Chapter 10 – Closure Part 1
"Thank you. We'll be there at five o'clock."
The restaurant was located between two large terra-cotta brick buildings on a quiet and non-assuming street in College Park. The establishment could be easily overlooked by anyone who was not already aware of its existence. The unlit yellow sign with a mix of red and black letters spelling out ORANGE DUCK RESTAURANT, in both English and Mandarin, was the only aspect that distinguished the business from its adjoining neighbors. The outside of the restaurant was extremely unpretentious. To say that the dining establishment didn't have a high level of curb appeal would be a true understatement.
When the group of six entered the restaurant they were awestruck. The first thing they noted was the size. The outside appearance gave the appearance that the establishment would be cramped. It was a false impression. The restaurant turned out to be a voluminous gem hiding in plain sight within the small suburban town. The entry way led into a very sizable dining area; spacious and meticulously adorned with old world Eastern Oriental art. The intricate details that went into decorating the unassuming restaurant was impressive. The interior decorator most assuredly earned their pay.
The hostess seated them on the first floor at a large round table near the front of the crowded restaurant.
"Did you ask about his work hours?" Carol directed her question to Rosita once the hostess handed them their menu's and walked away.
"Yes," she answered while casually glancing at Maggie, "they said that he comes in at four o'clock...he's probably upstairs or in the back." She finished while directing her glance in the direction of the back where a lavish marble staircase was located. Before they could speak further, a very young and very peppy young waitress approached their table.
"Welcome to the Orange Duck Restaurant. My name is Lisa and I'll be your server this evening. May I get everyone started with something to drink?"
Lisa happily took the drink orders from everyone at the table. She couldn't help but notice the guarded and somewhat distant behavior of the patrons.
"Uh, is the manager, Glenn Rhee, in this evening?" Rick tactfully asked of the waitress before she took her leave.
She directed her attention to the man with the focused blue eyes and deeply southern vernacular.
"Yes. He is here," she happily disclosed, "Do you know Mr. Rhee?"
"Well... not really. A friend of ours had dinner here and had nothin' but good things to say about the manager...um...Mr. Rhee. Our friend gave him very high marks. We'd like to meet the man who left such a good impression on our friend." He, along with the others, smiled and nodded in an effort to make the lie more believable.
"That's good to hear," she beamed, "He's in the back. I'll have to let him know so he can come out and speak to you all." She smiled at the group before heading towards the kitchen to get their water and varied beverages.
The table fell silent. Rosita clutched Maggie's hand and gave it a little shake. They retrieved their menus and began to peruse its many offerings.
Michonne to Mike: Hey…Having dinner with the team you met. Looks like it's gonna be a long night. We're gonna get rooms here in Decatur and hopefully wrap all this up by tomorrow evening. Kiss my little peanut. See you tomorrow. Love u babe.
"You sure you don't wanna see him...one last time?" One of her friends asked, though she really couldn't say who. Her mind had drifted.
Before leaving the motel she discussed her uncertainty. Her uncertainty regarding Andre; more specifically, saying goodbye to this Andre. When Carol divulged her plans regarding Sophia, Michonne nearly reconsidered…
"Yes...I'm sure," she'd responded without looking up to see who voiced the inquiry. "I've already said my goodbye, and if I had to see him one more time...and say goodbye one more time... it might break me..." she giggled joylessly, "...and scare the heck out of him..." she glanced around the table at the sweet and concerned faces staring at her...
"He was smiling and eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich when I said goodbye...he was happy and beautiful. He's got two incredible parents that adore him and will protect him…I couldn't leave him in better hands if I tried. That's what I'll take with me." She wiped away the few tears that fell. Rick touched her face. He closed the space between them and kissed her cheek. A sudden flush of warmth and flutters shot through her body. She leaned closer and placed her lips on his. The kiss was soft and gentle before she whispered..."It's how its gotta be."
The message was sent. A simple and not overly wordy text message was the best way to handle this...this ending. The tiny white letters inside the blue box illuminated her phone. With wandering thoughts - back to their first date and their last kiss - she touched the highlighted letters. Her fingers slowly brushed the screen. "Goodbye Mike," she whispered.
She glanced up from her phone to see that her friends had ceased conversation. They'd taken note of her actions. Rick was sitting to her right at the large round table. Carol sat to her left; she smiled and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. They'd all gotten used to Carol's mock smile which she used for the unvetted. This smile was real; true empathy and understanding.
Michonne turned to her right - in his eyes was the spark that would light her way home. She felt an overwhelming since of strength, a since resolve. There was a smile on his face which didn't quite reach his clouded blue eyes as he watched her. She reached out and stroked his bare arm, took a deep breath - exhaled - and then looked around the table…
"The text was a good idea. At least he won't worry. Plus...the last thing I wanna do is ruin her relationship with him. I don't want him to doubt her fidelity. I can't leave in good conscience knowing that I've placed any kind of doubt in his head...in regards to her commitment to him...or…uh...to their child." She smiled, though her acknowledgment of Andre not being her child did not go unnoticed by her friends. She'd finally been able to say it out loud; say what everyone already knew. The words tasted almost bitter as they left her mouth, and they stung her ears when she heard them, but they were true. She wanted to cry, but she wouldn't. Tonight is for Maggie...and all of us. This is about some semblance of closure.
She looked down at her phone as a new message came in. The message was short. It was simple and to the point.
Mike to Michonne: Okay baby. Have a good night. We'll see u tomorrow. Love u.
"Ya'll still have the feelin' of bein' watched...like before?" Daryl quietly inquired of his friends.
"The feeling is still there, but it's...different...almost feels sorta normal," Rosita voiced the reply that they were all thinking. The feeling of being watched had nearly paralyzed her when she awoke in the hotel room. It had been a horrible gnawing feeling. An uncomfortable sense of being constantly watched. Like having the gawking eyes of fifty men from a construction site follow her for the remainder of the day, into the night, and into the new day.
"Maybe since we know whose watching us, it's cut down on the strange and scary feeling that we all experienced. It's still a little…eerie, but not so scary," Michonne said.
"That's what I was thinking," Carol began, "it's almost like as soon as I knew the truth…all the weirdness and anxiety went away. Haven't felt it since we left that office earlier…"
"Yeah," Daryl concurred. The roller coaster of emotions continued to wreak havoc at the table as they all suddenly felt a certain amount of peace.
"I was telling Rosita that I think we need to write a letter to them…to ourselves…these people…you know what I mean," Maggie stammered slightly flustered.
"That's a good idea," Carol agreed smiling at her friend.
"Wonder how much they'll know…will they have our memories like we have theirs…"
"I hope not…" Rosita's no nonsense tone was palpable, "no one should have to live with our memories…not even us." The sad reality of their shared history, shared losses, shared horrors instantly shrouded the table. The thought of anyone in this new old world being able to sleep, much less function, with those memories rattling around in their brain was too much to reconcile. Sadness was rapidly overwriting their found peace.
"I see a lot of therapy in their future…" Carol said with the smallest of eye rolls causing a break in the tension. The comment, which was more morbid than comical, caused slow rolling laughter to break out at the table.
"How much do you think the good doctor will tell them?" Michonne asked the contempt ladened question. The laughter trailed off. Rick promptly spoke…
"Probably only as much as he has to. Pretty sure he'd prefer they didn't remember anything," they all regarded the words and demeanor of their unelected leader as he attempted to answer the question. The answer could be nothing more than speculation.
"We need to stop by the drug store when we leave here and pick up some kinda stationery…drop the letters in the mail tomorrow before we leave…we can't trust them to be truthful." Maggie added.
"Yeah…I don't trust them assholes…" Daryl contentiously spat.
"What should we tell them? How much should we tell them?" Rosita posed the question to her dinner companions, but her eyes landed on Maggie. It was a quandary that none could readily answer. The question hung in the air while some drank their beverages and others ate some of the bread that Lisa had brought to the table.
"It's hard to say how much we should tell them," Michonne began, "I mean…if they don't have a memory of what we've been through, then telling them would just cause them…undue stress," she sighed, "but if we don't tell them and they do have memories…they'll probably think their crazy and end up being institutionalized." She regarded the faces of the others.
They all stopped. His voice was undeniable. Even from the opposite side of the dining hall his inflection was unmistakable. They all turned towards the voice. Glenn was speaking with one of the bus boys. He was smiling at the man and patting him on the back. Even from across the room his smile was radiant.
Oh my God you're so young, so healthy, and so strong.
His jet black hair was cut close around the sides. The top was longer and buzzed - held in place with some type of gel that added salon style spikes. His face was clean shaven – a baby face if there ever was one. He was wearing a tailored navy blue suit. It was a two-button jacket that the young manager began unbuttoning as he walked towards their table. He exuded confidence. They refocused back to Maggie Rhee.
"I can't…"
"It's okay. You're gonna be okay." Rosita held Maggie's hand. The light hand holding rapidly became a soft iron grip hand, holding Maggie in place. Daryl took hold of her shoulder as Maggie attempted to stand; she was about to bolt from the restaurant. Bolt from the man that wasn't her man. Bolt from the overarching reality of what was to come.
"Maggie it's okay, it's okay," Michonne said, then looked at both Rosita and Daryl, "if she can't do it, don't make her...let her go!" she demanded in a hushed tone.
"Nah," Daryl stated, "she needs to do this…she said…"
"I agree with Michonne," Carol interrupted, reaching on the other side of the temperamental tracker where Maggie was struggling to stand, "If she can't do it then we need to let her go."
Everyone's eyes, with the exception of Rick, were focused on Maggie.
The fifteen minute drive from the motel to the restaurant had been uneventful. Rick, Michonne and Rosita traveled in Michonne's car. The conversation was relaxed as jazz played quietly through the car speakers. They each shared short stories about their families. With the exception of Rosita expressing her unease at possibly seeing Sasha in the morning, the mood in the car remained surprisingly jovial - given the circumstances.
Daryl, Carol and Maggie traveled to the restaurant in Daryl's car. Between discussions about current television shows, music and some discussion about their 'doppelgängers' current professions, the mood remained light.
Carol had decided to leave the motel in the morning and pick Sophia up from Ed's house. She planned to have brunch with the young lady who had the face of her deceased child. Brunch had always been their favorite thing before the world ended; if Ed Peletier was still passed out from the night before.
After much cajoling, Carol managed to convince Daryl to join her and Sophia for brunch while the others attended the church service in Atlanta.
They actively avoided the conversation regarding the possible ramifications of Maggie's initial contact with Glenn. How would Maggie handle seeing Glenn?
Maggie was the focus. Maggie was their concern. So what happened next came as a surprise to all…
Seeing and hearing Glenn had transported Rosita back to the clearing - on her knees, watching her friends on their knees. Watching the man that she loved get murdered. Watching her friend get murdered. The blood that dripped from the bat... A chill ran down her spine. Her breathing became erratic. Her shoulders slumped as her face crumbled. Without any further warning she began to weep.
Michonne shifted her focus from Maggie to Rosita - Oh my God she's hyperventilating. As panicked and anxious as she was earlier, I should've seen this coming - she stood and rushed closer to Rosita. Daryl kept his hand on Maggie while also trying to console Rosita. Both women wept quietly. Michonne rubbed Rosita's back and held Maggie's hand.
The restaurant manager, Glenn Rhee, made his way to their table. He was mere feet away. Rick stood and walked towards the well-dressed manager. He halted his stride directly in front of him – blocking his view of the others at the table. He smiled but nearly lost his breath. The younger man was average height but shorter than Rick remembered. Amazing how tall you appear when you're almost always in fight mode. Superheroes tend to look tall. Rick smiled at the thought of Glenn Rhee superhero. Standing before him was a man who, in a different world, had been his friend and brother.
"Um, Mr. Rhee...it's a pleasure. My name is Rick Grimes...uh...Deputy Rick Grimes," he continued the reflective smile while extending his hand…
"Nice to meet you, Sir." They shook hands...
Mr. Rhee glanced at the table which the deputy was partially blocking. His view of the table's occupants wasn't completely visible, but the tension at the table was undeniable. The behavior and facial expressions of the people were…odd. The black woman with the dreadlocks and the white man who had a kind of redneck feel, seemed to be huddled around two women whose faces he could not see. He could vaguely make out harsh whispers. And though he couldn't clearly identify it; there was a faint sound of crying from at least one person at the table. Something was going on. The middle aged white woman with short chestnut hair appeared to be rising from her seated position. He focused back on the deputy before him.
"Lisa told me that one of your friends had visited our restaurant and said some good things… That's always nice to hear," he laughed in his most professional customer service laugh.
"Yeah...um, he said you're a good man to know," The deputy and leader gave a polite laugh and added more volume to his voice in hopes of covering the sounds emanating from the table.
While Rick attempted to keep Glenn involved in casual conversation his friends at the table were experiencing a myriad of emotions; painful flashbacks, happiness at hearing his voice, and sadness of knowing that they would never hear it again.
Maggie sat with her back to Glenn. He was so close that she could smell his cologne. It was cologne that she did not recognize. The Glenn from her world never had access to cologne. As odd as the feeling was, and as nonsensical as it seemed, the scent was him. Even without seeing his face - and smelling the artificial scent that covered him - his natural essence spoke to her. She could not control her emotions as the tears silently fell.
"It's nice to meet you Mr. Rhee. I'm Carol Peletier. This is a really nice place you have here." She held his hand with both of hers. For a moment she nearly fumbled.
Rick glanced at the table while Carol did her best to distract the manager whose eyes were clearly questioning what was going on the at table mere feet from where he stood. He was suddenly grateful that though they were seated near the front of the dining area, their table was off to the side near a wall. Some diners had begun to take note of the movements at the table, but utilized proper and considerate dining etiquette. There was no overt gawking; only unobtrusive side glances. A headache was thumping at the back of his skull – undoubtedly from the fierce battle raging in his head to stave off emotions that sought release while standing in front of his old 'friend.' If I cry now…if I start blubbering…he'll take off like a bat outta hell and Maggie will never…none of them would ever get what they need. The closure. He smiled as Carol picked up the metaphorical baton that he seemed to be dropping.
"I've been working with Deputy Grimes for a while now, and I can tell you that this is the nicest place we've eaten at," Carol continued with a soft laugh. She followed his eyes as they trailed over to where her friends were in various stages of distress. "You have to excuse our team for a moment…we're just finishing up a call…" she motioned to the table with the sparkle in her eyes that never gave away any secrets.
Glenn was aware that something was going on... "No problem. I…uh…I'll give you all a chance to order. I can stop back by a little later to…um…meet the rest of your team." He confirmed though somewhat doubtful, given the behavior of the deputy's dinner companions.
"Thank you…we'd really appreciate that," Rick assured.
He nodded at the two strangers standing before him…
"Yes…thanks so much," Carol returned the manager's small expectant smile. They watched him walk back towards the other side of the restaurant. Rick observed Carol - he was continually amazed by the chameleon like abilities she'd gained in 'their' world. If she did not want you to see what she thought and felt, then you would not. He lovingly stroked her shoulder before turning to the table.
Never thought this would end with weeping in a restaurant
"I think we need to step outside for a few minutes...get some air," Michonne informed Rick, Carol and Daryl as she took the hands of both Rosita and Maggie and walked towards the exit.
Daryl didn't speak. Carol leaned over to Daryl and hugged him from behind. No one focused their attention on the reluctant good guy, but Daryl's need for absolution and closure was as strong as his friends. His guilt regarding both Abe and Glenn's death was an unspoken truth. Carol held him tightly. Rick observed the interaction between his two friends, then watched the women walk out of the restaurant.
o-o-o
It was still bright outside. The sun was more than an hour away from setting, but the scattering of faint clouds caused a yellow haze to settle over the city. The heat of the day had subsided and left a very comfortable evening in its wake. They walked out of the front door of the non-assuming eatery and walked closer to the parking lot before words were spoken into the low sounds of crying…
"Everything just…I don't know…just came back to me. I thought I was okay. I thought I'd worked through it. I'm so sorry Maggie," Rosita sorrowfully blurted out, "This wasn't about me. This wasn't…" Maggie grasped her hand and interrupted her words…
"You don't have to apologize," Maggie breathed, "This…this was about all of us. It's not just about me." She ended her words by enveloping her friend and current roommate into her arms. They sniffled into each other's shoulders. Michonne walked up to the women and wrapped her arms around them both.
An astute attorney has to have many tools in their toolbox. Understanding the varying nuances of human nature being as important to them as a wrench is to a plumber. Michonne had become successful at her craft by realizing that very fact. Learning how to work with both the criminal and the victim was her special skill. It was a skill that had served her well before the world ended, and one that served her well in the post-apocalyptic world. Tact and diplomacy were their own reward.
She marveled at the strength of her friends. They stood in front of her and attempted to reel in their emotions. They wiped away the tears. So many shared memories. She watched the scene - just one statement and only one question...
Michonne laid her hand on Maggie's upper back. "The three of us, along with Carol, are probably the strongest and most fierce women that exist in this world, dimension, planet…or whatever. We've survived things that would've crushed and destroyed most women, and men for that matter…but here we are. We can cry, and we can laugh, we can love...because we're standing. But…none of us can tell you what to do. None of us can tell you how to handle this. I only have one question," Maggie lifted her head and faced her no-nonsense friend.
The determined brown eyes locked onto the melancholy green, "Can you do this?"
Maggie smiled and without any more trepidation assured, "I can...yes I can. It was just…hard seeing him...and hearing him. I didn't realize..." she sighed deep as she stammered through her admission, "...that it would hit me like that...but I know I can do this. I have to do this." The three women embraced for a number of minutes.
"I'll be right back," Michonne said as she left the two fearless women and walked towards the parking lot. There were many things that she would miss, but she was most certainly going to miss this. This - the chatter of pedestrians as they walked along the sidewalk, the faint sound of a helicopter overhead, an emergency vehicle siren in the distance, and the missing smell of death that always hung in the air. I'm really gonna miss the normality of a regular life. She took a deep breath; the all-consuming need to take it all in was suddenly overwhelming. The press of the key fob signaled the beep – unlocking the door. She retrieved the facial tissue and rejoined her friends.
"You both ready?" She asked after handing both women tissue. Their response was a simple nod. They hugged.
"Okay then...let's get back in there...'cuz I don't know about you two, but I'm hungry as hell."
o-o-o-o
"This is really good," Carol exclaimed as she reached to the middle of the table for more pad thai. The group was sharing the many varied and divers entrées that sat in the middle of the table. The restaurant offered a very eclectic selection of Chinese, Korean, Thai and Japanese dishes.
While the three women were outside, Daryl stepped away to have a cigarette and Carol returned a call to Sophia – leaving Rick to order for everyone.
"I agree," Michonne said glancing over a Rick, "you did pretty good, Interim Chief Grimes," she flirtatiously said with a wink. Momentarily forgetting their precarious situation, he dragged her chair closer to him; they leaned into each other and kissed. Rick opened his mouth and swiftly sucked in her bottom lip before she pulled away and giggled. She tapped his nose then shifted her attention back to their dinner companions.
"Uh…Clearly some of you…" he playfully scrutinized his dinner companions with crinkled eyes before landing his stare back on his woman, "think I'm just a country boy and don't have faith in my top notch dining abilities." He finished with a squeeze of her leg under the table.
"In our defense, Rick…we really don't have anything to go by," Rosita shrugged her shoulders and smiled before starting to laugh.
"Yeah. She's gotta' point man." Daryl agreed in a low grumble while he ate his sweet and sour sesame wings.
The conversation moved from chiding Rick, to learning more about their fellow fighters, survivors and friends.
"So, you just a food snob is what you sayin'"
"I'm not a food snob Dixon…I just have taste," Michonne shot a devilish smirk her friend's way.
"Which means she don't just eat anything that ain't movin'," Maggie added. They all casually glanced at their friend who had remained quiet through most of the dinner.
"Whatever ya'll," he smiled at his friends and very subtly squeezed Maggie's arm before peering back at Rosita and Michonne.
"Don't listen to them Daryl," Carol said with a glint in her eyes, "Nobody makes better smoked possum than you…"
"That's right," Rick agreed before they all burst out laughing. Daryl was only mildly amused.
"I just—"
"Ahem," Glenn Rhee cleared his throat. He was standing behind Maggie. They had been so immersed in their conversation and the simple pleasure of being with each other that none noticed him approach the table.
"I didn't want to disturb your dinner, but, unfortunately I'm gonna need to run out for a while. I wanted to make sure I stopped back by before I left." They were all frozen. Those that faced him – Rick, Michonne and Carol – smiled politely. The others became deathly silent.
"We appreciate that. Thank you." Rick found his voice.
Glenn returned the smiles directed at him, and smiled wider at the striking black woman sitting practically in the deputy's lap…
"You must be Mrs. Grimes?" he asked-stated. Never one to make assumptions, but it was pretty obvious. People having an affair don't openly kiss and touch in public – and certainly not at a table with other people. These two people were in love and in a relationship. Based on the wedding ring that he wore, she was clearly his wife.
"Um…uh…this isn't…" he stuttered, his blue eyes as wide as a deer in headlights.
"Uh…No…I'm not his wife…My name is Michelle Onette. I'm the…uh…lawyer on the team. It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Rhee," She rambled, temporarily forgetting her ability to use either tact or diplomacy.
"Oh…my mistake. It's nice to meet you Ms. Onette," he very tactfully recovered; hoping his embarrassment didn't show on his face. Discretion was an unspoken rule for those who work in hospitality industries. Glenn was very good at what he did. He never judged. Not my business. Don't ask, don't tell.
"Thank you," She calmed herself and was able to continue, "These are our other team members," she motioned to the others as she discretely scooted her chair closer to Carol, "You've already met Carol…that's Daryl Dixon…that's Rosita Espinosa…and that's Maggie Greene," Maggie was sitting with her back to him. She was the only one who didn't look up and give him the very conventional smile and nod.
"It's nice to meet you all," he promised, still recovering from the awkwardness he'd caused with his assumption.
"How long have you been a manager here?" Carol jumped in.
"Um…it's been about a year. I used to deliver pizzas," he smiled, "I was in business school, and delivering pizza's part time worked out perfect."
"This is a really nice place," Rosita said.
"Thank you. I'm very happy that your friend sent you our way," though he smiled, there was something strange about these people. There was something they were hiding. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something. The hair on the back of his neck was at full attention. There is something.
"Both the food and the ambiance was great," Carol added.
"Good to hear. Hopefully you'll recommend us to your friends and colleagues…we also cater," he laughed.
"We'll keep that in mind," Rick finally spoke.
"Okay…great. Well, I'll let you get back to your dinner…" he needed to get away from them. The odd sense he was getting was becoming overwhelming. He started feeling uncomfortably overheated.
They watched her as she scooted her chair back and began to stand. Glenn backed up to give her room. She took her time rotating her body from the table to face him…Whoosh- the drug store, the barn, the prison, the tunnel, Terminus, the church, their house in Alexandria- It hit her suddenly. Rick and Daryl stood. For a moment it looked as if she'd pass out. Glenn took her hand.
"Are you okay, Miss?" He asked with genuine concern as he held her hand. She nodded and waved her hand at Daryl and Rick, indicating that she was okay.
"I'm…um…I'm fine…thank you," she held his hand tighter through her verbal teeter, "It was just a little…head rush," she smiled. Her friends watched in silence.
She looked into eyes that she could tell were not those of her love. This was not her Glenn. She searched the eyes of a man that was currently allowing her to hold his hand. There was no doubt that this was not her Glenn. But there was something. She could feel it. There was something.
"Oh…good," there was something, "maybe you should…uh…sit back down," he said, growing somewhat uncomfortable in her unrelenting gaze.
"You're right," she giggled, "but…well…I told our friend that if we made it to the Orange Duck Restaurant, and we had the chance to meet you, that I'd give you a big hug for being such a great host," her smile covering the lie she told.
Without waiting for him to respond, she let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around him. He froze as she stepped into the hug. She pulled him closer and closed her eyes. His body felt the same, and even with the unknown fragrance that covered him…it was both him and not him – I know you're not him, but thank you. Thanks for giving me love. For protecting me and letting me protect you. We made each other strong, and now…Now I'm gonna be strong for our baby. I didn't get to tell you goodbye…goodbye my love. The hug was probably about fifteen seconds longer than what would be considered 'respectable' for strangers in the dining hall of a crowded restaurant. She released him and stepped back.
"Thank you again Mr. Rhee," she smiled at him, though acutely aware of his mildly stunned demeanor.
"Uh…yeah…you're welcome," he didn't seem to be particularly bothered by her unsolicited display of affection, but he was stunned, "Um…thank you all again for coming in tonight," he directed to those at the table – the women had tears in their eyes and smattered on their face. He turned and walked towards the rear of the restaurant.
They watched him walk away…
Maggie directed her attention back to her friends who were all quite preclempt…
"I hope you saved me some of that curry shrimp, Carol," she lightheartedly grinned and winked at the others as she took her seat.
o-o-o-o
An air of restlessness followed the group out of the restaurant. There was a sense peace that seeing Glenn provided; a closure that seemed attainable. However, the uncertainty of the journey they would make in less than twenty four hours was ever-present.
"Let's go to a movie," Michonne suggested as they reached both vehicles.
"Fine, but I ain't seein' no romantic crap," Daryl grumbled, which caused an unfettered laugh from the other travelers.
"You pick the movie Dixon…I'm okay with anything," Michonne agreed mid laugh. She interlaced her fingers with Rick and he kissed her cheek.
After a heated discussion between Daryl and Rosita at the kiosk of one of the local multiplex theaters, an agreement was reached.
They concluded their night at a very modest bar located far off the highway at the end of a very dark street.
"…Pretty sure we're gonna run into Michael Myers or Jason…maybe even Norman Bates as soon as we start walking to the door," Rosita said once they were parked in the deserted parking lot.
"You might be right," Michonne agreed as they all laughed.
"Whatever," Daryl grumbled. He was familiar with the bar and convinced the others that if they wanted to go for drinks, this was the best place. They required privacy. The possibility of them being seen in public could cause problems for the ones they were leaving behind. They all knew that what happened at the restaurant couldn't happen again. Rosita sat between Rick and Michonne at the theater. They would not purposely ruin these people's lives.
"They got hard drinks and cold beer…and there ain't no damn pryin' eyes."
They entered the very dusky bar.
o-o-o-o
"She's intent on gettin' drunk," Rick said to the others as they watched their friend.
"Yeah, I can see that," Carol agreed, not taking her eyes off of Maggie.
"We need'ta let her get drunk if that's what she wants," Daryl addressed the overly concerned expressions that the others had.
"Yeah...maybe you're right." Rick cautiously agreed. Through their time together, Maggie had become more than just a friend or a random family member –she had become a sister. Watching his little sister in the grips of an unwinnable internal struggle was difficult for him. He ran his hands through his hair and furrowed his brow as he watched her walk towards them.
"Woo Hoo..." Maggie raised her drink in the air as she rejoined her compadres. She put her left hand on Carol's shoulder as she leaned into their unofficial huddle with a large smile...
"I know ya'll think I've lost it, but I ain't…" she finished her drink in four swallows, "…I did what I needed to do...and right now I need to get shitfaced drunk." She tightly grasped Carols shoulder.
"Maggie..." Michonne began, "Are...uh..." she stopped before continuing what would have been a short lecture about possibly not getting drunk since they had to be at church early in the morning. A momentary glimpse into the glassy green eyes of her friend and the words were lost. Maggie looked at her friends. They had all been through so much together. Through all their trials, they had learned how to communicate wordlessly. Verbalized words could be dangerous; a certain kind of telepathy was imperative. That skill had apparently followed them into this world.
"After tomorrow, I don't know how long it'll be before I have another drink. I'm gonna take care of myself, and I'm gonna make sure that when that damn war's over...mine's and Glenn's baby will be healthy and beautiful. But tonight..." she waved her hands in the air again and as she walked away, she turned and shouted, "and don't worry about church in the morning! That's one thing about having a daddy who drank…I know all the tricks for recovering from a hangover!" She shook her bottom to the song that was currently playing on the jukebox.
They watched her walk to the bar, put down her glass, and order another whiskey sour. Daryl walked up behind her and put money on the bar. She smiled and bumped him with her shoulder.
"I got your back," he assured.
"I know, and I got yours," she confirmed. Neither needed to elaborate. They had a bond that was born out of mutual respect, which led to mutual understanding. He ordered himself a beer, and the two friends sat at the bar and had a drink together.
Rick made sure not to drink, in order to give his friends the opportunity to enjoy their final night in this world. Michonne also declined to drink so that she could drive the other car. It had been a fun night to say the least. They had an opportunity to see the sides of each other that they would otherwise never know. It was what they all needed. The minutes passed quickly and one o'clock was upon them.
"I'll help you get Maggie's shoes off," Michonne told Rick as they laid their friend down on her bed. The couple had walked the younger woman to her room, one arm flung over Michonne's shoulders and the other over Rick's, while she slumped in the middle humming a tune that they couldn't quite make out.
"Okay, I got Rosita's," Carol told Daryl as they lay their other friend on her bed. She was not quite as out of it as Maggie, but was still unable to walk without assistance. The four standing friends could not help but l2augh at the women who were strong and capable, but at this moment incredibly drunk.
"I'm leaving the bottle of aspirin on the nightstand so that they can see it. I figure they'll both need it in the morning."
"Yeah," Daryl grunted.
Both Daryl and Rick stepped out of the room while Michonne and Carol proceeded to undress their friends. They took wet wash cloths and laid them across the foreheads of the women. They couldn't help but chuckle.
"It'll be interesting to see if they can actually get up in the morning," Michonne said as she watched Rosita mumble and Maggie hum.
"I'll stay with them for a while...check on them during the night...don't you worry," her half-smile giving credence to her words, "I've dealt with enough drunks in my life...they'll be fine." She walked closer to a stilled Michonne, "You my dear have a deputy out there waiting for you...enjoy your night together and don't worry about them." She gave her a fairly rushed hug, and then shooed her to the door.
"This is your night…enjoy," she said as Michonne stepped out of the door. Then focused back on her mumbling and humming friends. She smirked…
"You two are gonna have a humdinger of a headache in the morning…church should be fun," she laughed soundlessly and then walked to the bathroom to get more damp face towels for the ladies.
A/N: Thank you all so very much for reading, following, favoring and reviewing this story. You've kept me motivated to continue. I am extremely humbled and grateful. Let me know what you think of this update. Part 2 of this chapter will be up shortly. Blessings...