"God, how we get our fingers in each other's clay. That's friendship, each playing the potter to see what shapes we can make of each other."
― Ray Bradbury, Something Wicked This Way Comes

"Michonne?"

Tyrese was stunned to find me standing in the driveway anticipating his arrival, in such disarray. The black socks on my feet were a dead giveaway.

"Tyrese! I need my suitcases."

"Bigmama wants to know what in the hell you're doing with this white man? How do you know him, Michonne?"

I wasn't expecting a verbal confrontation from my brother Tyrese who could easily be overheard with me standing on the driver side of his black Dodge Charger. He was pissed.

My response was centering around two suitcases and my purse. Nothing else really mattered in my mind while Tyrese continued.

"I have no idea how many cards shy you are from playing with a full deck, Michonne. I am your brother. What's going on?"

"I'm coping," I replied quietly. The sensation of my skin crawling had to be placed in the back of my mind. I was so itchy.

"How do you know him?" Tyrese asked.

"Doesn't matter," I replied shrugging my shoulders.

"How long have you known him?" Tyrese was persistent.

"Doesn't matter," I repeated.

"2 months?"

"No," I stated.

"6 months?"

"No."

"More than 6 but less than 12?"

"No."

"You were fucking around with a married man while you were married Michonne?" Tyrese quickly deduced.

"Please don't tell Bigmama."

"What the hell..."

"Please don't tell Bigmama." I pleaded.

The silence from my brother increased my already racing heart for just a millisecond before it began to pound relentlessly. Tyrese placed my thoughts from needing my suitcases to cope with how best to conceal details from Bigmama to remain in her good graces.

"He left his wife for you?" Tyrese asked.

"Yes," I admitted.

"You left Mike for him?"

"Yes."

"Was it in Japan you went Batshit crazy or back here in the States you've gone completely fucking nuts?"

My brother was trying to find clarity on whether this was a compulsive episode I was having or if I wasn't even lucid. Tyrese eyed me from his driver's side window and then back at Rick who was standing barefoot in the doorway giving Tyrese a steely stare.

Rick was watching our interaction while his kids were playing in the living room window fogging up the glass with their hot breath.

"Did you bring my suitcases or not?" I couldn't look at my brother in the eyes. I wasn't feeling well.

"If you were on the nutty ward on the fifth floor of Baptist General hospital...yes. But for you to move in to this home with this man, you got another thing coming. I should take off right now and leave you in the very clothes you have on. I can't wait to tell Bigmama this man-of all the men in the world, he got you outside in black socks."

"I know I have to get them off my feet. I couldn't come outside with nothing Tyrese. I need my suitcases, Tyrese. Please stop fucking with me."

"What are you doing Michonne?" Tyrese pressed for sound reasoning behind my actions.

"I am trying to cope. I don't have my pills, and you are getting me agitated, Ty."

My brother knew I meant business when I shortened his name. It wasn't the other way around when I said his full name.

"Do you even know how you look? How you are dressed right now?"

"That is why I called you to bring my suitcases, Ty. I can't wear PJs after 8:30am."

"Michonne it is after 12pm." I don't know why my brother thought to inform me of the time was going to help my situation. He was making it worse.

"I know! Now give me my GODDAMN suitcases before I really lose my mind. I am out here with fricking black socks and PJs after 8:30am, and I am really trying to not hyperventilate. Please give me my suitcases."

"In the trunk. I ain't getting out the car to help you with shit." Tyrese punched the dashboard.

I could hear the lock mechanism on the car trunk and immediately made my way to my lifeline.

"Oh my God." Relief washed over me as I struggled to pull each suitcase that had my highly organized crammed items that I would not be able to live without. If Tyrese had delayed another second, I would have died for sure.

"What the hell is he standing in the doorway for, looking over here?" Tyrese asked annoyed.

"Keep your voice down." I scolded dragging my suitcases with my purse on my shoulder.

"He better be glad he is a deputy sheriff because I would stomp his ass for getting Bigmama upset and tearing the screen door off. He better be glad." Tyrese spoke loud enough for Rick to hear.

"Leave, Tyrese."

"What the hell you want me to tell Bigmama?" My brother was completely stumped.

"Tell her I am trying to cope. I am trying to cope."

"You are nuttier than peanut butter."

Tyrese took off down the street.

Rick came out of the house to help me carry my bags inside of his home. I followed barely unable to take my eyes off the black socks I wore on my feet until I stood inside the small foyer where I had to remove them before proceeding any farther.

"You've come back?" Jude asked me jumping happily off of the couch to stand in front of me.

I didn't know how to respond to the obvious.

"We thought you were going to leave." Carl moved Judith aside.

"No. I am here."

"Dad wasn't sure if you were going to change your mind and just leave. We asked him if you were leaving, but he said he wasn't sure." Carl moved the hair from his eye to peer up at me with his father's shade of blues.

I blinked, and the next thing I was aware of was being at the grocery store with Rick and his children. I must have gone into a functioning Catatonic state at some point. Sometimes I would lose a sense of time and wonder how I got to places, like just then.

Rick was pushing the grocery cart while I found soap. Liquid soap. The antibacterial sweetly scented were on sale. I wanted them, and Rick purchased them all without hesitation along with almond milk and some inexpensive placemats.

I was startled when out of nowhere Rick kissed me again. This time I felt something until I heard the sound of his kids running towards us.

Carl carried the last bag containing soap from the trunk when he asked me a question.

"Why did you need to buy so much soap?" Carl asked me pausing in the garage.

I had closed the trunk after ensuring it was empty. I had two bags of my own that I was carrying. I stood in the garage not understanding what was so unusual about having 20 bottles of liquid soap.

"I take lots of showers. Baths too when I have a tub that I don't share with a shower."

"Don't they all come like that. Shower and tub together?"

"They don't. You have to request it sometimes when you have a new house, or you get it installed that way. Separate. I like taking showers."

"You take lots of showers because you don't know if you are dirty, I bet."

I froze in place wanting to understand this boy and what he was implying. I could appreciate his candor and was prepared to be very candid.

"Carl!"

Rick's tone was a warning to his son who wasn't phased. It didn't take rocket science to realize this family functioned best by speaking direct and in simple terms.

Rick had to keep an eye on Judith who was insistent on having a glass of almond milk, or she was going to die if not kill our eardrums with her excessive whining at an octave to wear anyone's patience.

"Why would I wait until I was dirty to take showers? I can't even imagine doing that."

I questioned the young boy that looked like a younger version of his father.

"Well, it's easy to tell when we are dirty."

"How is that?"

"We play outside. We only take showers then."

"You don't itch?" I asked in utter amazement at what I was hearing.

"Maybe if we miss three days straight. I suppose we would be itchy. Sometimes mom doesn't care unless we played in the dirt."

I dropped the bags of soap at my feet on the garage floor. I was utterly disturbed by the story Carl was revealing about their hygiene ritual.

I couldn't confirm any of it with Rick who was in the kitchen with Judith.

"Your skin color, you wouldn't know that you were dirty, so you take showers just in case?"

I said every word slowly to this boy named Carl. I wanted him to hear me clearly as I enunciated.

"I take showers because I am quite sure I would lose my mind if I don't. My sanity is based on cleanliness. I can't imagine being on the brink of madness."

Carl challenged, "I am quite sure you would survive. Judith and I have. We didn't go crazy while it was happening. You probably really don't know when you are dirty."

"I think two things are going on with what you are saying to me and as a child, I shouldn't expect you to clarify your meaning. I will settle the first."

I reached down and took some dirt from around the bottom of a bush nearest the garage and rubbed it on my skin.

"See the difference? That is dirty. I would never ever let myself get to that...until now."

I hesitated. I felt like I just gave myself a case of ringworms in that very spot.

"My skin does not match the color of dirt, and I would not allow it to blend into my skin to the point of not knowing the difference. Should I shower less, maybe so, but I don't want to wait until I am dirty to do so and neither should you."

"What if you were in a Zombie apocalypse and there wasn't any running water, and you were out on the road for days at a time, what would happen to you then?"

"I think I would go stark raving mad. I would have to give myself to the zombies."

"Coward move."

Carl proceeded into the house. I could see from where I stood that he kicked off his shoes and placed his bags with the others.

A few seconds later Rick had to come out into the garage to help me. The dirt on my skin had me frozen. I was going to have an episode, but Rick rescued me by scooping me up like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder, slipping off my shoes as we entered.

Rick instructed his son, Carl to finish putting things away while he took me into the bathroom closing the door behind us.

Rick slowly undressed me. My mind silenced. It took a mere few seconds for him to peel away my layers, creating a heap at my feet. His eyes roamed every inch of me, and for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me again, but instead, he fell to his knees and stayed there for a few seconds, the side of his face pressed into my pelvis.

I felt dizzy and the sound of Honeybees buzzed softly in the back of my mind. Rick's ability to make me feel as if everything would be alright was uncanny.

He has been the only one I had ever met who had accepted all of my flaws as they presented themselves during our time together.

Without any warning, Rick stood to his feet and turned the shower on for me. I stepped in, and he quickly stepped out of the bathroom to monitor his kids who were in the kitchen.

A/N: 02/10/2019 1:58pm Updated with corrections.

Original Author Notes:
A/N: I am back on this! Thanks for the encouragement to continue to write. Greatly appreciated. Each and every one of you! Thank you!