I Just Can't Stop Loving You

Chapter 11. Like When We Used to Be in Love...

Michael followed his wife's Maserati towards Bel-Air, where they would have lunch. Maria Vargas-Johnson was the executive chef for the exclusive hotel, a position that she had held for the past six years. During her tenure, the hotel had won many awards for its cuisine. Back when she'd first gotten the position, in late 1981, Michael and Beth were frequent diners in the hotel's restaurants and cafes.

But they hadn't been out for ages. Not on anything approaching a real date. Michael didn't even know Beth cared about anything like that until the fit she'd thrown in September. I mean, how many married couples with four kids actually went out like that? And going out was always hard for him these days.

Truth be told, he realized after the session that he had withdrawn from her quite a bit after Heather was born. Deep down, he'd blamed himself and his addiction to her for the difficulty of the delivery. After all, her doctor told them around the seventh month that she needed rest, and that they really should stop having sex just to be safe. But Michael hadn't wanted to do that. The stress of the Victory tour and the rifts that it had caused in his family meant that he needed the comfort of his wife's arms even more. And they'd always made love right up to her delivery dates with no problem...

That hadn't been the cause of the bleeding. Dr. Stern had to assure Michael of that, because he was damn near hysterical when he saw her hemorrhaging and growing weaker and weaker, her caramel skin losing its golden bronze cast and becoming ashen. While two obstetrics specialists took over, Dr. Stern had pulled him into the hallway.

"We should've done a C-section," said the doctor. "The baby's in distress and is trying to turn around in the birth canal. Sue me if you like, but please, don't go nuts on my watch. I don't want all your fans to string me up."

But Michael wasn't thinking about suing Dr. Stern. When he was told that his wife would live, and even though she needed intensive care, so would their starry-eyed baby girl, he swore that he would grow up a bit and act more like a responsible husband and father, not a lovesick, horny teenager who couldn't sleep unless he'd screwed his wife. Besides, it was a good thing to go without sex. Celibacy cleared your mind so that you could focus on other things... he'd gone without for twenty-two and a half years, so certainly he could cut back his demands on his wife, couldn't he?

Beth didn't complain. She didn't reach for him in bed or try to seduce him in any way. So Michael had figured that it was what she wanted, but hadn't had the heart to tell him because she was such a good wife.

Which made him feel worse.

It wasn't celibacy he'd been thinking about when he'd first met her, though. He hadn't planned to make love with her seven times within their first twenty-four hours after having sex, either. People just didn't understand... the girl drove him so wild until he couldn't help but want more and more of her. His brothers certainly didn't get it.

***********

February 2, 1981 – afternoon.

After his argument that morning with his lawyer, publicist, and father, the last thing Michael wanted to do that afternoon was to talk to his brothers about his new girlfriend. He knew he was up for a lot of hot air, teasing, and jiving. But he had a meeting scheduled with them over Marlon's house about the short film concept for "Can You Feel It?" Cancelling on them would only delay the inevitable.

Frowning, wishing for the millionth time that he wasn't the third youngest Jackson, Michael snapped off his sunglasses and walked up to Marlon's house. But Randy had the door open, and his wide grin boded absolutely no good for his big brother.

"Well hello there, Mr. Jackson, Man of the World! Allow me to usher you in and give you the seat of honor!"

"Oh, God," said Michael. But Randy pulled him into Marlon's living room, where the other brothers were waiting, slapping him on the back as if he'd just won a prizefight.