Return II

Chapter 2

Taryn's POV

I sit in the hall way as my family catches up with Michael. I don't know why I haven't greeted him yet, but it just doesn't feel right. Not now. I know he needs more time with his family—especially Natalie.

I have thought long and hard about what to do with my daughter. There are so many ways that this can go and as her mother I feel obligated to choose what's best for her. And for that reason, I have decided that taking her off of life support and letting her go peacefully is the best for her.

I know I told Prince and Paris that I would hold on and wait and pray for fast recovery, but the more I think about it, the more I think that keeping her on life support is just letting her suffer, and that's not fair to her, or anyone else. And as much as I do not want to let my daughter go—as much as we all want to see her wake up, I know that this is the best for her, and it'll hurt, but my decision is final.

After pacing the hall for about ten minutes, my feet carry me to the front desk. The old lady behind it is talking on the phone and she holds up her index finger to tell me she will be with me in a moment. I nod and wait for the call to end and when it does, she smiles up at me.

"What can I do for you, Miss?"

"Hi, I'm looking for nurse Ainsley."

"She's with a patient at the moment. What room are you?"

"My daughter is in 125. Will you tell her to come see me when she's available?"

"Sure thing, honey."

"Thank you."

"You betcha."

By the time I leave the front desk, my heart is pounding. I cannot believe I'm making such a decision and it breaks my heart to think about it, but when I do, I remember that if the roles were reversed, Natalie would do the same for me. She wouldn't want me to suffer. She doesn't deserve this. This is my fault, anyway. The least I can do is pull her from her suffering and let her be peaceful.

"Mom?" Blanket's voice sounds from the doorway and I turn to him. Hearing my son call me "mom" sends shivers down my neck and spine. He hasn't referred to me as "mom" since he was about two or three, and even then it was hard to get him to address me correctly.

"Hey, honey. What's up?" I ask and he steps out of the room and joins me in the hallway. He looks at me with concern and tilts his head with his eye brows furrowed. I try to wipe the sadness and fear from my face, but he catches on before I have the chance to alter emotions.

"What's wrong?" he asks and I shake my head. "Nothing, honey. What's going on?" I ask and he shakes his head, then shifts his weight. "Don't lie." he demands, taking a seat in the first of the three chairs that are lined to the right of the door.

I shake my head again and he stares at me. He has always stared at people. Either when he was trying to get them to admit to something, or just because he was interested in them. Either way, there is no way to dodge those eyes. They force words out of your mouth before you even have time to process them.

"I've just been thinking a lot about Nat, that's all." I say, nodding. "We all have been." Blanket says and I'm relieved that he doesn't suspect anything behind my tone of voice. I walk to him and squat in front of him. He peers at me with the dark eyes that had been given to him by his father. Oh, how he reminds me so much of that man. His has all of his features.

I grab my son's hand and rub the top with my thumb. I bring my other hand up to his face and stroke his hair, then cup his cheek. 

"I know it hurts, baby. No one expects something like this to happen. It's hard on all of us and I'm sorry it's been so long since we've seen each other. I'm sorry that this had to happen before you guys could spend enough time to catch up. I feel horrible about it all and I will admit, I still have regret. But we have to move on from the pain and look past it. All the regret and anger, we have to let go of it. Okay? For her." My voice is so soft it could be mistaken for a whisper. I try not to cry as the words fall out of my mouth. Blanket nods and squeezes my hand. 

"My Prince Michael," I whisper and look down at the floor, then back up at him. "I don't want you to ever forget how much I love you. And when your father and I split up, it wasn't because of you two. Michael and I love you two so much and there's nothing we wouldn't do for either of you. And even Prince and Paris, too. You all mean the world to us. And whatever we do it's for the best of you kids." My small speech is carried out to drop small hints on Blanket. I want him to understand that my decision is for the best. I know how stubborn he can be, and I want him to understand that I am not doing this to be selfish. 

"Why are you acting like you're saying goodbye?" Blanket asks in a choked voice. "Nobody's going anywhere, why are you—"

"Let's just forget it for now, okay, honey? Everything's going to be alright, I promise." I stand a little and bring my son in for an embrace. "We'll get through this, baby. Okay? Everything will be fine." I assure him once again and he nods and sniffles into my shoulder. 

"Please forgive me." I whisper so quietly that I'm sure he didn't hear me.

...

"Taryn Spethan?" A voice interrupts my son and I's emotional moment. I pull away quickly and stand, turning around. "Hi." I say as I wipe my face free of tears. "I was told you need to talk to me. About Natalie?"

"Yes, um. . ." I turn around and find Blanket tuning in to our conversation. "Can we talk, honey?" I ask and he glares at me with concern. "It's okay, we're just talking." I assure him and he nods slowly. He stands and opens the door. Still facing Ainsley and I, he walks back into the room and slowly closes the door behind him.

I turn back to Ainsley and she smiles. "My son." I say and she nods. "He's very handsome." She compliments and I thank her. "He looks just like his father. Natalie, she's a mixture." I say and she smiles.

"Is he older?" she asks and I smile, shaking my head. "They're twins." I say and her eyes widen. "Oh, really? How neat!" She says and I nod. "Yeah. Blanket was born first, but Natalie was bigger than him, believe it or not. He was seven and a half pounds and she was nine." Ainsley gapes and I chuckle at the memory. Oh, how those babies screamed when they came out.

"Your son's name is Blanket?" She asks and I smile. "We were always asked that." I say and she tilts her head. "It's a nickname." I say and she nods. She opens her mouth to speak, but before we can go into full detail about names and my family, I change the subject. The last thing I want is her to catch on to the fact that Blanket is Michael Jackson's son and that he has a secret sister and mother that nobody knows about.

"Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I thought about what you told me to think about." I say and her smile fades. "Let's have a seat." She suggests and I nod. We walk to the chairs that Blanket rested in and sit. A few moments of silence pass and I sigh before speaking.

"I've been thinking a lot. I really have. And as a mother, things like this are very  hard to think about, let alone make a decide." I say and Ainsley nods. "I know, I have a son." She says and rests her hands on top of my folded ones. 

"Anyway, I know that I should hold on and wait to see, but I feel like keeping her here and on the support system is just letting her suffer." I pause and sniffle, tears prick my eyes but I ignore them. I could care less if I cry in front of the nurse. I'm sure she has seen and talked to many mothers who have made a decision similar to this.

"So, I made a decision, and. . .I think I'm going to... discharge her." I stutter slowly, almost unable to understand myself. Before I can finish the sentence I'm in tears and Ainsely brings me in for a sympathetic embrace. 

The door of the room my daughter and family is in slams and I yank myself from the nurse just as the latch meets the frame and only part of my son's face was visible through the small space.

Blanket.

He heard.