The Stranger On The Roadside

AN: Thank you for reviewing the last chapter.

The Talk, Part IV

After breakfast in Houston...

"No, Nana... I don't wanna go." Teia screamed with tears streaming down her face. The distressed child wrenched her hand from her grandmother's grasp and sprinted back into the house like a flash of lightning streaking across the sky. Teia tore through the living room and bolted into the kitchen, where her parents stood at opposite sides of the room, sizing up the other, reassessing their strategy before taking their first shot.

Both parents caught a flash of yellow in their peripheral vision and turned to see their daughter. Teia raced towards her father and leapt into his outstretched arms.

"What's the matter, princess?" Rick asked, surprised, believing that conflict had been resolved when he promised to take his daughter for ice cream after lunch.

"Daddy, I don't wanna go to the park with Nana. I want you to go with you." Teia sobbed, and warm tears streaked her beautiful face, and her tiny body shook.

Rick crouched and kissed Teia's cheek and held her tight. He felt her little heart race, and his tightened because he hated seeing his daughter in such a state. "Don't cry, sweetheart. You promised daddy you would go to the park with nana before lunch; then, daddy would take you to the park after supper. And you remember, a Grimes' always keep their promise, right?"

Teia acknowledged with a nod of the head with teary blue eyes, but her tiny arms held her father tight because she feared he would be gone if she released him.

"You won't go away, Daddy?"

"No, sweetheart. Daddy and mommy will be right here when you get back."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Rick took the kleenex Charmaine offered and wiped his daughters' tears away. "Why don't we wash up a little before you join nana?

Rick kissed the top of Teia's head and stood. After a short trip to the powder room, he carried Teia in his arms to the front door, where Sasha waited. Rick set Teia down and crouched down to her level to speak with his daughter. "Now, be good for your nana. Promise?"

Teia hugged her father and kissed his cheek. "I promise, Daddy."

"See you soon, sweetheart."

"Bye, Daddy!" Teia called to her father. She then reached for her grandmother's outstretched hand and waved goodbye to her father.

Rick waved back and watched as the two crossed the street. He waited a few minutes more and watched as their figures disappeared further down the bend in the road; then, he closed the door behind him and returned to the kitchen to find that Charmaine had returned to the back deck.

He shook his head, knowing his wife was testing his patience. He poured himself a glass of lemonade and took a sip. He placed the glass on the countertop, walked to the back door, slid the door open, and called.

"Char, do you think this is wise?"

Charmaine took a sip of her lemonade, and then she looked in the direction of her husband's voice.

"What exactly do you want, Rick?"

"Personally, I really don't feel like airing our dirty laundry for your mother's neighbours."

"Jesus," she huffed, retrieving her glass and returning indoors. "I came down here because I didn't want to fight with you."

"There's no reason for us to be fighting, Char. It happened almost six years ago. It was one night and long before we met."

"Rick, do you seriously think I'm stupid? It may have been almost six years ago, but you choked me out just days ago after running into her. How do you think I feel knowing just seeing her again triggered something in you?"

Rick shook his head, knowing that wasn't one of his finer moments. "It's not what you think."

"Oh, then, do tell, please. So, why did it happen?"

"I don't know, Char. I got carried away. I'm sorry." The issue is not about sex, Char, and you know it. It's not like either of us were virgins when we met. We both have history, so why would this one relationship, which lasted exactly one night, affect you to this degree?"

"Oh, this is where you mansplain shit and tell me what I should or shouldn't be thinking, right?"

"Christ, Char, you're not jealous because I had sex with her but because I fathered her child, which came as news to me. So it's not like I ran out on her, nor did I hide it from you—I called as soon as I found out."

"But since you found out, it's all you think about. You didn't even defend me in front of them at dinner."

"That's not true, Char, and you can't blame me for wanting to meet my son. You started that fight, Char and had you not blindsided me, I would have had a better understanding of what to expect."

"You promised me a night out on the town, and next thing I know, we were double dating. Like what he fuck, Rick?"

"I tried to get out of it. You've gotta believe me, Char, and had I known about your little stunt at the supermarket. I would have been more insistent. But living in the same city, we're bound to run into each other, so the husband was trying to be nice and make peace. So it's over, okay? I didn't come here to lay blame."

"Then, why did you come?"

Rick paced back and forth across the spacious kitchen, then stopped with a slight tilt of the head. He opened his mouth to speak, but after a brief pause, he shook his head instead and paced a bit more. Then from across the room, he stopped once more and spoke. "I think you should sit down, Char."

"WHY?"

"Because you can't continue running home every time you don't get your way, Char. We need to sit down and talk thangs through. I think we should see someone. Teia's older, and you're expecting this needs to stop."

"Rick, there's nothing's going on. We simply came back to finish our vacation, you know, the one we cut short to go back to hear your news."

"You didn't tell me your plans; you just upped and left. And you took our daughter across state lines without my consent. That's kidnapping, Char."

"Are you fuckin' kidding me right now, Rick?"

"No. You wanted a fight; I didn't because you don't need the added stress, Char. I went to work hoping that time away would allow us the time to cool down, but you got angry and took off without so much as a fuckin' text or a note. This shit is how amber alert gets triggered. You know that Char, because you married a fuckin' cop."

"Oh, I get it now. I was pissed that your baby mama and child moved to town, so I kidnapped our daughter. Do you hear yourself, Rick?"

"What I hear is that you have issues with my son's mother, but you shouldn't. I'm not Bob. Teia is three-years-old, and we're expecting another child. Does any of that say I'm ready to run? I made you a promise, Char—for better or worse."

"Our vows also included forsaking all others too—but you seem to have forgotten that part the way you two were eye fuckin the whole time."

"What the fuck does that even mean?"

"The way you looked at her, there's still something there, Rick. It's like you never got her out of your system. Is that who you were fuckin that mornin'?"

"For christ's sake, Charmaine, Michonne is your sister."

Charmaine opened her mouth to speak but paused as the neurons processed the latest bomb. Once confirmed, pain and confusion transformed her beautiful face.

After witnessing Charmaine's reaction, Rick crossed the room to be close to his wife because he never intended to hurt her. He reached for her, but Charmaine flinched at his touch.

"You're lying. I have two brothers. I don't have a sister."

"I'm not, I swear to you. You wondered why Michonne's husband was staring at you as if he knew you. Apparently, he claimed the two of you had similar mannerisms. After talking to her mother, the latter admitted her ex-husband wasn't, in fact, dead but living with his girlfriend in New York. Michonne contacted me to ask about your father, and it turns out that Bob's her father too."

Charmaine's bullshit meter was dialled up, but she wrapped her arms tighter around her body as Rick spoke. She didn't know which was worst, that her father had yet another secret, which her husband had just exposed. And if true, her husband had fucked not one but both sisters and fathered children with them. She felt ill.

"You're still in touch with her?" She asked incredulously.

"Babe, it's not like that. She's the mother of my son. Our lives are inextricably linked, but you're my wife."

Charmaine shook her head, unable to believe the world she so carefully crafted around her was crumbling down. It felt as though she was living in some alternate universe.

"That day, at the picnic, you had your choice of all my friends. So, why did you choose me, Rick?"

It was Rick's turn to be on the hot seat once again. He felt uneasy because, since Michonne's earlier interrogation, he revisited his earlier memory of their first encounter, but he still couldn't lock it down. He felt drawn to Charmaine much like he was to Michonne. There was just something about the two women, but he never quite understood the pull. Sure they were both sexy; that was obvious enough at first glance, and they were both out of his league. One was wholly independent and a rebel for lack of a better definition, the other a damsel who needed protecting.

After Michonne's interrogation, he began excavating the surface only to realize he gravitated toward Charmaine much as he did towards Michonne. Though his encounter with each woman was as remarkable as they were unique, the force between them was the same. They were both beautiful and affectionate, honest and empathetic, they made him laugh, and their sexual chemistry was off the chart. Moreover, his more recent assessment of the women found them to be great moms. That said, however, he knew he was fucked because one had less drama, and despite how much he tried to ignore the undertow, the lines sometimes blurred. Nevertheless, he now recognized the danger ahead, but he remained confident they could avoid it as long as both parties made conscious efforts to avoid the pitfalls.

"What was it about me that triggered her memory because we sure as fuck don't look anything alike."

"Charmaine, please. It's not at all like that."

Angry at the revelation and the fact that her husband seemed unable to defend his position, Charmaine threw her arms in the air. "You need to leave."

"Charmaine, I'm not leaving here without my family?"

"You already have a family; leave us alone," she replied, storming out of the kitchen and grabbing her car keys on the way out the front door.

Rick shook his head at her departing figure and swore. "FUCK!"

He ran after his wife, but in the short time he had known her and the even shorter time he knew that Charmaine and Michonne were sisters, he recognized one streak in them; they were both stubborn as hell because once they've put their minds to something, they'd move mountains to get to the other side no matter the cost.

...

The Carter's residence... King County

Later that night...

Toni returned to the living room. "Here you go, sweetheart," she added, passing a drink to Michonne. "Drink up. I swear, if sleeping next to that man could have you calling out his name when you're with your husband, you two are in more trouble than you realize. I'm sure his life is no walk in the park either."

Michonne sat on the sofa next to her mother and puckered up her face after sipping the libation.

"Yes, it's strong, but you need it. You'll need something to help you sleep tonight," Toni answered her daughter's unstated assessment.

"He's not taking my calls, Mom."

"Darlin', you bruised Malyk's ego because you were in contact with the one man who threatens his marriage. The man who fathered your child, his son, the one thing even all his money couldn't buy. The same man whose name you called out while you two were being intimate. There are trust issues there, and Malyk needs to figure things out. Give him his space. If the situation were reversed, you would feel the same way."

"But, what if it's his hard-line, Mom?"

"Then you deal with it and move on," Toni replied in a definitive manner, then took a sip of her drink.

"I love him, Mom."

"I know you do you, sweetheart, and he loves you too. You've been together half your lives. That's a lot of history, Michonne. Give him time."

Michonne leaned her head onto her mother's shoulder, and Toni gently patted her daughter's head to reassure her, much like she did a younger version of her whenever she needed to know that the ship would right itself in time.

"Whatever the choice may be, I only want you to be happy, Michonne. So don't settle unless it's on your terms. Now finish your drink because I have an early morning tomorrow."

Michonne remained confused because her mother's advice was not always apparent at the time of delivery; it usually took time to digest. So, as instructed, she fell quiet and sipped her drink.

...

The Kennedys' residence in Macon

A week later...

At eight o'clock that morning, an excited RJ rushed into his parent's bedroom with Michonne's phone in hand and jumped onto the bed where his mother slept.

"Mommy—Mommy! "

An exhausted Michonne stirred in the twisted sheets and groaned.

"Baby?"

"Mommy!"

Michonne slowly opened her eyes. "What is it, baby?"

RJ's words spilled from his lips in excitement. "Daddy's coming home, Mommy."

"Did daddy call?"

RJ's head nodded vigorously. "I called daddy. Are we going home?"

"Later. But right now, mommy will grab a quick shower then get us something to eat, okay?"

"Mm-hmm," he replied and returned to the game he was playing on his mother's phone.

Michonne smiled at her son. She tussled his curls, pushed the sheets away and got out of bed.

...

Atlanta…

Hours later, they were twenty minutes from home when Michonne turned off the I-75 north and proceeded through the intersection on a green light, but before the car could clear the intersection, a red sedan, which appeared out of nowhere, blew through the red light and struck Michonne's SUV.

RJ screamed as the car spun three hundred and sixty degrees facing oncoming traffic.

"Honey, everything will be okay. Close your eyes, baby," Michonne cried out, reassuring her son with confidence she didn't quite possess. Because the harder she tried manipulating the steering wheel, her stitches gave way, opening up her old wound and causing the bandage to become saturated with blood. As a result, her grasp on the steering wheel became tenuous at best.

Despite the pain, Michonne tried desperately to maintain control of the vehicle and managed to turn the car forty-five degrees and floored the gas. Finally, she tasted the metallic taste of blood when the car's front end smashed into the convenience store across the street. The airbags deployed, and she lost consciousness.

...

When she came to, Michonne felt a heaviness over her hand. Then as her eyes focused and adjusted to her surroundings, she recognized Malyk.

"Hey!" He greeted.

Michonne's heart dropped because Malk was alone. "Malyk—RJ?" The question came out groggy and hung between them, and her heart skipped a beat, waiting for his answer because she knew it was the one loss her heart couldn't survive.

Malyk squeezed her hand reassuringly, "RJ's fine. He's got a broken arm, but other than that, the doctor predicts he'll make a full recovery. You, on the other hand, I summoned the nurse the minute you started to come to."

Michonne exhaled and inhaled as though breathing for the first time. But before she could respond, she found herself surrounded by the medical staff who busied themselves checking her vitals and asking questions.

Malyk was forced to leave the room, leaving her at the hands of people who couldn't seem to understand her only cure was proof that her son was alive. It's not that she doubted Malyk, but the last thing she recalled was RJ's distress before everything went black.

"Please, I need to see my son."

"Mrs. Kennedy, your son, is out of danger. He was discharged an hour ago. The sooner we finish up here, the sooner you'll be able to see him."

Michonne conceded, and they continued their examination, poking and prodding her. Overwhelmed by the attention, warm tears silently leaked from her eyes, slid down her face and settled in the crook of her neck.

...

The results revealed she sustained multiple bruised ribs, a broken left wrist, and her hand had been recently resutured, a busted lip and a mild concussion with facial abrasions.

Michonne was exhausted and simply wanted to go home to her family, so Dr. Ross released her into her husband's care with instructions to follow up with her family practitioner. Should her symptoms worsen, she was to return to urgent care.

...

Five days later...

"Hello?"

"Hi. Is this RJ?"

"How do you know my name?"

"I'm a friend of your mommy. Your daddy and mommy told me lots about you."

"Then why aren't you in mommy's phone?"

"I don't know. Is your mommy at home? We can ask her together?"

"Mm-hmm."

"It's okay, son. I just want to talk to your mommy for a minute. Could you please take the phone to her?"

"Okay."

RJ got off his bed and walked down the hall into his parent's room. He crossed the spacious bedroom and knocked on the bathroom door.

"Mommy, there's a man on the phone for you," RJ called through the closed door.

"Open the door, sweetheart," Michonne instructed from the standing soaking tub where she soaked her aching muscles in a bath infused with essential oils and luxurious bubbles drawn by Malyk before he left for work ten minutes ago. It was a non-negotiable condition to their makeup sex that morning.

RJ giggled at the sight of his mother. "Mommy, you look so pretty, all covered with bubbles."

"Thanks, baby. Who's on the phone?"

"I don't know. He said he's your friend, but he doesn't have a picture, Mommy."

Michonne swallowed hard and straightened up. Days ago, Malyk informed her that he tried reaching Rick when he got the call about the accident while en route back from Savannah. At the time, he was told Rick had been out of town, so he left a message with the Sheriff's Department requesting the sheriff to contact him.

Michonne dried her hand on the dove grey bath towel and took the phone from her son. "Thanks, sweetheart."

"Mommy, can I have a bath like yours later?"

"Of course, honey, but only in mommy's bathroom because you'll mess up yours. Run along and tell Nora."

"Okay." RJ grinned, closing the door behind him and leaving his mother alone in the zen-like space.

"Are you out of your mind calling me like this?"

"I just spoke with your husband, so I knew it was safe to call you."

"You can't do this again, Rick. I'm serious. What if RJ decides to tell his father I have a man calling here and one who doesn't have a picture on my phone."

"So, that's what he meant when he asked why I wasn't in your phone. He's astute. He'll make a good detective or sheriff one day."

"His career choice won't be influenced by neither you nor Malyk. He'll be his own person."

"Michonne, I'm all tapped out. I have no more energy left to fight you. I just called to see how the two of you were doing."

"I'm doing well. My headaches have stopped, and RJ's is doing well too. He's back to sleeping in his own bed. By the way, I think it would be wise if we only speak about our son going forward. I can't be involved with the details of your marriage. We hired a lawyer. Ms. Gurira will be in touch to get your lawyer's info so we can iron out a custody agreement."

"I understand. But when will I meet my son?"

"Malyk will set up a mutually convenient time for all parties. Plus, he thinks it's best we meet someplace neutral."

"Understood. Michonne, I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it. There's really no need for all this, but I get it."

"It's better for all involved, Rick, because of the four of us, Malyk is the least implicated but most affected in this mess. He's fair, and he's the most level-headed despite his imposing stature."

"Fair enough. I look forward to his call then. If you need anythang, just ask."

"Boundaries, Rick," Michonne replied and end the call.

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