captured his eye and kept him busy while she ran down to freshen their drinks.
Her gentle tug at the sleeve of his red crystalline jacket made him take notice of the champagne refill she set on the console beside him. Two minutes of listening to dot-gobbling robots was all she tolerated before issuing an admonishment.
“How can you spend so much time on that stuff?” She sighed. “Come on, Michael. I want you to see my new room, and there’s something I want to tell you.”
The game was shut down once Pac had made one more narrow but triumphant escape from being obliterated into digital dust. He grabbed his glass and followed her down the hallway.
She turned on a single lamp that in turn lit two more, her new bedroom revealed in soft light as he stood in the doorway. He watched as she spun a circle on the white carpet, opening her arms as if presenting him a gift. The gift he cared about most was seeing the smile on her face and knowing she was happy.
Diana reached for his hand and pulled him in. She called up the powerful voice that had helped put Motown on the map and then transformed her into a bonafide disco diva. In short bursts she belted the beginning verses of a song they had practiced for hours and then sung together in a musical movie years before. He would never forget how she had gone to the wall to get him the starring role that made his teenage star power shine even brighter.
She raised her gown above the ankles and her feet recreated the steps they had each performed on the movie set. He flung his jacket onto her bed, taking her cue, then rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt.
They sang and danced in unison facing her floor-to-ceiling mirror, needing no accompaniment, the same dynamic duo that had made the audience rise to its feet in applause earlier that evening. One song flowed into another, a medley of his and hers platinum hits that went back more than a decade.
Finally exhausted, they collapsed side by side onto her satin comforter when they could take no more, gasping for air, holding hands and looking up at the canopy draped over her king poster bed.
“Michael, I’m afraid I’m out of shape,” she said, wiping the sweat from her brow, her lungs reaching. “Whew, I must be getting old.”
“You could never be old to me, Diana,” he said between breaths, squeezing her hand tighter.
He sat up and looked around the room decorated all in white and was sure he had just stepped onto cloud nine. He found himself impressed by the transformation. Roy Halston had apparently been inspired to take the 24-carat spoon out of his nose long enough to come to the rescue of an old friend. Delicate art nouveau details gave the room an air of refreshing femininity. Graceful silver flourishes accented the plush white seating, Carrera marble fireplace, and the bed on which they rested swathed in flowing silk faille.
“Do you like it, Michael?” she asked. He turned and looked at her lying on the bed, his eyes fixed on hers.
“Being here is a slice of heaven,” he replied, unable to think of a better way to describe sitting beside her in her special room.
She led him to sit on a pillowy loveseat and began to remove her jewelry. Her wild cotton candy hair brushed his face as she removed one earring, then the other, and dropped the pair onto the coffee table in front of them. He inhaled the Bal a Versailles he counted on to linger on his shirts long after their visits were over and they had hugged goodbye, holding the fragrance in his lungs until she turned to him.
“Everything’s changing for you now, Michael,” she said. “If you thought your life was complicated before, get ready because this is just the beginning. You saw the way the crowd reacted to you tonight. It was different this time.” She took his hand and rubbed his palm with her thumb. “And I’m so proud of everything you’ve done. Have I told you that lately?”
“Yes, Diana,” he said, gazing at her face. He saw love in its purest form exude from the pair of brown eyes looking back at his, love he knew he could trust.
“Michael, there’s so much more you can do now to brand yourself and take advantage of…”
I love you, Diana. Every song I’ve ever sung is for you…don’t you know that? I want you to know it and feel it. I want you to feel the love flow from me to you.
“…could bring in a lot more from a big corporate endorse…”
My life would be zero without you in it, an unfulfilling wasteland of fear, doubt and mediocrity…
“…time in your schedule to meet with that friend of Branca who gave me his card…”
There’s no shyness when I’m with you, nightingale …nothing I can’t say and nothing I can’t do because of the love you’ve shown me every step of the way…
“…him as your entertainment lawyer, you won’t have any problems.” She gave his arm a light rub. “Michael, are you listening to me?”
She swept something from his cheek with the tips of her fingers. Her long, slender fingers with pretty pink nails. Her warm, tender fingers touching his face. Her sultry brown eyes looking into his. Her perfect parted lips, waiting.
And that’s when it happened.
He placed his hands on her shoulders and pressed his lips to hers. A light and gentle kiss. Gentle and quick. But not so quick as to be taken as a kiss between friends. And not so gentle as to keep him from experiencing an overwhelming sense of passion that arose from deep inside and sent a lightening bolt zap to his loins. He would remember the kiss and the way it had made him feel forever. And there was no doubt in his mind that she felt it too. Looking past the surprise on her face, he saw desire and yearning in her eyes when he pulled back from the kiss.
He let his hands fall to her back, pulling her in close for another taste of sweetness but was taken aback when he felt her hands push against his chest. She sprang from the loveseat and stood, licking her lips and tossing her hair over her shoulder.
“Michael, we’ve been through this before,” she protested, looking flustered. “I told you then and I’m telling you now that you need a young woman, someone your own age. You told me you understood. This can absolutely not happen. It wouldn’t be right, and society would not understand.”
The exhilaration experienced a moment earlier became a sinking feeling that enveloped his whole body. His shoulders slumped and he felt his heart being squeezed in a vice.
“It’s none of society’s business,” he said, looking at the uneasiness in her eyes. “Society doesn’t have to know. This is between you and me.”
“This is the champagne talking,” she shot back. “You’re not used to drinking.”
“It’s not the champagne, Diana,” he replied. “This is something I’ve wanted since forever. I’ve suppressed my feelings and tried to tell myself I’m happy.”
“But Michael, I’m like your mother,” she said and put her hand to her forehead. She began to pace. He turned and followed her steps with his eyes.
“Diana, please…I have a wonderful mother and, believe me, you are not her.”
She stopped and looked at him. “You’ve been sitting around pining away for me this whole time?”
He chuckled. “I’m not a water faucet. I can’t turn my feelings off just because you tell me to.”
“I don’t believe I’m hearing this,” she said. Shaking her head, she walked behind the loveseat. “Look, Michael, you’re young and attractive. You’re on top of the world. You can have any one of a million girls, and they’re all out there waiting for you to go get them.”
He watched as she walked from the loveseat to the bed and back again, hands on her hips.
“I don’t want some girl,” he said, looking up at her. “I want a beautiful woman. I want you. You’re the one I choose, Diana. You’re the only one I want to share myself with.”
“It’s not right, Michael.”
His voice rose. “I don’t want someone who throws themselves at me and wants to manipulate me. They all want to have a little fun with Michael Jackson, star. Not love me. They want to grab at my life to take a piece of it and make a name for themselves. You’re right, I could have someone different every night, but it would be so empty. I don’t care about any of them.”
“But you haven’t given anyone a chance, have you?”
He turned away from her and clasped his hands together, resting his elbows on his thighs and staring down at the coffee table. “I have. I’ve tried. Nobody even comes close to you, Diana.”
“You know that’s not true, Michael.” She placed her hands on the back edge of the loveseat. “Michael, look at me,” she said. He turned and she leaned in close to his face. “It wouldn’t be right,” she said in a calm voice. “Don’t you see that?”
Not moving a muscle, he looked into her eyes and said, “I see that we’re the only ones to say what’s right.”
She stood upright and crossed her arms. “Well, I don’t know what to say. I don’t want you that way,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. She walked away and sat on the edge of the bed, placing her hands in her lap.
He recognized the tone. It was disingenuous.
“You’ve told me yourself I’m sexy, Diana.”
“I was just teasing,” she said with a guffaw.
“Were you? Are you sure?”
“My God, Michael, I said that on a television show.”
“I heard what you told your sister. That was not on TV.”
She remained silent for a moment and looked down at her lap.
“You must have misunderstood,” she said, rubbing one hand with the other.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “I know what I heard.”
She looked up. “It’s a fact you’ve become a handsome man,” she said. “I’d be lying if I said otherwise. But that kind of love has no place in our relationship.”
“That kind of love?” he asked. “You say it as if it’s something to be ashamed of.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Not to me. It’s something to be cherished and shared. And I’ve felt it in your hugs, Diana. You know it’s true.”
“What?”
The look on her face was one of disbelief. But he was sure something in the way she embraced him had changed, and he knew he wasn’t mistaken about feeling her hands wander to places they had never wandered before.
“Don’t deny it,” he said.
“Your mind is making things up, Michael,” she replied, her eyes becoming glassy as if she were about to cry.
“Why are we here?” he asked.
“Here where?”
“In your bedroom,” he replied. “The things you told me could have been said in the kitchen.”
“I wanted you to see my new room.”
“I love your new room, Diana, but we always end up here. Why?”
“It’s late and you’re not thinking clearly,” she said and rose from the bed.
“I’ve never been more clear about anything, and I’m not imagining things either. I’ve waited and waited for you to finally see me as a man instead of a boy. I’m tired of waiting. I want you to know me for who I’ve become. I’m a man, Diana, and I’m asking you to be with me now.”
“It’s not right and it would ruin our friendship,” she insisted. “The answer is no.”
The answer is no.
The painful words ricocheted in his brain, caught in his throat, and landed on his heart.
The answer is no.
His tear ducts burst and stung his eyes…the answer is no… He fought to find his breath and felt as if a suffocating blanket had covered his face, a thousand-pound weight pressing down on his chest as the room began to spin, the stab to his heart the sharpest he had experienced. Can’t catch my breath…can’t breathe…
“I’ll be back,” he managed to utter as his eyes welled.
His foot caught the table leg in a rush to escape her excruciating rejection, his flute and its effervescing contents knocked to the carpet…the answer is no!… He raced across the room to her master bath and shut the door, holding the knob and turning the lock, gasping for breath.
“Please talk to me, Michael…,” he heard her cry above the noise in his head. He bolted to her vanity, taking refuge in a stack of towels lying on top. Landing on the vanity bench before the mirror, he sunk his face in deep, wrapping the cloth tight and pressing it to his ears to muffle his sobs and absorb the tears that now flowed free.
“Just a minute,” he mouthed…the answer is no!...no sound issuing forth because…this can’t be happening… this can’t be happening…the answer is no!…my worst nightmare…tears won’t stop coming…love you… Diana…my heart…is shriveling…not supposed to happen this way…failure…the answer is no!…
“Michael, come back!”
“Oh, Diana,” he cried into the towels…not enough tears to cry…failed so miserably…please…balled fists hitting the vanity top, scattering lipsticks because…you can’t see me…why can’t you see me…can’t breathe… don’t want to breathe…hurts so bad…the answer is no!…will never stop hurting…why don’t you want me…
“Michael….”
…her sweet voice…calling to me…what will I say…what should I do…deep breaths…get yourself together…be a man…
“Diana,” he sobbed…you’ve always been there…the cloth drenched with tears because…you taught me everything…my huntress…know my every secret…every secret…you took time…for me…every promise kept, Diana…revealed a world…taught me…stop crying… how to be…not just a performer…an artist… a creator… be a man…not the boy she sees…
He released the towels from his face and sat in a state of despair. A deep sigh came forth at the sight of the red, puffy eyes staring back at him in the mirror. He blew hard into a wad of tissues.
The kiss hadn’t been enough to win her over. He had gambled and lost, a demoralizing defeat. How could she not see it was right for them to share their love in a new way? To allow it to blossom into something more? Into something even more beautiful? And now how would he go on? How could he face her?
“Michael, please!”
He heard the shout and looked over his shoulder toward the door, then turned back to the mirror. More than anything he wanted to lick his wounds with tears but knew he would have to face her sometime.
He mustered his voice. “I’m coming, Diana,” it croaked as he rose and walked to the door. With the back of his hand he wiped his eyes one last time and then grasped the doorknob. What would he say? A few moments later he had made his decision. He would make it easy on them both and acknowledge her misgivings, grab his jacket and say a quick goodnight.
One deep inhale of breath and he swung the door open.
What greeted him on the other side he was not prepared to see. He stood in the doorway stunned, his brain grappling to register the scene before him. It was Diana. And she was smiling at him from across the room. It was lovely Diana, stretched out on her side, lying on her bed and looking like the enchantress she was. It was sophisticated Diana, wrapped in nothing but a white satin sheet, her pink toenails peeking out the bottom. She was looking at him with smoldering brown eyes.
“Just this once, Michael,” she said. “No one can ever know, and I mean ever.”
He quickly internalized the meaning of the words he had waiting so long to hear. Still, he was hard pressed to believe she was saying them. But the angels in heaven had seen fit to make Diana his tonight, and he would not question the wisdom of their decision. His face lit as he stood in the doorway. In an instant the weight lifted from his heart, replaced by a surge of joy that renewed his being. A new tear welled. A tear on a smiling face. One of relief and hope. One that turned to sudden elation and anticipation.
“I’m afraid you’ll change your mind, so I won’t ask why,” he said.
She laughed. “You’re stubborn. I’m stubborn,” she said. “We’re both stubborn. We usually get what we want, don’t we? I know this won’t go away for either of us until it’s done. I’m the one who always told you to go get what you want and never settle, remember? Maybe what we both want is right here. This old gal still has a few tricks up her sleeve,” she said, a sly smile on her face.
“We don’t need tricks, Diana,” he said, “and you are far from old.”
“Maybe I haven’t wanted to admit to certain feelings,” she said. “I’ve never wanted to do anything to hurt you or take advantage of you. More than anything, I love you.”
“I know you’d never want to hurt me,” he said, his curled fingers holding the doorframe. “And I’m thinking so clearly. You don’t know how clearly I’m thinking. I made up my mind a long time ago about what I want. It’s you.”
The edge of the satin sheet she’d been holding in place with her hand slipped free, exposing her long, slim legs up to her thighs. He came to the realization as he watched that what he had fantasized for so long was about to happen. She was there for the taking, ready and willing to be with him.
“Just so we understand each other,” she said, “I don’t see you as a boy. I haven’t for a long time. I see you as an equal, someone who worked as hard as I did to get to the top. Michael, my heart and my eyes see what you’ve become. But it can only happen this once. I have a life here with my girls, and they wouldn’t understand.”
He had stood listening to her, knowing once they loved she would change her mind.
“Yes, Diana,” he responded.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” she asked, a smile on her face as she inched the top of the sheet down her collarbone with her fingers.
Rushing to the bed, he had placed a tiny kiss on her forehead, then moved his lips to her ear. “I guarantee you won’t regret it, Miss Ross….”
Michael looked out on his flower garden through the glass panes of his window. He watched a hovering bumblebee navigate the morning dew and land on the petal of an open pink rose. Another day was beginning at Neverland Valley Ranch. Another day without his glorious Diana.
A small noise disrupted his thoughts. He turned to establish the cause.