"Hey- Lise- come with me to the car. I got some stuff for....for the kids...and since I ran into you and all...uhm...you could take it with you."
He didn't seem to want to get away from me as I had feared. And why did he still go Christmas shopping...
15 minutes into the little ride, I was reminded that my delusion as to my capacity of being friends with Michael just like I’m friends with Danny was just that: insane crap. First of all, he made me do things I didn’t really want to. Like taking a ride. And he had the most rational sounding explanations.
“Why are we moving?”
“Cause people might storm the car.”
I had looked around. “What people?” Maybe there were elves or fairies only he could see.
“My fans.”
Invisible fans, this time? They were good!
“They seem to have backed off to leave you alone. Maybe it’s their Christmas present to you. Or maybe they have more important things to do: like finish their shopping.”
He looked at me as if he found it highly unlikely that his fans had anything more important on his mind than him…and he might just be right. But hey- I loved to shake him a bit. Felt good to push the old buttons again.
“Or they just have not found out where we are parked.”
“Yeah- they are probably working on this plan to kidnap both of us. Cash for extra presents.”
Michael shot me a look, knowing I was referring to one of the things he always told me: that we would be kidnapped. Oh, the fun I have had with him about that one. And oh, how he had hated to made fun of.
Now, I have to be fair: I’ve been with Michaels when it had seemed that people would carry a heavy ass SUV or limo off with us in it.. This just simply did not seem to be one of those occasions. But hey, seemed like a good enough explanation. So, I was along for the ride. Again.
“So…got some last minute shopping done? You look well- I almost didn’t recognize you.”
“Cause I look well?” I shot him a lopsided grin.
He giggled and reached for my hand. “No, cause you don’t wear make-up in public. I see your hair is longer again. Nice.” Letting go of my hand, he instead touched my braid and I backed away. No touching! WAY too dangerous! There was that odd feeling in my belly…expanding like a warm, gooey spiral.
“I’m incognito. Like you. Nice get-up, by the way. What were you going for? Hip homeless man who just stepped out of bed?”
“I was going for blending in.” Michael started to look annoyed. Oh he hated to have his camouflage skills questioned.
I laughed. “You might wanna work on that, ye of the Flaming Jammies.”
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