6. A Little Bit Yours, continued
AN: Finally, this song-fic concludes. Another song will be featured soon. Thank you for the reviews and for taking this ride with me.
Around eight o'clock that night, an exhausted Michonne walked through the front door to an empty house. Her cellphone buzzed and she retrieved it from her coat pocket and unlocked it.
Rick: Babe, I'm running a bit late—the boys were a handful tonight.
Michonne: No worries. I just got in myself. What happened with the boys?
Rick: When we got back to my place to clean up and pack a few things, they started acting out because they didn't want to spend the night at mom's. They knew something was up, they just didn't know it's with you. They wouldn't even kiss me goodnight, can you believe it?
Michonne smiled like a proud mama knowing that her boys had her back. She unlocked the door to her home office and placed her satchel on a nearby chair, closed the door behind her and fired off a response to her husband's latest reply.
Michonne: My boys are no fools; it sounds like you've done this before.
Rick: The past is the past, Michonne. Have you eaten?
Michonne: Nothing of real substance. I had back-to-back meetings, the last one was unexpected. I met a new client this evening. I was about to order us something to eat then hop into the shower. What do you feel like eating?
Rick: Do you really want me to answer that question?
Michonne: Your mind is always in the gutter, Dr. Grimes.
Rick: Dr. Grimes?
Michonne: What did you expect with a response like that?
Rick: An invitation, perhaps? You're looking for substance? How does French sound to you?
Michonne: Are we still talking about food?
Michonne quipped back.
Michonne: It sounds like a man who's planning a seduction.
Rick: Can you blame me—It's been 4 excruciatingly long days, so is it working?
Michonne: Lol. Sounds like a man on a very strict diet. When you get here, just let yourself in. I have a hot date with my favourite showerhead.
Rick groaned, totally envious of the images she planted in his head of her and the damn showerhead.
Rick: It's hard to eat anything less than the best. I don't mind helping out, js.
Just then, Paul slowly approached a very distracted Rick who was busy texting with a goofy smile plastered on his face like a high school boy with a crush. Paul carried in his hands the bags containing the order Rick called in a favour to obtain right after his earlier conversation with Michonne that afternoon.
"New hair cut?" Paul remarked referring to Rick's new do. "Date night, huh," Paul teased, placing the bags on the table in front of Rick.
Rick looked up from his phone surprised by the interruption, his face turned a light shade of crimson as though he was caught doing something wrong. "Oh, hey, Paul. Yeah. I really appreciate this man. I owe you one."
"Don't mention it. We're just happy you both finally got out of your own way to make it happen." Paul added, giving Rick a warm smile.
"Me too," stated Rick, resolute in his newfound confidence. He stood and shook Paul's hand, retrieved his order and left the restaurant.
Michonne: I'll have to take a raincheck on your offer, I can't wait for you because I'm starving.
Michonne added and rubbed her low rumbling stomach on her way to her room.
Rick: You're killing me—you know that, right?
Michonne: Yet, you wouldn't have it any other way.
She replied with a satisfying smile.
Rick placed the bags in the trunk of his vehicle then proceeded to the front and got into the vehicle.
Rick: Some might even say that I'm bewitched.
Michonne: I'm quite sure those weren't exactly the words they used. I warned you about listening to Shane.
Rick: Shane is not exactly our problem.
Michonne: Oh, then what is?
Rick: Isn't it obvious? I don't see you enough—I'm starving.
Michonne: I'm no medical doctor of course, but we'll have to agree to disagree regarding that statement because from what I recall, Dr. Grimes, you are not at all malnourished in any way shape or form. Au contraire, from your bulging biceps and toned torso down to your sculpted calves, one might say that you are the perfect specimen. I know all the paralegals at the office say as much whenever you've graced me with a surprise presence at work, their productivity goes way down.
Michonne chuckled and placed her phone on the countertop of the master bathroom, unzipped her dress and removed her undergarments separating the pile into the laundry and cleaner's basket.
Rick sat in his car and shook his head.
Rick: God, you make me sound like a piece of meat. But if it works for you—. Let the record show that I'm only interested in the kickass partner with the pencil skirts and the red bottom stilettos who I enjoy watching come as much as I do watching her leave.
Michonne smiled at his response.
Michonne: I'm just stating the facts, sir. Cheeky but I love it. Love you. See you soon.
Rick: Love you too, beautiful.
...
Approximately thirty minutes later...
Michonne walked out onto the patio and gasped at the amount of work Rick managed to achieve in the short time it took her to shower and dress.
The setting was picture perfect. The fairy lights strung across the backyard and in the trees for when they entertained there at night were all lit up with candles surrounding the pristine backlit pool. The white linen-covered table top was decorated with tea light candles in glass holders, a bottle of her favourite Bordeau was opened and left to breathe, two place settings of white bone china with sterling silver flatware and wine glasses. The good stuff they used for special occasions.
A single red rose lay across her plate with red petals sprinkled across the white tabletop; the remainder of the bouquet displayed in a crystal vase on a nearby side table.
Michonne's heart ached knowing but for the news she had to share with him tonight, this would have been a perfect date night. He always knew how to get her to yes. Tonight was their first date night so to speak since they decided to give their marriage another chance a mile marker in more ways than they could count, but ultimately, one that would determine their future tonight. Her stomach lurched at the very thought of what her news might mean for their family.
Rick had not heard her approach but caught a whiff of a mixture of citrus and sweetness floating on the gentle evening breeze. He turned slowly, and his eyes captured what could best be described as a vision where Michonne stood several feet away from him dressed all in white.
"Hey," Michonne called as she stepped onto the back patio where she found Rick inspecting the landscaping while awaiting her appearance.
She wore her hair in a big fat braid which lay against her smooth bare mahogany shoulder exposed by the off-the-shoulder three-quarter sleeved top with, white skinny jeans and white flat sandals that exposed her red pedicure.
His wife's beauty was nothing new to him but damn, she glowed. He yearned to caress her beautiful face and every inch of her lithe body. If he didn't know better, he would swear that she was even more beautiful than the last time he saw her just days before. Breathtaking! He thought. He knew it was time, he was more than ready to be back home for good, no more sneaking out before the boys woke up in the morning which would complicate things the way they stood at present. He knew his heart and it was standing before him in their backyard.
Rick remained mute. His mind tried reasoning with itself as to whether it was at all possible that Michonne could be even more beautiful four days later but he couldn't decide. He only knew one thing, he was more in love with her than he had been four days before. So he was inclined to agree with Shane—he's whipped. His lips parted slightly but words failed him. He simply stared at the vision before him completely enthralled by her grace and beauty.
Michonne stared at her husband with his new haircut which was buzzed on the sides and back with short brown curls on the top. The look suited him—his intense cerulean blues assessed her, he needed a response. He wanted her approval. Hell, she loved it—it accentuated his chiselled features, and his salt and pepper stubble drew her eyes to his sexy full pink bottom lip and she bit the inside of hers. She felt conflicted. She found herself experiencing competing emotions, grief for the loss of his silky soft curls she loved to lace her fingers through during moments of intense pleasure, then envy because all of his sexiness was now on full display. The raw diamond she always knew him to be was shaped and buffed into its finest form fully exposed for all the world to see. And after tonight, she knew she could possibly lose him forever. Her heart ached even more.
"You dressed up, handsome?" she teased, referring to his grey blazer, his white button-down shirt with the red tie, his black jeans and trusted cowboy boots.
Rick continued to stare but remained speechless.
Michonne glided to him and placed her hand over his heart. "It's perfect— everything's perfect. Thank you! She added in a low voice filled with emotions and kissed his cheek.
Instantly Rick's arms snaked around Michonne and he held her tight not wanting to let go for fear the spell would be broken.
"You. Are. Perfect." He added, as his warm cerulean blues absorbed her beauty like a man seeing the love of his life for the very first time.
Just then, Michonne's stomach rumbled louder than it did before. She winced. "I'm sorry but I think we really should eat."
...
Minutes later, after the food was plated and placed on the table, "Paul really outdid himself," Michonne stated, admiring the colourful presentation of the braised lamb with veggies. The savoury gamy aroma tickled her nose and caused her mouth to water.
Rick assisted Michonne as she took her place at the table then he took his place at the table. He reached for the bottle of wine but as he was about to pour Michonne's wine she placed her hand over her glass.
Rick raised his brow questioning the gesture, throughout their time together she had always enjoyed a glass or two of wine with her meal so he failed to understand her actions now. "I'm sorry, would you care for another bottle instead?"
"No. I can't," Michonne replied a little uneasy fearing this would be the moment their bubble finally dissipated.
"I don't understand, you've always had a glass of wine before tonight should be no different, Michonne. You're not taking a drink is not helping me—I need your support but this isn't supporting me."
"I'm not doing this for you, Rick. I can't drink—", and for a brief instant there was fear in her eyes; she blinked then looked from the glass and back at him silently compelling him to understand the words she couldn't say.
She silently watched his brows furrow as he pieced the clues together and witnessed the joy as realization dawned on his face. Her heart ached as the insurmountable joy momentarily experienced by the man she loves was instantly replaced by the face of the clinician calculating what it meant and just like that his mask fell into place.
...
Rick's realization slowly dawned on him as the clues came together. It was right there before him all along. It happened three times before, although with the twins it was easy to discern since she couldn't keep anything down for weeks. The second time around it was over before they even had a chance to get used to the idea and then with Mudiwa, her ethereal beauty took his breath away every day. It was an easy pregnancy until a cruel twist of faith caused their world to spin out of control. He wanted this miracle for them but he had to be practical because his wife who sat in front of him was barely able to say the very word. So how could he allow himself to want something she herself didn't even seem to want.
"Are you happy, Michonne?" he asked with pleading eyes.
"I am."
"Then why don't your words match what you're body's screaming? Do you want this child or not?" he cringed inside because his words fell from his lips harsher than he ever expected them to.
"I do." she replied and silent tears slid down her cheek.
"I don't understand, babe, what are you not telling me?"
Michonne could no longer bear his scrutiny with their bubble about to burst, she got up from the table.
Rick stood and watched his wife hug herself as she paced towards the pool and back.
"Michonne, whatever it is, we can handle it but only if we talk it through."
Michonne paced several times more then stopped and turned to face her husband with her eyes filled with tears. "It might be his, Rick," she whispered angrily. "How do we get pass that? The night after you and I slept together, I came home the next day and you had replaced our bedroom suite, the linens everything and cancelled the contract with his company; you said we couldn't rebuild our marriage in a bed I shared with another man especially if he kept coming around. If I'm carrying his child, how do we move forward together with a constant reminder of the time I spent with him?"
The thought that the child could not be his never crossed his mind. But just like that, he was there, the piece of shit was back in their marriage. "Ten years ago, you said, I was the only man you ever slept with without protection. So what changed? What the hell was so damn special about him?"
"And you are. You know the pill is not exactly foolproof, accidents do happen."
"The fuckin' kid's in love with you, Michonne. You rocked his fucking world… not many kids get to fuck the woman in the poster on their wall—you were that woman to him. What the hell do you think will happen if you tell him?"
"Babe, at thirty-eight, this is probably my last chance to become pregnant. There's no time clock for you—at forty-five-you can still have children even if—." Almost instantly her words choked off fearing speaking them into the universe would give them life. Instead, she swallowed the lump in her throat and allowed her warm tears to purge themselves.
"Hershel says I can't get a paternity test for several weeks yet but when I do, I am obligated to tell him if he fathered this child."
It was Rick's turn to pace and he walked the same path she previously did. After a few turns back and forth, he turned to face Michonne with his left hand on his hip. He opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it and remained silent. Instead, he pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.
"I didn't expect this any more than you did, but I'm keeping this child no matter who fathered it even if it means I'll have to raise it on my own."
Michonne's words stung him. Just then, her stomach growled once more reminding them the world no longer revolved around the grown-ups.
"Will you please wash up and sit down and let me warm up your food?" Rick asked, walking back towards the table and taking both plates back to the kitchen, slightly disappointed that their evening had not gone quite the way he intended.
…
"Dinner was delicious, thank you." Michonne offered as Rick stood and cleared the table insisting that she remained off her feet.
Shortly after, when Rick returned to the patio he found Michonne resting on the sunflower yellow sofa in the sitting area near the pool. Michonne pulled her feet up allowing him space to sit.
Rick took her feet and placed them on the throw pillow on his lap. "Look, I'm sorry for earlier. I lost my head."
"Baby, it's understandable. It came as a surprise to me too when Hershel told me the news earlier today."
"So, what does this mean for us?" he asked worried all the work they've put into rebuilding their marriage could be all for naught.
"I love you, Rick. I want what we're trying to rebuild but I also understand your concerns too. But until we know definitively who fathered this child, it's really up to you."
"Do you still have feelings for him?"
"Not on the same level he does. We helped each other out through a rough patch but I was clear from the start that he had his life ahead of him and I couldn't give him the kind of life he wanted."
Rick silently cursed himself realizing he brought the situation to their door. "But that may have changed, right?"
"It doesn't change the fact that my heart already belongs to you but it all depends on whether you love me enough to raise another man's child in the home we built together and could you accept this child without fault and love it as though it were your own?"
Michonne reached her hand out to Rick who took it and pulled her up into a seated position.
"A month ago I came home. You are my home, Michonne. This child is a part of you, so yes. If you'll have me, I accept all of you because I love you."
And for the first time since she left Hershel's office that day, Michonne felt the weight of the world lifted from her shoulders and her frame lightened. "I love you too. When do you think you can move back in?" she asked.
Michonne pulled Rick closer until their foreheads met and happy tears spilled down their cheeks.
"Baby?"
"Yeah?"
"Why did you cut off my curls?"
"It was rarely kind of a dare."
"Oh?"
"Shane and I were at the barbershop getting a trim when he told me that the only reason a woman like you would ever give me a second chance is because you think I'm pretty. I told him that I'm not a fuckin boy toy so he said prove it, so I told Noah to take it all off but to leave a bit on the top."
Michonne laughed.
"What? Don't you like it?" He asked with concern marring his handsome face.
"Of course, I do, but I'm afraid the joke's on you because you made yourself hotter, not uglier."
Michonne tried to keep a poker face but her body shuddered. The thought of her husband thinking he made himself less attractive made it all the more impossible to keep it up, so she allowed the hysteria of the moment to run its course. After several minutes when the hysteria died down, she tried her best to keep a straight face to support him in his dilemma.
"What's so damn funny?" Rick asked, a little annoyed at her reaction.
"I warned you about listening to Shane."
"You said it made me look hotter—, that means it pleases you, so?"
"So?" Michonne teased.
"We should move this discussion of ours indoors for experimental purposes of course."
"Experimental purposes?"
"I need to know whether or not this look elicits a different response in you?"
"You do, do you?"
"That—and to find out just how long I'm going to be in the doghouse if it doesn't."
"Of course it will, as you've so eloquently put it, it's been four long days without substantial nourishment for both of us and I'm aching to be filled to the brim."
"God, you're so damn sexy," Rick groaned as he felt the warmth of Michonne's delicate hand over his cock and his jeans tightened.
...
Eight months later...
"RJ and Andre, stop! Come back here right now," a heavily pregnant Michonne cried after her boys who decided to race out of the restaurant and into the pouring spring rain while Michonne was busy speaking to Aaron in the entrance.
"Don't, Michonne I'll go after them, Rick would have my head if something happened to those boys but if something happened to you, I would do it myself."
Aaron turned to rush out the door but the door opened and CJ walked in with her drenched boys in tow and a biracial girl with chestnut curls.
"CJ?"
"Michonne."
"Mommy, look Carl's back. Is he going to clean our pool again?" the boys chimed.
"You look good," CJ added as his eyes took in Michonne's very pregnant form and looked at her with furrowed brows.
"Thank you."
Aaron who read the look and sensed the question he was sure to follow took hold of the boys. He no sooner did so, when a honked which was no doubt Rick who left his family indoors to retrieve the car. "I'll bring them to the car," he added and exited what was turning out to be a very cramped waiting area.
"Two for Janssen, please," CJ called out to the maître d' and nodded at the girl to follow the elderly gentleman. But as soon as the two were out of earshot, he spoke, "I guess congratulations are in order but is it his or mine or do you even know?"
"CJ, you're better than this. Don't be that guy."
"What guy is that, Michonne? The one you lied to, the one you told you didn't want any more kids. We broke up nine months ago and I come back to town and the same day I run into my very pregnant ex-girlfriend who looks like she's about ready to pop. I have a right to know because two of the last batch of condoms we used broke. That child you're carrying could be mine."
"CJ, don't do this."
"The name's Carl, Michonne, not CJ. I like my name just fine. Is it mine?"
"We did a paternity test, Carl and Rick's the father. You need to move on with your life and forget about me. Your date is sitting alone inside waiting for you while you're out here arguing with me. I'm not yours, Carl. I'm married—I was always married, nothing's changed."
Just then the door opened behind Michonne, "Babe?" Rick called while shooting daggers at his wife's ex-lover.
"I'm coming," Michonne replied then turned away from Carl and walked towards her husband who held an umbrella to shield her from the rain.
As she walked away, she heard his final words, "You two deserve one another."
A few weeks later...
An exhausted Michonne opened her eyes to the sound of their daughter Danai Jekesia Grimes wailing and the voice of her husband singing to her over the baby monitor. At two o'clock in the morning, it was feeding time again although it felt like she had just done it five minutes before.
She walked into the dimly lit nursery next door to their room where she found Rick rocking their week-old daughter.
"Hey beautiful," he called out as he ceded his spot to Michonne in preparation for the feeding. "She's changed and ready to go," he offered passing his daughter over to her mother.
Michonne took her seat and then her daughter. She cradled baby Danai in place and within seconds she latched onto her food source.
"I'll get you some water, baby," Rick added, kissed her cheek and turned to leave the room.
The end!
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