Chapter Four: Surrey
It's easy to judge what you don't understand
Fifteen Years Earlier: After the disappearance
"What is your relationship with Michonne Westbrook?" Dale Horvath asked, sitting down across from the young man.
"We are – were dating."
The detective flipped open his notebook, scribbling on the page before looking up expectantly. "And when was the last time you saw her?"
He paused, thinking for a moment. "Maybe about two weeks ago?"
Detective Horvath eyed the young man carefully, looking for any signs that he may be lying or hiding important information. This case was high profile and British Intelligence were already alerted an involved. "You seem a little unsure, Michael. And you're dating Ms. Westbrook, correct?"
"Yes, I believe that's what I just said. We went out a few times," Mike shrugged, rubbing his palms against his thighs. "She's a cool girl, but she's not my girlfriend or anything."
"Where were you on the night of the 27th?"
"I was out in London with friends," he answered immediately. "We were at a pub having a few pints."
"At that point, you hadn't seen or heard from Michonne in a few days, correct?"
He let out an exasperated sigh. "We just went out a few times. I didn't know that I was supposed to keep track of the girl because of a few dates She started blowing me off anyway. We haven't been on an actual date in over a month and a half. I think she lost interest and to be honest, so did I. I'm sorry to hear that she's missing though."
The man continued, ignoring the young man's response. "During your time together, did Michonne express any anxieties. Strange behavior? Did she talk about running away? Did she seem as if she were afraid of someone? Anybody new hanging around her?"
"Well," Mike said, stroking his chin as he met the investigators unblinking stare. "There was a guy."
The detective arched his eyebrow. "A guy?"
"Yes."
"What did this guy look like?"
"Other than him being white with dark hair, I really couldn't tell you. I never got a proper look at him. He was just there and then he wasn't. Strange bloke."
Present
Michonne stepped into the hallway outside her mother's bedroom and nearly collided with a small figure. "Hey," she said, grabbing the young boy and holding him steady in case he fell backward. "What are you up to?"
"Hey Mom," André said sheepishly, taking a small step back. "Is grandma in there?"
"Yes, but Grandma's sleeping. You will meet her later, okay?" The Westbrook matriarch had managed to exhaust herself with all the tears from built up guilt, anger and resentment.
"Wow, she sleeps more than Judith," the boy huffed, pulling at the edge of his shirt. "Is it true she doesn't like us," he whispered conspiratorially. "Is that why she's sleeping so much? Sometimes I pretend sleep when I want Carl and Colette to leave me alone."
"Sweetie," Michonne said gently, leaning down to meet her son's dark brown eyes. "Grandma is very sick. She has to sleep a lot because her energy is low. And what gives you the idea that she doesn't like us."
"Well, Carl said that's why we've never met her and she never calls," the painfully honest boy replied. "Plus we heard you and Dad, mostly Dad, yelling about her and coming here when we were back home."
She silently cursed her husband's lack of an angry inside voice. "It's more complicated than that okay? Your Grandmother loves you. In fact, she's very excited to see you, your brother and your sisters."
"Really?"
"Of course. She's your grandmother. You're her family," she said, putting an arm around the eleven-year old's shoulder as she guided him away from her mother's door. Like her brother Amare, André had always been a little small for his age. "For now, we'll let your grandmother rest and we'll go find your brother and sister."
"Dad's actually outside with Carl and Colette," he informed her. "Grandpa James is showing them the pond and of course Dad wanted to take pictures."
"You guys had lunch yet?"
He nodded his head animatedly. "Chef Morgan made lunch. I just finished eating." He snapped his finger as if he finally recalled something. "That's why I came to find you. Dad said you need to eat something."
"Of course he did."
As they entered the kitchen, Michonne grabbed a plate, taking a small helping of food. André sat down at one of the bar stools smiling up expectantly at her. "We should do something nice for Grandma, since she's sick."
"That's a great idea," she said as she sat down with him. "What did you have in mind?"
"Well since she doesn't really know us that well, maybe we could make her something to introduce ourselves to her," he mumbled. "We can show her who the Grimes are. Dad has a lot of cool videos and pictures. We can put something together like we did for your birthday."
She smiled at her son in admiration. "You're so smart. You should definitely talk to Carl and your Dad and get this going. Your grandmother would love that."
"Cool," he nodded. "Carl's still in a bad mood though. He wants to call Enid, but there's time difference and Dad says he's still technically grounded for fighting Ron."
"That he is."
"Mom?"
"Yes Andre."
"Are we staying in tomorrow too?" He was already getting antsy. He got that from his father.
"We might," she answered. "Aunty Sasha and your Uncle will be here with your cousins."
He nodded his head, staring down at the table. "She's going to die isn't she?"
"Die? Who –" She realized who he was referring too. She was unsure of how to answer especially since it was something she didn't particularly want to think about or face. She didn't want to lie to her son either. "She's very sick, but we don't know yet."
"I still don't understand why we never visited before. Isn't that what people are supposed to do with grandparents? Visit them and stuff?"
A small cry erupted from the baby monitor. "Looks like your sister is up," Michonne sighed, dropping her fork as she stood up. She was glad for Judith's timely distraction. She always tried her best to be honest with her children, but this wasn't something she was ready to discuss as yet. With the amount of guilt that consumed her, she needed more time.
André followed her upstairs where they found Judith, sitting upright and contentedly kicking her feet as she slobbered on her tiny fingers. "Hi Judy," André cooed as he brushed past his mother to stand over his youngest sister. He took her birth much better than he did when their six-year old Colette was born. After Colette was born he went through a phase of jealousy. He was so used to being the baby that he felt jilted by all the attention the loud needy baby was getting.
Judith gave her brother a bright smile, happily kicking her legs and waving as she giggled. "Your favorite brother is here." He tickled her little foot. "You like me better than Carl, don't you?"
"Day," she squeed in her attempt to say her brother's name. "Day. Day."
"Yes Judes," he said. "Dre is the bestest big brother."
"Car!"
"Well I guess he's alright too. But Dre really is the best," he cooed.
"Day bess."
"Oh my goodness!" André shot Michonne a look of excitement and surprise. "I think just agreed with me."
"You're so silly," she laughed, shaking her head at her jovial son. He always managed to put a smile on everyone's face.
"There you three are." Michonne and André turned to find Rick standing in the doorway wearing a small smile. He stepped into the room pulling of his light raincoat and placing his camera down on a table.
"There's ice cream downstairs bud," he said, ruffling André's hair as he came toward the bed. André didn't have to be told twice. The boy bounded out of the bedroom. His sweet tooth was like no other.
"Did you eat?"
"Yeah." She didn't bother telling him that it was only a few bites.
"Carl is still bitching about Enid," he said as he took a seat on the bed, pulling her down to sit with him. He smiled down at their daughter who was seated in her mother's lap happily exploring the room with her eyes as she babbled Dada. "He wants his phone back, but he's still on punishment though so I'm not budging. He fucked up that Ron kid's face."
"André told me you guys got into it again this morning." Carl was going through his rebellious teenage phase where he sassed his parents and did the exact opposite of what he was told to do. He was basically a tame version of what Rick had apparently been like at that age. In the week before arriving to London, he had skipped English class, fought a kid named Ron Anderson and got caught trying to smoke.
"The boy just doesn't listen," he said shaking his head. "I don't know where the hell he gets it from. He's gonna be a troublemaker."
"Don't know where he gets it from?" She scoffed, nudging him playfully. Carl had the makings of being as mischievous as his father had been. They had a similar way of inviting trouble. Luckily, he also inherited his father's loving spirit. "Leave my baby boy alone. He can't help what's inherited."
Rick smacked his forehead as if he missed a painfully obvious answer. "Oh right. I keep forgetting that you were a delinquent, Tipsy." A small smile formed on Michonne's lips. It had been quite a while since he referred to her by her nickname.
"Let's face it. With the things we've gotten up to in the past few years, our kids are basically doomed. They're natural troublemakers," she laughed. "Better they be like me than you though."
"True," he shrugged, as he moved to lay back on the bed. He patted the space next to him so Michonne could do the same. "I mean, I did break a priceless vase and punch your gatekeeper in the face on my first visit to Winfield house. That first impression was a lasting one. What was his name again? With the mullet. Eustis?"
"Eugene." She laid Judith down, between them moving to mirror Rick's position, lying on her side facing him. "Poor guy was just trying to do his job."
"He was the gate guy, not a fucking bodyguard. He had no business touching me. Especially when I was worried about you," He rested an arm on Michonne's waist making feather light patterns on the upper part of her hip with his fingers. "And he was an accomplice in my eyes. I couldn't let them take you away from me. Even if I was some country bumpkin trying to trap the Ambassador's daughter to get to her trust fund money."
"Nothing can stand between Rick and Michonne," she said quietly, as his hand slipped under her loose blouse to rest on her belly. It was something she had repeated to herself many times over the years. They made a promise to always stay together and they kept it. Even at the cost of family.
"How is she?"
Michonne's breath hitched as her eyes met his empathetic ones. She remained silent at first, gathering her thoughts and feelings about her earlier conversation with her mother. How was Winnie? And how did she feel about it?
"It hurts," she finally sobbed. "Seeing my Mom like that. She was like Superwoman to me when I was growing up and now she's like a small helpless child. She's so weak." She brushed away some of her spilled tears. "And James told me that the doctors don't think she'll last much longer. I spent such a long time being mad at her, but I can't lose my Mom, Rick. Not for good. Once she's gone, that's it. No do overs. I just can't imagine that. Why did I take so long to come back?"
He pulled her as close as he could get her with Judith nestled between them, as her tears spill freely. Years of pent up rage, betrayal and frustration came crashing down. She had so many regrets. She wished she was a better daughter. She wished she made better decisions. She wished Rick had never met Negan. She wished she had been a bigger person. She wished she didn't let their estrangement go on for such a long time, especially knowing how stubborn Winnie could be. She would always win in a game of silent treatment.
Most of all, she wished her brother was still alive.
"Love you Tipsy," he sighed, resting his head against hers.
"Mama," Judith said, making herself known smacking her little palm against Michonne's arm in an attempt to move her. She fussed, growing tired of how closely they were huddled together. "Mama no!"
"Okay, okay. I'm moving," Michonne laughed through tears. "This one is no joke."
"We've got some tough ass Grimes kids." Rick lifted their daughter in the air, grinning up at her. "Isn't that right Judes? You want your space, don't you?" He sat up, placing his daughter on his lap as he pulled his wife properly against his side. She rested her head against his chest, still sniffling from her cry.
They spent the rest of the afternoon wrapped up in the large bed, enjoying the brief silence before one of the kids came knocking or crying.
~TAD~
Winnie was sitting up in bed, propped up by a stack of pillows, when Michonne walked into her bedroom that evening with three of her children in tow. Once again, she was taken aback by how small and fragile her mother appeared beneath the thick blankets. James was seated in a large armchair next to her and he smiled as they entered.
"Hey Mom."
Winnie offered them a small smile as the three children, stood awkwardly around her bedside. Carl, the dark-haired blue-eyed boy seemed like a clone of his father. The eldest boy, stood out amongst his clearly biracial siblings, sharing no physical characteristics with the woman he had come to know as a mother.
"Mom, this is Carl, André and Colette," Michonne said, pointing to her three oldest children as they offered small waves. "Rick is getting Judith."
"You were just a little thing when we last saw you," she said to the eldest boy. He gave her a tight-lipped smile but didn't respond otherwise. Michonne gave his shoulder a light comforting squeeze.
"And you," Winnie said, shifting her gaze to André. It was like seeing a ghost. Every breath she drew and every word she spoke left an aching pain within her body, but she was determined to not let it show. "You look just like your…like your Mommy and her brother." The boy looked up at his mother with a bright grin almost identical to Amare's.
"Mom always says that I look like her brother Amare," he laughed. "Carl and Judith look more like Dad, but I'm glad I look like him and Mom. I wish I could have met him."
Tears welled in Winnie's eyes as she looked at the little boy. She was filled with regret about her daughter's estrangement. There was no reason good enough for them to have gone so long without speaking. Because of their stubbornness, she missed out on seeing her grandchildren grow up. She drove her daughter away and missed out on healing old wounds.
"And little Colette," she sniffed, looking at the six-year old girl that was clutching on to her mother's side. "I'm your grandma." She looked up at Michonne. "She's so pretty. I can see a little of you in her. You have beautiful children sweetheart."
"We have beautiful grandchildren," James said, squeezing her hand lightly.
She imagined what it would have been like if they had made up earlier or were visiting under different circumstances. Her body wouldn't have been plagued with the deadly disease, she would have been a few pounds heavier and she would have been able to properly host her family and interact with her beautiful grandchildren.
There was a light rap on the door and all of the room's inhabitants turned, starring expectantly as they waited for the last two members of the Grimes family to enter.
As the door opened, Winnie's eyes landed on the man who she held responsible for the whirlwind that was the past fifteen years. His very presence was chaotic and it was as if waves of mayhem emanated from him. He stood in the doorway of her large bedroom, baby daughter in hand, staring impassively back at her. She closed her eyes taking a shallow breath before averting her gaze to her daughter.
"Hello Winnie. How are you feeling?"
She didn't dare look at him. She couldn't. Merely breathing and hiding the pain of her illness consumed so much of her of her energy and concentration, she wasn't sure there was enough left in her to pretend that she didn't hate this man with every fiber of her being. "Hello Richard. It's been a long time since I've seen you too." She still didn't trust him, but she didn't have the energy to be anything other than stoically civil. "I'm just hanging in there. I don't feel great, but…that's the way it is these days."
He nodded as he moved further into the room, stopping behind his wife as he placed a comforting hand on her lower back, rubbing gently. "I see you've met the others." He glanced at André who was already nestled near his grandmother. He had always been quick when it came to warming up to new people. "This is your granddaughter Judith. Our youngest."
Winnie's eyes slowly moved to the child in Rick's arms. She was a spitting image of her father. She saw a little of Michonne in the eyes, but the child was pure Rick. "She's an adorable little thing." There was a knot in her throat. "It's been so long since I've held a little baby."
"Would you like to hold her?"
Her eyes found Michonne's. "Will you help me Chou-chou?" She weakly held out her arms. "I just want to…"
"Of course Mom." Rick handed their youngest child to Michonne, who moved to sit beside her mother on the bed. The woman tried to sit up straighter as held out her shaky arms for Judith. Michonne passed her daughter to her mother, settling the child in the older woman's lap while helping to support her weight. Judith stared at her grandmother with unblinking and innocent hazel orbs.
Tears welled in Winnie's eyes as she watched her grandchild. She always loved the pureness and innocent that babies could bring to a room. "I'm grandma," she rasped. "I'm your grandma and I love you so much." She looked up at the three other children around her. "I love you all and it's so great to meet you." Tears welled in her eyes. She promised herself that she would keep the crying to the minimum around the children, but it was an emotional moment. "Take her, chou-chou."
Once Judith was safely returned to her mother, Winnie looked around the room at the newly introduced family with dreamy eyes. She tried to memorize every little detail on their faces, trying to commit them to memory. These were faces she needed to remember. "I'm so glad you're all here. I'm happy," she said softly. She meant every word.
Fifteen Years Earlier: After the disappearance
Winnie stood frozen in the doorway of her daughter's chilly bedroom. She wasn't sure how long she had been standing there, but her feet were growing tired. She wasn't sure what she wanted to look for and she was afraid of what she would find. She slowly entered the room, eyes raking over its contents for any clues as to what may have happened to her daughter.
Nothing seemed particularly out of place.
The bed was made.
Horvath's words replayed in her mind.
'She walked through those doors on Friday and as far as eyewitnesses go, she never walked back out of that front door. Yet, nobody had laid eyes on her since Friday night.'
She didn't like that he looked at her as if she were a bad or incompetent mother. How dare he judge her as if she didn't know her own child?
Winnie opened Michonne's spacious closet, stepping inside. Some of her clothes were on the floor and there were many open draws, but there wasn't anything alarming about that. She had the tendency to get messy when trying to find the perfect outfit. Her eyes caught the pink fabric of the dress Michonne was supposed to wear to her birthday gala that never took place. She reached forward lightly caressing the soft fabric as she thought of how beautiful it would have been. She had hoped the girl would have worn it for her upcoming graduation party.
She reemerged from the closet, scanning the neat bedroom once again. She couldn't get the man's critical voice out of her head.
'This is turning out to be a very curious case.'
An open book sat on the desk, which faced an open window. A cup that held pens was knocked over and some other books were haphazardly stacked in a corner. A cool breeze wafted through the room as Winnie slowly reached for it, recognizing her daughter's writing. She slowly flipped through the pages, where Michonne documented her day to day thoughts and ideas, until she came to the last entry. The page following the entry had been ripped out.
Her heart hammered in her chest as the final words and the bottom of the page stuck out to her as if they were written in neon lights.
So, finally a glimpse of present day Rick and Winnie really doesn't trust him. Plus, some other interesting revelations.
Let me know what you think!
