She Said What?

"Come on Justin, tell us the truth. McKayla, at times she can work your nerves huh? She can be a little bitchy, can't she?"

"I'm not going there with you man."

"It's not anything bad. There's nothing wrong with it. My wife can be a major bitch sometimes, most times in fact," the DJ confessed.

The other morning talkshow host at the table next to him began to laugh.

"Justin, we're just establishing common ground here."

Timberlake's eyes rolled, "Calling my wife a bitch is not going to establish common ground between you and me-."

"You're seriously having problems with this. You should see his face, he's really offended that you would imply that McKayla was a bitch," the other DJ piped up, keeping the controversial conversation ball rolling.

"Why Justin? Why is it so difficult to say that about McKayla, you're wife of.... what is it, five or six years?"

"Seven years," he clicked his tongue with annoyance.

"So you're together seven year mark, your son's almost three, she's knocked up and ready to pop again any day now. Why is it hard for you to give up alittle honesty?"

"That's not honesty."

"Come on, you know it's honest. You just don't want to share. Why not? Is it an ethics thing? Or are you whipped?"

"Because she's my wife."

"Well we know that, but what about that is causing such problems for you?"

Justin gave the DJ an annoyed glance before pinching the bridge of his nose, "Because I love her. Because I respect her. Because I stood before God and promised to honor, protect, and cherish her forever. Calling her a bitch isn't going to display any of that. It's rude and disrespectful-."

"Now you two have been on the brink of divorce more than once already."

"Yeah and that's our buisness, that's between us. But regardless of how we are as a couple, she's still the woman who gave birth to my son. She's the woman who's about to have my second kid. Men who have the nerve to disrespect, or put hands on, the woman who gave them babies, aren't good enough for the woman or the kids."

"But this between us Justin. It's not like you're going on Oprah-."

"You think I somehow missed this big ass red microphone you put in my face? How is this between us? It's national radio."

______________________________________

"So you just went on his word? You didn't listen to what she had to say at all? Didn't call her?" The female DJ was staring at McKayla like she had betrayed all female kind.

"Why would I even think to entertain her claims? Why give her the satisfaction?"

"I would have atleast called her to see what she had to say. If a woman claimed she was screwin' my husband."

"It's not worth it."

"So you took your husbands word? You're standing by your man."

"But she said she had sex with him McKayla," the trustee DJ sidekick jumped in.

"She didn't say when they'd supposedly had sex, she just said that they did. They dated for two years before he met me. Ofcourse they'd had sex."

"So that to you means it wasn't a recent thing?"

"No, my husband telling me the truth makes me think it's not a recent thing."

________________________________________

"So who was the best lay you've ever had?"

"What?"

"McKayla? How is she in bed? Is she better than that actresss you were with before? I remember that music video she put out a couple years ago, before she got pregnant the first time...."

"She's none of your buisness, that's how she is," Justin grumbled.

"...That was some hot stuff, her against the wall in her bra. She's got a nice rack going on...."

"Nice tits, very nice," the other DJ chimmed in again. Justin was beginning to wonder if this was a pop station morning show, or Howard Stern.

"...Good job, Justin. Good job on that one."

"I didn't marry her for her breasts man."

"Oh come on. That's like me sayin I didn't marry my wife so I could smack her ass everday." It was a shock this asshole still had a wife with the way he was talking about her.

"I feel sorry for her," Justin stabbed back.

"So do I," he admitted, "So tell me about McKayla. What's she like, what does she do? Any special tricks, special outifts?"

"You know McKayla seems kinda freaky. That booty poppin' thing she was doing at the VMA's."

"That was sexy. She could work on her booty a little more, maybe look into some surgery or something. She ain't got no J.Lo Beyonce Trina ass, but it was sexy. Justin, give us the details man, you're being quiet. McKayla's ass, you must like it, you married it. Tell me, does she let you get up in that?"

His jaw dropped to the floor.

"Oh let me guess, she didn't right? That's why you cheated, huh?"

Justin removed the headphones, stood up, and left the room.

_______________________________________

For the past month Justin and McKayla had been on a nation wide media blitz trying to undo some of the damage that had been done to their reputations and careers. Claire Marie, in a last ditch effort to save her dying movie career, had "claimed" in an article to Elle magazine that she had had an affair with Justin, causing their first seperation a year after they were married. She even included pictures of she and Justin together to try to prove her story. Ofcourse the press was all over it. The timing she meantioned did match up with the dates of their seperation, and the knowledge of Justin and Claire's prior relationship didn't help either. McKayla had been livid. Justin had to stay with Trace and Shannon for two days before he was able to convince her otherwise.

The closest Justin had ever come to cheating on McKayla was kissing the blonde at the bar just before he found out McKayla was pregnant with Dorian. But Claire Marie? He'd left her to fend for herself in Australia while he flew back to the states to be with McKayla. Mike backing up that little tid bit was what got McKayla to let him come home. After a couple days of deep thought, McKayla realized that Justin had always been open with her. He confessed the truth about the girl at the bar, and had been the first to speak of the emotional connection between them. She felt secure in the fact that if something had happened between he and Claire Marie, that she would have known about it by now. The fact that he was repeatedly and loudly saying nothing happened, meant that nothing happened.

"Well if you weren't off tryna get back with her, and listening to Trace...." McKayla would always said.

"Me? I was on your side! How did I end up in this?" Trace would always ask.

Justin would just nod in agreement. Arguing with her would only further put him in the doghouse. Although he hadn't had any physcial contact with Claire Marie, he did have to confess to McKayla that they'd had conversations about repaired their relationship once the divorce they'd planned was complete. Ofcourse, McKayla knew that already, but she wasn't going to miss a chance to torture Justin if she could. So he spent a half a night on the sofa alone before she came to climb in next to him.

________________________________________________

Justin laid in bed in the dark, one arm behind his head, and the other trapped somewhere under a snoring McKayla. His head was spinning a hundred miles an hour. Claire Marie had created a mess for everyone involved with he and McKayla. In this buisness, when your mistakes are considered public knowledge, people use them to judge you in other aspects of your life as well. Some producers had threatened to call off production with him because they no longer felt he was an honest, trust-worthy buisness partner. McKayla's work to become a strong, survivoring rolemodel for women was undone and the tabloids had called her the insecure weakling who stayed while her husband screwed other women under her nose.

It was hard for him to comprehend it all. He had loved Claire Marie. He had cared for her more than life for more than two years. Up until their breakup, he never ever would have thought she had an evil bone in her body. He never would have thought that she'd be someone who would do something to hurt him. He knew she could be alittle spiteful, by her dislike of McKayla without actually knowing her whatsoever. He even knew that she was a little peeved when he suddenly stopped taking her phonecalls and wound up in New York on New Years Day.

But he never pictured her being the psycho ex-girlfriend who sold her fictional story and personal photographs to get her 15 minutes of fame. The thoughts of letting anyone in on private moments they'd shared had never crossed his mind. But she let them out. Deep, personal details of their late night conversations and days in bed together. The public knew details of him that they never needed to know. That fact cut him to the core, because there was a time where he trusted her with his life, and now that was all out the window. So, who the hell was he supposed to trust? How was he supposed to open himself up anyone?

A thud down the hall pulled his attention from the beams in the ceiling. He lifted his head, towards his open bedroom door and saw it come waltzing in. A few moments later he felt the covers on the bed being tugged downwards.

He sat up slowly, gently pulling his arm out from under McKayla without disturbing her. This he leaned over and picked up the intrudor and headed out of the room. He walked down stairs and over to the record player, pulling out his Jackson 5 mix CD and inserting it into the CD player.

"How do you feel about 'I'll Be There'? Sound good?"

He recieved a smile in return.

"Good."

Justin pressed play on the CD player and moved to the middle of the family room, away from the furniture and any toys that might get in his way. As little Michael's voice started to softly filter in through the speakers, Justin began to move in a slow circle, craddling his son to his chest. This had become his nightly activity with Dorian. The little boy would awaken for whatever reason in the night, and come in search of Daddy. At first Justin would put him back in the bed he'd climbed out of, but more often than not Dorian would spend the next hour crying himself back to sleep. Finally, one night, an exhausted Justin got the idea that music would calm him down, and now here he was. Three or four nights a week, between one and three a.m., Justin stood in the family room holding Dorian. The little boy would suck his thumb, and cuddle up to Justin's shoulder, and slowly slip back into a peaceful slumber.

In the beginning Justin would stress over what to play exactly. Should it be one of those dumb Kid's Bop CD's the guys were always sending over? Or maybe it should be something with a message, something he can have when he gets older? But there weren't too many songs for fathers to play to their sons. Some for fathers to daughters, lots about one lover to another, and a dozen son to mother songs, a mother to son or two, and maybe one daughther to father, but no father to son. He'd have to write his own, one day. Then one night when listening to the radio, he discovered his boy had a fondness for the Jackson 5. Except ABC, he had shown great distaste for that song. So Justin burned a 'Dorian only' mix CD for him, all slow songs to make him drowsy. Apparently it was working, because already Dorian was sucking his thumb and cuddling up, his eyes looking alittle heavy.

The last notes of 'I'll Be There' started to fade and 'Never Can Say Goodbye' began. Justin turned to his left when a familiar voice started to sing the words.

"And all these nights I've been thinking you're down here singing to yourself," McKayla smiled from the bottom of the stairs.

"You know me, I need an audience."

She made her way over to them, looking at her nearly passed-out little boy.

"Huh, and I thought he was a Lionel Richie kid."

"Just because you were doesn't mean he is. Boy's got style. He likes the classics."

"Lionel Richie is a classic."

"Not Jackson 5 classic," Justin gave her a look.

"Riiiight. We'll go with that answer, Randall. I think he's pretty much done for, want me to take him upstairs?"

"Nope. I think he'll chill out here for alittle while longer."

"Male bonding?"

"More like, family bonding," Justin put an arm around her waist and pulled her to his side.

Her 8-month pregnant belly caused her to turn herself to her side, but she was still able to snuggle up to him, her head occupying the other side of his chest that Dorian wasn't. Justin's embrace over her tightened, and his hand smoothed over the side of her belly. The doctor had already told them it was a girl, and he already knew what he was going to play for her, 'Brown Eyed Girl' by Van Morrison. McKayla's choclate brown orbs had overpowered his blue ones in Dorian, and he was sure the same would happen with his daughter. Hopefully she wouldn't be blessed with her fathers and brothers nappy curls though.

And as he stood there, his son in one arm and wife/unborn child in the other, he realized how ridiculous all the fretting he'd been laying upstairs doing was. Worrying about Claire Marie and how she could betray his trust. Ofcourse she'd betrayed his trust, that was why they broke up in the first place. And to be realistic, she was not longer a significant factor in his life any longer, and she hadn't been for awhile now. The people holding onto him now were. They were the ones who kept him sane, slightly, and his feet on the ground.

He was quoted by a magazine a months back saying he'd found the secret of life, his son.

"I finally understand that look that parents get when their kid does something cute, like paint them a picture. I understand how my Mama knew that I had riden my bike 2 miles out of town and fallen and hurt myself and that's why she was able to come pull up beside me in the ditch where I was laying a half hour later. That whole parents intuition thing. It's amazing, having this little person who looks like you and acts like you, and suddenly after so many months of waiting and all the morning sickness and gross stuff, there's this person you love more than you ever realized you could love someone. The secret of life is to experience that. To grow up and have life beyond your own and to raise it and watch it grow into an adult as well."

"So you feel like having Dorian overshadowed all the accomplishment you'd made in your career prior to him?" the reported probbed.

"Not... overshadowed isn't the word I'd put on it. My son is no doubt the greatest accomplishment of my life. When we have our new baby, they'll be the two best things I ever did in my life. They don't overshadow my career, or even the personal accomplishments that I made. Everything I've done is important to me, but one day all that shit'll fade. People barely remember Nsync anymore, and one day I'll be that old guy Justin ya know. I'll be in the back with my walker wearing a diaper and the kids watching MTV aren't gonna know shit about me and what I did, but my babies will. Long after my records stop spinning on the radio my son will be there. And his son. And his son. And his son after that."

Having Dorian had brought alot of clairty to Justin. Alot things that seemed important before, just weren't anymore. Having that certain pair of tennis shoes wasn't a big deal anymore, because Dorian wanted him to play cars with him. The world had to stop, until they were done. The partying and social events weren't so incredible anymore. He didn't have to be at them all, getting drunk or wasted with Trace or someone else. He was content at home watching Blue's Clues. But he couldn't really think about Dorian and the balancing out he'd done in his life without thinking about McKayla.

None of it would have been possible without her, for obvious reasons. He couldn't give birth to his own kid. But McKayla was alot more than just his son's Mother. She was his other half, his partner in life forever. She understood him and the crazy way his mind worked. She was tough on him, and she believed in him. She told him when he was just being insane, and she had his best interest at heart. Not to mention she'd put up with so much of his shit over the past years. Not that she'd exactly been a piece of pie the whole time. Let's face it, she wasn't always a lovely ray of sunshine. But through broken glasses and trashy tabliods, she was still around. She held him when he was in pain, and listened to his complaints.

It used to be that he could go out on the road for months and months at a time and he'd be fine. A call to his Mom everyday or so, a visit from friends here and there, but mostly he was okay. Now it was a completely different story. He'd happily agreed to McKayla's '48 Hour Seperation' suggestion because truthfully, that was about how long he could last. After that, he started to get a little fidgetty and scatter-brained, and lonesome. Most of the time he didn't know which one of them he missed more.

'Got To Be There' started and he chuckled to himself at the perfect timing.

"I hope you don't think singing to me is gonna get you some, buddy," came her groggy voice.

Justin smiled to himself, putting his cheek on the top of her head.

"You mean it's not working? It was the only trick I had left."

"You need tricks to get me into bed," she lifted her head, "That's not good."

"Well you cut me off three weeks ago, I'm getting despereate."

McKayla let out a snort with her laugh before making a face at him. Justin peered down at the little boy in his left arm before looking back at his wife in his right.

"I think he's ready for bed now."

"Now that he's left his trademark drool spot?"

"Exactly. Gotta leave the trademark, or the rituals not complete."

"I see, I see," McKayla took his hand and lead him toward the stairs as the chorus to 'Daddy's Home' played, "So next time you guys decide to get together for some late night bonding am I invited?"

"Am I gonna be invited to your girly bonding with Brown Eyed Girl?"

"Mmm, if you like Barbie's, sure."

Justin shook his head, "Mama, you're always invited."