Happy belated Valentine's Day.
February comes in like the storm after the storm with an icy wind that feels as though it is blistering their skin as it whips around them. They bury their faces in their scarves and the collars of their coats to protect their aching cheeks and chapped lips from further abuse. Sitting three-long and shoulder-to-shoulder in the back of the Suburban, Lori, Carol, and Beth share a blanket and body heat. In the middle Beth reads a worn copy of Little Women, her expression absorbed and dreamy as her blue eyes flick over the words.
Carol and Lori mostly occupy themselves by gazing out the frosty windows at the passing scenery: sunless dense forests, small ghost-towns, long rolling farms buried beneath white dust. In the front seat Carl sleeps stretched out across the bench seat, his head tucked into Rick's side, and Lori eyes his excess legroom with some mild envy. She'd opted to take the backseat to give him some room to sleep, but she hadn't been expecting her back and hips to protest quite so much.
Sighing, she slides down in her seat, her knees digging into the back of Rick's chair. In the rear-view mirror she sees a flash of blue and looks up to find her husband's eyes on her. She lets her gaze linger for a moment, attached to his with an invisible connection that sends a pang of longing and sadness through her; they haven't spoken in months.
"Hm," Beth hums beside her, drawing her attention away from Rick's to the young girl. "It's Valentine's Day," she chirps, turning her page.
Carol's interest peaks and she turns in her seat to inspect Beth's profile. "How do you know?" she asks with an air of scepticism.
Beth's pretty features flush and she lifts one shoulder. "I guess I don't really," she closes her book and sets it on her lap. "But why shouldn't it be? It must be at least February by now," she reasons.
Lori considers her words, her hand finding her belly buried underneath the blanket and a few layers of clothes. The baby is still low, settled between her hip bones and she figures that she is around five months, so February could work. Retracting her hand, Lori slides her arm around Beth and presses a kiss to her temple. "Happy Valentine's day," she smiles and Beth's head moves to rest against her shoulder.
Leaning back, the teen moves with her until they are both comfortably reclined, Lori's back resting against the door. Looking down she find Beth smiling softly, her hands folded under her cheek. "I can feel the baby kicking," she mutters, her eyes drifting closed.
Smoothing the girl's hair back Lori nods and lifts her eyes to find Rick's on her again.
"Maybe he's hoping for some chocolate," Carol rests her chin on her hand, her elbow propped up against the door, and turns her attention back to the window.
"Maybe," Lori ventures carefully, not sure how her recently reformed, highly serious husband feels about their nonsense conversation. His eyes have moves back to the road and she feels a familiar ache start to tighten her chest.
XXXX
When they pull over to check a roadside gas station to check for fuel, Lori hugs the side of the vehicle, keeping her eyes trained on the seemingly empty vicinity. She can see a few Walkers ambling in the distance but they pose no immediate threat. A loud crash followed by shattering glass makes her jump and she whips around to see Glenn offering a scowling Daryl a sheepish look as Maggie takes a crowbar from hands. Carl is the first to step over the full-length window frame and she shoots Glenn an apprehensive look rather than trying to call her son back herself. Glenn catches her look and reaches out, snagging the back of Carl's coat, holding him in place.
Maggie and T' slip around the boy who is giving lip that she can't hear and isn't sure she wants to – he'd become bitter, angry, and almost impossible to deal with.
He follows the rest of the group inside when Maggie comes back to collect them and Lori decides to check out the store as well. She collect what is left of the miscellaneous aisle: batteries, bungee cords, flashlights, Tylenol… Once she is finished she heads to the non-perishables to find that Carl has cleaned out whatever was left. As he passes her to head out of the store she catches his shoulder and he tolerates her quick hug and the kiss her presses to the top of his head.
Alone in the store, she heads to the bathroom and presses her ear to the door in case the others hadn't cleared it. Hearing nothing, she slips inside and takes advantage of the relatively clean toilet. It doesn't flush, but it's better than going outside and freezing her butt off – literally.
She passes Rick in one of the aisles, and then Daryl - who is breaking into the cigarette case – on her way out. Sighing, she slides into the back of the car again with Carol and Beth.
XXXX
They don't drive for long before Rick decides they will spend the night in church. There is a sunken door off the parking lot that leads them down a narrow hall and into a gymnasium with a stage off the far wall. Lori and Carol immediately head to the kitchen and check the stoves, sighing with relief when they are gas.
There are blue play-mats stored under the stage and Daryl rips down the large curtains and tosses them into a pile on the floor to provide extra warmth and padding. Lori drops her pillow and blanket closest to the door so that she can have easy access to the back room where they have established will be the bathroom.
Dinner is canned ravioli and crackers. Lori knows that at one time she would have cringed at the sodium levels on the label, but tonight she can't eat it fast enough. She catches Daryl watching her and she knows it must be bad if he thinks she is making a pig off herself. Lifting a shoulder, she smoothes a hand over her belly and keeps her eyes on her bowl. Her embarrassment is nothing compared to her hunger.
They turn in after eating and Lori excuses herself to use the bathroom again. The lanterns have been dimmed and the room is quiet except for Daryl and Rick counting ammo on the stage, their voices hushed as they speak in low tones. As she gets to her knees by her blanket she locates Carl on his side, his back to her, apparently already asleep.
Laying down she is surprised by and unexpected something on her pillow that is cold and hard against her cheek. Lifting her head, she fumbles for it and holds it up to squint at it in the dark; a chocolate kiss. Frowning, she searches her pillow and locates another half-dozen of the tin-foil wrapped chocolate cones. A smile creeps across her face as she sets them to the side and rolls closer to Beth who has taken the spot next to her. The teenager turns over when she is prompted by Lori's hand on her shoulder, making a sleepy sound of inquiry.
"Thank you, sweetie," Lori pats her arm. "Go back to sleep."
"For what?" Beth asks after a moment, her brow furrowing as she turns over to face Lori.
Lori picks up one of the chocolates to show her, offering her an appreciative smile.
"I didn't-," Beth's brow furrows as she reaches out to take the chocolate. She looks confused for a moment before her face splits into a grin. "You have a secret valentine," the girl teases, laying down on her pillow without returning the kiss.
"You really didn't…?" Lori feels compelled to check once more, baffled.
Beth pops the unwrapped chocolate into her mouth and shakes her head, her eyes conveying innocence in the matter. "Do you think he…" she lifted her head again, her eyes dancing with young romanticism that is infectious and spreads quickly to Lori.
Together, she look in Rick's direction.
Laying back down on her pillow, Lori stares at the ceiling. "Maybe Carol… or Carl," she suggests, not ready to explore the possibility that Rick had been responsible, and what that could mean.
"Maybe," Beth concedes, though her voice is thick with doubt.
The girl falls asleep not long after, leaving Lori to her thoughts until her own exhaustion takes her away. She falls asleep, unable to suppress the small smile that twitches at the corners of her mouth, or the way her heart flutters each time her thinks of the chocolates sitting beside her bed.
Maybe things would work out after all.
