With Michael

Chapter 78 - Remedy

I am so sorry for the long wait, I had a busy week!

~ShoamEmily

~

16th of June, 2009
Brooklyn is 43, Michael is 50

Brooklyn: "Honey, dinner is ready!" my mother called from the kitchen.

"I'm not hungry, mom." I said, leaning back on their comfortable armchair.

"Sweetheart," dad sighed. "You haven't eaten in two days. It's not good for you or the baby."

"I don't care about this baby. I'm not hungry."

"Sweetheart-"

"Don't lecture me, dad." I snapped.

He raised up his hands in surrender, "Did you talk to Michael today?"

"No." I rolled my eyes at my husband's name.

"Maybe you should give him a call to see how he's doing. And maybe let the kids talk to him, they miss him." my dad suggested.

I shook my head.

Was I worried about Michael? Yes, absolutely. But I was so disappointed in him.

"Sweetheart, I know you're mad at him, but why does it have to come at the expense of your baby's health? He needs to eat, and so do you. Please, if not for yourself, than for me." dad pleaded.

He offered me a hand. I sighed and took it. He helped me stand, smiling at me.

Just as we started walking to the dining room, my phone rang in my pocket.

I took it out, scrunching my eyebrows as I looked at Kenny Ortega's name blaring on the screen.

I decided go ignore it, and joined my dad.

He can leave a message.

~

"Goodnight, mommy." Paris kissed my cheek.

She gave my bump a rub before going upstairs with Marie.

The rest of my kids were already upstairs, all of them in their beds.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket to see if Kenny left a message.

He did, and not just one, but five.

"Brooklyn, I'm calling about Michael. Please, give me a call back, I have to talk to you." he said in the first one.

The rest were the same, and as much as he sounded hysteric, I deleted all of the messages he left.

I was not in the mood to talk about my husband, especial not with Kenny.

"Here you go, sweetheart." dad smiled as he walked into the living room with two mugs in his hand.

"Hot cocoa?" I perked up. I used to love it when my dad made me hot cocoa as a child.

"You know it." he put one of the mugs in my hand.

He sat next to me, placing his hand over my stomach, "I'm so proud of you. Five grandchildren? That's more than a grandfather could ask for..."

"Six. You forgot Jason." I giggled.

My dad joined me. The baby probably heard me laughing, because he started kicking.

Dad gasped since he never actually felt him. I just let him feel the baby while sipping on my drink.