chapter fifteen – blame it on the boogie part i

Tuesday, March 1st, 1988 - New York City

The steady light rain drenched the city for the second straight day as the midmorning traffic moved slowly through the busy downtown streets. It wasn’t even a good thunderstorm worth taking note of. It was just a slow continuous drizzle making it bone chilling damp and somewhat annoying if you wanted to get anywhere. And being that it was New York City, there were a lot of people trying to get somewhere and get to that somewhere quickly.

Located in the heart of Manhattan across the street from St. Patrick's Cathedral and only steps from Rockefeller Center sits the Hemsley Palace Hotel. Offering the very finest in old-world elegance and new-world opulence it is known for unparalleled extravagance, spectacular views, plush rooms and exquisite service. The Hotel's world-famous courtyard incorporates motifs from several 15th-century Italian cathedrals and has served as the entranceway to the historic Villard Mansion, built in the late 1800's. In 1974 a developer proposed the site for a new hotel. Opening in 1981 the Hemsley Palace gracefully blends The Villard Mansion with a contemporary 55-story high-rise where no luxury was spared. A true urban sanctuary in the city that never sleeps, not a peep from the busy outside world could be heard inside the luxury suites located on the upper floors of the hotel and no one was trying to go anyway. It was warm, cosy and wonderfully dry.

Allison rolled over onto her side tucking the sheets up underneath her chin. She was having the most wonderful dream of cotton candy clouds and floating above them in a hot air balloon with Michael. He was singing in his sweet beautiful voice holding her close... then suddenly he stopped abruptly. The basket shook back and forth and rocking unsteadily.
"Come on girl, time to get off the clouds."
“Huh...what?”
"Come on sleepy head time to get up."
She pulled the covers up over her head, she wasn't floating anymore, "noooo," she complained not wanting it to be a dream but to be real.
"Are you staying in bed all day?"
"What time is it,” she grumbled from under the covers.
Michael chuckled, "it's time to get up." He reached to pull the duvet from her hands.
"Michael… what?" She whined like a little girl.
"Ooh someone is so grumpy," he chirped way too happily.
She sighed and pushed the covers down to expose her face, “sorry.” She didn't mean to snap at him. She was grumpy, tired and pretty sure she was catching a cold with the feeling of being just generally run down.
"Are you coming with me or not?"
"To rehearsals?"
"No, to the press conference remember," Michael moved to sit at the edge of the bed. “Girl, you must be tired if you've forgotten already. We just talked about it yesterday."
Allison pushed herself to sit up, plumping her pillow behind her and stretched. He was right, she did forget.
"Sorry, right," she smiled. "I'm still half asleep. I am kinda surprised you’re up."
"I've only been up for a little while but you need to get ready if you want to come with me."

The Press Conference was specially arranged by Pepsi to preview the new four-part Pepsi Ads they had shot and for Michael to present a $600,000 cheque to the United Negro College Fund, the gross earnings for his private sold-out benefit concert to be held at Madison Square Garden on March 3rd. The donation made him one of UNCF’s most significant donators. It was being held at Club 10-18 and Michael had prearranged with Pepsi to get Allison a press pass. It would be filled with press and it would be easy for her to be there without raising any ones suspicion. What Michael didn’t know is that secretly Pepsi was hoping that Michael would take part in question and answer session and where linking the conference via satellite across the globe. They willing obliged to his request hoping that would make him more agreeable. After getting her a press pass Michael had asked her if she would bring her camera to get some shots that he could use on upcoming promotional material and it would help for her to pass as a member of the press too. The thought of joining him and doing what she loved best had definitely got her interest. But now he couldn’t seem to get her out of bed.
“Ally, I thought you wanted to come with me?”
"I do, I do," she assured him.
She really did want to be there. It was positive press so that was always good to. She found it astounding how little good press he got, especially with all the wonderful things he did. But Michael had already told her that he tried not to bring the press to his personal trips. If it was up to him he would have donated the money without all the fan-fair and media attention, but he had to give face time to his sponsors.

She looked out the large windows at the gray skyline. It was raining again. Ugh! She hated the rain and she missed the sun. She was cold, tired and irritable, even Val had said so, although in not so many words.

She looked back at Michael. His hair that was usually tied back was laying long and loose on his shoulders. He was wearing a pair of his regular black trousers and a gray button down dress shirt with faded blue and pink stripes. It looked almost casual for a press conference but he made it look good.
She reached out and ran her fingers along his sleeved arm, “you look nice.”
Michael leaned forward giving her a quick chaste kiss, “thank you. Now get that cute little butt of yours outta bed and get ready. We’re leaving in 30 minutes.”
“Yes, sir,” she smiled, feeling better already.

Pulling herself out of bed, Allison made the short trip to the master bath. Inside she closed the door behind her and reached across the large glassed in shower to turn the water on to let it warm up. Her skin came alive with goose bumps in the cool room as she disrobed. Climbing into the shower she let out a delighted sigh as the hot streams of water warmed her skin as she reached for the moisturizing shampoo that smelled liked vanilla and honey. It smelled delicious. She was loving the smell and how it made her hair feel. She was definitely going to ask at the front desk the brand of where she could purchase it, not that she could afford it. After she rinsed her hair of the shampoo, Allison applied conditioner and lathered and up the minty smelling body bar over her wet skin.
She moved back under the spray to rinse off the soap, tilting her head back to rinse the conditioner from her hair as well. The pulsating drops of waters massaged her skull and soothed her. As the last remnants of conditioner rinsed out of her hair she opened her eyes to look around the master bath. It was beautiful but excessively grotesque at the same time. The suite actually offered "his and hers" bathrooms off the master bedroom. "His" featured an antique barber chair perfect for a gentleman’s shave while "hers" was highlighted by and an oversized marble soaker tub set off with gold silk drapes and Grecian columns. She smiled remembering their quasi adventure in the tub last night almost drowning giggling and laughing from the awkward positioning.

They had arrived in New York three days ago after Michael had kicked off his tour in Kansas City. Now they would be in New York for the better part of two weeks. First and foremost they were there for Michael's 3 sell out nights at Madison Square Garden, the first of which was for charity. He had the Pepsi conference today and tomorrow he would be performing at the 30th annual Grammy Awards. She has seen the rehearsals and it was pretty amazing what he was planning on doing. He would be performing a shortened version of his single “The Way You Make Me Feel” and then he would be singing “Man in the Mirror” accompanied by a full choir. She couldn't wait to be there to see it. It would be Michael's his first televised performance in almost 5 years, since the Motown Anniversary Special in 1983. He was really excited to be performing too. He had really taken the time to create something very special for the performance. And he was also nominated for 4 awards. She felt like it would be a great night for him, knowing the performer in him wanted to do well.

Turning off the water, Allison stepped out of the shower, wrapped her hair in a towel and ran another quickly over her body to dry off. She applied some light make up and walked back into the bedroom to pick an outfit for the day. She had learned her lesson from the first part of the tour. If she was going to be in the company of Michael Jackson for more than just taking pictures, she wanted to look nice, not just for herself, but for him too, well mostly for him. Especially after he admitted he liked seeing her dressed up in dresses and skirts. But of course he then added he liked her just as much in her little jean shorts too. It was not that she never dressed up; it was just there was never a call for Jimmy Choo shoes or Gucci accessories on a regular basis. Today she decided go a little less dressy but something in between, casual but classic. She went with a pair of black fitted wool slacks and a simple white silk blouse with smart low cut lace up boots. It was something she would wear if she was out doing pictures for a high profile wedding, needing to look nice but be able to manoeuvre around to take pictures.

Satisfied with her outfit she removed the towel for her head and returned to the bathroom to fix her hair. As she started to comb it out she heard Michael call out to her.
"In here Michael, I am in the bathroom... almost ready."
She caught his movements out the side of her eye, as he leaned his body against the doorway to watch her, smiling.
Her eyes met his in the mirror, "Michael?"
"Mhmm?"
"What are you smiling at?"
"Nothing."
"Uh-huh, right."
His smile grew wider as he raised his hands in mock surrender, "I'm being honest."
Her eyes narrowed as she watched him as she pulled her hair back in a loose ponytail, "you look like the Cheshire Cat. You are up to something."
He chuckled, "girl you are so suspicious."
She turned and stepped towards him, "I am not suspicious. I just know YOU are up to something."
"Come on," he took her hand to lead her out of the bathroom and out of the bedroom.

He didn’t say a thing to her as they made their way out to the main area of the suite. In complete silence he watched her sort through her equipment and recount her items to ensure she had everything she needed.
"Okay, I think we are all set." she turned towards him.
Michael returned her gaze, his smiling eyes twinkling but wary. "I want to ask you something."
"Ah ha... I knew it." She knew he had been thinking of something when he came to find her in the bathroom.
She crossed her arms instinctively in front of her, "what is it Michael?"
"It's nothing bad. It's good... real good. Well I think it's good." He actually sounded nervous or was it excitement, she couldn't tell. Whatever it was he was pacing in a small area almost bouncing on his toes.
"I thought we had to go, you said -"
"Iwantewetomeother," he interrupted speaking so quickly she didn't understand him.
Allison laughed, "what?"
Michael took a deep breath. He was a little nervous, but mostly he was really excited. He was head over heels for this girl and if could he wanted to shout it out to the world and let everyone know how he felt. He spoke slowly, annunciating his words, so there was no mistake what he was trying to say, "I want you to meet mother."
Allison gulped hard and took a step back from him, "who’s mother?"
Michael rolled his eyes, “who’s mother?” He shook his head. “Who’s do you think? My mother.”
In that very moment, Allison’s heart literally stopped beating. She had no pulse... and no feeling, no feeling but white fear. His mother, the mother of the Jackson Five, THE mother of Michael Jackson. Holy Crap!
Her eyes met his then scanned the wall behind him, "Michael, I have already met your mother," she met his eyes again, trying to calm down and sound relaxed. "Remember... in Japan."
"Yeah, I remember, you met her at the opening party."
She nodded, "yes. She was very nice." She cleared her throat, “so umm, there really is no need to set up a special meeting.”
“I want to tell mother we're seeing each other.”
“WWWWHAT!?!”
He smiled, “you heard me Ally.”
“Uh Michael is that a good idea? I mean what if -”
“Well didn’t you want to tell your parents?”
She swallowed, “yeah, but that was different.”
“How was that different?”
“It just was.”
He crossed his arms in front of his chest, “how Ally?” He wanted her to explain that to him.
Allison searched her mind. It was different... it just was. Why couldn't he see that... it was... wasn’t it? I mean she was dating Michael Jackson and going away with him, she had to tell someone... because... because she wanted them to know... and besides it was Michael FREAKING Jackson. CRAP she made no sense anymore not even to herself.
She smiled weakly, “I don’t’ know why,” she admitted. “I guess I just thought it was.”
Michael sighed.
“I’m sorry Michael. It’s just that you surprised me and you know I am no good with surprises.”
"First you need to stop being afraid and second I want to do the same things you do. Do you understand?"
She nodded slowly, “yes, in a way. But I thought you wanted to keep us quiet? Didn't you say that? I don't understand that part.”
"I still do, but this is different," he walked over to where she was standing. "I want my mother to meet the woman I love... my girl," he moved to rub his hands down her arms to take her hands in his.
His warm brown eyes melted her, but she could still feel the lump forming in her throat. "Oh god, are you gonna tell her that?"
"No, not exactly that, I just want her to get to know you better."
"Well what if she doesn’t like me?"
"She'll like you."
"But maybe she won’t."
"She will."
"Okay... umm, but what if she what if sh.. umm, or I say something stupid or if...”
“Ally?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re doing it again.”
“I know. I’m sorry, I am nervous.”
Michael chuckled, “I couldn’t tell. Don’t worry, mother will love you”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I love you,” he leaned in to brush his lips against hers. “She will see how happy you make me and that will make her happy.”
She nodded leaning her forehead against his chin, “okay... then, I hope you’re right.
“I am, trust me.”

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The press conference didn't last too long. All the build up for it all and the drive to the club took longer than the press conference itself and it was only a couple of miles away. On the ride there, Michael explained to her that he usually didn’t want the press reporting on his charity work.
“Those acts speak for themselves,” he told her as they sat in the back of the black van. “I don’t need affirmation that what I am doing is good. When it feels right in my heart that is all I need to know.” He stopped to take a breath, “or when you can make a person smile when the never thought they could never smile again... that for me is all the confirmation I need.
“That is lovely Michael,” although she didn’t actually agree with him on this. In the short time they had spent together, she had witnessed many acts of kindness on Michael’s part that no one, not one single journalist, bothered to report on or make mention of in the local papers. It was a shame that all his good deeds went unnoticed or that were kept so understated. But that was Michael and she couldn’t fault him for it, she only loved him for it. And the publishers, they didn’t seem to want to waste ink on feel good stories when sensationalism sold more papers and magazines.

When they reached the back entrance of Club 10-18 they went their separate ways. Michel hurrying through a set of doors guarded by two of the biggest men she had ever seen and Allison, with press credentials in hand, going in through the press entrance. It was packed with press from all over the world and a live satellite hook up. Pepsi was obviously taking full advantage of having Michael as their spokesman. She made her way to the front area just in time to hear a bit of an introduction from the Pepsi sponsor and then they showed the 4 new commercials they had filmed. Which was essentially Michael's introduction.

Michael came out and spoke all of 15 words and stepped away from the microphone. Allison almost laughed out loud at how humble and shy he appeared to be up on stage. It was such a extreme contrast to when he was on stage or alone with her. She continued to click pictures and he looked off to his left directly at her.

Then he presented the "check" for the $600 grand to Christopher Edley, the UNCF President. The press event also featured 3 winners of the write-in Be Against Drugs (BAD) anti-drug contest. The children got to read their dreams and wishes for Michael as he stood behind them. They also won tickets to his concert. All in all Michael was on stage for less than 15 minutes and he was ready to get out of there.

After the press conference they drove over to Radio City Music Hall, where the Grammy's were going to be held the following night. He said he wanted to run through one last quick sound check with the engineers and make sure he would be getting his "live" microphone at the right moment of the performance.
"Everything has to be planned to happen at the perfect moment," he told her. "You can expect it to just happen, it has to be planned right down to the perfect step, the camera angle and where you will be when it happens."
He continued on by telling her when he did the Motown 25th anniversary special, everything had been planned. “That’s how you make magic.”
Well she couldn’t agree more, he certainly knew how to make magic.

After the "quick" sound check, which took almost 3 hours, they finally returned to the suite to discover a special delivery had been made for Michael. It was from Lisa Robinson, the woman who had interviewed him at the hotel his opening night in Kansas City.
Allison went to sit down on the sofa as Michael opened the large cardboard box. He immediately stared to laugh. As it turned out, on the night of the interview Michael had told her he had recognized the smell of her perfume and that had shocked her. In her response she had a whole case sent over to him.
Allison walked over to peer in the box, “what’s the perfume?”
“Jungle Gardenia.”
“What? Noooo way!”
“Why... what?”
“That’s what my grandmother use to wear!”
Michael started to chuckle, “really?”
“Yeah.... she used to call it her old lady perfume.”
Michael’s chuckle immediately turned into a giggle and then his laughter came bursting out, “that's what Lisa said. She said it was an old drag-queen perfume from the ‘50s.”
Allison laughed, “oh my god... that is funny.”
“Yeah... she said I wasn’t as la-la as they say I am.”
"What? Who's says you were la-la?"
"I dunno, but it's funny...la-la … hahahaha!!!”
"You're silly," she smiled at his humour. "Gosh I haven't smelled it in ages, let's open a bottle."
Michael pulled out a box and handed it to her. "Wow I can't believe she sent you over a whole box of this!"
"Yeah, me either," he sat down on the sofa to read the card enclosed. "I told her I knew that smell, but don't think I want a whole box of it."
"But it is a nice scent" she added remembering the smell of her childhood.
She pulled the glass bottle out of the box and raised the bottle above her head and gave the top several good healthy pumps sending the sweet spray into the air.
Allison closed her eyes and walked in under the falling mist to let it fall in around her as she twirled around twice.
With her eyes still closed she inhaled deeply and a satisfied content smile came across her face, "hmm, just like I remember." It was sweet and had a flora citrusy scent but spicy at the same time. If Allison had to describe it she would say it smelled warm.
She opened her eyes to see Michael's eyes on her, watching her.
"What.. I look silly?"
"You look beautiful doing that."
She could not suppress her smile, "oh."
He reached out, grabbed her hand, and tugged her firmly towards him, "c'mere Ally."
She laughed as she fell in beside him on the sofa, "Michael!" she giggled.
He leaned her back against the soft fabric of the sofa, pulling her legs up beneath him as he moved to be on top of her. Allison closed her eyes as he began kissing across the base of her neck. As he ran his warm tongue across her smooth skin, she wrinkled her nose and said, "You know, my body’s gonna taste like the perfume now."
Michael pulled back from her licking his lips, his warm brown eyes fixing on hers making her breath hitch at the intense look of desire. Propping himself up on one side, he moved his free hand up along her side, passed her waist to caresses the outer contour of her breast. Allison arched her body into his and she could feel his desire at the apex of her thighs. She inhaled harshly whispering his name. Looking away, he started to slowly unbuttoned her blouse to expose her lace covered breast. A surge of arousal coursed through her body as he ran the tip of his tongue along the lace edge of her bra. She moaned at the contact, and he pulled back. "Mhmmm, do you want me to stop?" he asked nonchalantly. Allison gulped to catch her breath and quickly shook her head, and Michael licked his lips and lowered his mouth back down to her.

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Grammy Night - March 2nd 1988

Allison awoke with Michael singing sweetly in her ear. She wasn't sure of the exact song or if she had even heard it before. Not because she couldn't hear him, but because of the way his fingers were slowly stroking over her skin and kissing her in between the words. She didn't even remember how they made it from the sofa to the bedroom. Her only distinct memory was of Michael's ardent caress and kisses, the heat between them escalating and igniting her desire. And she remembered telling him how much she loved him. Somewhere in between they lost their clothes and made their way to bed where he took her to heaven and back.
"Mmmmmoring," she sighed her hand covering his on her stomach.
He tracked light kisses along the back of her shoulder towards her neck, "good morning, did I wake you?"
"Yeah, kinda."
Michael chuckled. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself."
She smiled inwardly. He could wake he up like this in the middle of the night, every night for the rest of her life and she would be floating on cloud nine and here he was apologizing.
"Michael, I like waking up to you singing to me. Actually I like waking up next to you."
"Hmm, good." He squeezed her tight, "I like it too."

They stayed in bed for about another hour, talking quietly about his upcoming performance at the Grammy's. Michael told her that the 4 new Pepsi commercials were going to be premiered on TV tonight, two before his performance and then two directly after. He also reminded her about meeting his mother. Mrs. Jackson and the entire Jackson family would be in attendance at his 3 sold out shows at Madison Square Garden. She hadn't forgotten, but she was hoping he had.

After showering together Allison took the time to dry out her hair out and Michael asked her what she wanted for breakfast.
"Ummm tea and a bagel... no umm fruit and yogurt, no wait a muffin please."
While Michael got dressed and ordered room service she tackled her stubborn waves. After long while her hair was finally dried through. She would be spending part of the day with Val, who could help her finish it off. She pulled on leggings and a loose sweater and went to meet Michael in the dining room.

The food had already arrived and Michael was eating a piece of toast and reading something. He was always reading. The table looked full with more food than two people could eat.
"Hmm, what did you get?"
Michael looked up from his paper and chuckled, "everything you asked for. I ordered some eggs too in case you wanted something else."
"Ha-ha, you think you are so funny," sitting down she moved to take the silver dome off the plate. "I will have you know that I...uh...oh.."
Michael looked up to what had left her speechless, "What's wrong. Ally, what's wrong?"
All of a sudden she was white as a ghost. She could hear Michael talking to her, but she couldn't speak for fear of being sick. She jumped up from her seat, her hand pressed against her mouth, as she barely made it to the bathroom across the hall before she was sick.
"Oh god..." she knew she was getting sick, but she had no idea she was getting this sick. It must be the flu. It was the smell of the eggs that had gotten her. She felt fine, just a little tired, but as soon as she smelled them the nausea swelled and was overwhelming.

"Hey. Are you okay," Michael said quietly behind her. "Here, take this." He placed a damp cloth on her forehead.
Oh god.. how embarrassing...
"I'm sorry Michael, I don' know... I felt fine..."
"Shh, don't worry girl."
She sat back down on her heels, keeping the cloth against her forehead, the wave of nausea seemingly gone as quickly as it had come.
"Are you feeling better?"
"A little, thank you," she nodded, still too embarrassed to look at him.
"You scared me there Allison. I didn't know what was wrong. You just turned so pale."
She swallowed and finally met his worried eyes. "Sorry, I think I am getting the flu.”
"You have seemed a little tired."
"Yeah, I am."
"Well then I want you to rest okay? Stay here for the day and the night. I don't want you out if you’re feeling sick."
“But I feel a bit better now.”
“No, I still think you should rest,” Michael reached for her arm. “Come on, let’s get you out of here and back to bed.”

Michael purposely walked her around the other way to the bedroom so they would not pass by the table of food. She had given him a terrible fright. She looked as if she was about to pass out. But she did feel better. It was just the smell. She had never been a big fan of eggs. And now moving around all over and getting the flu, it was no wonder she was sick. Maybe Michael was right, she just need to rest up. It would be best just to take it easy, but she wanted to go to the Grammy's tonight.

Michael led her to the bed and went to the bathroom to get her a glass of water and another cloth.
He placed the water on the night stand, "I don't want to leave you here alone, I will call Mary and she can come and stay with you."
“Michael, I won't be alone. Valerie is here, remember. We were gonna spend most of the day together anyway.”
"Did you want me to get her now?"
“No I think I am okay. I think I will just rest for a bit"
“Are you sure?” The worry was written all over his face.
“Yes, I am fine, I swear.”
“Okay,” Michael looked at the clock. “Shoot, I have to get going. Are you…”
“Go silly, I am fine,” she assured him
He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead, “Okay, so I’ll see you in a little bit. If you need anything get Mary -”
"I won't Michael," she answered.
"Okay."
He turned to leave and was almost out of the room when she called out to him, “Michael?”
“Mhm?”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, just rest up,” and then he smiled and left the room.

She lay with her eyes close for a short while until she heard Michael leave. She made a quick call to Val and asked her to meet her up at the suite. Allison had no intentions lying in bed all day. She was hoping she would be okay to go shopping and if that worked out maybe to the Grammy's. After speaking to Valerie, she went back out to the dining area to see almost everything had been cleaned up, but the carafe of tea was still there.
Well warm is better than nothing.
While Allison got her tea, Val hurried up to the top floor to see her. She knew something was off but she could not put her finger on it and she was sick. She was glad she was here so she could set her straight. She needed to take better care of herself.

Allison went to the bathroom to freshen up. She glanced in the mirror and was surprised at how tired she looked. She applied a bit to foundation and applied some blush to give her some colour. She combed out her hair and pulled it back again. Then she grabbed her toiletry bag to hopefully find some Dramamine to settle her stomach. The bag was full of the usually girly stuff that every girl carried and every little thing Allison would carry. She turned bag over spilling its contents onto the counter and some on to the floor. She spotted the little tube of anti-nausea medication and took one right away. She put everything back in the bag, but as she zipped the bag closed, something just didn't seem right.... something was just off.... wait a minute

She opened the bag again and pulled out the birth control package she had just put back in.
When did I put these in here?
She looked at the pills... five pills left, next one on Monday, period start Sunday... What? That makes no sense.
Allison gazed at her reflection as if it had the answer for her.

Five pills, five pills... five.... but I just started... and today is... oh my god...

Allison ran from the bathroom to the bedroom to find her purse on the chair beside the bed. She fell to her knees and tore the purse open turning it upside down to dump everything on floor... oh god... oh god please... please... her hands were shaking as she ran them through the scattered contents on the floor.... please no, please noo... but there underneath her wallet was what she was dreading to find. She slumped down and grabbed the packet of birth control pills and looked at the front of the packet... 3 pills gone, next one Thursday.
She felt her stomach constrict hard... and then unclench and quiver. She rocked back and forth as her breathing became shallow finding it hard to breathe.
"Uh..oh no, no, no no... this can't be..." how did this happen? She was always so careful.
She closed her eyes trying to steady her breath... think Ally think...
With the last bit of dwindling hope she grabbed her calendar booklet from the pile on the floor... flipping to last month she counted from the last red S on her date book... February 21st... No! That can't be right.
She went back a month earlier in December and counted again... to her last start date and her next one... February 21st.
"Oh god no," she whispered.
Dropping the booklet on the floor Allison covered her face with her hands as if she could shield herself the reality of what she just discovered.
She was more than a week late... almost two.

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credits this chapter:
http://changetheworldchildren.tumblr.com