dchfifteen

The door opened slowly and the thin figure entered the room trying to ignore the stares of out-right astonishment. Katherine stared, her mouth dropped open. Michael? It couldn�t be, but the young man that stood in the doorway was a vision from the past. A figure sent to haunt her� Then the memories began to creep in. The green-eyed Mexican beauty that had been Michael�s constant companion; the dark haired woman who had turned to the tabloids when he had left. She had been a woman scorned, determined to convince the world that she was carrying Mike�s child. Mike had adamantly denied the connection and Kate had stood firmly by her son. After all, if her young son had fathered a child surely she would have known it. He would never have done anything like that, it wasn�t proper. Of all her children, she had believed in Mike. When the phone calls came she vehemently admonished the caller to quit calling there. Michael was NOT the boy�s father!

Staring at the figure in the doorway, Katherine�s eyes began to water, remembering how years later a young voice on the phone had begged her to listen, the sound of the banging receiver as she had cut him off now echoed in her ears.

�It was true.� She spoke out loud to the boy standing helplessly before her and she ignored the roomful of stares directed now at her.

�Mom?�

Katherine felt Jackie�s hand grab her as she began to move forward toward the boy. The grasp on her shoulder tightening to hold her back, but she shook him away and reached out for the boy whom she had rejected so long ago. My God, she thought, this was her grandson standing now before her looking pathetic and lonely in a room full of his own family. She put her arms around his thin shoulders and pulled him into her embrace, hugging him, crying into his thick, long, curly hair.

�What�s your name boy?� What an awful question to ask her own grandchild, it left a bitter taste in her mouth. She felt the tension as the entire room waited in silence for the answer but the boy remained silent, obviously frightened of the others. Taking his chin in her hand, she raised his head and looked into his deep, brown eyes. �What�s your name child?�

�Brandon.� He whispered, choking back the tears, partially of relief, partially of fear, partially of a lifetime of memories that would never be.

�Brandon.� Katherine repeated loudly. �My grandson, welcome to the family. Boy is your father gonna get it.� With that she felt the boy�s body sag into her, limp and crying.

Faith took Michael in her arms, and took the dead receiver from his hand, placing it back on the hook, she held him as he stared vacantly past her.

�What was that all about?� She asked.

�Brandon ran off.� Mike answered, still not looking at her, still staring at some unknown point in space.

�Who�s Brandon?� She thought for a moment he was talking about a dog, surely not. Surely he wouldn�t be this upset over someone�s dog running off.

�He�s my son.�

Faith pushed him back far enough to look into his eyes.

�Your son?�

Mike nodded sheepishly, but before he could begin to explain, the phone rang and startled them both into silence.

�Hello?� Mike answered on the first ring, having grabbed the phone out of reflex, hoping it was Carmen calling to say Brandon had returned� that he had only run out for a moment without telling her� that he had changed his mind� that he was sorry� that he was okay� anything� please Lord, he prayed silently as he waited for a response� seconds passed that seemed like an eternity� please let it be news that Brandon was okay, he�d make up for everything� somehow�

�Where the hell have you been!�

Mike had never heard his mother as upset as she now sounded, and he knew that it was him she was upset with, he just couldn�t for the life of him figure out what she was mad about.

�You have a world of explaining to do boy. You get your ass down her to Cedar�s right this minute. Your father�s had a stroke.�

The words hit him like a brick right between the eyes. He could feel the pounding headache swelling in his temples, his head felt like it would explode. A stroke, damn, he should have made the old man see a doctor long before this, all those headaches� missing work� fatigue� he was sure his mom hadn�t known about all that. He had though, if anything happened to his father, it would be his fault. But surely she didn�t know that. So why was she so angry with him?

�I�ll be right there, mom, we have lot�s to talk about.�

�You got that right Mister!�

The phone went dead in Mike�s hand� didn�t anybody believe in saying good by anymore? He shook his head and replaced the receiver.

�Now what?� Faith asked.

Mike told her about his father, about all the times he had called to say he wouldn�t be in to the office because he had a headache, because he was tired, because he didn�t feel well� He told her of the times he had walked into his father�s office to find him with his head in his hands� headache. Of the times he walked in to find him asleep in his chair at his desk� tired. Of the times he walked in to find him in the bathroom�. Sick. He told her of how he had known then that his father should be seeing a doctor instead of just going home� how he had known he should have pushed him, should have insisted� how did you insist to your own father that he should do something?

�It wasn�t your fault, Mike. He�s a grown man.� Faith tried to console him, but she knew it was useless� there was no consoling him when he felt like being a martyr. �What was all that about a son?� Maybe changing the subject would help and she sure did want to know. This was a new one on her, she knew about Prince, and Paris� the entire world knew about them, but she felt reasonably sure the world didn�t know about any Brandons.

Mike told her as he reached into the closet for his jacket, the sun was setting and it was getting much colder than normal for that time of year in southern California. He stopped for a moment and told her about Carmen, about their love, his denial, the baby, his denial, her anger, his denial, her stories to the press, his denial, her pleas to his family, his denial. He told her everything, three years worth crammed into the space of three minutes, he talked quickly and non-stop as a perplexed woman stared at him with her mouth agape. The he turned and walked out the door.

�You must be joking.� Marvin stood behind his desk, looking in amazement at the tiny blonde. �Billie Jean�s for real?�

Faith nodded and stood, pacing the office floor until she stopped in front of the desk, rested her hands on it�s top and leaned in, looking directly into the gray eyes in front of her.

�And I�ll deliver her and the boy to you. But not until I have a statement from you that the story is MINE.�

Well, well, the little bitch had him by the jockstrap, how interesting. Okay, he could play that game, just long enough for her to hang herself by it.