A Million Way's To Love You™∽For All Time∽♥Book 5

∽Chapter 28∽

*Michael's Point Of View*

"Mister Jackson, Tell me why you are here again, please. ", The gray haired man asks for the second time. Tearing away from my concentration on my finger nails, I glance up at him. His name; Randall Wilson. A well renowned therapist here in California. He specializes in people with addictions or addiction psychology.

He was recommended by Misses Burgess-Brown. I love Marilyn's mother. I adore her as a matter fact, but I hate her choice in "professionals". Doctor Wilson is head of my hit list. He is annoying and so is his office; which is scattered with howls. Everywhere you look there are a pair of big ass howl eyes, tearing a hole into yours.

"Mister Jackson... ", Doctor Wilson interrupts, crossing his legs all the while starring at me contently. I roll my eyes and turn my gaze on him. "Doctor Wilson...  Glad we know our names.",-"Mister Jackson, I need your cooperation.", Turning my gaze on the mahogany owl, perched onto his desk lamp, I refrain from standing up and walking out.

I don't want to be here, I have made that very clear. The doctor knows this too; yet he won't stop pushing for answer's. "Okay... fine. Tell me about your childhood.", I chuckle sarcastically, glancing at him again. "Tell me about your childhood...", I retort smartly. Slowly removing his glasses, doctor Wilson sighs frustratedly.

"Mister Jackson-",-"It's Michael, Mister Jackson is in Los Angeles.", He shakes his head, disapproving my responses. "Okay, Michael. We are here to treat your addiction, in order to do that I must first find out who you are and where you come from.", I shrug, before answering.

"The whole world knows my story. I'm a black man from Los Angeles that had a simple dream that led to a pretty damn good future.", He jots every word as I speak, only pausing to look at me as if he found an answer to his question. "If your future is so great, Why are you here?", I pause, taking in his question. I honestly don't know.

My family, My health, are reason's leading to my purpose of being here. Taking my silence as progress, Doctor Wilson gives me a promising smile. "You. You are the attribute to every action that led to this visit. Own it Michael.", His tone held hope, which honestly gives me relief. I know he is right. I just hate to admit it. "Michael, Own it.", He repeats.

I wipe my face, fighting with my conscience. After five minutes of silence, I nod in agreement before answering. "I am an attribute. I have been afraid to admit it.",-" Why is that?", I play with my finger's. "Because I hate becoming my father. Even though I know I am.", Doctor Wilson nods. "Who are you Michael?", He asks, fixing his eyeglasses. I tilt my head to the side in confusion.

"I have already told you. I'm Michael Joseph Jackson, I have four children and a wife of nineteen year's and I-", "Who are you Michael?", He repeats, his stare solid and tone serious.  What in the Hell?! This man is crazy! "Look, I told you already. I'm Mich-", He shakes his head.

"No Michael, Who are you?",-" I don't know what in the Hell you are asking! I have already told you! How many damn time's do I have to tell you my fucking name?!", He grins, adding onto his notes. "Have you considered anger management?",-"Have you considered an asylum? Because you are fucking crazy.", I retort, standing up.

"Michael, please sit back down.", I flash him a long hard stare before answering. "This session is over. I might come back. I might not. Good day.", With that, I exit calmly.

*Marilyn's Point Of View *

"How's Michael doing in therapy?", My mother asks, removing the brownies from the oven. I inhale the chocolate treat before replying. "Great, I guess. He hates the fact that he can't come home for another few weeks and a month, but I guess it's working.", Mother nods, fanning the brownies as she places them on a platter.

"That's nice. He isn't having any after effects is he?", I shake my head. "No, not yet at least. His body will discharge hopefully after the week is over. At least that's what Doctor Wilson says.", Mother shakes her, leaning against the simk.

"Wow... chemical discharge is terrible, I've read about it. I'm glad it's just prescription drugs and not the real deal.",-" I'm just scared. I don't want him to relapse after his two month's. I want him to be here as long as i can have him mom. I-I...", I choke out, feeling the sting of threatening tears. "Awe baby...", Mother sighs, walking over to me.

Taking me in her arm's, she gently rubs my back, whispering words of encouragement. I cling to her shirt. I haven't had a hug Like this in almost a month now; two week's to be exact. Besides Yuli , I have no one to confide in. So having my mother here, makes my load lighter.

"I want you to be strong for Michael and your babies. Jordyn needs her mommy to be strong and Brandon needs his maid of honor to be well prepared for next month.", Mother enthuses, breaking our hug. I hiccup nodding in agreement.

"You are right. It just becomes so overwhelming at times, especially at night. He's my everything mom. My everything. I can't loose him.",-" And you won't honey. Michael is strong, he will fight this addiction and return home happy and healthy.", I force a smile.

"I hope so...", after giving me one last squeeze, she sashays over towards the brownies. "Well my dear, I have baked my beautiful naked brownies. You Just call the sweethearts and I'll grab us a few before I am ambushed.", I giggle, nodding. "Yes ma'am.", I turn to walk out, only to be greeted by a very hyper Dylan.

"I smell brownies!!", He exclaims, pushing past me. Rushing up to the platter of brownies, he licks his lips then reaches over to grab one. Before he was inches away, mother smacks his hands swiftly. "Ah. Ah. Ah. Ladies first. Where's the rest of the rascal's? ",-" Nana, come on... Please?", He whines,.throwing his head back in frustration. Mother giggles.

"No, Wait for everyone else.", He opens his mouth to retort, but the rest of the rascal's enter the kitchen. Every single one of them has hunger written on their faces. "Damn... I-I mean, Dang Misses Burgess-Brown, You have the kitchen smelling like heaven!", David moans licking his lips. Mother blushes, giggling like a teenage school girl.

"David stop hitting on my family, First my little sisters, then my mom and my dad now my grandma! Why don't you marry them?", Brandon jokes, walking over to the brownies. "Don't touch my brownies. Not until my baby comes in here.", Brandon rolls his eyes playfully. "Nana, Jordan can't even eat brownies. She Only has two teeth.", mother shrugs.

"I don't care. Just bring me my baby. Then we will eat.", Sighing reluctantly, Branding steps away from the brownies. After two more minutes of complaints on how hungry they are for brownies, David, Dylan, and Brandon go on a search for Jasmine and Jordyn. Returning two minute's later with a fussing Jordyn, Dylan proclaims victory.

"Okay we have them. Brownies please.", Mother and I exchange amusing glances before agreeing. "Y'all drug me downstairs for brownies and didn't tell me?! That's selfish. ", Jasmine complains, handing Jordyn to mother. The boy's snicker as she walk over to gain a treat or two. "Mom, I think we should leave while we can.", I giggle out over the fuss.

She nods, pecking Jordyn's cheek. "Yeah let's get out of here.", We quickly exit and stroll over to the living room. "So, my dear daughter, I'm going to ask you a personal question.", Mother, expresses, carefully taking a seat in a mocha, recliner. I sigh, plopping onto the love seat adjacent to her. "Okay. What is it?", She giggles, shaking her head.

"Mom...",-"Okay, okay. This is so embarrassing, but how do you and Michael, keep it fresh?", I furrow my eyebrows. "Fresh?", She nods. "Yes, You know hot. I mean Jordyn was made somehow...", I face palm myself. "Mom, really?", She laughs loudly, rocking Jordyn. "Yes, Patrick has been trying this new thing's where he-", I out my hand's up, silencing her.

"Oh my God. No. I don't want to know. I'm done with this conversation.", I stand from the sofa. "What? I maybe a little order but I still like playing with my husband. You should try role play. Oh Patrick loves that... ", She enthuses, smirking at her recollection.

I stare at mother for a long two minutes before turning to walk away, desperately trying to get the thought of my almost fifty-six year old mother role playing With her husband. Lord help us all...

To Be Continued...