Driving down the busy streets of Beverly Hills and all I could think about was how amazing this day has been. We just got all my wife's shopping out the way. We had an amazing lunch and alas the day was still not over. We still had to hit up one of the furniture stores because Shayla was dying for a new couch in the living room of the hideout. I think the black is fine, but she's set on beige. Beige is so plain. I don't get it, but I guess it's just not meant for me to get.
"Do you have to drive so fast?" Shayla asked me, dramatically holding onto the handle above her window.
"I'm not driving fast. I'm driving five over the speed limit," I looked over at her.
"You are... You're speeding and quite frankly, it's scaring me."
I laughed, "what you got to be scared about, girl? We'll be fine," I took her hand to my lips and kissed it. These past couple of years have been absolute heaven. My marriage has never been better. We've been traveling the world like there's no tomorrow. Shayla has come to each and every event of mine and we couldn't be any happier. She attended the Sammy Davis Special with me, she was there when I got the MTV Video Vanguard Award, she's been everywhere with me and I'm so glad that she was able to be there to share my achievements with me. Something, Frank would have never allowed, which I look back on in regret. I don't know how I let a short chubby man who made up for himself with being an egotistical rude person, tell me what to do and how I should do things with my wife. Now, thankfully, I am onto bigger and better things.
I hired Sandy Gallin and Jim Morrey as my managers, and they couldn't be anything less than what I expected them to be. They are true godsends. I just got off of the second leg of the Dangerous tour and the third leg won't be until August. That gives me enough time for a lot of things. Mostly, relaxing with my wife, but also continuing my good works around the world. I've got all these events coming up that I'm honestly excited for. I've got the inaugural ball coming up in a couple of weeks for President Clinton. I'll be the first big name artist for the half time show at the Super Bowl. I've got a couple of awards and then next month I have an interview to do with Oprah. I'm excited as I haven't done an interview in years. I don't know what she's going to ask me, but I trust that she'll ask me all the right questions so she and the rest of the world can see the person I really am instead of this eccentric freak they proclaim me to be. I trust her. I don't see her asking me anything out of the ordinary. She's black. I'm black. We're both successful. We know what it's like to have people throw stones at us or to make up false stories. I feel like she gets me, which is why I'm giving my first interview in fourteen years to her. She's a phenomenal journalist and I know she won't do me wrong in the slightest bit.
After that, I just get to relax. Finally. It's something I look forward to. I just want to relax at home with my wife. The Dangerous album did exceptional a couple of years back. I've come to the conclusion that I'm just never going to be able to top Thriller no matter how much I try. I'm okay with that. I'm my own competition and clearly, I'm at the top. No one else can beat that, not even me, so I've come to accept it.
"If this book does what I want it to do, I'll be going on a book tour pretty soon," Shayla smiled.
"Do you think you'll be able to make it to my events?" I wondered.
"Of course! I won't schedule my book tour with my publisher until after your events. I want to be there for your accomplishments, baby. You know I wouldn't mess your events for the world. I haven't missed one since Frank's reign was over."
"Good, because you know Sandy got you front row seats to just about everything."
"Sandy is a godsend. I love that man," she sighed happily.
"Uh uh. Quit all that. He's gay anyway."
"And? He's still the best manager you've ever had."
"You know you didn't mean it like that."
"Don't nobody want your manager, Michael," she sucked her teeth, rolling her eyes at me. "You just make sure to send him my kind regards."
"You know what? I think Sandy's front desk lady likes me."
Shayla shot me a look, "who?"
"Shana. Every time I call to talk to Sandy, we spark up a conversation, which is okay and all. I don't have a problem with it, but she always makes a concentrated effort to tell me she loves me."
"Sounds like someone has an admirer. Isn't she like twenty something?"
I shrugged, "I don't know. Probably. She's pretty, but you know I'm a married man, so," I laughed to myself, nudging at Shayla, "I'm going to start avoiding her before she becomes too enthralled or something. We don't need those problems."
"We sure don't, because I'll get her fired."
I sucked my teeth, "you can't fire someone else's employee."
"Just you watch. Sandy loves me. He'll do it," Shayla smirked. I shook my head at my wife. We've come so far as a couple. We've been through the good, the bad and I pray we never get to the ugly. We'll be coming up on our tenth anniversary this year in April. Ten magical years with this woman and I'm still as in love with her as I was when I first met her face to face. I'm so lucky to have a woman like her. I honestly don't know where I'd be. She's taught me true genuine love. She's made me a better man in every way a woman can. She's given me strength, hope, and understanding. The simple fact that she has managed to put up with me and my ways for ten whole years as much as I've put up with her is astonishing. This woman is my forever. I'll do anything for her, and she knows it. The fact that we've been together for ten years often has everyone wondering when we'll have children. We wonder the same thing at times. I'm ready and I know she's ready, but given our careers and schedules, it's still just not in the cards for us right now. Soon though. We're still very much so in our prime.
"One of these days, I want to see one of my novels turned into a feature-length film. I'm going to pick the actors that I feel best capture my characters and everything. Just you wait and see," Shayla said, pulling me out of my trance.
"Oh yeah? Which book?"
She shrugged, "I don't know yet. Maybe a future one. I'm not sure. I'm just so glad we have a little time before the next leg in your tour. I feel like I just want to sleep all day."
"You and me both! Babe, I'm beginning to think I'm ready for us to start our family."
"Me too... I think we should start soon too; don't you think? I'm ready to have some little Michael's and Shayla's running around the house," she smiled.
"Of course. We're both successful. Both financially stable. We have everything to provide for our children and then some."
Shayla laughed, "Daddy has been joking about if we even know how to make children at this point. He says there's only so much practice a person can do until they've mastered their craft."
I laughed, "coming from the same man who waited a whole twelve years after he got married to begin his own family. What's the rush with your parent's, babe?"
"They're entering their seventies. Now that Mariah is leaving for college, they're in full-fledged grandparent mode."
I shrugged, "makes sense. Do they harp on David about it as much as they do us?"
"Probably. He just got married and he's in his thirties. He's probably getting it worse than we are."
"Ain't no way he's getting it worse than us. We've been getting it since before our fifth anniversary and we were still pretty young then."
"You've got a point."
"They're probably just excited because you're their first daughter. That's all."
"Yeah, well, they're probably why we've waited this long in the first place with their nonstop peer pressure."
"Now, you've got a point. By the way, what college is Mariah thinking about?"
"Spelman. Quite frankly, I think it'll really suit her."
"You better hope she doesn't get caught up in that Freaknik stuff."
"Uh uh. Don't you go talking about that demonic mess again. You must want to go down there. I swear you find a way to fit it into our conversation every day," Shayla rolled her eyes at me.
I laughed, "I do not talk about it every day."
"Yes, you do. I bet if you had a good disguise, you'd catch the first flight out there."
"It's the culture, babe. There's nothing wrong with immersing yourself in culture."
"Yeah, if you call open booty everywhere culture, I guess."
"I'd love to see you down there shakin' that thang," I teased.
"Boy, please. I am too old for all of that. Get outta here," she laughed.
"Shoot, if I didn't know you, you'd be a firm twenty-five," I winked at her. Out of nowhere, the Jeep began to sputter. I held the steering wheel firmly as it slowed down. What is going on? I pulled off to the side safely out of the flow of traffic as the car continued to slow down, the steering wheel shaking causing the car to jerk uncontrollably. Once we got to a safe stop, I turned the car off.
"What happened?" Shayla asked me.
"I don't know..." I opened the door to get out of the car and lifted the car hood only to be greeted with black smoke. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me! I knew this was a cheap car!" What am I supposed to do now? I can't call Bill or have Shayla call Roland as they're both off for a while. I shook my head, walking back over to get my Motorola mobile phone.
"Who are you calling?" Shayla asked me.
"I'm about to call for help," I told her, but oddly enough I don't even know who I'm going to call. Who helps you with situations like this? I don't have these kinds of problems and if I do someone else will fix it for me. This is kind of an emergency. I can't just sit here out on the streets in Beverly Hills with a busted car. I'll call 911. They'll help. That's what they're here for anyway. Emergencies. I dialed the number, raking my fingers through my hair. Surely, they'll help. Or they'll send someone to help. That's where my tax dollars are going anyway. They better help.
"911. What is your emergency?" The operator answered.
"Yes, my car broke down on Wilshire Boulevard in Beverly Hills. Could you please send someone to help me?" I asked her. I waited for an immediate response only to be met with silence.
"Sir, we can't help you with your car... This is for emergencies only."
"Right, I'm stuck in Beverly Hills with a smoking car. That's an emergency."
"You're better off calling for a tow truck, not the emergency line."
"But you're an emergency line for emergencies. I don't see the issue here, ma'am."
"Sir, the issue is that we can't send you a police officer or anything because your car is broken down in Beverly Hills."
"But I'm Michael Jackson! Can't you help me?"
At that, she laughed, "Sir, even if you were Michael Jackson, I still can't offer you anything. You have to call a tow company not 911."
I sighed, "you've got to be kidding me," I hung up the phone.
"Who was that?" Shayla asked me.
"I called 911 and they said they couldn't even help us."
She looked at me and bust out laughing, "Michael, 911 can't help us with a busted Jeep. And the fact that you pulled the 'I'm Michael Jackson' card as if that would change anything. You know that only works for special occasions. This wasn't one of them. You play too much."
"You got any bright ideas? Call for a tow truck. That's what she said anyway. You do that and I'll try to figure out what's going on here," I got out the car, circling it to see if I could find anything wrong. Even if I did find anything wrong, I wouldn't know what to do. It's just my luck that my wife and I would be stuck in Beverly Hills out for the whole world to see with a busted car. For my sake, luckily no one even knows it's me. I want to call for Bill or someone, but I don't want to interrupt their break. I kicked the tire out of frustration. Everything was going so well today and now all of a sudden, this cheap car wants to go out on me. I'm never getting a Jeep again. This is what I get for letting Shayla choose the car. I'm better off with a convertible or something. I couldn't stand this heap of junk since it was parked in my driveway.
"Excuse me, sir. Are you alright?" I turned around to see a blond woman walking up to me.
I sighed, "no. My car just stopped out of nowhere. Now I'm stuck here with no way to get home." She eyed me from head to toe, taking an extra-long look at my loafers. If they don't tell her who I am, what else would? I knew I shouldn't have worn these shoes today.
"Michael...Jackson?" She finally looked up at me.
I tried my best to smile, but I'm still irritated about my car. I don't really care for this right now. I just want to go home, "yeah, um-"
"What a coincidence! My husband actually works for a car rental company. He could tow your car and everything!"
My eyes lit up, "really?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah! Let me call him! I'm sure he should be able to help you. Give me a second," she pulled out her mobile phone and went over to stand by a storefront to make a call. I went over to the passenger's side so Shayla could roll down her window.
"What's going on?" She asked me.
"That lady's husband works for a car rental company," I told her.
She sighed a breath of relief, "oh, thank god. I called 411 and they acted like they couldn't connect me with a local tow company."
"I'm sure they'll be able to tow the car and we'll be able to get it fixed. Honestly, I don't even care about this heap of junk. You know that."
"Oh, trust me, I know. You've hated it since we got it."
"I guess this gives me the opportunity to finally get rid of it," I shrugged, smiling at her. "No more cheap cars."
"I actually want a Toyota so..."
"No more cheap cars," I repeated.
"Look here, Toyotas may be cheap, but they'll last you a lifetime. We're getting a Toyota."
"I'll think about it. This only further proves why we can't get cheap cars, babe. No matter how good you think they look."
"Sure, sure. Blame it all on me as to why the Jeep broke down."
"No, no, no," I raised my hands in surrender. "I'm just saying you can't choose a car based on how it looks all the time. If it's crap, it's crap. That's all I'm saying," I shrugged.
"Mr. Jackson?" The blond woman called me over to her.
"Be right back, babe," I made my way over to the woman.
"My husband is on his way now. He'll be able to pick you up and take you to his store. And a tow truck will be coming with him too, so they can tow your car."
"Oh, thank you so much, Mrs...?"
"Green," she smiled, reaching out to shake my hand. "My name is Mrs. Green."
"Thank you so much, Mrs. Green. I don't know what I was going to do."
"You didn't know what you were going to do?" She asked me, eyes wide in shock as if just because I'm 'Michael Jackson' I didn't have normal people problems like these.
"My cars don't break down often. Especially when I'm out by myself."
"I'm sure it's rare when things like this happen to you," she stared past me at the car, squinting to see who was inside.
I looked back at Shayla who was talking on her mobile phone, "oh, that's my better half. Would you like to meet her?" I asked Mrs. Green.
She looked at me in confusion, "better half as in... wife?" I nodded. "Mr. Jackson, you're married? Who would have ever known that?"
I smiled and shrugged, "only the people who actually know about it. Is the whole world supposed to know?"
"Yes, I mean, no, I mean... She's okay being kept a secret?"
"No secrets. People know. I'd love to introduce you to her. She'd love to meet you since you've been so kind."
Mrs. Green was literally stuck. She didn't know what to do, "um, yeah, sure, sure," she nodded. "You know, Mr. Jackson, people have been saying you've been married for years. I can't believe the rumor is actually true."
"It's no secret. Literally, everyone knows. We've thought about announcing our marriage to the world, but so much has gotten in the way. Not just with me, but with her career as well. I mean, it's no more than four words, right? 'Michael Jackson is married.' We just want to be a normal couple. Normal couples don't announce to the whole world that they're married. They just tell everyone they know and who they see. We want to be a normal couple just like you and your husband."
"Excuse me, Mr. Jackson, but my husband and I aren't celebrities. Every other celebrity has announced their marriage one way or another. No disrespect to you and your wife."
"And how many celebrity marriages have lasted ten years with the media in their business every five seconds?"
She gasped, "ten years?!"
"Exactly. Us announcing our marriage to the world is like you telling your sister who's hated your relationship from the beginning about your marriage. We don't want any toxic influence," I went over to help Shayla out of the car. "I want you to meet Mrs. Green. She's kind of shook about our marriage."
"Oh, really?" Shayla asked as we walked back over to Mrs. Green. "Mrs. Green, thank you so so much! You have no idea what this means to us," Shayla smiled.
"Wow!" Mrs. Green looked my wife up and down in complete awe. "It's such a pleasure meeting you," she gawked, completely ignoring my wife's gratitude.
"Oh," Shayla looked between me and Mrs. Green unsure of what to say. "Thank you..."
"You're so welcome. Mr. Jackson was just telling me the secret to a long-lasting celebrity marriage."
"Oh yeah? And what's that?"
"You can't let the media get involved. I see why all those other celebrity marriages died out. You two just didn't announce it so that the media couldn't say what they wanted about your marriage. Despite the rumors. You still kept on. And by the looks of it, you're so radiant, happy and still in love with each other. I imagine the media only destroys something like that. Ten years and no one's heard a peep!"
"I mean... It's slipped out in the media a couple of times. I complained about it a lot when I was younger. We were supposed to announce it a long time ago. Like when his most recent album came out or something. I don't remember. Michael had a crappy manager in the beginning. Now he has a great manager who actually encourages the announcement. He's encouraged it since Michael signed with him, but I guess I'm too comfortable now. Ten years in. What's there to announce at this point? Michael says it's up to me anyway," Shayla smiled at me. "But I think I'm pretty comfortable in my marriage now. When we were younger, it bothered me in every way imaginable. Now? Damned if I do, damned if I don't," she shrugged.
"Like I asked Mr. Jackson, you're okay with being kept a secret?"
"Me? A secret?" Shayla laughed out loud. "I'm not a secret, Mrs. Green. People know. The media just doesn't know, and I don't even know how we managed to do that. My husband just told you, a woman he just met on Wilshire Boulevard out on the busy streets of Beverly Hills. People know. I guess we're just lucky we haven't accidentally told the wrong person yet."
"Well, when you put it like that, I guess you guys are just like any normal couple, huh? No media coverage just like the rest of us."
"Bingo," Shayla winked at her.
Mrs. Green looked past my wife and waved, "oh, there's my husband and the tow truck!" She waved her arms to get his attention. Shayla and I waited while Mr. Green pulled over to help us out. "He's going to be so excited to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson," Mrs. Green gushed as she went over to him to greet him.
"This isn't so bad after all," Shayla shrugged looking up at me.
"Being out here in broad daylight with a broken-down car. I figured someone would have recognized you by now."
"You and me both. You think I lost my magic?" I teased.
"You? Lose your magic? You just tried to pull the 'I'm Michael Jackson' card on 911. You know dang well you haven't lost your magic yet," Shayla laughed, rolling her eyes at me.
"Mr. and Mrs. Jackson, it is a pleasure to meet you all," Mr. Green came over to us, shaking my wife's hand and then mine.
"Thank you so much, Mr. Green. You have no idea how much this means to us. Being stranded out here like this is not what's up," Shayla laughed.
"I understand that. Look, I brought a couple of guys to tow your car to the shop. I can go ahead and take you to the shop right now so you can go ahead and get a rental car if you'd like," he suggested.
"That'd be great. The sooner we can get out of here the better, right, Michael?" Shayla asked me.
"For sure. Yeah. Ready to go when you are," I nodded.
"I'm going to go get my purse out the car really quick."
"Grab my mobile phone while you're at it," I told her as she went over to the car.
"So, the rumors are actually true," Mr. Green smiled at me.
"Which ones?" I asked him, knowing dang well I already knew what he was talking about.
"Your marriage! People have been speculating for years that you've been married. I guess it's something that you actually have to see in order to believe."
"My wife and I were just telling Mrs. Green that we tell everyone all the time. It's just the media we haven't told yet. We don't want our marriage covered by the media. They can talk about me all day long, but when it comes to my marriage, I don't play that."
"I understand that, brother," he nodded. It took everything in me not to laugh at the fact that he just called me "brother." Whatever floats his boat, I guess. "Your wife seems like the sweetest person in the world."
"She is. She's truly a godsend. If it weren't for her, I don't know where I'd be today."
"Wives just have that effect on their husbands, don't they?"
"Definitely," I nodded, watching Shayla come back over to us.
"Ready, guys?" She looked between us.
"Yep," Mr. Green nodded. "Come on, Shelly! We're about to go to the shop," he called after his wife as we walked over to his truck. "I'm going to call my boss to let him know we're on our way and to make sure it's a very comfortable environment for you guys once we get over there. You guys go on and get in and I'll be right back," he unlocked the truck for us to get in and pulled out his mobile phone.
"We're not renting a cheap car, Shayla. We're getting the best one they have to offer," I told Shayla.
"Um, excuse me. Who said I wanted a cheap car?" She shot me a look.
"You when you decided it was a good idea to get a Jeep because it looked good. Let me choose the rental car."
"A rental car that we're only going to have for one day at max? Suuure, Mr. Big Shot. Whatever you say," she teased.
"We're getting an SUV."
"Whatever you say, Mr. Jackson," she shrugged. I love my wife. As annoying as she can be and as annoying as she says I can be, I wouldn't have it any other way.
Mr. and Mrs. Green got in the car, "it's not too far actually, Mr. Jackson. I called my boss to let him know you were coming if that's okay. He's putting up the closed sign for a little bit so you can have some privacy."
"Oh, thank you," I nodded. That actually surprises me. I'm grateful for how kind this couple is. I honestly don't know what we would have done without their help.
The ride to the rental store was filled with much conversation. Mr. and Mrs. Green couldn't stop talking about how much of a shock it is that they had us in their car and that I was actually married. Some rumors are true, but most are not, and I had to remind them of that. They seemed so giddy about it that I was nervous they would actually tell the media themselves. But they look like good folks. If anything, they'd tell a couple of friends. I don't see any harm in it. Mr. Green escorted Shayla and me in the store and we waited while he went to get his boss.
"I can't wait to get home. We don't even have to go to the furniture store anymore," Shayla sighed.
"Well, we still have a little bit of running around to do. Then after that, we'll be able to go home," I assured her.
"I promise," I kissed her forehead as we stood in front of the front desk waiting.
"Mr. Jackson, this is my boss Dave, his wife June and her son Jordie," Mr. Green smiled as he introduced the family to us. I didn't expect a meet and greet, but at the same time, I guess I should have anticipated it. I looked the family over. Dave was all smiles. Jordie was incredibly excited to see me, he couldn't stop fidgeting. And June? June was a sight for sore eyes.
"Excuse me," Shayla cleared her throat, pinching me.
"Ow!" I rubbed my arm. "I'm sorry. Nice to meet you guys. This is the missus, Shayla-Elizabeth."
"Nice to meet you all," Shayla smiled, extending her hand out to shake each and every one of their hands.
"I have the perfect car for you and your wife, Mr. Jackson. Mel over there told me you don't do cheap cars. We have a nice Mercedes Benz 250 TD for you."
I gasped and looked over at Shayla, "you hear that, babe? They're offering me a quality car!"
"Michael, get the car and let's go," she rolled her eyes, causing everyone in the room to laugh.
"Do you want to look at it?" Dave asked me.
"I already know it's a good car. My cousin has one. I'll just sign off on it."
"You're not going to look at it first?" Shayla asked me.
"It's a Mercedes, babe. I don't have to look at it," I teased as I watched Dave pull out form after form after form for me to sign. "And your guys are able to tow it to my address?"
"Yes, sir. I'll make sure they do. How long will you be keeping the car?"
"Two days," I shrugged. "I'll have someone bring it back up here."
"Sounds good to me. That'll be seventy-nine dollars. Will that be cash or credit, Mr. Jackson?"
"Credit," I told him as I pulled my wallet out to get my credit card out, while simultaneously reading over the documents he was giving me.
"Michael, you can call Jordie sometime if you want," I looked up to see June sliding a piece of paper to me.
"Mom!" Jordie looked up at her in embarrassment.
"Jordie, it's okay. You guys can be friends. I don't mind," she told him. "He's a really big fan of you, Michael," she looked up at me.
"Oh," I looked at the paper and back at Shayla who was just as confused as I was.
"He really is a big fan, Mr. Jackson," Dave confirmed what his wife said. "He'd really like it if you could give him a call," he said before he went to the back of the store.
"Yeah... Okay..." I took the piece of paper June had given me and stuffed it in my pocket before signing the documents Dave had given me.
"You know, you're the first parent I've seen give my husband your number to contact your kid," Shayla noted.
"My son is just such a big fan of him. He wishes he could visit Neverland all the time. We've heard of all the amazing things you all do for children up there. It wouldn't be a problem would it, Mrs. Jackson?" June asked my wife.
"I think it's inappropriate to just give a grown man your number just so he can contact your kid... If my husband was anyone else, would you really give him your number?"
"I, um," June stammered. "It's just... Michael Jackson. This is a once in a lifetime experience."
I stopped Shayla before she could say anything else, "I got it, babe," I told her before I went over to Jordie and bent down to his level. "So, I'll call you Jordie, alright?" I looked in the boy's bright eyes.
He smiled, "sure! Oh my gosh!" He gushed as he looked up at his mom. I stood back up, giggling at his enthusiasm as I went back over to sign the papers. It's most definitely odd that June just felt it okay to give me her number to call Jordie, but it's whatever. I'll call him maybe once or twice. It's not that big a deal.
"All signed?" Dave asked me once he came back.
"Yep," I told him as he handed me the keys.
"It's all yours. I had Mel run it through the car wash really quick for you that way you have a sparkling clean car. I'm sure you don't have time to go over scratches or damages or anything like that. It's brand new, so we haven't had anything on it, so you should be pretty good unless you bring it back to me with a couple of scratches," he tried to crack a joke.
"Thank you, Dave. Thank you all very much. It's good to know there are still good people in the world like you all," I smiled as I took Shayla's hand in mine and escorted her to the car.
"A station wagon, Michael?" Shayla gasped. "You talk about me and my car choices, but you got a car only my dad would like."
"It's not a cheap car though, now is it?" I opened the passenger door for her.
"The Jeep looked better," she pursed her lips at me as she got in the car.
"See," I began as I got in the car, starting it up. "That's the problem. You're looking for cars that look good instead of quality, girl. This car is way better than that Jeep. We might just have to buy one of these for ourselves."
"You're kidding me, right?" she squinted her eyes at me.
"No. I'm dead serious," I said as I fixed the mirrors.
"You're the man, so hey," she shrugged. "What'd you think about June giving you her number like that to call Jordie? Did that seem odd to you?"
"But?" she asked me.
"No, buts. It was just odd. I didn't expect it."
"Right. If you weren't Michael Jackson, she would not have given you her a number so you could call her son. That's just weird to me. Who does that?"
"I don't know," I shrugged. "I'll call him a couple of times. Maybe invite him to the ranch one good time and that's it. I don't know what she expected out of her giving me their number."
"Right... That just rubs me the wrong way," Shayla looked out the window pondering the situation. She's right. It is weird that they just gave me their number for the sole purpose of calling their son. Sure, they may see me host things for children at the ranch, but that doesn't mean I have personal relationships with just anyone's children outside of my nieces, nephews and maybe a couple of child actors. That's it. I don't know. I won't think much of it. I'm just glad we're out of the middle of the street with a busted car. I've got too much to prepare for. There's no way I'm even going to have time to say "hello" to him. We'll see.