You Give Me Fever || Michael Jackson

Chapter 17: Doubted And Promised

Michael's at work now, and has been for the past few hours. It's 5:18pm, and I'm in the house with mom and dad. It's been a while since we really bonded together, like a proper family. We're playing games and acting silly, and I must say, I'm enjoying it.

"Hey, dad!" I laugh. "You cheat!"

"What?" he asks innocently, moving his counter seven spaces instead of six, in Snakes and Ladders. "I'm moving perfectly fine."

"Yeah, yeah," I roll my eyes and chuckle, and take my turn. I roll a 3, and move four spaces to prove a point.

"Hey!" dad cries, "you're cheating!"

"Yeah, remind you of anyone, dad?" I ask, a smirk growing on my face.

"Alright, alright," mom breaks up the joke-argument. "Let's all just play properly now. Gosh, acting like five-year-olds!"

"But mom," I say. "That's my mental age, I can't help it."

"I know that, you silly thing," mom chuckles, taking her turn. She rolls a one, and moves five spaces.

"Who's a cheat now, huh?" I ask, half joking, half angrily.

"Yeah, yeah," mom smiles, and hands the dice to dad. He rolls, and gets a 3. He moves three spaces, not noticing he's landed on a snake.

"Oh, Karma's a bully!" I laugh, sliding his counter down the snake for him. He groans in defeat and I take my turn. Four.

"One, two, three, four.." I count, landing on a ladder. I climb up it, and mom takes the dice.

"My go," she says. The doorbell goes, and mom throws the dice onto the table and gets up. "I'll get it."

"Alright," I say, and me and dad wait for mom to come back.

"So, Becky, how are things with you and Michael? He seemed a little sad this morning," dad says.

"Oh, he's alright. He just told me something last night that upset him a little, that's all," I answer.

"Oh, right. Anything majorly bad?"

"Uh.. kinda," I say awkwardly.

"Well, what was it, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Uhm.." Do I tell him or not?

It was Michael's secret, not mine. What if he doesn't want the whole world knowing he has a low sperm count?

Do I tell dad or not? Do I tell dad or not? Do I tell dad or--

"Becky?"

"Sorry," I shake my head to rid my trance, and look at dad, who is smiling at me. "Uh.. it's just that.. Michael has a little problem, that's all. He can't.. he can't have children."

"Oh, why?" dad asks.

Crap, I didn't want him to ask that.

"Well, uh--"

"Becky, there's someone at the door for you," mom calls from the doorway. She's saved me, there.

"Be right back, dad," I say, running from the room to go to the door.

"Who is--" I don't even need to ask.

"I'll leave you to it," mom says, leaving the doorway.

"Hi, Beck--"

"Don't even," I stop her, holding my hand up in her face. "Why aren't you with Alex, anyway? And how did you know where I am?"

"Because," Lisa starts, "Alex knows you're here, and he told me, silly! Alex and I have decided to give ourselves a go, actually, like Michael suggested. But me and Michael need to get a divorce."