A/N: I'm glad you all survived that last chapter. #karma #noremorse LOL
This is a single chapter update, but I hope I made it good for you.
Love you guys.
~comewithnattah
Florence had taken ill after the reception. The February air was even more frigid at the higher elevation of the horse ranch Deanna owned and the icy temperatures aggravated Florence's arthritis. Apparently, she had nothing on old man winter when it came to cold bitterness. She had another day and night at the hotel but Michonne had insisted her mother-in-law stay in town, so she could be looked after until she recovered.
But, even if Carl had stayed with Tyreese and Noah, like Michonne's brother offered, Florence wouldn't have been able to climb up into her grandson's loft bed. With all the excitement of his upcoming nuptials, Rick hadn't thought about Lori once since she'd been gone. Carl was there with him and Michonne, and everything seemed... settled and Lori's absence seemed… right. But now he couldn't help but wonder about why the hell she wasn't back from her vacation with her boyfriend yet, especially since Florence would have definitely preferred to stay with her son's ex-wife if she could have.
Instead Florence's lonesome state was stressing out Michonne's tender heart. Regardless of her miserable affiliation with the notorious faultfinder, she felt it was a dereliction of duty on her part as Rick's wife that all she could offer his mother was a pull-out couch. Michonne also attempted to feel bad about being so picky on her house hunt… but the place she established as a home for her husband and children had to be just so or she would go full American Psycho. So she didn't feel one iota of guilt for dismissing all the properties Jessie had shown her or upping the price point or adding to her wish list.
Against Rick's better judgment and promise to himself not to feed into what he was sure was another one of his ex-wife's temper tantrums, he had Eugene investigate her whereabouts just to make sure she was okay. Porter was a godsend as far as Rick was concerned and he put the cyber-surveillance sorcerer to full use instead of reaching out to the skinny little whacko personally. Eugene tracked Lori and Negan like a digital bloodhound through software, hard drives and firewalls. Finding her time-stamped video image in multiple locations around Jeddah, Giza, Istanbul, Cairo, Rick's 'Nerd of all things net' informed him that she was alive and well, exactly where she said she'd be.
The news that she arrived in Saudi Arabia safely, relieved and infuriated him at the same time. But when Eugene emailed Rick documentation that she had actually married Negan without even calling to tell Carl, he decided that was the last straw. Dealing with Lori stemmed solely from his efforts to set a good example for Carl, an example that he now believed would be better taught by his love of Michonne as opposed to his toleration of Lori. He was going to let her live her life in the desert with her version of prince charming while he focused on being that and more for Michonne. He just hoped that his son would forget about her as easily as she seemed to forget about him.
Florence did a good job of hiding how disappointed she was in Lori. She felt that her ex-daughter-in-law's behavior sullied her name as well, given her constant support of her. But Florence refused to acknowledge the damning proof of Lori's absence more than a month after she was expected to return. Really, there was nothing she could say to defend her leaving her only child to run off with a guy she barely knew. Though Lori's level of selfishness was a shock at first, Florence had to admit it wasn't a surprise. In the face of Shane's kindness- offering he and Andrea's guest room to her while her achy joints recovered, Florence had to re-evaluate her attitude toward this part of Rick's life.
One attitude that remained firmly set was Andrea's. Michonne's best friend disliked Florence ever since Michonne told her how things went when she and Rick made the trip to meet her. The grudge-holder of Michonne's inner circle wanted to put the geriatric grouch up in a motel and call it a day. But with Shane leaning to his sister's frame of mind to kill the bitter old shrew with kindness, Andrea folded. She gave in to her husband with the expressed promise that if Florence Grimes so much as blinked her eyes wrong in their house, she wouldn't have a second thought about putting the old lady out on the curb with recycling.
Andrea kept herself busier than usual at work to avoid having to entertain the notorious curmudgeon, but Shane was pleasantly surprised at his knack for elder care. His deep southern charm with all the 'yes ma'ams' and the 'bless your hearts' and the old bible belt dribble that he'd forgotten he spoke so fluently. If he was honest, he enjoyed talking to Rick's mom. She reminded him of his own. Not in every way, but the more seasoned niceties were markedly different from Maggie's modernized sweetness.
Shane spent these past mornings making Florence breakfast and setting her up with their remote control while he worked. And when he needed a break from writing he'd pop in and watch one of the day-time judges on TV that Florence seemed to live vicariously through. When she wasn't judging and throwing the book at dysfunctional defendants, Florence got a kick out of Shane as he recounted his childhood stories … the best ones always included Michonne.
"For my birthday one year, Mimi knew I wanted a dog. So, I come in my room one day, an' there's this big ol' dog on my bed…" Shane gestured with his arms wide. "He had to be 40 lbs!"
"Oh, goodness!" Florence jumped into a giggle. As Shane poured her a little more tea from his seat in the club chair by her bed where she sat comfortably in the lemon and cream-colored bedding of Andrea's well-appointed turquoise-painted guest room. The show on the TV had been paused for about 20 minutes while the two chatted convivially. "How'd that child get such a big dog in the house… and stray at that! He could have been rabid!" She said covering her mouth, aghast as she accepted the saucered teacup from her host's hand.
"No, not rabbit. A dog." He joked with a charming grin, lifting the lid off the teapot playfully pretending to sniff its contents for anything like liquor. "We still drinkin' tea ain't we?"
"Oh, hush!" she waved off his joke. "Now, come on. Strays can be dangerous. It's a wonder she wasn't bit." She took a sip of her cup.
"Ev'rybody and ev'rythang loves my sister." Shane took a bite of BLT and continued with one cheek full of sandwich. "You can see that, Florence." They were on a first name basis with each other and Mrs. Grimes was enjoying herself, but she wasn't ready to admit any love of Michonne. Though, in front of her new friend, Shane, she would never be as unreceptive to the woman's name as she had been to the woman herself. A quiet hum into her green tea was the only response she gave him. But Shane noticed over the napkin he was using to wipe his mouth, that Michonne was not exaggerating about Florence's attitude toward her. Shane was determined to fix that for his sister though. "Actually, how she got Biscuit in there is the best part of the story."
"You named him Biscuit?"
"He was kinda this off-color o' white… yellowish, with crusty brown patches of dried dirt. He looked a lot like a biscuit." Florence sneered in disgust at the thought and laughed at the unbelievable ease that all kids find their way into mischief. "So, all that evenin' we were in my room playin' with Biscuit, which really only amounted to pettin' him 'cause he never got off my bed. He's layin' their pantin' and shakin'. He won't stop shaking and his breath was brutal! So Mimi, gets him one of her blankets to warm him up and then we decided to share my toothbrush so Biscuit can have her's."
"Oh, no! Ew!"
Shane laughed, "So we're feedin' my man, Biscuit, bologna from the fridge… sneaking cookies from the pantry. Morgan had meatloaf for dinner that night and a'course we brought Biscuit some in a napkin. We hid'em in my closet when it was time for Morgan to tuck us in that night. But as soon as he left, Michonne came in my room and we both slept on the floor with my not-so new dog. Then in the morning we get up… get ready for school, bring'em bacon from breakfast, close'em up in my room run out… head to school… when we get back home that afternoon..."
"Oh no…" Florence winced in anticipation of everything that could've have gone wrong. "Did he wreck your room?"
"Nope. Didn't get up all day, far as I could tell." Shane smirked, knowing the climax of the story was coming. "He was right where we left him… on my bed. Lookin' right at us as we came through the door. We tried to feed him some chicken nuggets we saved him from lunch,but he wouldn't eat. Then Michonne picked him up and his whole body fell to the side, slumped over. He was gone. Dead as a doornail. Died while we were at school."
"Oh, my word!"
"So now, we gotta tell Morgan. Cause we don't know what to do with a dead dog!" Shane explained with big gestures, "So Morgan comes in he shocked and confused, like 'There's a dog in my house!'. He's holdin' Michonne, she's hysterical. I'm beggin' him to do CPR on Biscuit…" Shane laughs, trying to convey the chaos of that moment. Some of the other kids that were livin' there at the time hear Morgan screamin' about a dog and they start tryin' to push into my room all excited about gettin' a dog."
"This is insane!"
"I know!" Shane agreed with Florence. "Morgan checks the dog out and it turns out he must've been hit by a car or somethin'. He was paralyzed, back legs didn't work at all. Which would've been sad enough, but Morgan also felt a big… massive… like boot-sized tumor in his neck from God knows what. So, buddy boy Biscuit was on his way out 'fore Mimi found 'em anyway. We gave him a funeral in our backyard and me and my brother, who didn't even know about Biscuit, sang "Hallelujah", off-key. Mimi made us. She made us get dressed up too."
"I'll bet you guys were awful cute."
"We were cute 'til we started scratchin' ourselves raw from the flea bites. They were just a hoppin' and bitin' after they jumped ship from Biscuits old rottin' carcass."
"Oh, for heaven's sakes!" Florence exclaimed with exasperation.
"I think I got a picture 'round here somewhere." Shane stood up and went to the closet of the room, found a decorative box on the shelf and pulled it down. "Yeah," he sighed thinking fondly of that day, "wherever old Biscuit is, I'm sure he's grateful to my sister for making his last day on earth his best day." Taking his seat again with Florence's full attention on his every move, he opened the box in his lap and took out a handful of old 4x6's photos. He shuffled the top picture to the back over and over until he found the one he was looking for.
The day was sunny. Green grass grew taller than it should have under their church shoes. Morgan's old white and woodgrain station wagon sat in the background and Shane grew wistful as he remembered riding with his kind-hearted foster father. He was wishing he could've had one more day with the man. But he choked back those tears in favor of a smile, taking in the image of his chubby, curly-headed 11-year-old self.
He wondered if Andrea was carrying a son and if he could be half the father to his own child that Morgan had been to a scared little white boy, to a big angry teenager, to a full-grown drug-addicted inmate. Or maybe he'd be able to father a daughter and teach her how a man should treat a woman. He would teach her how to take care of herself, so she could avoid the kind of life and death his mother endured. He always believed his mother guided him to Morgan's house from her place in heaven. And now he believed that they were getting everything they wanted because Morgan was up there now, pulling strings too.
The picture reminded him how he'd held Michonne, sobbing, buried against his chest. His arm in his unbuttoned sleeve was hooked around her shoulders in comfort. She stood there in a purple floral print lace dress and frilly socks. Tyreese was in a bow tie, stationed on Shane's other side holding a bouquet of wildflowers over the hole in the ground that became Biscuit's final resting place. Simon, Eli, Olivia and one other kid whose name escaped nostalgia, were there paying their insincere respects. But he and Tyreese looked so forlorn and he remembered it was more for Michonne's sorrow than the loss of their 24-hour pet. Shane had to admit to himself as he handed the snapshot over to Rick's mom, it was the cutest scene.
"Where's your other sister?" She asked, after smiling adoringly at the picture. "The one with all the kids."
"Yeah, Sasha." He reminded the woman of his oldest sister's name. "She wasn't with us yet. And thank God for that," he said with a relieved chuckle, "Morgan woulda had to bury me and Mimi beside Biscuit if her mean ass woulda got one flea bite because of us!"
The older Mrs. Grimes and Shane sat for a good while longer, pouring over the box of pictures. Her funny host kept her grinning as he gave her a story for every new scene he passed to her.
Stories of Michonne's fledgling artwork. Stories of Michonne's doll collection that she treated like real babies, long after other girls her age moved on to more mature pastimes. She got teased a lot by Sasha for playing house with cabbage patch kids and Shane love the irony that, when they got older, Sasha and Abraham were the ones who kept red-headed cabbage after little red-headed cabbage coming into the world.
Florence found that looking beyond the vixen in the hip-hugging jeans to see the little girl that she had been had begun to melt her sneer into a smile. Despite herself she realized she wanted to know more about the brown-eyed chocolate kid with a big bright smile, who always seemed to be helping everyone while also making a right mess of things in the process. Florence could see Michonne's big heart and it started to dawn on her why her son was so smitten.
"Let me ask you, Shane. Without any pre-judgements," she made inquiry to her daughter-in-law's brother. "You think this thang with your sister and my son'll last? They're so diff'rent. Hard to imagine they want the same thangs outta life. I mean once the fun starts to wane…"
"I had a time comin' to terms with their relationship, too." Shane nodded. "Maybe you know, I was datin' Rick's ex for a bit?"
"Yes. She mentioned it." Florence admitted, keeping the details Lori had given about Shane, to herself. After days with the man, she found Lori's eventual characterization of Shane as an ignorant jailbird with no prospects completely incorrect. But what she heard next nearly dropped her jaw.
"Lori told me Rick used to hit 'er."
"She said what?!" Rick was never her favorite, but she knew how she raised him. Despite the violence of his profession, she knew his anger was always controlled. His daddy was the same way.
"Yeah. I don't know her reasons for tellin' that lie. Now that I look back, you'll forgive me for sayin', but I think that girl was pathological. And I was a fool. I was so caught up worryin' about my sister, I didn't even question what Lori said... I couldn't stomach even bein' in the same room with him. I lost my mother to a woman beater."
"I'm so sorry, Shane." Florence said sincerely. "What was your momma's name?"
"Judith Walsh-Mallet."
"I went to school with a Judith Walsh." Florence noted the coincidence and her mouth went dry with an unsettling trepidation as she inquired further, "She was younger than me. I knew her sisters better. Did your mom have sisters? Abigail and Marilyn?"
Shane's eye went wide, "She did! Last time I saw either of 'em I was just a little anklebiter. Don't keep in touch with Aunt Abbi and Aunt Lyndi, that's what we called Marilyn, she died before momma did. Didn't never see her much. She was a singer, I think. Always on the road."
"Yes. She was." Florence whispered as her mind raced to make connections from Shane's past to her own. She would've called it impossible for Marilyn's name to come up in a conversation with her new daughter-in-law's adoptive brother. She struggled to stay in the present, listening to Shane as he went on to tell about another shocking mess that Lori had made.
"I tried hard to protect my sister from Rick. I really thought he was a threat. Didn't have nothin' to go on 'cept Lori's word. But, you know what Florence?" Florence looked Shane in his eyes, now hanging on his every word. "I spent Thanksgivin' with 'em. I wasn't gonna go, but I decided I needed to see what kind of person Rick really was and be there for Mimi in case he really was the monster I was so ready to believe he was. And you know what?"
"What?"
'I saw who he really was… with his friends, with my family, but mainly with Mimi. I saw how much he loved 'er. He loves 'er like I do, but he loves 'er more. I didn't think it was possible. Wasn't nothin' he said or nothin' specific he did. Can't really explain it too good with words. I just saw the way he looked at 'er. I saw his love for 'er with my own eyes and I knew, he was the guy for my sister.
Florence knew the look Shane described. It was a look she saw in her own husband's eyes… when he looked at another woman. A woman who was nothing like her and a lot like Michonne. A woman her oldest son's blue eyes would never let her forget. A woman to whom Shane was, unbelievably, connected. Like Shane with Rick, Florence's past heartache pit her against Michonne, though the love of her son's life had never done anything to earn that kind of suspicion. She wondered if she was a big enough woman to see Michonne for herself without comparing her to a long dead rival. Could she do a better job in hiding her jealousy in dealing with an innocent Michonne than she had in her regretful treatment of the innocent little boy she raised?
….
"Morning Florence."
"Hey, Shane. Morning, Gram."
Michonne and Carl shouted greetings to Rick's mom as she slowly ambled out of Shane and Andrea's house. Shane jogged up behind her and held her elbow as she gingerly took the two steps from the stoop to the walkway. Carl hustled up to get his grandma's bag from the foyer as Michonne climbed out of the driver's seat of Rick's big Suburban truck with her growing belly in tow. She mosied at about the same speed as her elderly mother-in-law.
Michonne opened the back hatch and pushed aside a few things to make room for Florence's bags. Rick's mom had enjoyed her stay more than expected, growing fond of her host, she wanted to get home before she became a bother. The weather forecast was threatening snow and she didn't want to be stranded. Michonne was not looking forward to this trip without Rick, but she didn't want her husband to make the long drive tomorrow after he came home from days of an usually stressful job. So, she was grateful she had Carl and her brother as a buffer between her and the other Mrs. Grimes.
Michonne was caught off guard when Rick's mom came up and pulled her into an unexpected hug.
"Thanks so much for the ride back home, dear." Florence said with a genuine smile, stroking Michonne's arm. The woman patted her protruding belly. "You sure you're up to it? Steak and Eggs won't fret such a long trip?"
"It's Relish and Steak, Gram." Carl corrected her nonchalantly as he hauled her bags into the bed of the SUV and Michonne turned from Florence to help him situate the luggage.
"Sorry. Yes. Relish and Steak. I don't want my grandbabies or my daughter-in-law to be uncomfortable."
Michonne and Carl shared a private look of confusion over the small suitcases before them. Neither of them had ever heard Florence Grimes acknowledge the babies or Michonne for that matter. She certainly never seemed willing to claim anything about this marriage or the family her son was making. Before Michonne could shake off her shock and respond, Shane appeared after locking up his house.
"Florence, did I hear you call shotgun?" Shane said with a plotting grin as he helped his new buddy to the front passenger side. He and Florence had an unspoken agreement to find her a way into Michonne's good graces after all these months of standoffish behavior, that the widow Grimes had to admit was all her doing. But she was willing to try. She'd had a change of heart and was truly contrite.
Michonne for her part continued dumbstruck in the driver's seat. She gave her brother an eye that betrayed her confusion as he jogged over to her and gave her an arm to climb up in the cab.
"M-" Carl caught himself before 'mom' passed his lips in his grandmother's presence. The young man had been calling Michonne, mom ever since the reception, like someone had given him the free and clear title to a black mom. He hollered, whispered and whined 'mom' whenever he and Michonne were together. He even took a page from her book and changed his contact picture in her phone to him displaying a big toothy grin and a word bubble that said: 'My mom is better than yours'. But he didn't think his grandmother would appreciate the change in designation, "Michonne bought everybody coffee." Carl said handing out the to-go cups of the welcome hot beverage on such a cold day.
"I already knew!" Shane said happily, accepting a cup from his fellow back-seater, "You got doughnuts?"
"Of course, Bubba." Michonne passed the already diminished number of doughy treats back for her brother to distribute. "What kind do you like Florence? There's a variety there."
"Oh, Thank you, Michonne. That's very thoughtful." Florence said after a sip of her coffee. "Mmm. That's good! Hmm, let's see. Are there any crullers?"
"Yep. That's the best thing about road trips with Mimi," Shane informed Carl and his grandma as he passed her a doughnut in a napkin, "It's all about the snacks and…"
Just then, Michonne turned the ignition and the speakers blared with the song she and Carl had been banging out to at full volume, Lil' Wayne's '6 Foot 7',
Paper chaser, tell that paper look I'm right behind ya
Bitch, real G's move in silence like lasagna
The sudden powerful racket nearly made Florence drop her coffee as Shane finished his sentence, "... music."
Carl giggled in the backseat and Michonne covered her mouth in embarrassment as she jumped to turn down the stereo. "Sorry, Florence." She looked straight ahead as she put the car in drive, not wanting to see the usual balled up expression return to her mother-in-law's face.
"Oh, don't worry about it, dear." Florence said to Michonne's surprise, as she dropped her drink in the cupholder and used her fingers to tuck any stray curls of her salt and pepper hair back into place. "Was that Jay-Z and Beyoncé?"
"It's Lil' Wayne, Gram." Carl corrected through the mouthful of doughnut he was working on.
"No. It's okay, Florence." Michonne insisted. "We'll play something more appropriate." She said as she switched to the bluegrass album that 'Sweetheart Darling of Mine' originated from. The female lead voice rang out over a melancholy track and Michonne smiled nervously at Florence looking for her approval of the genre.
"No, really. It's okay, Michonne. Your Little Jay music is fine with me." Florence tried to change the music back, frantically, as though the sound of that folk music burned her ears. She finally pressed the biggest button on the console and effectively turned off the system altogether.
"You know, if you don't mind, we could go for a little while without any music." she said collecting her composure, "I'd like to talk to you, get to know you a little better. A few hours' drive seems like the perfect opportunity."
"Okay." Michonne agreed, even as her eyes peeked to her brother and son through the rear-view mirror. She saw Shane pulling out his laptop and Carl putting his earbuds in place. Michonne sank at the feeling that this would be a long trip with Florence in the front seat attempting conversation.
….
"I can't believe Bubba told you that story!" Michonne giggled along with her mother-in-law.
"What?" Shane replied in innocence. "That's a classic Mimi tale."
"Oh, don't fret any, Michonne." Florence patted Michonne's arm. "I have a good number of stories of Rick and Dwight's antics, believe, you, me. I hope you're ready for that level of craziness when those babies get here." Florence casually put Michonne on notice. The older woman was comfortably conversing with the occupants of the car, though Carl had fallen asleep to a Young Money lullaby. It felt good to engage in a tempered version of Michonne's kind of rowdy chinwag. The laughter was all the more heightened by Shane's wicked jokes and the caffeine from a 20 oz. coffee. "I'll never forget the day Everett brought Rick home. The little stinker was just learnin' to walk and he was into ev'rythang. A few months later, I had Dwight… It wasn't the same as having twins, but it sure was overwhelmin'."
Michonne smiled nervously not sure if she'd heard Florence right. She searched for Shane's eyes in the rearview mirror and found him giving her an equally dumbfounded look. "Uh… Florence. I'm gonna do another bathroom break." she said, quickly taking the next exit off the highway. The centrifugal force of the winding road brought Carl out of his slumber and he sat up, pulling out his earbuds and taking in his surroundings. Michonne pulled into a parking spot at the nearest fast food restaurant, "Shane come with me." She spoke pointedly and turned to the older woman beside her, "Florence, would you like anything when I get out?"
"I sure would like it if you called me Mom."
Having missed nearly all the social banter of the car ride thus far, Carl furrowed his brow at his grandmother's request, "What the hell?" he mumbled to himself as Florence reached for Michonne's hand sweetly.
"Okay, tell me you heard the same thing I did, Bubba…" Michonne insisted through a whisper, not looking back as her brother followed her brisk pace into the burger joint. Before he could speak, she continued, "You heard her say when Rick's dad brought him home he was already walking and that she had Dwight a few months later, right? So, what does that mean? Rick's dad brought him home? She didn't bring him home from the hospital, like most mothers… that's what you heard too, right?" Shane opened his mouth to speak but before he could get a word in, his sister continued her ramble as she twisted to hold her bladder, "So is she not Rick's mom? That's what it sounds like, right? Rick never mentioned anything like that to me, ever. Oh shit! What if Florence is not his mom? That would make so much sense! It definitely sounds like she's not. And she's telling me to call her mom? What is really going on? Is she high? Is she senile? What did you do to Rick's mom?"
"Mimi!" Shane whispered urgently and finally got her attention as they stood near the bathrooms in the back of the diner. "Flo is tryin' to be nice. Seems like she had a change of heart. And you're right, from what she said, it also seems like she might not be Rick's mom. But you know how old ladies get. Maybe her words just didn't come out right and she meant somethin' totally different. You wanna interrogate her about it when we get back in the car? A little good cop, bad cop? I get to be Crockett, you can be Tubbs..."
"Bubba! Shut up!" She said, still doing a little tinkle two step. "We're not turning this into an episode of Miami Vice! This is serious…" She slapped her brother's shoulder and his excitement died down, "I have to pee! I can't think straight. Wait here."
….
Emptying her bladder did not help Michonne find a plan of action. Should she ask Florence for an explanation? Should she just tell Rick and let the two of them sort it out? She didn't want to upset Rick if it was just a misunderstanding. What if she found out that this was a secret her husband had been keeping from her? What if after laying her soul bare to him, he hadn't trusted her enough to do the same? And, of course, there was always the real possibility that her pregnancy brain was turning this into a big deal when it really wasn't.
She looked over at Florence, who was resting her eyes, as they reached the last leg of their trip. She and Shane had jabbered themselves into a quiet slumber that Michonne was happy for as the gears in her head turned relentlessly in search of a solution. She took in the older woman's craggy features. If Florence had kept a secret all this time, was it right to force open her hand? Maybe his mother was protecting him from something even more life-altering. She pondered whether she would ever lie to her babies. Would she ever lie to Carl if she knew the truth would hurt him? It was a question she couldn't answer, and it frightened her that she didn't know what to do. Was she ready to be a mother and make hard choices like truth or pain? Was she capable of being what her husband needed if she didn't know exactly what that was?
"Mom?" Carl's voice broke into her worries, calling her in a whisper from the back seat. She turned to see him sit up a little straighter, putting down the book he was reading for school.
"What's up, kid?" she answered him back with a plastered-on smile.
"Are you and Gram cool now?"
"Me and your grandma have always been cool…" She whispered back, twisting her lips and bulging her eyes in a comedic display of sarcasm. "Flo been my A-one since day one."
Carl scoffed, "I just want you to know, you don't have to be fake to get her to like you."
"When am I ever fake?"
"You're not. But Gram makes people that way… I don't know… Lori was like that."
"Lori, your mom?" Michonne stressed with a chuckle and wondered how far Carl was planning to take this erasure of all things Lori.
"Nah, Lori my dad's ex-wife." He said with a deadpan expression that made Michonne laugh to herself again. "She used to act all sweet in front of Gram and then get on the phone with her sister and act like a b-"
"No sir." Michonne stopped him quick before he forced her to switch it up on him. "Be your daddy's son. Say what you're saying like a man, without being disrespectful."
Carl hung his head hearing the seriousness in Michonne's voice. "I'm just saying everybody acts like they're scared of Gram. But me and you can change that. This is our family and if there are people who want to be in it, then they have to download that 'ack-right app'." He whispered forcefully, using another one of his favorite trademarked sayings of hers and pointing to the back of his snoozing grandmother's head.
Call from Zaddy… Call from Zaddy….
The amplified computerized voice coming through the car's bluetooth system interrupted Carl's manifesto, startled Florence out of her sleep and Shane raised a brow briefly to open one eye and then snuggled back into his coat and his sleeping position against the door. Michonne answered Rick's call with a touch of the dashboard's screen.
"Hey, baby." Rick greeted Michonne, his deep voice filling the truck's cab. "You got me on speaker?"
"Hey, handsome. Yeah. We're still driving but we're almost there."
"Can you pull off the road somewhere? I need to speak to you in your office." He said, requesting a private conversation.
"Ok, gimme a sec. There's an exit coming up."
"Okay." Rick turned his attention to the passengers he knew were in the car. "Hey, Carl."
"Hey, dad."
"Mom, You okay? How you feelin?" He asked earnestly after Florence's comfort.
"Oh, I'm fine. It's been a very pleasant ride getting to know Michonne and Shane better."
Florence shouted, leaning closer to the console screen thinking Rick would hear her better.
"Shane, thanks for taking this ride with them, man. I really appreciate it."
"I aint doin' nothin' 'cept sittin' in the back seat getting fat off fast food. Mimi won't let me drive."
Rick smiled at Shane's petulant complaint. He was happy that his brother-in-law was in the car to watch over his family for the trip but even happier that Shane wasn't behind the wheel, driving like a madman. While his wife could border on aggressive in the driver's seat, her current increased maternal instincts made her much more cautious on the road than her brother would have been, and Mr. and Mrs. Rick Grimes had the shared intent to keep Shane in the back with Carl.
"Well, you know she likes to drive but now she can hardly get in and out of her little car." Rick tried to lightened Shane's mood with the mental picture of his petite younger sister and her big baby bump trying to maneuver herself into her sports car's low-riding frame.
Rick's trick to redirect Shane seemed to work as he heard his classic teetering in the background noise of the call. "She needs to go 'head and let me take that sweet little ride off 'er hands. A carseat won't fit in there, let alone two!" Shane pointed out for his sister's benefit.
Instead, he perked Carl's attention, "Nope, Shane. I start driving this year and she already said Black Panther is mine." The young man broke the news, leaving his company in the back seat flabbergasted and disapproving. Michonne caught the look of betrayal and shock on her brother's face in the mirror and laughed.
"Carl never teases me about my belly." She explained with a shrug and then exchanged a fist bum with her white son over her shoulder. Shane was just about to make a solid case for why he should get the car instead of Carl when Florence returned to the ping-ponging conversation,
"Richard, remind me. Who was that little boy that got thrown in the pond full of leeches? I was telling Michonne about some of you and Dwight's devilish misadventures and I can't seem to get that story straight in my head."
Rick went quiet for a moment at his mother's cheery disposition despite being with Michonne. He moved past his confusion when his mother called his name louder for an answer. "That was me, mom."
"You?"
"Yeah. Merle made Daryl help him throw me in that pond to prove his loyalty to his big brother. I still guilt 'em about it to this day."
"It was that Dixon boy!" The memory dawned on Florence clearly, then. "Got so I can't remember a thing." she mumbled to herself in frustration, then reignited her usual choler, "That Merle! He was a natural terror! I still can't believe you hired him on to work with you."
"Sometimes you need to be a natural terror in my line of work, mom."
"Speaking of work, how are things going babe? My sister bossing you around yet?" Michonne asked, tickled at the thought of Rick being Sasha's superior. She hoped her sister was being an asset for her husband and not an adversary.
"Not me." He said, confidently. "She's a soldier. She respects rank, thank God. But I think she's been hurtin' Merle's feelin's. Heard 'er call 'em a 'Tobacco stain on the dress shirt of life'." Rick chuckled. "She's the terror now."
"There's a new sheriff in town." Shane joined in with Rick's amusement at the Sasha/Merle dynamic.
Michonne finally made it to a shopping center parking lot. Florence was now the one who was in dire need of lavatory accommodations. She grunted and groaned as her joints and bones made similar noises. Gradually, she made her way out of the car with Shane's assistance. Michonne took Rick's call privately, holding her belly as one of the twins inside seemed to protest the end of the soothing movement of the car's speed. While she chastised Steak's rebellious nature, she observed that her earlier nervous thoughts were slipping off her shoulders like an ill-fitting spaghetti strap now that she heard her husband's voice.
"Yes, sir?" She used her "Rick Grimes' sexy assistant" voice like she always did when he asked to step into her private cell phone office. "What can I do for you?"
"I miss you." He answered quickly.
Michonne's smile went supernova and she noticed Carl smirking at her obvious reaction to his father's unheard words. "I miss you, too." She said a little quieter for some reason she couldn't explain. "I thought you had something serious to discuss."
"I do." Rick's timbre sobered and Michonne wondered for a split second if everything was okay. "Got a taste for somethin' sweet…" he rasped, and his wife melted, instantly catching his drift.
"Chocolate?" She raised a brow with bold insinuation. Bold enough to alert Carl to the reason this conversation needed to be private. He went running to escape grown folks' business and find Shane and Florence in the nearly vacant strip mall.
Rick sent a moan of approval and anticipation through the phone. "Mmm, Yeah, that creamed-filled chocolate. You got summa that for me when I get back?"
"Yes, I do." She purred as her cheeks started to burn.
She loved getting these phone calls from him, to know he was thinking about her all the time. But she hated them, too. The sound of his deep voice and his wolf-like growls brought her womanhood to life only to wait idly until his return. At the same time, she loved how much she craved him. She'd never felt anything so intense with anyone else. It made her so confident in their extraordinary synthesis, that she softened to mush in her heated leather seats and sighed nonchalantly at the imaginary sound of her pussy screaming for him to come home.
"Yes, you do." He agreed, with a whisper that set her skin aflame and she wrinkled her face, wincing from the heat. He paused long enough to make her squirm. Then he finally spoke, "Got some good news just now…"
"What?" Michonne asked eager to distract herself from the sultry silence with whatever he'd actually called to say.
"They're shutting us down cuzza the weather."
She was too elated to react. She nearly shed a tear. "So, you'll be home when I get back?"
"That's right." he said. "So, I want you to drive safe… but hurry up and bring that pussy to me."
A/N: Guess what happens next...