By the time I saw Michael in person again, he had married nurse Debbie Rowe and even earned two additional children from her. These kids, Paris and Prince, were two of the sweetest little angels. Nannies were around to help out, of course.
It wasn't long before I noticed Michael still wearing his wedding ring, not very long after we shook hands. Jetlagged, I entered this hotel room without the nannies or kids. Fans muffled their chanting screams through closed glass windows.
"How's everything?" Michael asked me as he sat with me in this living room, trying to make small talk. For the first time in years, I'd never felt so awkward around him. I didn't know whether to start discussing Jamie or walk to leave him alone.
"The kids are beautiful." I said, clearing my throat to avoid watching the foreign backdrop instead of listening to Michael. He had finally stopped touring for the "HIStory" album last year, but of course, Mike still loved to travel around.
"Thank you. How's Jamie holding up without me?" Michael already wanted to reach that particular rabbit hole. I hadn't told Jamie about Prince, Paris, or even Michael's marriage. At least not yet. Breaking her little heart at six years old would end me.
"She's doing great in school, but still misses you terribly. It's a shame that you haven't even told her about anything different in your life. Why? I can't always tell the bad news" I folded my arms, prompted to defend my baby, the princess that we made. Michael soon dropped his head, trying to conjure up reasons for this chaos.
"I'm just tired of waiting, Angela. Even if you wanted another child, it wouldn't be with me." Michael lowered his voice and already started pacing around, of course restless at this point. My eyes popped as I quickly realized what he meant.
"Mike, you never even admitted feelings to me." I stood my ground, but still tried to understand his point. There was no other choice. As much as we bickered right now, I'd never wanted to fully disrespect him. We weren't children anymore.
"How can I say anything when you've got that damn hippie drawing on your shoulder!" Michael snipped, but still wouldn't yell out loud. I'd never heard so much frustration spew from him before, not even back when he'd married Lisa Marie.
Hippie drawing?! My thoughts screamed.
"What the hell did you just say?" I wanted to yell, but somehow allowed myself to hold me direct anger. This moment wasn't the time at all for us both to start fighting like a couple, even if he'd given me Jamie, but this was too personal.
"That wasn't a religious choice," Michael said, folded both arms as if I'd activated another side of him. Silence fell once more, but I still wanted to defend my best friend. If Skip were here, there'd definitely be some war of words for Jackson.
"What are you trying to say?" I questioned, trying to see if Michael would actually move down another rabbit hole and start tripping over something that meant so much to my best friend. My heart pounded. Even this lump formed in my throat.
"Don't be fooled. His name is Prince. He's gotta stop doing everything for shock value. It's not good." Michael surprised me once again. It took everything in me not to walk out and tell Skip everything that happened in the room. I'd fumed now.
"His name change wasn't about shock value, Michael! He was held down too much by his record label, even if they allowed creative control." I finally broke, screaming through all four walls of this room. Tears even began to spill from my brown eyes.
"Not my fault that he didn't own the master recordings. If he actually read contracts at the beginning of his career, we wouldn't have this conversation and Prince wouldn't have to change his name at all." Michael answered back.
"Michael, how do you even know that he didn't read those recording contracts back then? No one knows everything, not even someone like you." I snipped in return. Of course, I didn't meet Skip until 1980, but there was no way that he was stupid.
At my words, Michael stopped fussing and I left the hotel room.
____
"Can you stop being mad for ten seconds?" Skip called me out of nowhere from my own hotel room line. Michael and I hadn't talked to each other since our spat hours beforehand. I couldn't even remember what time it was across the pond right now.
"No way I'm just gonna take what he said. He disrespected you." I still fumed, but I'd finally return for Jamie tomorrow. If this rain let up, I'd be home by the afternoon. Silence filled this space as I sat on the bed. Lighting casted shadows.
"He's not the first person to disrespect me, girl. Just breathe. I'll be fine." Skip probably rested with the same position as me in his hotel room. He'd performed in London recently, but I unfortunately missed my own chance to see him live.
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"Okay, then. I'm packing now. Flying back home tomorrow. This is the longest time I've gone without Jamie nearby." I sighed, already missing motherhood. As I've said, that little girl definitely changed my life. There would be no more games.
"Can't you stay longer?" Skip asked me. I could already see the smirk that now lined his face. Images from recent outlets still showed his short brown haircut. To be honest, this look had been one of my favorites, whether or not we were friends.
"No, but why? Mayte and Larry are probably lurking somewhere around you anyway. We can't be seen together like that and you know it." I offered the truth. Not that I didn't want to see my best friend, but we couldn't afford media drama.
"I don't care. I'm calling a car to pick you up right after we stop talking." Skip brought down the hammer. He never acted like that before, even after all these years. I still didn't know what to think, but wanted to see if he bluffed instead.
Sure enough, there was this black limousine parked outside on the curb later that night.
