"We fell in love, despite our differences, and once we did, something rare and beautiful was created. For me, love like that has only happened once, and that's why every minute we spent together has been seared in my memory. I'll never forget a single moment of it."
― Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook
"If I am late for work Mr. Grimes it is all your fault. You can't give me a verbal or write it down to remind me of this time when you aren't allowing me to sleep. I am using you as a valid excuse for my tardy in the morning. Your fault." Michonne insisted.
Michonne checked the time on her alarm clock against the time displayed on her cell phone. It matched. 2am.
"I need you to delete that picture."
"No."
"Michonne."
"I like it. It's very prominent like the man."
"I need you to delete that picture."
"I pray that it is not hooded. I am flexible if it is wearing a very clean hood."
"It is clean. I will not verify anything else with you, Michonne."
"I am hanging up." Michonne yawned. She knew when Mr. Grimes was going to draw a blank or black out. She wasn't about to exert too much energy in veering if he refused to participate and actively engage.
"I will just call right back." Mr. Grimes replied back.
"What do you want Mr. Grimes?"
"It's not fair and it's Highly Inappropriate. I have no idea what you plan to do with a picture like that, and I think about my kids if you decide to do-"
"Well, it helped produce your children and possibly any future children."
"You caught me off guard being in my house and plus I wasn't feeling well and I wake up the next day with you next to me. I go to the bathroom and come out and you snap a picture." Mr. Grimes gave his version of events. "Normally, I wouldn't give a shit, Michonne. We both have pictures of each other but you have a dick pix of me as your screensaver."
"Now you've downgraded it to sick? At the time I distinctively remember you said you were dying."
Michonne propped her pillow under her head for more comfort.
"It is a pajama covered Dick Pix. What do you want, Mr. Grimes? I am not deleting it."
"What reason do you have for keeping that picture?"
"I will send you a picture of my reason, and we will call it even. I will keep my picture of you, and you will have the reason I need your picture."
Michonne disconnected the call. She sent Mr. Grimes a very seductive picture of her and a pink dildo. Within several minutes she received a text.
Mr. Grimes: I am lost for words.
Michonne: You found 5.
Mr. Grimes: Are you drunk?
Michonne: You found three more.
Mr. Grimes: I have to delete it.
Michonne: Okay.
Mr. Grimes I have to.
Michonne: Okay. I am not deleting your picture from my phone. Good night.
Michonne slid her phone under her pillow with it still grasped in her hand when she heard and felt the vibration. The sensation made her lady parts tingle.
Mr. Grimes was calling her back. He wasn't texting.
"What do you expect me to do with this, Michonne?"
"I thought you were going to delete it?"
There was a disconcerting silence. Michonne wasn't sure what to make of it.
"What do you want to do with it, Mr. Grimes? I have sent you a picture. We are even. Square. Friends sharing. Right? Trying to keep it fair. Your heart can only handle so much, you know."
"I don't know where to begin, Michonne."
"Do you want me to help?"
"Yes."
"Do you want me to help you understand why I need that picture of you?"
"Yes."
"Do you want me to tell you what it does to me when I am alone in the night?"
"Yes."
"Do you want me to tell you how I imagine you inside of me?"
"Yes."
"Do you want me to tell you how wet I get just looking at it?"
"Yes."
"I want to touch you there. I want to feel you in my hands. I want to know how thick it is, how long, how warm. I get really horny in the night, and I like looking at it. I'm in my bed all alone, waiting for you, waiting for it. I want to know what it would feel like to have you all up inside me. It makes me squirm because I know it's going to make me moan when you put it in. It's going to make me call your name. I will have to tell you to take it slow because you are so big and I am so tight. I haven't had a man in awhile. I really want the real thing. The real thing makes me very wet. I am so tight and wet, Mr. Grimes."
Michonne only had his breathing that was slightly labored to go by when she waited for a response, any response that was favorable to what she was sharing with him. Michonne wanted him to share that part of himself with her, but he would have to trust her. This was an indication, she thought.
"Why can't you call me Rick?"
"Are we blurring?"
"What does it sound like, Michonne? Once. Tell me." His voice was strained and desperate.
"Rick." Michonne gave him a glimpse of what blurring would look like for the both of them, for him.
Click was the sound that Michonne heard next. It was startling because she was aroused and based on Mr. Grimes lack of breathing she could tell he just may have had a stroke after all.
...
My heart was doing somersaults, cartwheels, and my feet were ready to walk over hot coals because Mr. Grimes seemed to be on the other side ready to take my love with his love and have the most glorious union that has yet to make a cinematic debut on any movie screen.
I don't watch a lot of porn. It may be available on large screens for viewing pleasure, but all the dirty things I wanted him to do to me and I to him would soon be coming soon to GO Stop Insurance under his desk or on top of his desk. I had plans; I mean why else was he trying to hold my hand? Reaching for my hand as if I had something to give to him?
Thinking back on it, he wanted me to give him his phone, but I gave him my hand instead. Mr. Grimes wanted more sunscreen, but I gave him my hand while we hiked with his kids discovering treasures. He wanted the key to the RV while we sat by the campfire, I gave him my hand.
Our Thanksgiving spent camping was fun, and I learned quite a bit. One Mr. Grimes dreams about kissing me and two we would have blurred the fuck out of each other in the sleeping bag if Judith would not have been awake, watching, smiling.
Friday came and things were different. He wasn't in search of anything. He reached his hand out while I was in the big comfy captain chair in the Recreational Vehicle after dropping his kids off to his ex-wife Lori and we held hands.
Man hands. Mr. Grimes hadn't shaved, and he was looking rugged and handsome with his tousled curls, blue eyes sheepishly looking over at me on occasion as he drove the rental back to Dale's RVs.
"Are you tired? Do you want me to take you home?" He had asked.
"Do you want me to go home?"
"It's Friday. I know we spent most of Wednesday and all of Thursday together."
"I was there. We did and today is Friday." I confirmed playfully.
"Carl and Judith had a great time. I would have never thought to spend Thanksgiving camping, Michonne."
"I have a list of things you would have never thought of doing, Mr. Grimes." The suggestive tone wasn't lost on him.
"Today is our Movie Night, and I just wanted to know if you still wanted to have a Movie Night? I have Popcorn and the drinks. It's your turn to serve."
"I can serve more than that." I hinted boldly, and I didn't look away when I did, and I watched his expression in his eyes glean my meaning immediately.
We were sitting in his 'I don't want everyone to know how Rich I am top of the line Dodge Ram Pickup truck at Dale's RV. We had already turned in the rental, and we were back to hand holding.
Mr. Grimes was doing something to my fingers, or maybe I was doing something to his that caused him and me to verge on blur. If he had kissed me then, I would have ripped the clothes from his body the best I could and melted into him. Right then and there. I would have torn off my seatbelt and climbed on his lap so help me God. He didn't kiss me.
"Lori is looking forward to us to go to her little party tomorrow. I can't stay long and wanted to make sure we were on the same page as far as if you and I were going there together or separate."
"You are still going on your date?" I braced myself for his answer.
"I have been blowing her off. It's not right. I have led her to believe we were back on two weeks ago and..."
"I have no idea what you are trying to say to me or what you are saying when this topic comes up. It's the strangest thing. I am either blacking out or just going blank."
Michonne tried to figure out what happened two weeks ago. She tried to narrow it down when Mr. Grimes would have had time to entertain someone. She went through her data bank in her mind and came up with possible times, like the time she thought he had a heart attack after their sexual conversation and rushed to his house to find he was gone. He wasn't home.
"You always do that, Michonne. I can't talk to you."
"Not about her. Not about another woman that you are so faithful too but you spend all your time at work, with your kids and me. It leaves too much room for confusion, Mr. Grimes. I am the one you are actually unfaithful to. I am the one that is jilted here. I am the one wearing the winter coat, and you finally offered me gloves for my hands to indicate that I possibly might have a chance out of the chilly Friend Zone. Sorry, if I don't give two shits about this make-believe relationship that you have fooled yourself into dreaming yourself in just because you say you are when it is convenient for you."
I tried to remove my hand from his, but he held tight.
"Why are you holding my hand, Mr. Grimes?"
"I have absolutely no idea how we began this, but I am okay with it Michonne if you can control that thing that you do. I have to take care of stuff with the other person." Mr. Grimes insisted.
"How serious are you or were you with this other person? I am perplexed."
"Not serious for marriage."
"Help me understand this relationship that you still firmly believe that you have been faithful to when you are holding my hand, spending majority your time with me."
"I can't."
...