Handing her keys off to a valet is a reminder that Carl's birthday dinner with family may be at a bowling alley, but it's certainly not the type that Amanda normally attends. The converted warehouse manages to have an upscale vibe to it, with luxurious custom leather couches at each lane instead of plastic chairs. It's relatively busy for not quite one on a Sunday afternoon as she makes her way to the private party area.
It at least looks a little bit teenagery and less formal, but that's thanks to a side table of presents with a tower of cupcakes and enough balloons that Amanda honestly isn't sure why the table isn't trying to float away. She eases her gift bag among the others, realizing that she's one of the last to arrive.
"Here. You may end up needing this." Lori gives her a lopsided grin as she passes Amanda a bottle of hard cider.
"Bowling isn't that terrible, Lori," she replies, but takes a drink, wincing at the tart apple flavor.
Lori glances at the cider bottle mournfully before taking a drink of her water. "Queen Evelyn is about five minutes from arriving."
"I didn't realize she was in town." Amanda racks her brain, trying to remember if Rick's mentioned where his mother actually is, other than out of the country. Some Caribbean island, maybe?
"She flew in last night to be here for Shane's wedding and Carl's birthday both."
Two events that big in her family do make sense that Evelyn would come to Atlanta, Amanda supposes, especially since Carl turned eighteen this year. It's a significant birthday no matter how you look at it, and he is Evelyn's only biological grandson.
She scans the room for who is here and who isn't. Her mother and Jean Walsh are sitting on a comfortable couch with Sophia sandwiched between them and baby Clara snug in Susan's arms. Carol sits opposite them on another couch next to Beth and Tara. Merle and Daryl are amusing the other kids at one of the bowling lanes, helping the smaller kids 'bowl' against Ruby.
"I'm guessing that's why Rick, Shane, and the boys aren't here yet?"
Michonne wanders up in time to hear that. "Ah. Lori's giving you the heads up that Evelyn's en route?" She doesn't wait for Amanda's nod. "Got the orders in for enough pizzas, tacos, loaded fries, and chicken fingers to feed twice our number."
"And the ahi tuna salad for Evelyn?" Lori asks, fingers tightening on her water bottle.
"Of course. Although I'm hoping to see Andre convince her she's really got to try the fried chicken tacos. They're his favorite." The smirk on Michonne's face is brief as she turns to Amanda again. "Evelyn isn't as bad as her first impression may give, I promise."
"You say that because she likes you, Michonne," Lori adds.
"She likes you just fine now that you aren't married to Rick," Michonne retorts with a smile. "And at least Amanda can meet her without the whole 'mother of my boyfriend' issue going."
The reminder of the breakup stings a bit, but not as much as it did a week ago. Amanda knows Michonne is giving her an optimistic way of viewing things today. It actually helps since today is the first time she'll be in the same room as Rick since she stalked out of his apartment nearly two weeks ago.
They hear the new arrivals before they see them because Andre is chattering happily at Evelyn's side, hand in hand with his grandmother about something with all the happy volume a seven-year-old can manage. Carl is trailing alongside, grinning in amusement at something, hands shoved in his jeans pockets. Behind them, Rick and Shane enter, carrying far too many gifts for them to just be Carl's.
That mystery is solved quickly thanks to Lori. "For all that I complain, she'll have brought something for all the kids here. Little outfits from the craft village on Tortola, I'll bet."
"Everyone?" Amanda is puzzled by that, watching as Evelyn and Andre divert directly to Jean, greeting Shane's elderly grandmother and giving Amanda time to assess Rick's mother.
Evelyn's in her mid-sixties, but unlike the gray hair that's all that Amanda ever remembers Susan having, Evelyn's hair is a shade of brown close to cinnamon, with just enough highlighting that Amanda suspects is due to a hairdresser's expensive trickery. It's swept up in a twist of some sort with the glitter of gemstone in some sort of hair comb near the crown of her head.
Surprisingly, she is wearing jeans, just like Jean, but Amanda has a feeling there's a few hundred dollars price difference between the designer pair Evelyn is wearing and Jean's comfortable-looking Levis. Amanda is fairly certain she saw Evelyn's sleek blouse in the shop Beth took her for dresses, and the understated mules the older woman is wearing flash red soles of the $600 price tag range.
"Evelyn thinks it helps smaller children understand birthday parties if they aren't left out of the gifts," Lori explains. "It'll probably all be small outfits considering Rick asked me what Naomi's current size was about a week ago."
Amanda catches Rick looking her way, expression tight and unhappy for a brief second as he sets down his packages. He hides it behind a smile when Shane says something too low-pitched for the women to hear. Both men laugh before Shane weaves his way into the group to sling an arm around Michonne's waist and press a kiss to her cheek. "We have a dinner date at the hotel with Mama Evie tonight."
Michonne doesn't seem concerned. "I'll go say hello before she gets free of all the introductions. Want to bite the bullet, Lori?"
Sighing, Lori nods and follows Michonne, her smile the artificially bright one Amanda hates seeing her sister-in-law wear.
Shane levels a sly grin Amanda's way before deliberately leaving her standing alone, five feet away from Rick. Before she can make an excuse to go introduce herself to Evelyn, thinking that might be the easier conversation anyway, Rick steps closer. "Thank you for not skipping the party. Carl has been planning for you to be on his team all week."
"I wouldn't miss his party," Amanda murmurs, not wanting any of their personal issues to cloud the day. "And it's a big room."
Despite Rick being the one to end things, he flinches at her last words, making her realize he's struggling as much as she is. He shifts his weight, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans and slouching his shoulders. "Yeah. Big room."
With that, he walks off, and Amanda isn't sure if she's happy about it - or if she wants to kick her own ass for fumbling when he was obviously offering her an olive branch. Sighing, she decides to worry about it later and puts on her best smile as she goes to hug Carl and let him introduce her to his rather infamous grandmother.
It's just a few hours. She can handle just a few hours that put that bright a smile on her nephew's face.
Watching Amanda with his mother is a surreal experience for Rick. There's a part of him that suspected Evelyn would like Amanda, just like she does Shane, because they both have a sort of hard-won confidence that it's hard not to respond to. Although Evelyn isn't bowling, to exactly no one's surprise, she's taken a seat with Carl's team… next to Amanda.
Shane passes Rick a bottle of water, nudging him lightly with one elbow as he does so. "Do you think she's got some sort of radar about you and Amanda?" he asks Rick, voice too quiet to carry over the shrieks of the smaller children enjoying their 'bowling' in a lane two down from the Carl versus Sophia teams.
Rick shrugs. "I have no idea how her mind works, Shane, you know that."
The low chuckle from his brother makes Rick want to smack Shane, and the smug grin tells him that Shane knows the impulse is there. "I just had the most interesting thought. What if she decides to play matchmaker?"
He can't decide if the idea is daunting or alluring. The ache in his chest that refuses to fade tells him it might be a bit of both. Evelyn meddling in the mess he and Amanda have made of their attempt at a relationship would either crush things beyond any hope of repair - or in a scenario he can't quite imagine, it might work. He's not a naive man, and he can admit that the instant dislike his mother took to Lori embedded a sour note in their marriage from the beginning.
"I think it would piss Amanda off," Rick says at last.
"Maybe. Or maybe she's just heard enough stories of the dragon lady mother-in-law that it took up residence in her mind when it comes to trusting what was going on between you two."
"Shane, this isn't really the time…"
The sigh his brother lets out tells Rick the conversation he's been avoiding about why he broke things off with Amanda is going to happen sooner rather than later. But Shane lets it drop, helped in part by them both being called to play a game with Grandma Jean and Amanda's mother, Susan.
Rick's initial discomfort at teaming with Susan passes quickly when she makes no comment about Amanda. Instead, they fall into conversation similar to their Saturday visit, with Jean and Shane chipping in. Susan and Jean are both intrigued by the tutoring Rick's been doing at Jesus's shelter, especially in relation to foster kids. By the time things wind down, he's pretty sure that Jean and Susan have managed a friendship that will last past the occasional family overlap.
Thanks to his mother having plans with Shane's family, Evelyn leaves before Rick, and everything is sorted into vehicles that needs to go home. Rick volunteered to return the rental helium tank the next day, so he's the last one in the party room, systematically popping the balloons that didn't skitter off home with Merle's kids and Naomi.
"Did you see my phone around here anywhere?"
Stiffening at hearing Amanda behind him, Rick straightens from stuffing the deflated balloons into a trash bag. "I haven't seen one, but I haven't finished checking the room."
She nods and goes to search around the couches at the lanes. As soon he finishes his cleanup, he goes to help, but she locates the phone before he reaches her.
"Don't these places usually do cleanup as part of the arm and leg they charge in rental?" Amanda asks, surprising him in his cleanup patrol.
"Yeah, but I paid extra to bring in the table and balloons, so they said that cleanup was outside the scope of the rental." Rick doesn't mind, and Merle packed the folding table off with his brood when they left. "I think I've got everything done except clearing the final tab."
He has no idea why she walks along with him toward the bar, but he doesn't argue. They've been avoiding talking to each other for a while, relying on texts for any updates to their shared case. It's probably time they tried a civil conversation after the stilted earlier one.
The bartender lets Rick sign off on the tab, and he can practically feel Amanda shudder at the total. "He only turns eighteen the once."
"Yeah, I guess so. Did he have fun with his friends yesterday? I saw the pictures online that he and Sophia posted."
"Based on the fact that Lori says he fell asleep on the couch when he got home, I'm guessing they did." Lori had texted a picture of Carl sprawled in her living room, worn out by a day ziplining with his friends, followed by a dance club that allowed eighteen and up. "We gave him no curfew for once, and he still made it home by one."
Amanda smiles at that, following him to the door as they wait for their cars. She arches a brow when it's not the Mustang that is brought around, but the rented Audi. "My mother isn't fond of my car, as you can imagine. It's easier to just rent a car while she's in town, but she doesn't like to drive in Atlanta, thus I'm one of her chauffeurs while she's in town."
Taking the keys as the second valet comes into sight with Amanda's Honda, Rick hesitates. "Do you want to meet for lunch tomorrow? I've got some paperwork for the dummy company you might want to be familiar with before I show it to Gorman."
"We could go over it this evening if you're not busy," she offers, surprising him.
Inviting her back to the apartment seems like a risky idea since Rick has no idea if he can stick to his resolve that he's not willing to continue things with her if she thinks his feelings are false. But maybe they need to test those waters, because, at some point, they're going to have to meet with Gorman again, and right now? They're so skittish around each other that even a blind stranger could figure out something's wrong.
"I'm not busy if you want to follow me back."
As they pull out into traffic, Rick glances at the smaller car in his rearview mirror and tries to lock away the yearning that tonight is about something other than paperwork and maintaining their cover with Gorman. He misses her desperately, in ways he's afraid he'll admit to her once they're truly alone.
Of all the things Amanda expected when she got to Rick's apartment, seeing him rushed by a tiny, fluffy white whirlwind of canine energy was not one of them. He laughs, scooping the small dog up and motioning Amanda into the foyer so he can shut the door.
"Sorry. Lola still gets pretty excited when I come home."
Amanda thinks it might be an understatement, because Lola is licking all the exposed skin she can reach, tail wagging so hard Amanda is surprised it doesn't just fall right off. Rick's obviously had the dog long enough that he's skilled at tilting his head to keep her from licking his face. He carries the dog into the kitchen before setting her on the floor and reaching for a packet of moist dog food and emptying it into one of two empty bowls next to an automatic dog waterer.
Looking around, she can see that the bowls and waterer aren't the only changes. A few toys lie scattered in the normally pristine living room, and she can see a crate near the balcony doors that is far too big for tiny Lola. Dry food rattles against a stainless steel bowl behind her, and it apparently summons the crate's occupant. Unlike Lola, who is probably no more than six pounds, the lanky reddish-brown dog staring at Amanda from the other side of the room is probably closer to a hundred pounds.
Rick turns and sees the larger dog hesitating and calls out softly. "C'mon, Milo. You'll like Amanda."
Warily, the dog circles to the side of the kitchen island opposite of where Amanda is standing, going to lean against Rick's leg instead of showing any interest in the waiting food. Rick reaches down and runs a gentle hand along the dog's head and neck. "Milo and Lola's owner died, and he's still wary of strangers after living in the shelter for a while."
Nodding, Amanda crouches, curious about how the larger dog will react to her. The department's training for dealing with loose dogs is haphazard in some ways, but she's spent enough time with animal control to figure out how best not to antagonize a dog for her own safety. Milo doesn't move from Rick's side, but the idea that someone is closer to floor level intrigues Lola enough for the smaller dog to leave her food and come perch her front paws on Amanda's bent knee.
Once Lola snuffles at Amanda's offered hand, Amanda rubs across her shoulders and side, marveling at the sleek, silky fur. "What kind of dogs are they?"
"Lola is a Maltese. Milo is a Rhodesian Ridgeback. He's not really an apartment dog, but he makes a great running partner."
That makes sense, Amanda supposes, because she'd guessed early on that Rick was primarily a runner for staying in shape. A big, leggy dog like Milo would be perfect for runs in the city parks like Rick prefers instead of sticking to a gym treadmill like Amanda does. The cop in her likes the extra security, too. Cop or not, running solo is always a risk, even as a man on populous city trails.
"She's so tiny. Like a little bit of dandelion fluff."
Rick laughs, and when Amanda glances up, the tenseness that's been part of his posture since the party ended is gone. Something about the dogs' presence lets him finally relax around her, and she wonders if that's part of why he invited her over.
"Lola is quite the little spoiled princess at the doggie daycare in the building. Milo is more of her silent bodyguard according to the workers."
That makes sense, Amanda thinks, that Rick wouldn't leave the dogs unattended all day. His schedule may be less crazy nowadays, but no cop has a completely predictable one, and Carl's only here every other week. Even Beth is gone as much as she's home between her classes and work shifts.
"I can see why. She's the sweetest dog I've ever met in my life." She doesn't even have to exaggerate because Lola truly is just the type of adorable dog that makes people's hearts melt about canines in general.
When Lola wanders back to her food, Amanda decides to go sit on the couch, since her being in the kitchen is probably going to keep Milo from eating. It proves to be a wise choice because Milo does move away from Rick as soon as there's an entire room between them and Amanda. Rick goes to the fridge and grabs two beers, opening them and bringing them to the couch.
She takes hers, letting the cold liquid be a brief distraction as Rick sets his bottle on a coaster before disappearing into his office and reappearing with a folder of papers that he offers to her.
"Attorney's office has everything in place. Gorman decided in the end that he didn't want his name on the business directly after I suggested it might be better if he took a security position with the bar instead."
Flipping through property assessments and financials, Amanda realizes things have expanded beyond the simple investment in a local strip center-based bar. "You're buying the whole center?" she asks, once again a bit in awe of the sheer amount of money Rick has at his disposal.
"Yeah. The owner of the center heard about the bar's sale and sent out an inquiry about selling the actual building. The bar has four of the downstairs units and the upstairs section, but I'll be the landlord to the other four units."
"They aren't occupied?"
Rick laughs softly. "No, they aren't. The owner hasn't reinvested in the building in a long time, and it's starting to show. It's part of why the bar was up for sale because they just didn't have the funding to move somewhere better."
"Will you keep it after Gorman's taken care of?" she asks, genuinely curious. She knows Rick has kept most of his real estate investments under the family trust, but the paperwork in the folder has this one being in his name and not the trust.
"I plan to. I've got a good management team that can step up, and they're looking for a transition team for the bar so that I'm not moonlighting there long."
A flippant thought strikes Amanda and she can't resist a smile. "I don't know. You might find you like being a bartender."
Rick laughs. "I think that might be the career change that finally drives my mother crazy."
Thinking back to her polite conversations with Evelyn, Amanda thinks he might be right. Evelyn had been respectful of Amanda's career, but all of her curiosity was directed at Amanda's opportunities for promotion in law enforcement. Rick's years of being content to be a patrol cop must have really grated on Evelyn's nerves. The older woman wasn't as intimidating as Amanda thought she would be, but there's no denying that Evelyn's company is an acquired taste.
By the time Amanda finishes going over the new additions to the paperwork and plans, both dogs have finished their food. Lola is sprawled between the two of them on the couch, sound asleep with tiny snores making her twitch periodically. Rick sits relaxed on the couch, one hand lightly on Lola's back, and looks like he's dozed off, too. It's such a domestic scene that Amanda can't help but miss having the right to reach out and run her hand through his messy curls.
A huff against her arm draws her attention away from Rick and Lola. Huge, mournful eyes meet hers where Milo is sitting next to the couch, his chin resting on the arm of the couch. It's the closest he's gotten to her since she arrived.
"Do you need to go out?" she asks, pitching her voice soft to try not to wake Rick and Lola.
Milo's tail wags just a bit, so Amanda sets aside the paperwork and gets a bit nosy. Logic leads her to find the dogs' leashes hanging from hooks just off the foyer. Fumbling Milo into the harness is easier than she expected because the big dog is imminently patient with her confusion. Neither Rick nor Lola stir, but then a problem occurs to Amanda. She gave her keycard back to Rick, so she will have to wake them to get back in. Sighing softly, she decides it's at least another half-hour nap for the pair, so she snags the roll of disposal bags in her pocket and makes sure she has her cell phone on her.
Luck is on her side when she and Milo make it back to the building because before she can call Rick to come down to let her in, a security guard she's met before greets her. "Haven't seen you around in a few weeks, Sergeant Shepherd. Did you and Milo have a nice walk?"
"We did." Christ, had she been here so much that the staff treats her like a resident? "Just heading back up now once Rick can let us back in. He was napping when we left."
"Did you forget your keycard?" the guard asks, tapping at his keyboard. His eyes skim the screen long enough for her to wonder what he's seeing. "I can take you up so you don't have to wake him."
The fact that he's checking that screen tells her she's still in the system, because none of his polite friendliness fades. The idea that Rick didn't deactivate her residential access card makes butterflies flutter in her stomach. She agrees, thanking the young man after the elevator ride up when he swipes his card at Rick's door to unlock it.
Once free of his leash, Milo pads across the living room and tucks himself into his crate with a yawn, curling up for a nap of his own. Amanda thinks about how subdued Rick's instincts are around her, because he stirs at the noise of them entering, but just blinks at her before closing his eyes again. She's someone he considers safe, allowed to see him at his most vulnerable.
It's terrifying because Rick's never been the safe choice, not like Luke was, and safe choice or not, Luke bailed on her when she needed him most. Rick says he loves her, and as hard as it is to believe, she thinks of similar quietly domestic scenes she's witnessed at both her brothers' houses. As wary as both Daryl and Merle have always been, around their wives? They're both giant teddy bears, gentled by the love they have for the women they live with.
With Amanda and Rick, maybe she's the one who needs taming, not him, as much as she initially thought he was a playboy looking for nothing more than a quick fuck. She makes it as far as the couch when her phone buzzes, making her suppress a groan. Rick's eyes flick open groggily.
"Yours or mine?"
"Mine," she admits, fishing it out and checking the text. "Dammit."
"Gotta go in?"
"Yeah." She texts back a reply, glad she has a spare uniform in her car to change into once she gets to the station.
Rick looks disappointed, and she wonders if, despite the breakup, he'd wanted her to stay much longer than the paperwork required. Impulsively, she steps closer, her legs brushing his knees as she steps into the vee of his legs. He inhales deeply, curiosity and wariness competing for dominance in his expression.
Amanda leans in, bracing her hands on the back of the couch, and pausing. "I believe that you love me," she admits. "But I need time."
"Okay." The acceptance is given so easily, so naturally, that she can't resist leaning in and kissing him. He responds as quickly as always, but there's no heat to the kiss, just that teasing tenderness that promises so much more if she can just let herself believe.
The ache the almost chaste kiss ignites in her chest makes it hard to breathe when she reluctantly leaves, riding alone in the elevator down to her car.
Time. Amanda just needs time.