by Ann Lister
“It wasn’t all bad, Annie,” he began then wiped off the sweat from his palms across his thighs. “There were times when it was so good it was perfection and then I fucked up. I’ve never had a problem admitting that and I also paid heavily for my mistakes. If there was a way I could take it all back, I would.”
“Michael, if this is your lame attempt at an apology, don’t bother. It means nothing to me now.”
He made eye contact with her again. His face strained with emotion. “Saying I’m sorry wouldn’t begin to describe what I feel right now or what I feel every day. I’m sorry for everything I said or did that caused you a moment of pain.”
Annie’s eyes fell to the baby. “I’m sorry I ever met you,” she said quietly.
His shoulders slouched in sadness. “Annie, you don’t really mean that.”
“Don’t be too sure of it. Sometimes you think you really know someone, and then it turns out you never knew them at all.”
“If our paths had never crossed, you wouldn’t have Sammi or Angel.” His head dropped to his lap. “We were a perfect fit.”
“Perfect for you, maybe. But I don’t call having a lying cheat for a husband, perfect domestic, bliss.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
Annie sighed heavily, bored with the conversation. “Michael, why did you come here and what exactly did you expect to gain by this unannounced visit?”
He stood abruptly and glanced toward the house. “You said I couldn’t see the kids until I got sober. Well, I’m sober now and I want to see them.”
“Fine. Have your lawyer call mine and make the necessary arrangements,” she replied, waving him off with her hand like hired help.
“I was hoping we could work this out between us without having to involve them.”
“Well, we all want things we can’t have,” she spat.
“Annie…”
“What?” she answered quickly and with annoyance.
He stood, glaring down at her, every muscle rigid in his body. Then in an act of defiance, he slid his sunglasses back onto his face. The brilliance of his eyes suddenly disappeared behind the dark lenses.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he muttered over his shoulder. Before she could answer, he was gone, leaving Annie in the dust of emotional turmoil.
As promised, early the next day, he returned. Annie was coming out of the baby’s room as he was stepping through the deck door.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she asked, resting Angel onto her hip.
“Good morning to you, too.” He was pushing his luck and he didn’t care. One way or another, he intended to spend time with his kids.
“You can't just walk in here as if you own the place. Fact is, I own it now!”
“Trust me, I’m well aware of the ownership of this place, babe. And for the record, I knocked before I entered. Maybe you should keep the door locked,” he mocked.
“Don't call me babe. I'm not your babe anymore.”
“Score one point for the home team,” he teased, removing his sunglasses and lifting Sammi from her playpen to snuggle and then lovingly kissed her chubby cheek.
“Do you think this is some sort of game, Michael? If I have to, I’ll get a restraining order against you.”
He spun to face her. “Annie, I’m not here to harm you and you know that. I only want to see my kids,” he sighed. “Any judge in this state would understand that.”
“Oh, really?” she glared at him.
Three days later, Annie felt like a tightly wound spring with the tension point exceeding the maximum limit. Jay had called twice and left messages and, for reasons only she knew, she hadn’t returned his calls. With Michael suddenly thrust back into her life, she had no room in her brain for anything else. She felt like a prisoner in her own home.
And yet, she knew all it would take was one phone call to her lawyer and Michael would be gone from her house and a regular visitation schedule put in place. Every time she heard his boots crossing the back deck, her skin began to sweat, her pulse quickened, and her mind began to ache. His presence infuriated and disgusted her. She did her best to stay out of his way, but simply knowing he was on the property kept her tense and edgy from sunup ‘til sundown.
Michael hobbled in with Sammi bouncing upon his back and eased her softly onto the couch. He grimaced in pain while swinging open the freezer door.
“Can I help you?” she asked with sarcasm.
“Yeah. Do you have an ice pack?”
“Why? What’s the problem?”
Michael rubbed at his arm and the still-healing inner wounds. “I swear, Sammi has gained a few pounds just since I’ve been on the island,” he commented.
Annie reached into the back of the freezer and pulled out a bag of frozen peas. “Here, this will work the same as an ice pack,” she said, tossing him the bag. “Frankly, I think you’re trying too hard.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, making himself comfortable on the couch and applying the frozen vegetable bag to the back of his bicep. Annie ignored his question and breezed past him to settle the girls in for their afternoon nap. When she returned he reached and grabbed her by the wrist. “Come on, Annie. Sit with me so we can talk.”
Annie jerked her hand free from his grasp and scowled at him. “Why? What would be the point?”
“Does there always have to be a point, Annie?”
She stared at him blankly. “When it comes to you, yes!”
He shook his head. “Can’t you put aside your hate and contempt for five minutes and talk with me?”
Annie rolled her eyes in irritation and dropped herself into the chair in front of the couch, folding her arms hotly across her chest. The smile that formed on his face angered her even more. “Okay, fine. You’ve got five minutes,” she hissed. “What do you want to talk about?”
“How about your career intentions, do you plan on touring?”
“That’s none of your business!”
“Sure it is. If you plan on touring, I’d like to take care of the girls while you’re on the road.”
“Well, I’m not planning on touring any time soon, if at all, so you can forget your babysitting ideas right now.”
“Why wouldn’t you tour again? I know your CD is out on the shelves and figured a tour was probably in the works to promote it.”
Annie shook her head and rubbed at her face. “Lets see. Why wouldn’t I tour?” she mocked. “Well, for starters, I’m a single mother of two little girls that depend on me. And, before you say it, I’m not leaving them with you!”
“Is that the only reason?”
Annie squinted at him. Her anger increasing by the second. “Yes, of course it is.”
“Maybe you’re just afraid. Maybe you not wanting to tour has more to do with the fact you were attacked the last time you were out on the road?”
Annie jumped to her feet and threw her arms up in the air. “Okay. Your five minutes are over. I’m done talking.”
Michael stood and stopped her exit with his body.
“Get out of my way!” she seethed through clenched teeth.
He gazed down at her flawless face. Her deep blue eyes sparkled with liquid and her mouth quivered with emotion. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to upset you,” he apologized with sincerity.
“Bullshit.” Again she attempted to step around him and he blocked her departure.
“I only mentioned the incident because I care.”
“Oh, that’s right. You cared so much about the ‘incident’ you arrived at the hospital drunk out of your mind and made such an ass out of yourself that you needed an escort from the building! Thank God I was already gone.”
His eyes remained glued to her face. He appeared wounded and at a loss for words. “What’s the matter, Michael? Now who doesn’t like the topic of conversation?”
“No, I’m fine with it. Ask me anything you want,” he shrugged with ambivalence.
She studied him for a m
oment, trying to figure out his hidden agenda. Lately, everything with him seemed to take on a game-like appearance. “I can ask you anything I want?” she asked with caution.
“Sure. Go ahead. My life is an open book, but you already knew that,” he said attempting to make a joke.
Annie returned to the chair. “Okay, for starters, why don’t you tell me when you plan on leaving the island?”
He sat back on the couch and rested an ankle onto his knee. Then he stretched his arms over the back of the couch. “Well that depends on when or if you're leaving.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means, I intend to stay as close as possible to my kids. If you move back to Boston, I will too. If you’re planning on living here permanently, then I’ll buy a house in town instead of renting.”
Annie began to cry and quickly wiped each tear as it cascaded down her flushed cheeks. “So, basically you plan on stalking me?”
“That’s not what I meant,” he sighed, hating the fact he had made her cry. “I only want to be near my kids. We can arrange something on paper with our lawyers if it makes you feel more comfortable. But unless I drop dead tomorrow, I’m in their lives to stay.”
Annie wiped her face with her hands.
“I walked away from you and everything I owned when you divorced me, Annie. I’m not walking away from my kids for a second time.”
“I never asked you for anything, except for this house,” she cried.
“I didn’t say you did. I told my lawyer to give you anything you wanted to keep you happy. I felt it was the least I could do for the pain I caused you. But, to my surprise, you didn’t ask for anything.”
He ran his hands nervously through his hair. “And you know what? You not wanting anything hurt more than if you had taken everything I had. It was the final stab to my heart, knowing that nothing I had or what we had accumulated together meant anything to you.”
He waved his arms around in the air. “Except for this house. I would have thought this place harbored too many memories for you and be too painful to live here. But I guess I was wrong about that too.”
“The memories made me feel safe,” she mumbled, her eyes in her lap. “Sammi was conceived here.”
He forced a smile onto his pained face. “Yes, I remember that night,” he replied. “We had a lot of nights like that in this place.”
Then his eyes glanced over toward the spot on the floor in front of the fireplace. “I remember the night you told me you were pregnant as if it was yesterday.” His eyes fell back to her. “Too many nights to count.”
She felt naked beneath his stare, open and very vulnerable. For a brief weakened moment, her thoughts were consumed with the memories and the love they had shared then. Her heart beat loudly in her throat and somehow the walls of the room seemed to be shrinking in around them.
An awkward pause fell between them and Annie dropped her eyes to the floor. “Can I ask you something else?”
“Of course.”
“What are the doctors saying about your arm?”
He forced a smile onto his strained face. “Do you want to hear the truth or what my agent keeps feeding the press?”
“The truth,” she requested, and shifted nervously in the chair, bracing for what he might say next.
A long weighty sigh expelled from his chest. Self-consciously, he reached to rub the tender area surrounding his old wound. “Basically, the mobility I have now is as good as I can expect. As for playing guitar again…,” his voice trailed off. “Lets just say, I’ll never be able to play at the level I once did, and I’m okay with that. I had a career that lasted over twenty-five years that was never less than phenomenal. I won’t waste my energy complaining that it’s over now.”
“It sounds to me like you’re not even going to try and play again.”
His back stiffened on the couch. “Annie, the feeling still comes and goes in my finger tips. It’s kind of hard to handle the neck of a guitar when I can’t feel the wood or the frets. Besides, I’ve never done anything halfway in my life. To do that now would be an insult to myself and to the fans.”
“Under the circumstances, I think they’d understand.”
“There are other things I can do to remain ‘in the business’. For instance, I can produce new talent. But, for now, I’m happy to be alive.”
Annie nodded at him and smiled. “I suppose you’re right about that. Life truly is a gift.”
They were quiet and Annie began to fidget.
“Something else on your mind, Annie?”
“Yes.”
He nodded for her to continue.
“Can I ask why you’re still wearing your wedding ring?”
He smiled broadly. “I’m surprised you noticed,” he said, twisting the gold and diamond band around his finger. “I wear it on my right hand now, but to me, it still holds the same significance. I want it to be a constant reminder of what I had and what I lost.”
His blue eyes lifted and burned into hers. “Probably sounds pretty stupid to you, right?”
“No, not at all.” Self-consciously, she reached and felt her empty ring finger and remembered the day she took off her wedding rings.
Michael crossed his legs and rubbed at his forehead. His fingers grazed the small scar from his drunken rage in New York. He smiled at the memory.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, instantly taking a defensive stance.
“I’m surprised you didn’t ask about the scar on my head,” he smirked.
“I figured it was none of my business,” she sniffed.
“I did this to myself the night before Bull signed me into rehab,” he stated, looking her directly in the eye. “It was after the award show. Bull found one of your new CD’s and gave it to me. I went back to my hotel room, listened to it, and went berserk, totally tore the room apart. Furniture in pieces, broken glass, you name it. I must have cut my head on the glass. When Bull found me, I was covered in blood but I don’t remember a thing. Not one of my proudest moments.”
Annie’s eyes fell. “The CD wasn’t all that bad, Michael,” she spoke softly.
Michael quickly reached out and touched her arm. “Annie, I didn't say it was bad. In fact, I thought it was great. But the lyrics destroyed me because I knew a lot of the hostility and pain you wrote about involved me. It was a real eye-opener to what I had done to you, but I've never been more proud of your talent.”
His lips curled into a brilliant smile. “And the cover art…”
“What about it?”
Michael rubbed at his chin. “It blew me away.”
Annie smiled and began to shift uneasily in her seat. “Well, I guess I’ll get supper started while the girls are still sleeping.”
As she stood to leave, Michael caught her hand and gently pulled her to a stop.
“Thanks, Annie.”
“For what?”
“For talking to me as a human being and not the man you hate for the sheer fact I’m breathing the same air as you.” To his surprise, she didn’t remove her hand from his.
“Michael, I may never get to the point where I can enjoy being in the same room as you. But, no matter how I may feel about you in the years to come, the fact still remains: you are the father of my children. And with that illustrious title comes a certain amount of respect.”
He nodded in agreement. Then his eyes dropped to their clasped hands and he watched as her tiny hand slid from his fingers. In the blink of an eye, the warmth of her touch was gone.
The days passed slowly. For every inch Michael felt he’d gained on winning back his family, Annie pushed him back a mile. She was determined to keep him at arm’s length. Her pride wouldn’t allow anything more. They continued to play the same painful game, each insistent to be the winner, but neither being sure of the prize or the cost attached to achieving it.
After another long day of attempted congeniality, Annie tucked Angel into her crib for an afternoon nap and doubled-checked on S
ammi before returning to the living room. Michael was kneeling next to the couch gathering the scattered toys and putting them into the wooden toy box beside the fireplace. Silently, she joined him in the task.
“What time is it?” he asked, tossing the last toy into the box.
“You don’t have to stay, Michael, if that’s what you’re thinking. They’ll be asleep for a while.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind. Besides, I promised Sammi we’d go into town later for ice cream.”
Annie sighed with distress. “Sammi it too young to care about getting ice cream. So, why don't you tell me why you're really here?”
He glanced at her with curiosity. “To spend time with my kids.”
That can’t be the only reason, because you and I both know all it would take is one quick phone call to our lawyers and a visitation schedule could be agreed to this very afternoon. You could be seeing the girl’s at your own place instead of wasting your days here.”
Michael slid onto the couch and rubbed the fatigue from his face. “What are you trying to say, Annie? Are you uncomfortable having me around so much?”
“To be brutally honest, yes, I am.”
“Then I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention. I was only doing it this way to make it easier on the kids since this is the only house they’ve ever known.”
“Yes, I’ll give you that. But I’m also sensing there is more to your reasoning than what you just said.”
He gazed at her thoughtfully, his eyes reflecting a mournful sense that made her heart lurch. Then he bent forward, resting his elbows against his firm thighs, with his hands pressed together as if he were praying.
“Okay, if I can be brutally honest, I'm here because I also wanted to spend time with you. I miss being with you.”
She cringed when she heard his words and shrunk back against the toy box. “I was afraid you might say something like that.”
“Why? Does it upset you to think I’d still want to spend time with you?”
“Yes.”
“Can I ask why?”
Annie leaned forward, obviously agitated by his comments. “Because we’re divorced! This can’t be healthy for either of us.”