Encino-M.J

A Kiss Of Death

 "It's so quiet in here, you could hear a pin drop,"

Kathrine stared at her family as they silently poked in their bowls of gazpacho. She was used to the men chattering about their day at the office and the wives and grandkids chiming in but tonight, no one seemed to have anything to say.

Althea had noticed the icy silence as well, especially in Michael. He'd greeted her sweetly and warmly when he'd arrived home but when he'd settled at the table, it was almost as if Michael had turned into a different person.

He kept his head in his bowl, not bothering to look at or speak to anyone. It was so unlike Michael. She knew something had to be wrong.

"Well, the soup's good," Tito nodded.

"I don't like it," T.J grimaced. "Something about cold soup turns me off,"

Kathrine chuckled as she broke a piece of bread.

"Doesn't anyone want to talk about something other than soup? she asked. "Michael, Jermaine you're always bouncing off ideas at the table. Why so quiet?"

Althea noticed her husband cut a glare at the aforementioned brother before meeting the eyes of his mother.

"I don't have anything to discuss with him, Mother," Michael replied slowly, hoping not to sound so sharp.

In the days following his outing with Althea, things had grown sour between the brothers. It was already bad enough that Jermaine was unrelentingly disparaging towards Michael's efforts in the family business but his disrespect of his wife had crossed the line. Jermaine could say whatever he wanted about Michael but as far as he was concerned, Althea was off-limits.

Michael couldn't understand why the strides he was taking to become an independent man were being met with such resistance.

"What about that deal you were planning to make?" Joseph asked while wiping the corner of his mouth. "How'd that go?"

"Successful," Michael responded. "We're just waiting for the papers to be signed,"

Althea smiled as she sipped her soup, thinking back to the triumphant moment for her husband.

Jermaine smirked up from his own bowl.

"You better hope she flakes on you. It'll be one less failure, little bro," He taunted.

The anger had been brewing deep inside of Michael like boiling hot lava and it was finally time to erupt.

"Leave me the hell alone, Jermaine!" Michael shouted the force of his fist slamming against the mahogany table sent the spoons clattering against the bowls. "Quit acting like you're concerned for me when you're not. You just want me to fail because you can't handle the possibility of me outshining you! If you can't be happy for me then stay the hell out of my business decisions and my marriage,"

A blanket of astonished silence draped the table and no one dared utter a word. Michael was always known for his sweet, soft-spoken nature but could have a dangerous temper when antagonized.

Althea placed a hand on her husband's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze of assurance.

The rest of the family ate in tense silence and things were painfully awkward for the rest of the night. No one, not even Michael himself, spoke in fear that he'd blow up again. It not only bothered Althea to know that Michael had been bottling his frustrations away from her but also angered her to know that Jermaine was the cause for them.

Her brother-in-law was far too comfortable messing with her and the man she loved and that was something that neither of them would tolerate for long.