A/N: Okay, here we go…getting deeper into this tale of romance and mystery. As always, thanks for the follows, favorites, and reviews! They are greatly appreciated! I enjoy making people happy with my stories, so your positive feedback is really sending me! Without further ado…


Chapter 6: Family Ties

Michonne quickly readjusted her robe as she and Rick pulled apart. She quietly cursed herself for getting so carried away knowing her mother and son could return at any minute. She glanced at Rick, whose face displayed a look of contrition, letting her know he was equally regretful. Before they could exchange a word, the front door swung open and in walked Andre with Anna following him.

"Deputy Grimes! I thought that was your car," Andre exclaimed, with a big smile.

"Hey Dre, how are you buddy?" Rick returned with a happy grin.

"I'm good. Me and Nana had dinner at her friend, Miss Mabel's house. It was so good!"

Anna chuckled at Andre's excitement. "It sure was, huh baby?" she agreed, patting the top of Andre's head. "Rick, I'm surprised to see you here. Everything all right?"

Rick looked over to Michonne who nervously bit her lip, likely hoping he would come up with a good excuse.

"Uh…Michonne had an incident at work today. I was there and witnessed the whole thing. I just came by to check on her, ma'am." Rick finally answered, turning back to Anna.

"Oh, that's nice of you. What happened, Michonne?"

"It's no big deal, Ma. Some guy got upset about his order and took it out on me," Michonne shrugged, doing her best to sound unbothered.

"Did he hurt you, mama?" Andre interjected with worry plastered across his adorable face.

"No, baby…I'm fine," Michonne comforted her son, drawing him in for a hug.

"I wouldn't let anyone hurt your mom, Andre. You have my word," Rick added reassuringly.

Rick and Michonne shared a not so discreet smile.

"Well, now that I know you're all right, I'll be on my way," he stated.

"Thanks for stopping by Rick, I'll see you around," Michonne replied.

"Yes, thanks for checking on my baby. You have a goodnight," Anna added.

"Wait, when can we go fishing again?" Andre blurted out, much to Michonne's chagrin.

"Fishing?" Anna asked curiously.

"Um, yes…Rick and his son invited me and Andre to go fishing while you were out of town," Michonne chuckled nervously.

"Oh…" Anna replied.

"It was so much fun, Nana! I caught a big fish, but we didn't eat it. Deputy Grimes said we can catch some to eat next time," Andre beamed.

"I'd be happy to take you again sometime, but that's up to your mom," Rick responded.

"Yeah, we'll see," Michonne nodded. "Andre, why don't you go get ready for bed. I'll be there in a second."

"Ok, mama. Bye Deputy Grimes," the boy waved before taking off towards his bedroom.

"I'm gonna turn-in myself," Anna informed them. "Rick, tell your mama I said hello."

"Will do, goodnight Mrs. Jameson," Rick stated with a warm smile.

Michonne watched her mother depart before turning to Rick with an exasperated sigh. "That was close," she whispered.

"I'm sorry…I got carried away," he nodded. "It won't happen again…shit, I seem to be sayin' that a lot where you're concerned," he chuckled.

Michonne grinned sheepishly, "I guess that means you need to be more careful, deputy."

"Yeah…I guess so," he agreed, with a cheeky grin. "Goodnight, Michonne," he added, turning towards the door.

"Rick…wait," she replied, grasping his hand.

When he turned to face her, she gifted him with a tender kiss. He reciprocated, pulling her closer to him and gripping her waist. They exchanged a few more kisses before parting.

"I'll see you later," Michonne said quietly, looking into his captivating eyes.

"Count on it," he smiled, before making his exit.

Michonne remained still, staring at the door in disbelief, stunned by what had just occurred.

"I didn't realize you and Rick had become close," Anna commented, startling her daughter.

"Oh, mama…I thought you were going to bed."

"I was…I'm just curious about what is going on with you two. He's making house calls in the middle of the night…folks don't do that for just anybody."

"Rick and I are friends, mama. He's easy to talk to…and he understands my pain."

"Really? How so?" Anna inquired, taking a seat on the sofa.

Michonne joined her, figuring she had no choice but to come clean about her budding relationship with Rick.

"He lost his daughter a couple of years ago. She was only two days old. It was devastating to him."

"Oh, I had no idea. That must have been terrible for him and his wife," Anna responded sorrowfully.

"It was…they never recovered from it," Michonne agreed.

"Okay, I understand you and Rick are connecting over the loss of your loved ones, but honey…he's married...and white. I'm not saying you can't be friends, but is there something deeper going on here?"

Michonne recognized the concern in her mother's tone. She wished she could soothe her worries by telling her nothing more than friendship existed between her and Rick, but she knew that was a lie. Rick had ignited an unexpected fire in her, which terrified her, yet she welcomed it. Being with him made her forget how unfair and tragic life could be. She desperately missed Mike and would love him forever, but she needed a comforter. The handsome, blue-eyed deputy was willingly taking on that role.

"Mom, Rick is getting a divorce, so his marriage is no longer an issue. I know him and I being close won't exactly be accepted by people in this town, but I like being around him. I don't want to give that up, however, I will be careful. I don't want you to worry about me."

Anna exhaled and patted Michonne's thigh. "Okay, honey. I trust you know what you're doin'. For the record, I'm sure Rick has grown into a fine young man. He was always a pleasant child, and he comes from good people. I'm happy you can confide in him."

"Goodnight, mommy. I love you," Michonne smiled.

"Love you too, baby," Anna returned, standing and retreating to her bedroom.

Michonne sighed softly and entered the bathroom. She sat on the edge of the porcelain tub and turned on the faucet to draw a bath. Sitting quietly as the warm water filled the tub, she licked her lips in hopes of getting one last taste of Rick's minty sweetness.

When her bath was ready, she disrobed and stepped into the tub, sinking down as the soothing warmth engulfed her body, like a cozy blanket on a cold winter's night. She smiled, resting her head against the tub and closing her eyes. Immediately, she was met with images of Rick's attractive face.

In her mind, he was kissing her lips and throat, and it felt heavenly. She ventured deeper into her musings, remembering his wandering hands gripping her body. Rick was bold and confident and that made him incredibly sexy. Normally, that type of forwardness would make her cautious, but right now it was doing nothing but turning her on. She found her own hands moving across her velvety skin, touching the places he'd touched. Eventually, her fingers were at the entrance of her wet center. She slid them inside, panting breathlessly while she pretended they were Rick's fingers. This man had caused her to lose all inhibitions, allowing her to freely pleasure herself at the thought of him. The water gently rippled around her as her fingers moved sensually in and out of her womanhood.

"Rick," she murmured, speeding up her attentions. She placed her thumb against her protruding bud, caressing it as she chased her release.

"Oooh," she huffed, rocking her pelvis against her hand. The water began to slosh around, but she didn't care. She was too far gone…too stuck in her fantasy.

After a moment, her free hand gripped the edge of the tub as her climax came crashing down, washing over her entire body from head to toe. She bit down on her lip to keep from crying out and drawing attention from the other occupants of the house.

"Shit," she sighed heavily as the intense feeling subsided.

"Rick Grimes, what have you done to me?" she questioned quietly, feeling the weight of her guilt as she acknowledged her attraction to a man other than her late husband…that guilt warring with her growing need to be in this man's orbit.


The following day, Rick and Lori sat across from one another at a circular table in the corner of their attorney, Tobin Jacobson's office. They exchanged awkward smiles as they waited for the man to make his appearance. The moment felt surreal, after years of dancing around the decision, they were finally ready to dissolve their marriage and today would mark the first step in doing so.

"So, how have things been? Is everything okay at the house?" Rick asked, hoping to lighten the somewhat somber mood.

"Things are fine at home. Is it going okay over at Daryl's?" Lori replied, twisting a long brown tendril around her slim finger.

"Yeah, it's fine," Rick responded.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Rick began to chuckle, shaking his head. Lori looked at him, reading his mind, as she laughed along with him.

"This is awkward, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yeah…pretty much. I'm sorry, I didn't want this to be weird," Rick stated.

"It doesn't have to be, Rick. We're both adults, I think we can get through this without making it difficult…at least I hope we can for our son's sake."

"I couldn't agree more. Carl is just a kid and it's our job to protect him," he nodded.

"We'll do our best. I'm glad to see things are still normal for him despite our separation."

Rick glared at her quizzically, wondering what she was getting at.

"He told me about the fishing trip with Michonne Hawthorne and her son. It sounds like he had a lot of fun."

"Yeah, we had a nice time," Rick responded, waiting with bated breath for her to lecture him about his relationship with Michonne.

"It was nice of you to invite them, but I'm curious…," she continued, sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs, "what are your intentions with Michonne?"

And there it was. Rick sighed, dragging his hand across his stubbled jawline. "My intentions?"

"Yes, Rick…what are you gaining from getting close to this woman?" she retorted.

"Lori, I think you know me well enough to know I don't do things based off hidden agendas. Michonne and I are friends. She's been through a lot and could use one, it's as simple as that," he shrugged, hoping to close the subject.

"Okay, you'll get no further objections from me," she noted, seeing right through him. It was obvious by the way his face lit up at the mention of Michonne's name that he felt something beyond friendly towards the woman.

"Are you planning on taking Carl to your parents' house for Thanksgiving?" Rick asked, eager to steer the conversation in a different direction.

"They invited us, so if it's all right with you, I'd like to take him."

"Yeah, sure…it's fine. I'll probably pick up an extra shift. I could use the overtime pay since I'm trying to find a place of my own."

"You know if you need a loan, I can…"

"No, Lori. I'll take care of it on my own. I don't want you touching your trust fund to support me. We talked about this. That money is a nest egg for Carl," he said, quickly cutting her off.

Before Lori could respond, in walked a tall, middle-aged man wearing a brown suit, with his wispy brown hair parted and swept to one side of his head.

"Lori…Rick, I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."

"Hello, Tobin…not at all. We're fine," Lori smiled.

"Okay, then…let's get started," Tobin said, taking the empty seat at the table and setting a binder down in the center. He opened it and began pulling out documents, handing copies to Rick and Lori.

"Tobin, thank you for speeding things up. Rick and I are anxious to get this over with," Lori proclaimed, glancing over to Rick, who nodded in response.

"It's no trouble, darlin'. I owe your father a favor," the man grinned.

Rick groaned at the mention of his father-in-law. Of course, this was his doing. Rick imagined he was jumping for joy when Lori informed him of their impending divorce, glad his daughter would finally be free of the man he never thought good enough for her.

"Now, I do have to let you know, even with the two of you on the same page and not contesting anything, once I file this paperwork, it could still take a few months before the divorce is finalized. The state has certain stipulations that we can't get around," Tobin informed them.

"That's fine, just as long as this process isn't drawn out too long," Rick chimed in. "Like Lori said, we're ready to move on."

Tobin offered them both an understanding nod, "I assure you it won't be."


An hour later Rick and Lori departed Tobin's office feeling at peace with their decision to allow him to handle the divorce. Rick accompanied Lori to her car, hoping to settle a few things before they parted ways.

"So, listen…," he started, leaning against her brown Jeep Wagoneer, "I'd like to have Carl for the weekend. I want to talk to him again and make sure he's handling everything okay."

"You're a good father, Rick," Lori smiled. "No matter what's happened between us, I don't want you to ever forget that."

"I appreciate that, Lori. I feel the same way about you as a mother. We did somethin' right," he chuckled.

"We did," Lori nodded. "Of course, Carl can stay with you for the weekend. I know he enjoys spending time with you and his Uncle Daryl. Besides, I'll be helping Philip with some details before the election in a few weeks."

"Speaking of that, how do you feel about your parents backing Pete Anderson? I ran into them at the diner, and they seemed pretty chummy," he asked, placing his hands on his hips.

"I don't like it," she sighed. "But you know my father, he goes his own way, with my mother usually following behind. Even still, I think Philip has a good chance of winning."

"I sure hope you're right. King County needs a progressive thinker like Blake. He's a good guy," Rick smiled sincerely.

"He is, "Lori concurred, appreciating Rick's support.

Rick opened the car door for her and watched her get in. "Well, I better head into work. I'll pick Carl up from school on Friday."

"Okay, sounds good. I'll see ya' Rick," Lori stated, closing the door and driving off.

Rick hopped into his car and started toward the station. He turned on the radio and Van Morrison's Brown Eyed Girl drifted through the speakers. Rick tapped his fingers against the steering wheel and sang along…

My brown eyed girl
You my, brown eyed girl

Do you remember when
We used to sing
Sha la la, la la, la la, la la, l-la te da
Just like that
Sha la la, la la, la la, la la, l-la te da
La te da

He was instantly overcome by thoughts of the brown eyed girl he was becoming increasingly fond of…Michonne. Flashbacks of the night before caused his skin to flush. He remembered how her succulent lips felt on his and the smoothness of her flesh on his fingertips. He knew it was risky to fall for her, after all, they were from two different walks of life, but their similarities outweighed their differences. He exhaled, knowing it was too late, he was in too deep. Michonne gripped him, and he was all too willing to fall into her clutches.


That afternoon, Michonne and Sasha entered the posh beauty salon frequented by many of the women in the neighborhood. They were greeted by friendly smiles and waves from customers waiting to be pampered. The smell of hair oil and nail products was heavy in the air as they took a seat in the waiting area. A small black-and-white television sat in the corner, along with a water dispenser, and a rack of magazines.

"Hey ladies, we'll be right with you," a plump caramel-skinned woman informed them before heading toward the workstations.

"I'm glad you joined me, Michie. I wanted to make up for the other day. You're right, I shouldn't have laid into you the way I did…I just worry about you. You're my only cousin," Sasha apologized.

"I know, Sash…but you have nothing to worry about. I'm fine," Michonne replied, grabbing a copy of Jet Magazine off the rack.

"I still think you should steer clear of Rick Grimes, but I won't bug you about it…for now."

"Sasha," Michonne stated firmly. "I told you, I don't need your blessing to be friends with Rick, or anyone for that matter. I'm not giving you a hard time about getting close to Bob, a man you hardly know anything about."

Sasha scoffed, "Like you know so much about Rick," she shot back.

"I know enough," Michonne shrugged, turning the page of her magazine without so much as a glance in her cousin's direction.

"Michie, please don't compare you and Rick to me and Bob. We have a hell of a lot more in common than you and the great white hope."

Michonne had heard enough. She closed the magazine and glared at Sasha.

"You know…usually I appreciate how outspoken you are, but you're really starting to get on my nerves. I asked you to butt out and I meant it. I like Rick…Drelikes Rick. I'm not doing anything wrong by being friends with him. For the first time since his father died, I watched my son smile, laugh, and have fun…and you know who was responsible for that? Rick and his son, Carl. I'm not going to deny my baby or myself happiness because you have a problem with white people."

Sasha sat stunned and speechless at Michonne's sternness. "Okay, then. Have it your way. I just hope you know what you're doing."

"Sasha, Patty is ready for you," the same woman from earlier, called out.

Without another word, Sasha stood and made her way back to the manicurist's station.

Michonne sighed and resumed looking through the magazine. She felt bad for being at odds with her cousin, but Sasha's perception of Rick was purely based on him being a white cop and nothing else. She didn't know how kind and understanding he was. In fact, she knew nothing about his character. Sasha's badgering was beginning to piss her off and she needed to make it stop.

"Hello again, Michonne isn't it? I'm Nora…from the block party," the curly-haired woman welcomed Michonne.

"Yes, Nora…how are you?" Michonne smiled, placing the magazine back on the rack and standing to her feet.

"I'm good. I'll be taking care of you today, follow me."

Nora led Michonne to the back of the salon and gestured for her to take a seat in the chair at her workstation.

"I didn't know you were a hairdresser," Michonne smiled, getting comfortable in the seat.

"Yeah, I've been doing it for a little while now. I love it…I like making women feel pretty," Nora smiled. "So, what can I do for you today, darlin'?"

"Just a wash, blow dry, and silk press will be fine," Michonne replied.

"Sure thing," Nora stated, running her fingers through Michonne's thick crown. "You have beautiful hair…very healthy."

"Thank you," Michonne smirked. "I had a great stylist in Atlanta."

"Mmm, if you don't mind me asking, how are you adjusting to being in King County?" Nora asked, placing a black cape over Michonne's purple dress.

"I'm doing okay. It's where I was born and spent part of my childhood, but I haven't lived here in so long, it's taken some getting used to for me and my son."

"Yes, Andre is your son. He's so cute," Nora chuckled.

"Yeah, that's my little peanut. He's quite fond of your daughter. She's beautiful by the way," Michonne noted.

"Ginny is my little princess. She keeps me on my toes."

"So, it's just the two of you…no husband or boyfriend?" Michonne inquired cautiously, hoping she didn't come across as nosy.

"No, Ginny's father isn't around," Nora responded flatly.

Michonne took the hint and changed the subject, "Okay, well let's get started on my hair."


By later that evening, Michonne and Sasha had put their differences aside and were both looking forward to a nice family dinner at the Jameson residence. Michonne welcomed Sasha and Bob as they arrived, bearing gifts of wine and a fresh bouquet of flowers.

"For the lady of the house," Bob stated, handing the flowers to Michonne.

"That would be my mother, but thank you," she smiled appreciatively.

"We brought a bottle of red and white; I wasn't sure what Auntie was cooking tonight," Sasha added, holding up the two bottles.

"I'm sure either will go well with the food," Michonne grinned, leading them into the dining room.

"There she is…my beautiful and feisty niece!" Anna beamed from her seat at the table.

"Hey Auntie," Sasha laughed, kissing her aunt on the cheek. "You're looking fine yourself, I'm loving this outfit," she added, referring to Anna's red, chiffon pantsuit.

"Thanks, honey. It's good to see you again, Bob," Anna smiled.

"Thanks for having me, ma'am," he replied.

"Bob, you go ahead and have a seat. Sasha, help me carry out the food," Michonne instructed.

"Hi, Sasha!" Andre exclaimed, joining them in the dining room.

"Hey, big boy. I swear you get more and more handsome every day, lookin' just like your daddy," Sasha gleamed.

Michonne shot her a look, warning her not to cross the line tonight. Sasha heeded the warning and followed Michonne into the kitchen.

"I really love this house," Bob stated, looking around to admire the quaint home.

"Yeah, I like it. It's a bit smaller than my house in Atlanta, but it was just me, so I didn't need much space. I got a good amount for my previous house, plus Lawrence made sure I was taken care of in the event of his death, so I'm doing all right here. It's a good thing too, because I can help Michonne."

"Michonne, from what I've heard of Mike, I'm surprised you needed to move back here. He didn't set anything up for you?" Bob questioned, as Michonne and Sasha carried in platters of stuffed Cornish hens, green beans and mashed potatoes with gravy.

Michonne was caught off guard by Bob's intrusive inquiry into her financial affairs, once again glancing at Sasha, who simply shrugged.

"Well, Bob…Mike was very responsible and took good care of his family, but he didn't get around to setting things up in case he died. Mortality was something he didn't like to think about…neither of us did. We always thought we had more time," she stated, her voice growing quiet as she pictured her late husband.

Anna sensed her daughter's discomfort and stepped in, "So, Bob…tell us more about yourself. I'm anxious to get to know the man who's managed to pin this one down," she teased, pointing to Sasha.

"Well, there isn't much to tell," he chuckled. "I grew up in Atlanta as an only child. My daddy was a carpenter and my mama stayed home with me. We didn't have much, but we made it work."

"Mm-hmm, I see," Anna responded, fixing herself a plate.

"He's being modest, Auntie," Sasha declared, pouring the adults glasses of white wine.

"Really, I'm not," Bob laughed. "I graduated from high school, spent some time training as an EMT and joined the army, went over to Vietnam, got injured and came home."

"What did you do after that?" Michonne inquired, taking a bite of her food. "What led you here?"

"Well, like I said before, my parents died a few years ago, nothing was left for me in Atlanta…and I got into a bit of trouble there," he noted pointedly, narrowing his eyes on Michonne.

"What kind of trouble?" Michonne retorted, returning his glare.

"Michonne, I don't think we need to get into that." Sasha chimed in.

"No, it's okay, Sash. I'm not ashamed of it. I got into trouble with the law for something I didn't do," Bob answered.

"Did you get arrested?!" Andre asked with furrowed brows.

"I did," Bob confirmed with a nod.

"It was just some trumped up charges the pigs were trying to pin on him…something about a store robbery. He didn't do it!" Sasha proclaimed.

Michonne glared at her cousin, shaking her head in disbelief, thinking about all the times Sasha gave her grief about Rick, while all along dating a potential criminal. She hoped Bob was telling the truth, but she couldn't help but be skeptical of his story.

"Okay, let's all calm down and enjoy this delicious food," Anna interjected. "Whatever happened in your past doesn't matter as long as you're heading in the right direction," she told Bob, patting his hand.

"I appreciate that, ma'am. That's exactly what I'm trying to do…get my life in order. Your niece has been a big help," he smiled, kissing Sasha on the cheek.


An hour later, they were enjoying slices of 7-Up pound cake and coffee. After the initial banter, the conversation had remained light, but Michonne was still feeling uncomfortable and a bit annoyed at her cousin. She was startled by the sound of the doorbell over her dinner companions' laughter.

"I'll get it," she stated, standing from the table and walking to the front door.

She opened it and immediately felt weak at the sight of her visitor.

"Hey, there," Rick met her with a charming smile.

"Hi…what are you doing here?" she asked, stepping outside and closing the door.

"Are you busy?" he asked.

"We have dinner guests…my cousin Sasha and her boyfriend Bob."

"Oh, sorry to interrupt," he apologized.

"It's okay…I'm happy to see you," she smiled bashfully.

"Yeah?" he smirked.

"Yeah," she chuckled, loving how he effortlessly made her feel giddy.

"Your hair is pretty," he stated, running his thumb along her silky tresses.

"You like it? I just got it done," she smiled, feeling her cheeks blush, happy he wouldn't notice in the dark.

"It looks really nice."

"Well, what brings you by?" she asked, arching her eyebrow in curiosity.

"It's been a long day and I needed to unwind. I was hoping you'd take a drive with me."

"A drive…where?"

"There's a little spot I like…it's not far but it's secluded enough for us to be alone," he said, hoping she would agree to his impromptu outing.

Michonne looked hesitantly toward the door, contemplating Rick's invitation.

"I understand if you can't get away…I just thought I'd come over in case you were free," he reassured her.

"No…we're done eating, so I'd love to join you. Just let me ask mama if she'll watch Dre."

"Ok, great," he beamed.


A short while later Rick and Michonne pulled up to a secluded, wooded area on the outskirts of town. Rick parked and shut off the engine, looking over to Michonne.

"This is it," he announced.

"Where are we?" Michonne questioned, looking out the car window at the vast darkness surrounding the area.

"I used to come here as a kid. I was a boy scout, and we would explore the nature trails."

Michonne offered him an amused look, making him chuckle.

"What's that look?" he grinned

"Nothing, it's just…why am I not surprised you were a boy scout?" she laughed.

"You're makin' me feel like a walking stereotype," he joked.

"I'm sorry…I didn't mean anything by it," she said earnestly.

"I'm just teasin'," he smiled. "Come on…let's get out."

They exited the car and sat on top of the hood. The air outside was a bit chilly but neither of them minded, eager to enjoy a moment of peace in the serene setting.

"It's so peaceful. Do you come here often?" Michonne asked, turning to stare at his profile. She admired the slope of his nose and strong jawline. He was damn near perfect, and she felt herself getting warm at the sight of him.

He looked over to her and she quickly averted her eyes.

"Yeah…when I need to clear my mind," he responded. "I usually come and look at the stars, there's no better view in King County."

Michonne hadn't ventured many places in King County but judging from the sparkling treasures dancing across the night sky, she was inclined to agree.

"What's troubling you, Rick?" she asked, reading his somber tone.

He sighed, crossing his arms across his chest. "Lori and I officially filed for divorce today."

"Oh…" she said softly.

"It's not that I'm regrettin' it or anything…it just feels weird to put an end to such a long relationship."

"I'm sure it does," Michonne nodded.

"I know I'm making the right decision, I just want it to be over soon, so we can get back to some sense of normalcy, you know?"

"Mm-hmm," Michonne responded, gently rubbing his back. "Is Carl doing okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. He's gonna stay with me this weekend and I'll have another talk with him."

"That's probably a good idea," she noted, pulling her legs up on the car and bending her knees to her chest.

"Are you cold?" Risk asked, noticing her changing position.

"No, I'm okay," she smiled. "Rick…I want to ask you something."

He looked over to her expectantly, "What is it?"

"Is Lori as bad as her father seems to be? I mean…is she racist?" she asked carefully.

Rick remained quiet for a spell, a little shocked by her question.

"No, she's nothing like her father…I wouldn't marry someone who thought like that. I wasn't raised that way and I don't want my son around it."

Michonne exhaled a sigh of relief, "That's good to know."

"Michonne, speaking of Lori's family…I think they may have a connection to your mom and dad," he added.

"What do you mean?" she asked curiously.

"Lori found a picture of your parents with my mom and her parents. I'm not sure when it was taken, but it made me wonder how they knew each other. I asked my mom, and she was pretty vague."

"That's strange," Michonne stated just above a whisper. "My parents never mentioned anything about the Shepard's, and I can't imagine they would be the type of people keeping their company."

"I suppose you're right," Rick nodded. "The photo could have come from some event they all just happened to attend."

"Yeah…maybe," Michonne pondered, feeling unsettled by Rick's revelation.

"Hey, we can talk about something else if you want," Rick suggested, sensing her uneasiness.

"I don't want to talk or think…I just want to be at peace," she stated, looking intensely into his eyes.

"Okay, I got an idea…let's dance," he said, hopping to his feet.

"We have no music," she laughed, shaking her head, as Rick helped her off the car.

"Sure, we do," he corrected her, reaching inside the vehicle to turn on the radio. He rolled down the window so they could hear better.

They were enveloped by the sound of Sam Cooke's melodic voice belting out A Change is Gonna Come

I was born by the river, in a little tent
Oh, and just like the river
I've been running ever since

Rick held out his hand and drew Michonne closer to him. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, as he gripped her waist. They stared into each other's eyes, swaying to the melody…

It's been too hard living
But I'm afraid to die
'Cause I don't know what's up there
Beyond the sky

"Is this okay?" he asked, holding her even closer.

She could smell his cologne, it reminded her of pine trees, earthy and robust. It was comforting as she melted into his embrace.

"Yes, it's nice," she smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. "Mike used to love dancing."

Rick didn't let the mention of her late husband sour the mood. He liked that she felt comfortable enough to talk to him about her lost love.

"Oh yeah?" he asked, keeping in step with her as they moved effortlessly…

It's been a long
A long time coming
But I know oh-o-oh a change gon' come
Oh, yes it will

"Sometimes we would put Andre to bed and dance in the middle of our living room, listening to Motown records. Those were some of my happiness moments."

Oh, there been times that I thought
I couldn't last for long
But now I think I'm able, to carry on

"That sounds really special," Rick replied softly. "Lori isn't much of a dancer, but I enjoy it."

"You're quite good at it," she complimented, once again, meeting his eyes…

It's been a long
A long time coming
But I know oh-o-oh a change gon' come
Oh, yes it will

"Thank you," he whispered, before gently lifting her chin and capturing her lips.

They continued to sway and kiss as the radio announcer came on air to announce the next song. Michonne's hands made their way into Rick's wavy hair, while his trailed down to her plump bottom, squeezing hungrily as he drew her nearer. The kiss intensified as Rick suddenly lifted her off her feet and carried them both to the car, slowing placing her back on the hood.

"Mmm," he moaned, his hands trailing under her sweater and across the hem of her pants.

She shuddered when she felt his touch ghost across the bare skin of her abdomen.

"Rick…" she panted, feeling herself grow wet from his affections.

"Hmm?" he murmured, breaking their kiss to explore her neck with his warm tongue.

The sensation was too much for her to bear.

"Oh god," she cried out as he unbuttoned her pants and maneuvered his fingers inside. She spread her legs to give him better access, her head spinning from the excitement of being touched by him.

"Do you want me to stop?" Rick asked between soft kisses to her throat.

She didn't want him to stop. She wanted him to make love to her right there, in the middle of the woods, on top of the hood of his car, but she knew they had to stop. As much as she wanted him, it didn't feel like the right time.

When she remained silent, Rick halted his attentions and removed his hand from her pants. He gazed at her, attempting to read her expression.

"Michonne, are you okay?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

"Yes…I just think we need to take things slow," she replied apologetically.

"Yeah…whatever you want, sweetheart," he agreed, caressing her cheek with his thumb.

"I'm sorry. It's just…I've never been touched by another man…in that way. Mike was my one and only."

"Are you kidding me? You have absolutely nothin' to be sorry about, Michonne. "This thing happens on your terms, or it doesn't happen at all."

Yes, he's damn near perfect, she thought to herself. "Thank you," she whispered, offering him one last kiss.

Their lips lingered together for a few moments, neither wanting to break away, but eventually they did.

"Come on…I'll take you home," Rick stated, pleased that she'd given him her time, and just a little piece of herself.


"The wild things roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth… and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws… but Max stepped into his private boat and waved good-bye and sailed back over a year… and in and out of weeks…and through a day and into the night…of his very own room where he found his supper waiting for him… and it was still hot," Negan read, before closing the copy of Maurice Sendak's Where the Wild Things Are.

"Daddy, why did Max give up being king of the wild?" Ginny asked, as she laid in bed, with her bright hazel-green eyes looking up at her father.

"Well, princess…it's fun to be king and do whatever you want, but if it means being away from the people you love most, you'll never truly be happy," he answered, removing a few curls from her forehead.

The little girl nodded, not fully understanding what he meant, but smiling all the same.

"How's school goin' baby girl?"

"I like school! My teacher is nice, and I have so many friends! My new best friend is Andre Hawthorne, he moved here from Atlanta."

"Is that so?" Negan responded.

"Mm-hmm, his daddy died and him and his mommy were really sad, but now they're feeling better 'cause they have new friends in King County," the little girl beamed.

Negan's interest was piqued. He thought about Michonne and Rick's interactions at the diner, how friendly they seemed and Rick's incessant need to defend her honor. It got him wondering just how close his partner had become to the beautiful woman.

"I'm glad you're bein' a good friend, princess. You go on to sleep. Daddy will see you soon," he said, kissing her forehead.

"Goodnight, daddy," she smiled.

Negan pulled the pink comforter over her tiny body, switched off her lamp, and proceeded out of the bedroom.

He walked into Nora's room, finding her standing in front of the mirror, combing through her thick curls. He remained still for a moment, admiring her figure in the silky, white nightgown she wore. She caught his reflection in the mirror and smiled at him.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, walking over to her, sweeping her hair aside and kissing the back of her neck.

"You're such a charmer," she gleamed, turning to face him.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in for a kiss. "I'm gettin' ready to take off."

Nora released a frustrated sigh and turned back to the mirror to continue tending to her hair. "I'm tired of not being able to wake up next to you."

"You knew how things would be when we started this, sweetheart. Sometimes we can't have everything we want," he reminded her.

"This isn't me asking for an extra piece of cake for dessert, this is me asking to be with the man I love, for him to be here with his daughter…like a normal family," she shot back, turning to face him once again.

"Nora, we ain't a normal family. I'm married…you know that, and need I remind you that folks around here don't think too highly of mixed couples. Do you really want to deal with the problems that will come our way if folks find out about us?"

"Am I not worth it? Is your daughter not worth it?!," she shouted.

"Keep your damn voice down!" he cautioned her.

Nora walked past him and sat on the bed, tears burning the back of her eyes.

"Negan, I don't want to end up like my mother, pining for my long-lost love for the rest of my life but never truly being able to be with him. Sure, her husband was great, but she never got over my biological dad. Yet, she never had the courage to go and find him. She was too afraid of the hatred they would face as a couple."

Negan sat beside her and took her hand into his, listening intently.

"I don't want to keep living this lie with you, Negan. Mixed couples aren't unheard of…we can be together if that's what you want," she stated sincerely, gazing longingly at him.

He pondered her sentiments, feeling torn inside. He deeply cared for her, but there was no way he could blow up his life, it would cost him his marriage, possibly his job, and certainly the respect he'd worked so hard to gain in this town. His family would never forgive him for the betrayal.

"Sweetheart, I do love you…I've probably loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you, lookin' lonely and afraid while the deputies grilled you down at the station. I was there for you then and I'm here for you now, but you know I can't commit to anything more," he told her, stroking her back.

"You saved me…I don't know where I would have been if you hadn't convinced Dale to drop the theft charges," she offered appreciatively.

"That old fucker grinds my gears. You weren't stealin' anything."

"Well, I did try and leave without paying," she reminded him.

"I don't give a damn. He could have easily given you the meal for free. It was obvious you were just down on your luck and needin' somebody to help you. That's what I'm always gonna do…I'll take care of you and our baby girl. You have my word, darlin'."

He placed his forehead against hers, sealing his promise with a kiss.


Thirty minutes later, Negan returned to the home he shared with his wife. Sherry was waiting for him on the sofa. He glanced at her as he kicked off his boots and hung his jacket in the coat closet. She said nothing and neither did he. He simply made his way to their bedroom to undress.

Sherry exhaled and followed behind him. She stood in the doorway of their bedroom, watching as he removed his uniform shirt. As she approached him, she noticed several long scratches running the length of his back. Her blood was boiling inside as she pondered how her husband acquired said scratches. She had her suspicions and it infuriated her.

Sherry Marion had always been an agreeable woman, even before she married Negan, often finding herself being taken advantage of, and underappreciated, but in this moment, she found her voice, deciding to confront the man she had devoted her life to, finally seeking confirmation of his infidelity.

"You were supposed to be home hours ago. Where were you, Negan?" she asked harshly.

"I was working Sherry, now I'm tired and I just want to shower and hit the sack," he groaned, not bothering to look at her.

"You liar!" she shouted, beating her fists against his bare back.

He stood stunned for a second, before turning and grabbing her wrists.

"What the hell has gotten into you, woman?!" he growled.

"I'm tired of you lying to me!" she replied, trying to break free of his strong grip.

"Then stop fuckin' askin' questions you don't want the answer to," he stated flatly, before letting her go and storming into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

He braced the edge of the sink, staring at himself in the mirror and sighing in frustration. Living this double life was taking its toll on him. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep it up.

He finished undressing, stepped into the tub and turned on the shower. Adjusting the temperature to the hottest he could stand, he dropped his head and let the water wash over him. Before long, his thoughts drifted to the new object of his obsession, Michonne Hawthorne.


The following weekend, Lori sat at Philip's dining room table reviewing his itinerary before the upcoming election.

"This is it; I think we've done all we can do, now it's in the people's hands," she stated, watching him at the stove as he stirred the contents of a large pot.

"Yep, nothing left to do but wait," he agreed, glancing over at her.

"Smells good," she complimented.

"It's Patricia's recipe," he grinned, dishing up two bowlfuls of beef stew and meeting her at the table.

"Penny isn't joining us for dinner?" Lori inquired.

"No, she's staying the night at a friend's house. Go ahead and try your stew, I'm anxious to know the verdict," he chuckled.

Lori took a heaping spoonful into her mouth, enjoying the savory taste.

"It's delicious," she grinned, taking another bite.

"Really? I'm glad you like it," he beamed.

"Patricia must have been some cook."

"She was…come to think of it, there was nothing she wasn't good at. She was a remarkable woman," Philip stated reflectively.

"It's obvious you miss her a lot," Lori replied, reaching across the table and lightly stroking his hand.

"Every day, but she's in a better place now…this world wasn't meant for people like her. Her heart was so big, she'd do anything for anyone. Penny is a lot like her," he smiled, sipping his sweet tea.

"She sounds wonderful," Lori nodded.

"Truth is…I should have been a better husband to her. I worked too much…even after she got sick, I didn't stop. I wasted so much precious time," he sighed.

Once again, Lori caressed his hand as she listened to him speak about his late wife. The pain and regret were evident in his sad eyes.

"We both believed she would beat the cancer," he continued.

"I'm sure she understood," Lori comforted him. "We always think we'll have more time."

Philip noticed the reflection in her tone and wondered if the conversation had triggered thoughts about her own marriage.

"Tell me about you and Rick. How did you meet?"

She smiled as images of the past danced across her mind. It was a happy time for her and Rick, before life hit them with all the responsibilities and rude awakenings that came with being an adult.

"Rick and I met during our freshman year in high school. I was immediately taken with how handsome he was…he had this boyish charm about him and the most amazing blue eyes I'd ever seen," she recalled.

"Wow, I didn't realize you two had known each other so long," Philip responded with surprise.

"At the time, I was dating this other guy, Spencer Monroe, he was such a self-absorbed jerk, but my daddy approved of him, so I gave him a chance," she shrugged.

Philip's eyes widened, "Congressman Douglas Monroe's son?"

"Yes," she answered, rolling her eyes. "I'm glad I dodged that bullet. He grew up to be an even bigger jerk," she laughed. "Anyway, I met Rick and he was so sweet. He played baseball and we were both on the student government. He was quiet and smart but always looked out for the little guy…I admired that about him."

"No surprise he grew up to be a sheriff's deputy," Philip noted.

"Yeah, it's a noble profession but not good enough, according to my father, the great Jack Shepard," she stated sarcastically.

Philip chuckled at her statement. "Your father doesn't like Rick?"

"Not particularly, but I didn't let that stop me from falling in love and marrying him. Things worked out the way they were meant to…" she replied, her voice trailing off as she thought about their current situation.

Philip sensed something was at odds between her and Rick and he could no longer ignore it.

"Lori, what's wrong?" he asked plainly.

She looked at him through sorrowful eyes, unsure where to start.

"Rick and I lost a child…two years ago our newborn daughter passed away."

"I'm sorry," he responded sympathetically.

"It was very painful for both of us…and the final nail in the coffin for our marriage," she asserted.

"What do you mean?" Philip asked, taking her hand in his.

"We're getting divorced…we filed a few days ago."

"Oh, Lori…I had no idea," he responded, squeezing her hand. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'll be fine. Rick was my first love, but we haven't been in love for a long time. It's best we set each other free. I hope he finds the happiness he deserves, he's a wonderful man and a great father to Carl."

Philip nodded knowingly, "Still, it's difficult to let go of your first love."

"You're talking about Lily, aren't you?" Lori queried.

"Yes," he nodded. "But she's long gone."

"How come you never tried to find her?"

"I don't know…time just kept passing…weeks, months, then years. Eventually, I met Patricia and we started a life together," he sighed.

Lori moved closer to him, so she could look him in the eyes when she made her next statement.

"Philip, please don't take this the wrong way…but do you really believe Lily lost the child she was carrying?"

A stunned expression appeared on his face, wondering why she would ask him such a thing.

"Yes…Lily would never lie to me. I have no reason to question what she told me."

"I'm sorry…I don't mean to upset you," Lori apologized.

He released her hand from his grip and sat up straight in his chair, silently contemplating the very notion that his love hadn't been telling the truth.

"Philip…please don't be angry with me," Lori pleaded.

She recognized the hurt in his eyes, and it pained her. She'd grown to care for him beyond their working relationship. Without thinking too much and running the risk of changing her mind, she lifted from her chair and straddled his lap. He looked up to her with a questioning gaze, just as she placed her lips to his.

Caught off guard but quickly recovering, he wrapped his arms around her body and deepened the kiss. Before long, she was lying on the table as Philip removed her pants and underwear, then his own, both giving into their long-awaited desires to indulge in one another.


"Andre, slow down," Michonne scolded, as she watched her son round the corner of the supermarket aisle.

"Carl!" she heard Andre belt out and her heart skipped a beat. Surely Rick wasn't far behind.

"Hey, Dre!" Carl returned, just as Michonne caught up to her eager little boy. "Hi Mrs. Hawthorne."

"Hello Carl. Are you here with your dad?"

"Yeah, he just went to look for…"

"Carl," Rick called out, suddenly appearing before them. "Oh, Michonne…hey," he smirked.

"Hi, Rick…I was just investigating your whereabouts with Carl here," she grinned.

"Well, look no further…here I am," he teased flirtatiously.

The boys watched their parents stare at one another through star-crossed eyes, trying to decipher the meaning of their enamored looks.

"Dre and I were getting some ingredients to make chocolate chip cookies," Michonne finally stated.

"I thought you said you couldn't bake?" Rick chuckled.

"I never said I couldn't bake…I said it isn't my strongest quality. Besides, practice makes perfect," she quipped, winking at him.

He loved her witty sense of humor, just one more thing to add to his growing list of reasons to be close to Michonne Hawthorne.

"Well, Carl and I are making dinner tonight. You and Dre should join us, we can cook together," he suggested.

"Ooh, mama…can we?" Andre enthusiastically requested.

"Neat idea, dad!" Carl chimed in.

"I don't know, we wouldn't want to impose," Michonne answered reluctantly.

"Come on…it'll be fun," Rick coaxed, shooting her an irresistible look with his baby blues.

She wondered if he knew the power those eyes had over her? They were completely disarming.

"Okay, let's do it," she relented.

"Great, you can follow me back to Daryl's place," Rick smiled.

"Are you sure he'll be okay with it?" Michonne questioned.

"Of course, but he's working late tonight, so he won't be home for a while anyway."

"Okay," she smiled.

"Okay," he returned.


A short while later, the four of them were standing in Daryl's small kitchen, performing various duties. Michonne was chopping lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers for a salad, while Rick stood at the stove, browning ground beef and Italian sausage for his spaghetti sauce. Meanwhile, the boys were hovering over a large mixing bowl giving their best attempt at making cookie dough.

"We need more chocolate chips," Carl said, reaching for the bag of tasty morsels.

Andre promptly used his big boy muscles to stir them into the dough. "These are gonna be sooo good!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah, I can't wait to taste them," Carl concurred.

"Me too," Michonne offered, looking up from her spread of vegetables.

"Me three," Rick joked, causing them to laugh. "The ice-cream scooper is in that long drawer over there," he said, pointing the boys in the right direction.

"I'll get it," Andre said, hopping down from the chair he was standing on in order to reach the countertop.

He retrieved the scooper and the boys waisted no time, placing perfectly formed balls of dough onto the cookie sheet.

Michonne observed their work, "Great job, guys…these look great."

"Thanks!" Carl exclaimed, passing the cookies to Rick to place in the oven. "Dad, can I show Dre some of my comics while the food is cooking?" he asked.

"Yeah, everything will be ready soon," Rick announced.

The children quickly departed to the basement, leaving Rick and Michonne to finish the meal.

"Here, come and taste this…tell me what it needs," Rick requested.

Michonne traipsed over to him, waiting patiently as he dipped a large wooden spoon into the sauce and placed it to her mouth, holding his hand underneath to catch any drippings.

She opened and took the spoon into her mouth, closing her eyes at the delectable flavor. "Oh wow…that's good."

"It's okay?" he inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"It's better than okay, it's amazing," she confirmed, taking the spoon from him to get another taste.

"It's my mama's recipe," he informed her, getting distracted by the way she licked the spoon. "You know, you really oughta be careful doing that."

"Doing what?" she asked, her brows furrowing.

"That," he emphasized, gesturing to the spoon near her supple lips.

"Licking the spoon? Why do I need to be careful? It isn't too hot."

"Oh, that's where you're wrong," he chuckled, taking a bit of sauce on his finger and smearing it on her bottom lip.

"Rick!" she chastised but was quickly cut off by his lips engulfing hers.

She placed the spoon on the stove and melted into his kiss, wrapping her hands around his neck.

"You're right, it was much too hot," she sighed, once they came up for air.

Rick gifted her with a cheeky grin, backing her up against the counter as he dove back in. He gripped her ass through her fitted corduroy pants and made a meal of the sweet flesh on her throat.

"Dad, is it ready yet? We're hungry," they heard Carl calling from the basement.

A few moments later and little footsteps could be heard, ascending the stairs leading into the kitchen. Rick and Michonne swiftly ceased their make-out session and moved away from one another.

"Ahem," Rick cleared his throat as the boys reentered the kitchen. "Yeah, go have a seat at the table, while Michonne and I plate everything up."

Michonne shot him a playful smirk, causing him to shake his head in embarrassment at almost being caught by their very impressionable little boys.


After stuffing themselves with Spaghetti, salad, and chocolate chips cookies, the four of them were ready to relax for a little while, not yet ready to call it a night. Andre and Carl retreated to the basement to play board games, while the two adults settled in the den, sharing the sofa and watching I Dream of Jeannie on Daryl's small, black-and-white television.

Rick gazed at Michonne as she laughed at the show, wishing he could bottle up that laugh and carry it with him everywhere he went. He loved the sound of it…he loved to see her being carefree and happy.

"Did you have a good time tonight?" he asked, breaking through her amusement at Jeannie's antics.

She smiled at him and nodded, "Yes, thank you for a wonderful time, Rick. It was simple and just what Dre and I needed. I think I can get used to having you around," she smirked.

"Is that right?" he pondered.

"It is," she replied softly, her eyes shifting to his sexy lips.

He caught on quickly, pulling her onto his lap, "Come here."

She straddled him, kissing him with urgency, moaning softly in the process.

Rick ran his hands up her back and into her hair, holding her head in place as he explored her mouth with his tongue. "You're so sweet" he whispered in between kisses.

Michonne could feel his dick hardening through his jeans and it made her hot. She desperately wanted to feel him inside of her. She closed her eyes and pictured herself wreathing underneath him as his cock slid in and out, causing his name to fall from her lips.

"Rick," she purred, beginning a circular grind of her hips over his lap, the resulting friction making her wet with arousal.

Rick unbuttoned the top three buttons on her blouse and pushed it off her shoulders, offering sensual bites and kisses to her creamy flesh. After a moment, his hand found it's way down her pants and into her silk panties. Two fingers slowly entered her dripping center and she gasped in response.

"God, you're so wet," he whispered, nearly cumming in his pants at the feel of her.

She continued to grind on him as his fingers plunged in and out of her sweet spot. She recalled how just a few days ago, she told him she wanted to take things slow, now she was allowing him to finger her on his best friend's couch with their children in the basement, a mere level below them…but damn it, he felt so good.

"Don't stop," she moaned, as he sped up his movements.

He used his free hand to bring her lips back to his, offering her a series of kisses through her pleasurable panting.

"Let go," he breathed into her ear, palming her pussy to apply pressure to her clit. She eagerly rode his hand over the edge, releasing a drawn-out moan as she came.

"Ooooh," she panted, riding the glorious wave.

"Shhh," Rick warned her, secretly pleased at how easily he'd made her come undone.

He gave her a few more strokes before slowly removing his hand. Michonne placed her forehead to his, attempting to catch her breath.

"Wow," she sighed, her eyes still shut tight.

"Good wow?" Rick chuckled.

"Amazing wow," she retorted, finally opening her eyes to look at him. "Rick, what am I gonna do with you?"

"Let me make you feel good," he whispered sexily, once again recapturing her lips.


It was past midnight and Jack Shepard lie in bed, tossing and turning in his sleep. The images were so clear in his mind, causing him great distress as he tried to will himself to wake up…

A young Jack and Darlene stood outside on the green lawn behind Darlene's family church, watching as Eleanore Grimes approached with Lawrence and Anna Jameson.

Jack's face twisted into a frown as he laid eyes upon the sharp-dressed Negro man and his equally put together wife.

"Thank you for meeting us here," Eleanore stated to Jack.

"It wasn't my idea, I'm doing this because Dar asked me to, but let's make this quick," Jack responded flatly.

Eleanore smoothed her hands over her yellow dress, her piercing blue eyes locked on the ornery man.

"Even still…I brought us all here to try and make peace, once and for all," she countered.

"I have no need to make peace with this man," Lawrence huffed.

"Just listen," Anna pleaded, squeezing her husband's arm.

"Well, that's just fine with me," Jack quipped. "If I never lay eyes on you again, it will be too soon," he addressed Lawrence.

"I think you're worried about your family fortune, is that right Jack? Is that why you don't want me around? Well, you can have it. I want nothing to do with you people," Lawrence shot back.

"Lawrence, I understand you're angry, but I wish you'd reconsider," Darlene implored.

"Yes, baby…think about this," Anna encouraged.

"Anna, I would rather struggle than to owe anything to the Shepard's."

Before anyone could speak again, they were interrupted by a young man from the church, carrying a large camera.

"Hey folks, I'm glad I caught you all together. It will make a great picture for the church newsletter, let people see how successful this 'coming together' event was," he stated, holding up air quotes.

Not giving them a chance to protest, he quickly snapped a few pictures as they each looked on in bewilderment.

"Jack…Jack, wake up," Darlene called, gently shaking her husband's shoulder as he groaned in his sleep.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice gruff from broken sleep, and face damp with sweat.

"You were tossing and turning…what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Dar. Just go back to sleep," he lied, turning away from her, shaken by ghosts from the past.


Lyrics: "Brown Eyed Girl" by Van Morrison and "A Change Gonna Come" by Sam Cooke.

Book passage: "Where the Wild Things Are" by Maurice Sendak


Okay, so most of you have probably figured out one of the biggest secrets, but there is more to untangle. Thanks for sticking with me! Be safe and well! #KeepRichonneAlive