Rick paced his parking spot, back and forth, with a fluid stride like a hungry shark in a tank. He was in the garage waiting for his "chocolate". He had already waited hours for her to reach their building, he wasn't going to wait for her to ride the elevator to the 14th floor. He wasn't even going to wait for her to get out of the truck. He needed her so badly. The dust colored, darkening sky and the first few fat snowflakes that plummeted through the brisk air had him impatient for the warmth of his wife.
Besides the night they spent on the side of the snowy mountain making love in Deanna's big ranch house, life after their vows had been almost exactly like life before they said I do. Rick and Michonne went to work and Carl went to school. They both agreed that they didn't have the luxury of time to traipse off on international excursions for a honeymoon. Michonne was nearly in her sixth month of pregnancy. She wasn't fit to do any major traveling in her condition and Rick had a lot of work to do getting ready for next month's job.
Michonne had wanted to wait to do a honeymoon somewhere exotic, where a bikini was the dress code. She was willing to wait until she got her baby-less body to reappear, so she could do a bikini justice. Rick loved her in a bikini. Her lower lips were always plump and begging him to pucker up for a kiss. He loved her in her big downy parka, too. He could never keep himself from circling the full apples of her cheeks with his thumbs whenever they were framed by her fur-trimmed hood. The day hadn't started off cold enough for that level of winter wear, but lucky for Michonne, Rick also loved her in her plum colored wool and cashmere poncho. He loved her in those velour cream palazzo pants. He loved the shade of the tawny pink peplum shirt she wore. Michonne had been in those clothes all day and she couldn't wait to get out of them. Rick loved her in anything she put on… and he couldn't wait to take it all off her.
The dark blue truck, decked in chrome, came around the large concrete pillar of the underground garage of their building. She saw him waiting there, one booted foot raised flat like his back against the cinderblock wall and his hands in the pockets of his dark, zippered khaki field jacket. The sight of her wide white smile stirred his manhood and quickened the beat of his heart. The pale beam of the daytime running lights coming from the vehicle illuminated his blue eyes when he looked up, turning them to crystal. A faint upward curve of his lips ghosted across his features then disappeared like it was never there.
The bass from the subwoofer sent little shockwaves from her warm seat to her overheated sex as she sang along loudly to AM. The album was one of the mementos she'd picked up from life with Rick and so, aside from genuinely loving every song on the album, she always thought of her husband when she heard the distinct chords of the guitar. Rick recognized the familiar tune, as she approached, rattling the windows as her siren song.
He had a flashback to the many times he neglected looking at the road to let his eyes linger on the sight of his silly girl lip-synching and dancing happily in the passenger seat. When he drove solo, he liked to use the time to reflect and strategize. But if Michonne was in the car with him, so was music and her adorable pitchy singing.
Right now- now that she was home- he wanted to hear her sing his name to the rhythm he planned to make with his percussion to her dripping, hot canal.
Are there some aces up your sleeve
Have you no idea that you're in deep
I dreamt about you nearly every night this week
How many secrets can you keep?
'Cause there's this tune I found
That makes me think of you somehow
When I play it on repeat
Until I fall asleep
Rick maneuvered himself out of the car's oncoming path into the parking spot and stood near the driver's side door. His wife put the truck in park and turned towards the window still brandishing her bright happy smile. Before she could even crack the door, Rick was pulling it open hastily.
"Hey, Big Pop-"
Her attempt at an enthusiastic greeting was silenced by his own enthusiasm, as his tongue pushed roughly past her lips. His divinely built body leaning over hers confined her back to her seat. She kissed him back through a delighted smile and a smothered giggle when his elbow hit the horn and startled her. Rick didn't flinch. His mind was so focused on the smacking of their lips, he'd barely heard the loud noise echoing off the sub-level walls.
"What's so funny?" He asked her on a hard bite of her bottom lip.
She shook her head, amused at his behavior and giggled even more as he attacked her again. She nuzzled into his soft facial hair. He hadn't shaved since the wedding and his beard was at that perfect length where it didn't scratch or tickle, it just felt like cotton. He smelled especially good, like the snowy atmosphere, and combined with the octane and rubbery scent of tires wafting in the garage, Michonne was lightheaded and floating between her outbursts of giddy snickering and whimpered moans.
"Babe! Your nose is cold. What are you even doing down here?" she asked him above the music, still punching out a steady beat. He rubbed the frozen tip of his nose along her neck, suckling and smothering himself in her warm skin. Michonne moved her hands to cup his face and scratched slowly through his whiskers, breathing him in. She loved him so much.
She could guess the reason he was right there sliding her knees from under the steering wheel to stand between them instead of comfortable upstairs in their apartment. If she had to guess she would say it's the same reason she declined Florence's offer to come inside for a cup of tea once they got the old widow safely home. The same reason she broke down, held her breath and used the gas station bathroom while Shane refueled instead of stopping somewhere cleaner. The same reason Carl was forced to scrounge up second-rate snacks from Exxon's limited cashier's counter instead of waiting in various drive-thru lines for what everybody's individual tastes called for. The same reason she offered Andrea a raincheck to come in and taste her new recipe for meatless stew-
She had to get home to her husband. She wasn't going to wait. So, if she had to guess why he'd been biding his time right where he knew she would land, she'd say it was because he needed to feel her wide ass and her tight pussy as much as she needed to feel his soft lips and rough hands. And she wouldn't make him wait.
"I'm down here cuz you are." he rasped against her ear, pulling open her outerwear to get to her underwear. He slipped his hands inside, traveling from her smooth round belly to her back and splayed his long fingers down and over the voluptuousness she sat on.
Michonne squealed at the feel of his icy hands. "Rick! Your hands are freezing!" she protested, all the while participating willingly as he pulled her closer to his body across the surface of the leather seat.
He didn't respond to her gripe, he just kept ravaging her mouth, her neck… her breasts were harder to get to than he'd like with the top of her shirt having a more structured fit. That didn't stop his big hands from grabbing at them ravenously, squeezing them and biting at her nipples through the fabric. Suddenly, he stopped.
So have you got the guts?
Been wondering if your heart's still open and
If so I wanna know what time it shuts
Simmer down and pucker up
I'm sorry to interrupt
it's just I'm constantly on the cusp
of trying to kiss you
"Okay." Rick stilled his hands and took in the sight of her face, relaxed, chin up, eyes closed, lips plump and parted. He let her go with a tortured grunt and stepped back, leaving Michonne's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Come on. Get in the back." he commanded, directing her with a nod of his head.
One hand stroked his long lucky cock as it moved like a shapeshifter under the denim he wore and the other held her glossy neutral-painted fingers to help her down. Michonne gave him a skittish glance before she scanned her surroundings for people, the height of the truck giving her a view to the deserted space. She took a deep breath and obeyed him. Her velveteen ballet flats hit the cement floor and Rick smirked, always finding her height without her heels adorably precious.
Michonne went to pull open the rear passenger door, but Rick immediately pushed it closed as he stood over her imposingly. Before Michonne could question his action, Rick repeated himself with a couple of light smacks that jiggled her wide bottom just the way he liked. Rick was the very definition of a man, but sometimes he could be like a kid with a toy when it came to all that ass. "Nah. Not the backseat. The back."
She saw him incline his head again and this time she understood that he'd meant for her to go to the very back of his top trim vehicle. Rick pushed a button and the hatch of the SUV gradually opened as Michonne approached the rear of the automobile. Rick shut the driver's door and stalked her, meeting her near the bumper.
Michonne gathered what was about to go down and she was more than game. Making love in his truck was nothing new. Every time they ended up naked on four wheels, she thought about their first date, how perfect it had been. She thought of how good it felt to snuggle on his chest in the rec center parking lot, listening to his heart and memorizing the sound before she really knew him well. She remembered the dried spots of yellow under his fingers from all the swipes he made to his canvas correcting the little accidental drips from his brush as he tried to impress her with his amateurish stroke. She felt the same chills from basking in the twinkle of the stars through the sunroof.
This time, the sunroof stayed closed, but they both reflected the stars in each other's eyes. They stood toe to toe, an enticing grin pulling at her luscious lips while Rick pulled at her chunky hips. He brought her a step closer to him and hoisted her up to sit in the clean, spacious storage area of the truck. Rick watched her push herself back further into the dark interior as he hit the switch to lower the rear seats and extend the cargo hold. The truck's frame threw shadows over her form and she kept her eyes seductively on him.
He hopped up into the truck beside her and he barely had time to close them up in the unlit space before she grabbed him by the arm of his coat to pull him closer. "I gotta close the door. Let me push the button, Chonne." he stretched to reach it as she tugged him away from the operations panel to her body.
"But I need you to push my button."
"Oh, I got ya, swee'heart." Rick promised with a cocky inflection, as his fingertip managed to touch the button and the hatch began to descend screening them off in a private little love den. They began removing each other's clothes. Michonne rose to her knees, ducking the low ceiling as she worked on Rick's jacket, then his belt. Her pants, pantyhose and panties were simultaneously dismissed by her husband in one downward motion. The three elastic waistbands gave little resistance, slipping down her hips and thighs. She crawled out of her bottoms leaving them deflated next to Rick's shoulder. The buttery smell of her arousal met him head on, making his mouth water and his jaw tense.
"Rick..." Michonne was settled over him, straddling his hips in no time, and pulling his black t-shirt over his head. She sighed as she ran her palms over his chest, grinding onto his engorged member that was still confined to his dark-wash denim, making a sticky wet spot next to his zipper. "Oh... my... God." Michonne's eyes rolled back as the man before her held the sides of her face in his hands, watching her reaction to what she felt in his pants, "You're so hard and… I want you so bad... I want you… so… bad."
"Mmm, fuck, 'Chonne…" He kissed her lips again, "I'm so fuckin' ready… C'mon and get what you want from daddy…" Rick gruffed out and pulled her hair back to lift her chin and attack her svelte brown neck.
Their long urgent kisses made disrobing take a bit longer, but they found it too difficult to go more than three seconds without tasting each other. All the tongue-tussling left their lips swollen and their eyes hooded. Rick's hands moved purposefully to Michonne's full breasts and he craved to taste her there next. "How the hell do we get you outta this shirt?" he asked impatiently, feeling her back and sides for a zipper.
Pulling her hands off of him made her groan, unhappy to give up the feel of his solid, well-defined body. She found her zipper hidden in the seam under her arm and as soon as she lifted the flared hem, he leaned over kissing her belly. It was one of his favorite places on her body for him to press his lips- even before it presented itself so brazenly with twins.
While he worshipped at her belly, her bra followed her shirt atop her other shed garments. Rick casted his view upward, lips parted. Her breasts were so much larger. They spilled out of his hands when he held them. It baffled him how much he could miss her smaller bosom and, at the same time, be so mesmerized by the heavy globes of flesh before him. Her nipples hardened before he could wet them with his tongue. The heat from the vents kept the space from being to brisk, still there was a chill that scattered goosebumps all over her skin. Rick rubbed his wide, thermal palms up and down her arms to warm her while his tongue teased one pert nipple, then the other.
"Damn, Michonne. All I wanna do is be inside you." he confessed, feeling the words bubble up from the place of his most carnal desires.
"Then why aren't you?" She asked him with a challenging tone, lifting off his lap. They both worked together to get his pants down. His tall, stiff dick practically sprang into her hands.
For months she was so strung out as the drug-like highs of the summer blazed nearly hotter than she could stand, but now those days of drunken love seemed like small sparks compared to February's heat. She bit her lip, anticipating another dose when Rick grabbed her firmly by the back of her neck for her back talk and she slid her sopping goodness onto is rigid length.
The feel of him widening her balmy center made them both grateful as they beheld the look of ecstasy in the other's eyes. Michonne winced at the perfection of his curved dick as it lodged snugly inside her weeping walls.
"Baby… this pussy…" Rick trailed off losing his words as he mentally sifted his mind for an end to his sentence...
'... is so good...'?
'... is all mine...'?
He decided on a warning instead of a compliment in that moment, "... is in trouble." He felt her body clench around his invading shaft, his words making her moan excitedly for the danger he promised her.
"Big trouble?" she asked coyly, pressing her rapidly moving chest into his to lay him flat on his back.
"You tell me…" Rick said from the floor of the space, bare-chested except for the fine swirls of hair she was running her fingers through. The graying brown stretch of tuft was soft as chinchilla and the feel of Michonne's nails clawing through his curls sent shivers up his spine and made his country boy grammar sound so much dirtier, "Is it big trouble, baby? How's it feel?" He thrusted upward as he pulled her hips down, sure and slow.
"Mmm. Feels like I'm gonna be in this car a few more hours." she whispered wantonly as she started to move up and down on his dick, giving Rick a view to the honey-coated base of his erect girth. The sloshing sound of her wetness was loud enough to cut through the next song to serenade them. The chaotic tempo of 'R U Mine' hit the walls of the cabin hard, like the girth of Rick's steely dick inside the bouncing woman who was currently trying her best to drive him insane.
Unfair
we're not somewhere
misbehaving for days
great escape
lost track of time and space
she's a silver lining
climbing on my desire
She knew the way her pussy gripped his dick on that upward motion of her hips would finish him before it would finish her. Being the southern gentleman, his mantra was "ladies first" and Rick considered her determined ride of his dense, hefty cock insubordination. So, she also knew that he would only indulge her so long. She stared into his icy eyes, defiant, as she brought him closer to the brink. His toes curled in his boots at the end of his long legs as he strained to keep his cool deep within her warmth. He breathed her name like a secret. It was a secret she already knew so there was no need to murmur.
"Yeah... say my name, daddy."
Rick was quick to heed her request and he said her name again with more strength and it hit her ears and then somehow the back of her throat. A deep breath rose her breasts that were cupped in his hands, drying her vocal chords. She gave him another throaty command for him to say her name again. He complied, her name all tangled in his twang and before she could peel the love away from the lust she felt her resolve slipping and her upper hand waning with every growling utterance of her name.
"Michonne." The sound of her name on her favorite pair of lips was about to make her cum and her husband was pleased as punch to feel her slow to a pace he could better manage. "Look at you." he said in a voice soft as the blanket of fluffy snow out on the sidewalks above them, "You thought that shit was funny, right?" He asked in a tease of her attempt to make him explode before she did. "Now, stop playin' and grind on this dick."
Her head swam, and her heart raced as her pussy rolled relentlessly onto his length. Rick bit his bottom lip when he felt the spasm in her core that previewed how hard she would crash in just a few more smashing winds of her hips. Her husband held both her forearms tight in his palms, flexing his biceps as she worked herself into a heated bursting release.
"I'm gonna… I'm… " she purred as her eyes rolled back, "Oh God… Rick… I'm gonna… c-cum…"
"I told you, get what you want from daddy." Rick said with volume over her rapid breathing and the music careening through the wire of the system.
He sat up some, pulling her forward by pressing his palms against her back. He covered her ridiculously tender nipple with his tongue, the sensation sent a shockwave expanding over her skin. When Rick pulled her hair with his free hand, thrusting deeper into her clenching pussy, it was the end of the road for her. She leaked her slippery juices all over his balls, making a little river between his closed thighs and his eyes rolled back as she convulsed over and over again, tightening her diehard grip on his twitching dick.
Rick wasn't done in the slightest. He took in the picture of his wife sitting with her head bowed, supporting her weight on braced arms and palms pressed into his chest. She was melting in the saddle and that ghostly grin emerged again at the corner of his mouth. He used his forefinger to lift her chin and found her lips withdrawn into her mouth and her brow knit from the sensation still racking through her in spurts.
"That was good, huh? Damn. I love to watch you come for me, 'Chonne." Rick told her through his mellowing breaths. "But you're so bad." He squeezed her chin between his finger and thumb, wiggling her drowsy head side to side. She opened her eyes and met his lovely blues and this time she gave him a self-satisfied grin.
"I've gotten you before." she reminded him of the rare occasions when he'd had too much to drink and fell victim to the superb swivel of her hips.
"A handful'a times." He granted with a tisk and spread out his jacket as wide as he could for her to lay on, then helped lower his giggling wife onto her side next to him, leaving his still-charged cock to slip from her body. His messy mop of curls fell onto his face as he leaned over on his elbow with her using his arm as a pillow. He danced his fingers over the evaporating dewy sheen of her skin and watched her try and regain composure. "This gray hair gets the best'a me sometimes…" he said humbly, and somehow the sound of his deep scratchy voice spilling modesty sent her barely recovered pussy back into overdrive. " … it's the law of averages."
"God knows, there's nothing average about you, daddy." Michonne combed her fingers through the mane he was blaming.
He kissed her cheek lightly and rumbled over her ear. "Is that why I'm coated in this sticky sweetness from the waist down?" He asked, fisting his cock with her juices. "I feel like a honey bun."
She laughed at his comparison and pushed the center of his chest playfully as a more rounded melody replaced the previous song. "When you say my name the way you said it… that's cheating." she found an excuse and ran with it.
"What? You told me to say it!"
"But you know what you did, Rick." she said and rolled her eyes slightly at his pretense of innocence.
"All I did was what you told me to do. I'm good like that." He put his face in her neck and kissed her a dozen times in the same sweet spot. "Say my name, daddy." Rick mocked her earlier command with a caricature of a feminine voice. "Say my name, daddy."
"Nooooo..." Michonne defended as her melanin hid all the blushing she was doing. "You said it too many times and you can't say it like that."
"Like what?" Rick asked satirically, as he smoothed his hands along her curves on a path to the apex of her thighs. "Like," he growled out her name with the sexiest cadence over her lips, "Michooonnnneee?"
Michonne threw her thick leg over her husband's waist and he slipped two fingers past her slick folds. Rick pressed his digits heavy into her pussy and his wife grabbed the hair at the nape of his neck in wordless approval. His index and middle finger made rough, shallow movements inside her while his thumb pampered her swollen uber-sensitive bud. She held his fingers in place with her other hand, but she never loosened her grip on his silky curls.
''Mmm, Rick. I love you." she declared unprompted. The feeling just overwhelmed her as she thanked God that she finally made it home to him- not the building where they lived, but the home that was exclusively Rick. She looked in his face, the sterile light of the garage making its way through the tinted windows giving her a filtered view of his handsome face. The crinkle around his indigo eyes, the pink of his lips and the slender slope of his nose.
He moved closer to her and she felt the powerful detail of his perfectly carved abs hard against her large belly. Big as she was, there was no room to see his beautiful cock between them and it gave her the feeling of being blindfolded. The smooth dripping head of his unseen erection lying in wait and pushing bruisingly into her thigh, leaving a lick of his murky pre-cum, made her delirious.
"Fuck me, Rick." she said too low for him to hear her. Still, he toed of his boots and lost his pants completely to climb on top of her just the same.
Neither of them said another word as they lay tangled, naked and kissing passionately, secluded from whatever the world had going on in the street and building above them. Rick lowered his head to her drawn sensitive nipples. He plucked at them with the stiffened tip of his tongue and then sucked them brashly in quick succession.
Michonne arched her back, "Daddy, please." On a desperate cry, she ran her palms anxiously over the side of her face and up over her locs. She pulled at the dense softness of her hair, urging him to put his warm heavy dick to use.
Rick pushed into her slowly, hoisting her leg into the air by the crook of his arm. He felt so good. His body angled to keep his weight off her stomach, had his pelvic bone pressed hard against her clit. He stirred his hips and her honey pot, holding off on thrusting until her now-swollen walls resettled to the width of him. He groaned out in delicious want when the tip of his length reached the spot he intended to stroke, deep inside her, without restraint. The brief tensing of his wife's muscles sealed her fate as he retreated and returned with jolting force to the very back of her slick satin tunnel.
"Yes, Rick… Ah, Rick. Yes, right there. Ri- Rick! Mmm… Oh… Rick!"
She was singing his favorite song and it wasn't the one being delivered through the Bose speakers in the truck. Even though the lyrics of 'No.1 Party Anthem' seemed to narrate this precise moment in time,
Her eyes invite you to approach
And it seems as though
Those lumps in your throat
That you just swallowed have got you going
Come on, come on, come on
Come on, come on, come on
Number one party anthem
He looked down on her, pain and pleasure cascading her face through pouted lips and clenched eyes as she continued to spur him on to an Olympic finish. "I love you." He told her for what felt like the millionth time. Then he told her again just to be sure it took. "I love you, Michonne."
The look of love
The rush of blood
The "she's with me"
The Gallic shrug
Michonne open her eyes and let the blue bathe the brown in stardust. She felt his cock harden from granite to steel as he loved on her cervix with a treacherous bang. It was like it always was and it never got old. He had never felt better or deeper, even though she had been here before- in the hold of Rick-made bliss. She could see herself right here, 40 years from now and the intensity of her heart speeding through time snatch an orgasm from her core unexpectedly. A sandpaper scream rose from her dry vocal chords as she pulsed around his length, pulling him along, past his boiling point. He spilled his seed hot inside her and the tingle of his cum splashing her walls sent her further down the rabbit hole of kaleidoscopic colors.
Come on, come on, come on
Before the moment's gone
Number one party anthem
...
Rick sat on the wide edge of their bath, in his red boxer briefs. A jetted tub big enough for two was nearly at the top of the must-haves list for their next home. Only his feet soaked, to just below his knees, under the gentle lapping of water. But Rick was currently content to watch Michonne enjoy the glittering orange and cream-swirls around her. The wedding gift of a grapefruit tangerine bath bomb from Nibila, enhanced the lulling mood. Her childhood friend was happy to fly in from Paris to watch her become Mrs. Grimes and she brought with her enough fizzy foamy balls of calming aromatherapy to last until the round-bellied bride gave birth.
The room was steamy and quiet except for the echoing of their lazy conversation off the tall tiled walls. Rick held Michonne's dainty right foot, up out of the water, in his enveloping hand. Her toenails matched her oatmeal-polished fingernails and her husband couldn't stop kissing the top of every toe as she sat, soaking in the tub, opposite of him. Smiling, she rested her head on her plush bath pillow, eyes closed and sated after their love-making rocked Rick's truck like a cradle.
Michonne fired Rick from his short-lived job as her masseuse early on in their relationship. She wasn't used to his barbaric tactility. Flashforward months later, she craved his heavy-duty rubdowns, especially now that she was pregnant. After putting pedal to metal for hours in her mad dash to reach him, the foot massage she was enjoying felt almost like foreplay. She looked at him suspiciously across the bubbly surface of their bath wondering if it was.
"Whose idea was it for Carl to stay with Shane and Andrea?"
"His… the kid knows when to make himself scarce around here." Michonne giggled at their high school behavior's effect on their actual high schooler.
Rick grinned too. "What'd he say?"
"Nothing, really." She thought back to when she dropped him and Shane off. "When he got out, he just said, Love you, mom. Have fun."
"That's my boy."
"He's literally the sweetest kid I know. He's not mine, but damned if I don't love him like I love these babies." She said rubbing her belly under the white foam floating around her.
"He loves you, too. He says it enough." Rick chuckled continuing to knead the sole of her foot. "It's been forever since I've heard him say that to Lori. I think he wants a DNA test."
Their laughter at the thought of Rick's illogical comment echoed off the high walls of their bathroom. But the humor of his joke faded and Michonne's laughter turned to a nervous smile as her husband's words gave her the perfect opportunity to broach the uncertain subject of his own parentage.
After they dropped off Florence, she and Shane spoke in hushed tones in the front seat, so Carl wouldn't overhear (while Carl sat in the third-row bench seats whispering to Enid with the same top-secret protocol). Shane explained the brief conversation he had with Rick's mom. He told Michonne that Florence said she knew his mother. At the time of his conversation with the older woman Shane hadn't been cognizant of her jittery behavior at the mention of the Walsh sisters, but looking back with this new information, he wondered why the talkative woman became so quiet.
Brother and sister rearranged all the pieces of the puzzle. The timelines, the genealogy, the gossip he remembered hearing with his young inexperienced ears. Shane didn't remember much about his mother's sisters, so they googled Shane's aunt Marilyn Walsh. She died before the internet blew up, so they didn't find much. But when they googled Lyndi Walsh, they found a short Wikipedia page.
Shane read the condensed biography of the relative he barely knew to his sister as they pushed down the highway under a sky blanketed in gray. Lyndi Walsh was described as an American singer/songwriter with one notable hit record as the lead singer of the bluegrass band "Blue Ridge Journeys". As soon as Shane read the name of the band Michonne recognized it.
She had only downloaded the album. She never looked into the members of the group. Rick had told her that his father was in the band. But according to Rick the band had an irreparable split, so she was never interested in knowing about anyone other than Everett Grimes and she had his son to tell her everything she wanted to know about the man who would've been her father-in-law… or so she thought. But she felt like she was being pulled from the outer rings of a whirlpool to the centered abyss and she had no idea what awaited her and her family at the bottom.
As far as she and her brother could decipher, if the widow Grimes wasn't Rick's mother, the most plausible candidate was Shane's Aunt Lyndi. Rick had told Michonne before that he believed his father had an affair with the band's lead singer. He had tried to find her after his father died, but when he found out the woman died decades before, he figured he'd let them both rest in peace with their secrets. That was one of the reasons Michonne wasn't sure if she should bring it up again. Her husband had made his peace and she never wanted to be the source of his stress.
Shane related his mother's account of what happened to her sister. He was just a kid when she told him the story, so she left out crucial details that he wished he knew now. He didn't know how she died or precisely when. He only knew it was years before he was born.
When the switch was flipped in his mind to the idea that if Rick was indeed his Aunt Lyndi's son, that would make the two of them first cousins, it shut Shane up for a good half hour of their ride. He purposely never sought out any of his blood relatives once his mother died. He could never forgive them for turning their backs on her. And now after making his own family, the sister he chose to keep forever had inadvertently brought his blood back into his life- in the form of a good man who had found a way to be his friend. Shane felt, like never before, that this was a renaissance in the making for a bunch of kids that nobody wanted.
Michonne glanced at him sitting next to her with a satisfied grin and she couldn't help but grin too, reading his mind. If it was true, if her two favorite men were really related, she would never let either of them hear the end of it after all the irritating antics they'd put her through when they were less cordial to each other.
The Wikipedia page for his Aunt Lyndi had been edited last by someone with the username: NotesofBlue. There was no way to contact the person directly and they couldn't find him or her anywhere else on any social media. But Michonne couldn't shake the feeling that this person had the answer they needed or at least, knew where to find them.
"What about you?" Michonne pushed herself to begin a tentative approach of the subject scratching again at her brain.
"What about me, what?" Rick returned her question for clarification.
"You ever wish you had another mother?"
Rick pursed his lips to think. Then he licked his lips when he found an answer close enough to the truth of how he felt. "What's the point in wishin'? Florence ain't never qualified for mom of the year. But she had a husband who suffered from depression and two wild boys to tame... You know she lost a baby girl?"
"Oh, no! What baby?"
"My father told me my mother was pregnant at fifteen by some jerk from another town. But the baby was stillborn."
Michonne gasped at the rush of sadness that hit her heart and ejected any thought of a similar fate for the little boy and little girl she'd become so fond of. "God. That's terrible, Rick. When did that happen?"
"I don't know. She don't talk about her past. She won't. I think she had a hard life. But I don't ever bring it up. My father used to tell me thangs sometimes, here and there over a scotch when I got older… I guess my life would've been a lot different if I had another mother, but I didn't. The mother life gave me put me on the path for the security field after I got kicked out of police academy. I mean, she gave me hell for breaking my superior officer's jaw, but she didn't give up on me. And this job is how I found you." He smiled sweetly, leaning forward again to rub the tip of his nose across the smooth ball of her foot. He gazed into her inquisitive brown eyes his lips pulling into a playful smirk, "So, thanks, mom."
"Yeah, you're right, boo. Thanks Flo!" Michonne giggled, then refocused. "Tell me more about that band your dad was in. You never met anyone who was in it?"
"No. Mom hated all those guys."
"Maybe the band could tell you stuff your dad left out or things your mom won't say."
"Maybe." Rick shrugged, agreeing flippantly.
"From the little you've told me, seems like your dad was happy until the band fell apart. I'm curious about his life with the band and what happened with all that."
"You and my mom, both. You askin' for her?" He wondered and teased, "Since y'all are 'besties' now."
"I don't know about besties."
"C'mon." Rick put a little pressure on her calf. "She's callin' you 'dear' and buying the babies stuff…"
When they stopped at the little strip mall on the way to her house, Florence, along with Shane and Carl, took a moment to peruse a baby boutique. When Michonne ended her call in the truck with Rick, she went to go find her trio of travelling companions, so she could get back to the urgent task of getting back to Rick. She had finally found them coming out of the specialty shop and her mother-in-law presented her with a gift bag containing two outrageously cute stuffed animals. One, a round eyed penguin, the other a chubby smiling panda. Michonne had explained to her mother-in-law how she planned to decorate the nursery in black and white, so the gift was generous and thoughtful.
"No. I haven't talked to Flo about it." Michonne said honestly. "Me and Bubba googled the band and we just got curious. You know he loves stories. People's lives fascinate him… you know how writers are." She covered. "If we gave you a username we found online, you think you could give it to Eugene and see what he could dig up?"
Rick just chuckled, completely oblivious of her ultimate intent. He shook his head at how nosey she and Shane could be when they got together. But he gave his usual reply, "Whatever you want, baby."
Rick was just about to ask how Shane's book was coming when his phone rang with a standard ringtone from the bedroom. He pulled his feet out of the water and made his way to see who it was. There were only a few calls important enough to interrupt the time he was spending with his wife. It just so happened, Jessie Anderson was one of those calls and her name glowed on the screen as he swiped to answer. He prayed that she had a promising lead.
"Hello." Rick put the call on speaker and walked back into the bathroom.
"Hi, Rick. Sorry to call so late. I tried Michonne but kept getting her voicemail."
"She's here. She can hear you."
"Hi, Jessie." Michonne said, realizing with irritation that she'd left her phone in the car. "What's up?"
"What's the earliest you two can do a viewing?"
"Tomorrow." Michonne said eagerly.
"Besides tomorrow. The seller won't show on Sundays. But it has to be next week because the seller will be out of the country after that and I really want to get the ball rolling before then. Now, this is going to be a somewhat unconventional property, but I really think you can get everything you're asking for if you keep an open mind, Michonne."
"Jessie, I get excited when I hear 'get everything you're asking for'." Michonne smiled. "But then the 'keep an open mind' part worries me."
"I need you to trust me, Michonne. I'm trying to get the Grimes family settled before it's too late. You guys are running out of time. As a mother, believe me when I tell you: There's nothing more stressful than moving, except, I can only imagine, moving with a set of newborn twins."
"Well, what's the address? I'll google it and check out the…"
"No, Michonne." Jessie interrupted her client's bargaining with a wry chuckle. "No. All I need from you is a date and time. I give you the address the day of."
The last thing Jessie needed was Michonne googling.
All clients were worrisome, but she'd never had a client like Michonne. A client who would say no to a home because google maps showed a man in a flowy white robe walking down the block. Jessie and Rick, both, tried to convince Michonne that the man could have been a priest at the church visible on the street corner or, at the very least, the man may have been in the choir. And while Michonne agreed that those were possibilities, she maintained that there was also the chance that the picture showed a proud, hoodless member of the Klu Klux Klan on his way to a Trump rally.
Jessie had laughed in the moment until she saw Michonne's face held no humor whatsoever. The dark-skinned woman who was, at the time, engaged to a white man and carrying biracial babies told her realtor that she couldn't risk the jail time.
That night Jessie went home and instead of her usual glass of Zinfandel, she poured herself a whiskey double… and then had her glass of wine… and then offed the whole bottle.
Michonne's mouth fell open in shock at the effrontery of Jessie's stern reply. She looked to Rick for back up and found him casually leaned up against the sink, arms crossed, holding his phone out as he chuckled to himself at the ladies' exchange.
"Well, Monday's out. We gotta OB appointment." Rick said flatly, ignoring Michonne's evil eye for allowing the blonde to speak so sharply to her. In reality, Michonne knew she was driving Jessie insane. It wasn't her intention, but she wanted what she wanted, and Jessie assured her she'd make things happen. The picky house hunter excused her demanding behavior by reminding herself how big Jessie's commission check would be.
How Rick was cool with the salty sass coming through his cell phone's speakers was beyond her. She was in the middle of sucking her teeth and an exaggerated roll of her eyes when she remembered with a splash, "Oh! I forgot to tell you. On Tuesday, you have to come with me to interview this guy I'm thinking about hiring as my assistant. Don't forget." Michonne informed her husband as she slid her lathered loofah up her arm.
"Another assistant? What about Roe?"
"Roe said she was stepping back a little now that I'm a married woman. She said assisting me was your permanent job now."
"It is." he confirmed. "So why are you hiring an assistant?"
"For work Rick. The position is actually an audition for Junior Designer. I would totally hire Roe on the spot, but she doesn't have any experience with swatches. And I don't want YES M.A.M. to be unproductive while I'm on maternity leave."
Rick understood what she was saying. Still he opened his mouth to complain about her hi-jacking his schedule. Until he processed what she was saying, then the more pressing question in his mind became,
"Why do I need to be there for when you interview an assistant?"
"In case I don't like him, I can let him down easy and say, 'my husband is crazy jealous, and he doesn't want me working with such a hot guy'. See? That way even though I'm not hiring him, he won't feel like shit." Michonne explained, impressed with her plan.
Rick just stared at his wife. He had plans with the guys to go shooting at the range, but it wouldn't be too hard to do both. It might prove to be too hard for him to endure his wife telling another man how hot he is… but he loved to be needed by her, so he'd be there.
Jessie cleared her voice on the line, feeling forgotten as she listened to her clients go back and forth about their plans. She rolled her eyes at how cute Rick and Michonne were together and pressed them for a day and time, "Come on, guys. I gotta get back to the excitement of typing up these open house flyers.
Michonne realized then, that since she'd neglected to tell him, this was short notice and he may be busy that day. She looked up at him with her innocent brown sugar eyes. "Sorry, is that gonna work for you, babe?"
"Whatever you want." He gave in, his wooden expression hiding his pleasure to give her anything she wanted. She mouthed a thank you to him and blew him a kiss from her naughty lips. "I think we can do Wednesday, Jessie." Rick replied to his realtor and raised a questioning brow to his wife. "Say 'round four?
Agreeing with a shrug, Michonne pointed to her towel and Rick dropped his cell on the sink to help her out the tub. He circled her body with the cozy cotton loops of her soft large towel draped over his strong arms to steady her as she took one step, then another onto the lush long piles of her ivory bath rug.
"Okay. Thanks guys. You two have a good night. And Michonne don't worry," Jessie said, "I can pull this off for you." They returned her goodnight and Rick ended the call.
He took a seat on the edge of the tub again as the water circled the drain behind them. Pulling his lady into his lap, he hugged her up, tight against his chest and rested his fuzzy chin on her damp shoulder as she squirmed in mock resistance.
"Why'd you let 'Miss Open House' tell me no?" Michonne whined, putting on a front of betrayal so Rick would hold her closer and whisper something sexy and sweet in a needless apology.
"Somebody has to tell you no sometimes, baby… you know I can't do it." He rasped against her ear and the smile she was holding hostage on her lips escaped as Rick rubbed her body dry. "Jessie is the expert here, so let's just follow her lead…" he kissed her neck, "work with her, okay?" He planted another kiss closer to her ear, "Steak and Relish gotta live somewhere... only place for them here is the closet under the stairs…" Rick joked, "I know you can set up a space but, come on…" He kissed her cheek, making a trail with his lips and she turned to meet them with a giggle on her own.
"No." She shook her head, pressing her mouth to his, "My babies are not living in no closet."
"I know. We made all'a this forever together…" he smoothed his hands in circles over the babies brewing in her womb, "we gotta have somewhere to put it, right?" Michonne nodded reaching up to play in his chin hair, touching her forehead to his. "So, even though I already know the answer to this… I'm still gonna ask… When we go see this property with Jessie," He gave her one more kiss on her pillowy pout and sighed on a growl, "you gonna be good?"
A/N: I'm back to the Arctic Monkeys with the songs in this chapter because my obsession has not gotten any better.
Album: AM
Songs: Do I Wanna Know, R U Mine, No. 1 Party Anthem
(Obviously, I don't own any of these songs.)
Oh, and don't worry. I'm not withholding wedding night sex from you guys. It'll be a flashback in an upcoming chapter. Thanks for your reviews, PMs and patience. You guys make me so happy… 😊
~ comewithnattah