Chapter 17
The elevator doors opened and Michonne's gaze fell upon Rick whose eyes widen and mouth dropped. Slight panic seeped within Michonne and she took one step backward, turning slightly away from Rick to shield Andre from whatever or whoever.
"Aye, cowboy. You had so much to say on the phone."
Now, it was Michonne's jaw-dropping at the sound of Mike's voice, her head turning swiftly to Rick. Rick's eyes communicating with her to not step out and while Michonne was grateful for Rick's protection, she couldn't let Mike and Rick fight in the middle of the hallway.
The elevator doors stopped from closing when Michonne stepped forward. Rick slowly shook his head; his silent plea being ignored.
As soon as Michonne left the elevator, Mike came into view and their eyes met.
"Mike…," she spoke softly.
Michonne saw rage flare up in his eyes before she could speak any further, Mike's pace quickened towards them while Rick moved in front of her. Mike halted, he was only a few steps away from them. Michonne didn't think Mike was aiming to hurt her especially with Andre in her arms.
"Rick, it's okay." She stepped around Rick who gently grabbed her shoulder. She nodded reassuringly at him and turned towards a very hurt Mike.
"Michonne, you gonna tell me the truth?" Mike asked. His lips quivered, his voice wavered, he quickly pointed at Rick and then dropped his hand to his side. The anger hadn't dissipated though, his hands curled into a fist and occasional hard glances were shot towards Rick. "You have my son around this man."
"Andre has been with me," said Michonne.
"That isn't the point!" He said sharply. Mike turned his back giving Rick and Michonne time to steal worrying quick glances towards each other. Michonne shifted Andre again in her arms, his weight becoming bothersome.
"Mike, Christie should be inside her home. Let me lay Andre down and then we can talk?"
He turned to face her again, but his eyes were locked on Rick. If Michonne had her way, it would have been months before Rick and Mike would have officially met. She felt like she was on a rollercoaster that only went in one direction; down.
"Alone."
"I'm not leaving you alone with her," Rick said. Once again, stepping in front of Michonne.
"I have never laid a hand toward Michonne and never will. But, you're not her," Mike stepped forward. The two men ever so slowly inching closer to each other.
"Okay, enough!" Michonne whispered harshly. Andre stirred in her arms and the last thing she wanted was for her child to witness adults acting up. "We're all adults here, so let's act like it." She walked toward Mike and looked behind her toward Rick. "Just wait downstairs." Rick shook his head defiantly, not budging from his spot. "Please," she added.
Rick slowly nodded, "Yeah. Okay," a heavy sigh passed his lips and after one last look at Michonne, a look communicating to her that he wasn't going far, Rick pressed the elevator door button. The doors opened immediately and he watched Michonne walk behind Mike to Christie's door before he himself walked into the elevator.
Mike knocked on Christie's door, leaning against the door's frame, he stared at Michonne. Michonne adjusted Andre in her arms again, the commotion between the adults hadn't stirred her son from his nap. She could feel Mike's eyes boring holes into her, she looked at him and felt the shame. How did everything turn upside down?
The door opened, Christie still clad in her pajamas, her sleep mask on top of her bonnet, rubbed the sleep from her eyes, stretched and yawn. Half-way into her yawn, she opened her eyes and saw Mike and Michonne before her.
"MIII…ike!" Her voice rising and falling to a whisper. Christie planted an overly friendly smile on her face, "And Michonne! OMG, what a pleasant surprise."
Michonne shook her head quickly trying in vain to communicate with Christie that the jig was up before it even started.
"I already know he's staying here," Mike said gruffly, stepping past a shocked Christie who mouthed What the hell to Michonne.
It's okay, Michonne mouthed back, closing the door behind her.
"Here, I'll lay him down in his crib." Christie reached for Andre as Michonne lifted him to her. Both she and Mike watched Christie entered the guest room and then shortly came out. "I'm going to hop in the shower and head to the firm, so pretend I'm not here."
"Thanks, Christie," Michonne said.
Mike didn't speak, he sat down on the couch his back facing Michonne. Christie out of Mike's view as well, wildly gestured for Michonne to come over to her. Waving her arms in the air like a crazy woman.
Michonne rolled her eyes and followed Christie to Christie's bedroom.
"Where's Rick?" Christie asked in a hushed tone once Michonne closed the bedroom door behind them.
"Downstairs?"
Christie nodded and then gasped, clamping her hands over her mouth and then dropping them, "Did they…"
"Yes," Michonne nodded and sighed. "And I don't know how Mike just knew Rick and I are involved."
Christie pulled Michonne into a hug, "If Mike tries to make you eat the cake, I got my baseball bat by my bed and I saw that big ass sword in the other room."
Michonne looked dumbfounded at Christie, having no clue as to what her friend was rambling about. Christie recognized Michonne's confused expression.
"You know 'Eat the cake, Anna Mae.' From that Tina Turner movie."
Michonne stepped back and rolled her eyes, "Mike isn't a woman beater," she said defensively.
"I'm just saying. I have a bat and I was an All-Star hitter on my softball team three years in a row. I know how to knock an s-o-b the fuck out."
"Get in the shower," Michonne said sharply, not entertained in the slightest.
"Okay, but seriously I got your back," the other woman said as she went into the bathroom.
Before the elevator could make its descent down to the lobby floor, Rick pressed the open button and quickly stepped out. In the back of his mind, not respecting Michonne's wishes could lead to a disagreement between them, but he wanted to be close. He stopped just outside Christie's door when his phone buzzed.
Home.
Not wanting to be busted, Rick moved away from the door before answering the call.
"What else did you need buddy?" He asked.
"This isn't Carl," Lori spoke on the on the other end.
Rick shook his head and internally groaned, receiving a call from Lori wasn't surprising, but the timing was unsettling. He took one quick glance back towards Christie's door and then walked further down the hall and turned left.
"Are you with her?" Lori sounded like she had a stuffed nose.
"Is that why you're calling?"
"Why can't you answer the question?"
Rick rolled his eyes, sliding down the wall onto his bottom, "I don't want to fight with you," he said quietly.
"Then answer the question. Your wife has a right to know," he heard her sniff and what sounded like her drinking something.
"Why are you calling?" Rick repeated, ignoring her question again.
"Leon died," she said quietly as if some of the fire she had a few seconds ago extinguished.
Rick felt a chill run down his body that made him shiver. He thought Leon would pull through just like he did in that other life. Rick had spent a week maybe even more without any medical intervention and survived, surely Leon would be okay? So, he thought.
"He died this afternoon," Lori continued. "Sarah is not doing good, I heard from her mother that she was on the verge of being hospitalized for the baby's sake because she was so hysterical."
Rick didn't know he was crying until he felt a tear dropped onto his neck, "The doctors…they said Leon would be fine," Rick argued. "I don't understand."
He picked at his pants leg, the guilty thoughts he carried at the hospital coming back. That day of the shooting, he knew what he needed to do to protect himself yet he didn't think how saving himself could have affected someone else.
Lori sniffed again and he could tell she was crying as well. "Rick, I need you. I need my husband. I need you. I need you." She repeated over and over until her words became a chant. Rick wiped his eyes, a feeling of heaviness settled in his chest. He knew he had no words to make Lori feel better.
"Have you seen Shane?" He asked, hoping a conversation about Shane would be a successful deflection.
"He came over last night."
Rick nodded slowly, "That's nice."
Without further prompting Lori went on, "We had a long talk about the past, life in general… you."
Rick weighed the pros and cons on whether he wanted to know what about him they talked about, but Lori didn't wait.
"He told me how—." Her voice breaking in between sobs, "you flaunted your affair in front of his face. Playing daddy," she spat. "Your son is at home asking about you and you went to another city to play family with that bitch and her bastard."
Rick silently counted to ten, somewhat drowning Lori voice that steadily increased in volume.
"I'm hanging up," he said calmly.
"Don't! I'm sorry," she said, but her apology was obviously insincere.
"I'm not abandoning Carl. I'll be back in a few days—."
"No!" She screamed into the phone so loudly, Rick removed the receiver away from his ear. "You need to come home tonight, you need to be here for me, for your son. I am giving you a chance to do the right thing, Rick."
"I'm working—."
"I'M NOT STUPID RICK! Why can't you be honest?" There was a pause and then Lori sighing and blowing her nose. "I forgive you," she said softly.
Rick went back to fiddling with his pants, he didn't believe Lori even though he truly wanted her forgiveness.
"I forgive you because I know this isn't you. I get it, you know, I get it. We haven't been affectionate with each other in a long time and my eyes have wandered too."
Rick raised an eyebrow.
"Not towards Shane, if that's what you think." She chuckled and Rick could hear the pop of a can being opened. Lori drank for a few seconds and made a satisfying sigh. "Remember about four-five months ago, I went to Mrs. Westbury's tea party." Lori laughed and Rick tilted his head, puzzled as to why that would be funny. "It wasn't a tea party. I mean there was tea being served, but Mrs. Westbury sells sex toys on the side," Lori laughed again, harder this time and Rick couldn't help but chuckled himself at the thought of a 72-year old retired school teacher selling dildos.
"The image that just popped into my head," said Rick.
"I know! But, it wasn't bad, highly informative actually."
"Did you buy anything," Rick asked curiously.
"Yes."
She didn't say anything for a few seconds, Rick could only hear her drink more and then burped.
"Are you gonna make me guess what you bought."
"A vibrator. A small one, it's called a bullet."
"Oh." Rick wondered where in the house Lori had it hidden and what it looked like.
"Anyway, Mrs. Westbury's nephew came by when the party ended and he helped her clean up which," Lori chuckled, "had me all different kinds of confused."
"A nephew?"
"Eddie is his name. Twenty-one years old and he attends Georgia Tech. So young…," she trailed off as if lost in her memories of this Eddie.
"Your eyes wandered to him?" Rick could now tell where Lori story was going.
"Yes, well he eyed me first. He flirted every time he saw me and I always had to remind him that I was a married woman. Although to tell you the truth, I was reminding myself. Reminding myself that no matter what, I made a commitment to you Rick."
Rick swallowed despite his dry mouth.
"One night, I told you I was going out with the girls, but I went with Eddie to Atlanta. He took me dancing and we had dinner."
"A date," Rick said, his jaw clenching.
"A date," Lori agreed. "It was fun. For the first time in years, I felt carefree. That whole night he treated me like I was the most important person in the world and I loved it. He took care of me and I knew… what he wanted at the end of the night. I knew why I went with him all the way to Atlanta. I wanted to sleep with him, Rick. I wanted him to touch me in places that you haven't in months. I wanted him to satisfy me in a way that that dumb bullet couldn't."
"And you did?"
"I didn't," she sneered. "Because I made a commitment to you, I said a vow in front of our family and friends that I would love and honor you. So, I told that boy that I had to go home. I didn't even let him drive me, I paid two hundred dollars—we did not have—for a taxi to get home that night. Because at the end of the day, I didn't want that man, I wanted you, Rick."
"Lori…," Rick didn't want to say Michonne's name, but Michonne was different. "I'm sorry that I can't give you what you want," he said.
Rick heard Lori scooting the chair across the floor. "Why? Because you want her? You don't even know what you want. That's the thing that makes me laugh, you think you have it figured out. You think it'll be easy. We divorce and move on."
"Why do you want to stay with me, answer that?" Rick spat. "You have acted for months that you couldn't stand me, you picked arguments, you saw fault with every. Single. Thing. I said." Rick swallowed, "And now you admitted that you were cheating as well."
"I was not!"
"Ohhh, just going on a date, in another city with a boy that wasn't your husband. Definitely not cheating. But get this Lori, I'm not upset with you. We're not good for each other anymore and it's not Michonne's fault or Eddie's, people grow apart, marriages fall apart and you need to stop lying to yourself about that not being our reality."
"You want to lecture to me about reality?" She asked indignantly. "You thought I was dead two weeks ago, you have been attacking people left and right, you have not been living in reality." Rick heard another can being opened and Lori gulping loudly until she had her fill. "Reality is Rick, I'm starting to wish that it was you who had died and not Leon," she sighed and then the call ended.
Rick frowned at Lori's last words, he closed his eyes. When will it end? He opened his eyes and scrolled to Shane's name on his phone. Lori was not herself and Rick severely underestimated how well Lori would handle them splitting up.
Instead of calling Shane, Rick sent a quick text, asking him to check on Lori and Carl. His scalp prickled and his stomach quivered. So much has changed in such a short span of time and Rick couldn't figure out a solution that would keep the escalating situation with Lori at bay, a solution that didn't involve his best friend. It should have been you. Did she really mean that?
Rick received a text back from Shane.
U need to get back here and fix ur own shit.
His phone buzzed; another text.
Imma check on Lori b/c I care abt her. Not for u.
A soft laugh escaped Rick's mouth, he tilted his head as if it'd change what he just read. "You do that Shane," he said as he rolled his eyes.
"Andre loves the new toys you got him." Michonne walked cautiously toward Mike, debating whether to stand or sit. She decided to sit on the other end of the couch. Mike stayed quiet, his hands in his lap staring ahead at Christie's turned off TV screen. Michonne gazed upon his stone expression with curiosity. What will he do now?
Mike had irrefutable proof that Michonne had someone else and last time, he was so passive and even kind to her, but that was then when he was just suspicious. When a man cheats he expects you to forgive him when you cheat he'll make sure you feel his wrath. Michonne had often heard various forms of this expression throughout her life. And here she sat beside Mike waiting for his wrath.
"I'm taking Andre with me when we're done." He spoke, his voice calm with a tone of finality.
Michonne's heart leaped, "What! You can't take him!"
Mike finally looked at her, surprise etched on his face, "You had him for the past two days Michonne. You had him around that motherfucker," Mike said pointing at the front door. "Without me knowing and you want to protest now!"
"Andre is fine with me—."
"He's my son!" Mike yelled. He stood up and stepped away from Michonne.
Michonne wanted to protest further, instead, she pressed her lips together in a slight grimace. "He's my son, Michonne," Mike said again so quietly Michonne barely made out the words. He leaned against the kitchen island and crossed his arms. Michonne stood up and faced him.
"I'm sorry… about everything," she took a deep, painful breath and closed her eyes to prevent her tears from falling. When she opened them, she met with Mike's hard glare who shook his head slowly in disbelief.
"I don't believe you," he said uncrossing his arms. "You have been weird for almost two weeks." Mike stepped forward, gently grabbing her shoulders, his brows furrowed. "That man is blackmailing you, ain't he?"
Michonne shuffled back a step from surprise, but Mike still held her. "It's this case you're working on right? That man has something to do with it," Mike continued, but Michonne shook her head.
"No Mike," she wiggled from his grasp, avoiding his gaze, avoiding the look of hurt in his eyes.
Mike licked his lips and then broke into a light chuckle, "I remember when you found out about that one chick—shit—don't even remember her name.
"Tanya," Michonne replied.
This time Mike laughed, "Yeah her. You still know her name because that shit hurt you. I hurt you. I just didn't realize how much until now after many years and a damn child later… payback?"
Michonne stiffened, "This isn't payback. I forgave you for cheating on me. I moved on, we moved on. My relationship with Rick doesn't have anything to do with you."
Mike stared blankly at her, but his body tensed up. "Doesn't have anything to do with me?" He said slowly as if he was digesting each word she said to him.
"What I mean—."
"Michonne, I want you to be my wife. I want to give Andre a sister or brother… with you. I want a marriage like my parents and your parents. But, now when I thought we had hit our stride as a couple, I find out that you want to leave me for a fucking redneck." Mike pointed at her, "Then you say to my face that this shit has nothing to do with me!" Michonne saw Mike's temper increased with each sentence and she actually felt relieved. His prior calmness and softness under this circumstance unnerved her. She wanted him to be angry because why not?
"I'm sorry that I'm hurting you. I don't want to hurt you, but—," Michonne stopped, knowing she was heading toward territory that she didn't understand herself.
"But what?"
Michonne threw up her hands, "I don't know what to say, Mike. When I look at you I feel like shit, I feel guilty because I don't really know how to fix this."
He hugged her suddenly, holding her hard against him, "Do you love me?" He asked in her ear.
"I…I," Michonne stuttered and before she could get her tongue to form actual words, Mike grasped her chin and then his lips met hers. Mike gave her a soft kiss. His gentleness took Michonne back to the first one they shared. The nervousness despite both trying to play it cool and feeling excited about the possibilities of their future. Mike's kiss also took her back to the last good moment between them before she left on that run.
He had kissed her passionately and smiled at her with adoration in his eyes. Looking at her in such a way that he hadn't done since hell broke loose. The day before, Michonne made a decision to leave with Andre, but it was as if Mike read her mind and knew just what to do to make her stay. So, when she did leave on that run. When Michonne left Andre with Mike, he changed her mind. She wouldn't leave Mike behind.
This time she wouldn't be changing her mind. Breaking the kiss, Michonne touched her lips and gazed wearily at him. "Mike, I need you to know the truth," Michonne held his hands and led him back to the couch. They both sat, Mike concerned and Michonne trying to maintain her composure. "Two weeks ago, I was in an entirely different place. I was fighting someone or some people and then something happened." She sighed, "I don't know, but I woke up in a courtroom and it was like the past two years didn't happen.
"Two years? What didn't happen?"
Michonne held up her hand to stop Mike's questions, her eyebrows furrowed in deep thought, she didn't know where to start or how to explain. Taking a deep breath and letting the air out, she looked at Mike again. "You died. Andre died."
"Michonne—."
"And no, it's not post-partum," Michonne continued. "Mike, years ago or maybe this will happen in the future. I don't know, but the dead will come back… came back and everything changed. We changed, you…" Michonne stopped, this time she choked on her words as she couldn't stop her tears anymore. "You were supposed to protect our son, you promised me, you made me believe everything would be alright. But it wasn't… you… you." Michonne closed her eyes tightly trying desperately to compose herself, but the image of Andre, wrapped in his blanket, not moving or breathing made her want to puke. "I let you turn into one of them. The undead because I hated you so much and that feeling hasn't left," she opened her eyes again.
Mike gazed at Michonne incredulously, his mouth opened and she knew he didn't know what to say to her confession. "I know I sound crazy, but I need to tell you the truth. My truth. I met Rick sometime later, I didn't trust him, he didn't trust me, but his son became my friend."
"Michonne—."
"And through him, Rick and I became friends and we have been through it all. I don't remember all of it, but I remember enough. We've fought together, starved, led a community together, we survived and us becoming more than just friends made all the sense in the world. You were gone, his wife was gone. All he had was his children and all I had… was my sword." Michonne chuckled, grasping tissue from a box on Christie's coffee table, wiping the snot from her nose, she avoided Mike's face and focused on his chest. "We fell in love, we were in love in that other world and when I woke up here, I didn't forget it. I didn't forget Rick, so I found him and he remembered me and we..." Michonne paused trying to stop her tears, "we still love each other, I don't know how or why, but we still love each other so much that it trumps all reasoning."
Mike's jaw slack, he stood away from her again. Shaking his head, he looked down to the carpeting as if he saw a tiny insect, then his eyes lifted to Michonne and just as quickly back to the carpeting. His gaze bounced back and forth while silence saturated the room.
"Say something Mike," Michonne said, the agonizing silence was too much to bear. Mike stared at her hard, unflinching, tears looming on the brim of his eyes. He turned from her and headed toward the bedroom where Andre slept. Michonne followed until Mike stopped abruptly.
"I need a minute," he said. His voice low and flat.
"Okay."
Mike went into the bedroom and closed the door behind him while Michonne stayed in her spot. Biting her bottom lip, her left hand grabbed her necklace, she played with the 'M' and slid it back and forth on the chain.
I told him the truth. I told him the truth the best way I could. No, you should have lied Michonne. Should have told him you been secretly seeing with Rick for months, should have lied. The lie is more believable than the truth. Now you just look crazy.
That last thought felt like a punch to Michonne's gut, she slumped to her knees, holding onto the coffee table for support.
"Michonne?" Christie called out to her. Feeling drained of energy, Michonne couldn't move her head, she sat there thinking over and over that she should have just lied.
"I'm fine," Michonne said wearily.
"Right and I'm Rihanna," Christie quipped. Michonne felt Christie pulling on her shoulder. "Get off the floor," she said, trying to lift Michonne.
Michonne cooperated, letting Christie help her to the couch. She put her head in her hands, "he doesn't deserve this," she muffled.
"He'll get over it. You two aren't married, so you don't have to deal with divorce. I doubt all of your assets are tied in with Mike's. Andre is two, so he won't remember any of this."
"I hurt him, Christie."
"He'll get over that too," Christie sighed. "Michonne, you're crying your eyes out like you murdered him," Michonne quickly sat up, eyeing Christie who shrugged. "You didn't give him an STD, you're not pregnant, you broke off the engagement before you all even made an announcement. I know the circumstances are shitty, but seriously I need you to stop fucking crying."
Michonne rolled her eyes, "Look at me Michonne," Christie ordered. "You are smart, you're beautiful, you're a damn good mom and an okay boss," Christie grinned. "Your mistakes don't define you, wanna know how I know?"
"How?"
Christie pointed to Michonne, "because you told me that. And you were right, I've done way worse than breaking someone's heart and here I sit. I keep moving forward. I still make mistakes. I'm still a bitch, but hey I learn from those mistakes and I do yoga to curb my bitchiness.
"Not enough of it," Michonne whispered.
"Hey!"
Michonne laughed.
"You have a son to take care of and he needs his mom," Christie continued. "These men in your life don't trump Andre, focus on him and when it comes to Mike and the cowboy, let the chips fall as they may." Christie rubbed Michonne's shoulder and Michonne smiled.
The door to the spare bedroom opened and Michonne quickly stood up, stumbling over her feet a bit. Mike stood in the doorway with Andre cradled on his shoulder, still asleep and Andre's diaper bag in his other hand.
"I'll come back to the condo tomorrow and check on you guys," Michonne voice cracked, she wiped her eyes and tried to smile.
"I'll be at my mom's house," Mike said. The look on his face said that decision was final, but Michonne reached out to him.
"Wait, she lives in Maryland, Mike, you can't just take him like that!"
"Like you just took him without asking me first. At least Andre will be around family and not some fucking white boy."
Michonne swallowed, but stared sternly back at Mike, "I am asking you to not do this now. If you don't want to see me, fine, but I'm not about to go a single day without seeing Andre."
Mike laughed as if Michonne told him a joke, "I can't with you right now Mich. I love you too much to say what's really on my mind." He frowned, "You wanna see Andre, you know my mom's address. I'm not taking Andre away from you, but right now, you need to get your mind cleared cause something is wrong Michonne and hopefully you and your new man can figure it out," he said brushing past her.
"Wait!" Michonne grabbed the bag, stopping Mike. She walked to him and reached toward Andre. She observed his eyes moving underneath his eyelids and his small mouth opened as drool pooled around Mike's coat. Michonne kissed Andre on the cheek, breathing in his sweet scent. She moved back and eyed Mike, "I will call you in the morning, and in the afternoon, and tomorrow night to speak with Andre and you better answer."
Mike scoffed, but Michonne ignored his indifference. "You don't answer, I will be on your mother's doorstep. You can hate me, but you're not going to use Andre for revenge."
"Who do you take me for Michonne?"
"Are we clear?"
Mike stared at her, Michonne could see the love he has for her slowly draining from his eyes. "Yeah." He turned and headed for the front door.
Rick heard a door close loudly from his position. He carefully peeked around the corner and was happy to see Mike walking down the hallway, but that happiness fled when he noticed Andre being carried in his father's arms.
Rick frowned knowing that Michonne could be hurt, Andre meant the world to her and after all that, they've been through if Mike took him away.
Mike's head lifted up, prompting Rick to move back against the wall. As much as he wanted to confront Mike, now wasn't the time. And you would only make it worse. He thought back to the terse words the two men shared over the phone. Rick in his anger and frustration did not make Michonne's situation with Mike any better.
"Yo," Mike's voice ranged out which startled Rick. He saw me. Rick's sad attempt at trying to avoid a confrontation was fruitless, he straightened his shoulders and stretched his neck, getting prepared for another round. "Terry, where you at?"
Rick stopped himself from moving any further and waited.
"Man," Mike tsked. "She's on some bullshit. Like I don't even recognize this woman. Talking about I died, Andre died, just bullshit. Be real with me and say you fucked another nigga because you wanted to instead of giving me a crazy ass story."
Rick flinched wanting to tune Mike out for his temper's sake.
"I have Andre. Imma head home and put him to bed. Nah I'm good, swing by tomorrow though. Rick heard the elevator doors open and Mike's heavy steps. He waited with baited breath until the doors closed and then he peeked around the corner, hoping Mike wasn't waiting for him.
Rick let out a heavy sigh, the hallway leading to Christie's condo was empty. He ambled past the elevator and saw the numbers descend down. Reaching Christie's door, he knocked twice and the door promptly swung open. Christie stood before him wearing a printed button down top and a bright teal flowy skirt that showed off her legs. Rick gave her a small smile hoping she would stop frowning at him.
"Hey," he waved.
"Hey, nothing, when are you leaving?"
"Umm," Rick didn't have an answer and Christie didn't stick around for an answer. She was in her kitchen, looking through her cabinets. His eyes turned to Michonne who sat on the couch. "Baby, you okay?" He asked, sitting beside her.
Michonne nodded slowly and smiled weakly, "I'm fine."
"You told him the truth?"
"I told him the truth."
"Should have lied," Christie interjected. She was behind them putting on heels that nearly matched her skin tone with a bowl in her hand.
Michonne rolled her eyes and groaned.
"No, Mike needed to hear the truth as crazy as it sounds," Rick said defensively. "No matter what you told him 'Chonne he wasn't going to like what you had to say. Telling him the truth was good for you."
Michonne glanced in his direction but stayed silent and then her eyes fell on the toy that was in her hand.
Rick grabbed her hand and gently squeezed it, "Andre will be fine. I promise you," he said emphatically.
Rick's phone buzzed in his pocket, he sighed and pulled it out. "Morgan," he said reading the caller id. Michonne looked at him apprehensively, but then back to the toy in her hand. Christie sat in a sofa chair, eating cereal. "Hello," Rick said greeting his new partner on the other line.
"I have bad news and some good."
"The bad news."
"Officer Basset passed away. I just got the news not too long ago." Michonne squeezed Rick's thigh and leaned closer to him. Rick smiled reassuring at her, he hadn't told her about Leon, but he welcomed her comfort.
"I know. I thought he would pull through, I hoped he would."
"The Sheriff said the same thing."
"I'll be back in King County before the funeral."
"About that," Morgan sighed on the other end. "Please tell me you found something I can share with the Sheriff tomorrow. Mrs. Grimes came by and… air out her grievances with me and him."
"She did what!" Rick growled.
Michonne slowly shook her head, she sat back on the couch, her hand now resting on Rick's back. "She didn't cause a scene to be honest, but Lori insisted that you were in Atlanta on personal business. I did my best to assure her and Sheriff that wasn't the case. And I don't think Sheriff Watson took Lori seriously, but it'd still look good if you can give me an update."
Rick groaned loudly, dragging his hands through his hair, he felt restless, so he stood up and found himself pacing. "I met the guy, Negan. I didn't get anything out of him, but," Rick said, shaking his hand at the phone as if Morgan was right in front of him. "I know he did it, Morgan."
Rick looked at Michonne's sullen face, it seemed like just more problems and questions were piling up on their shoulders than solutions and answers. "Morgan, I do have some names I want you to check out though." Rick gave Morgan, Frank and Kevin's name and the address to the Negan's bar.
"I'll look up any criminal history on these guys and pull up some records on that bar, but does any of this relate to Ed Peletier?"
"No," Rick sighed loudly. "Look, there's nothing groundbreaking that I gave you, but I know Sheriff Watson won't have a problem with me being here a few more days. I'll call him directly tomorrow, don't worry about it."
"I'm not, but I am concerned about you working alone."
"I'm not alone," Rick said looking at Michonne.
"Shane's not there,"
"I have sources here. Imma check out the address Carol Peletier gave me, she said it was Negan's and it's not the bar."
"Morgan," Michonne spoke and moved closer to the phone. "It's Michonne Cassel. I have a weird question to ask you if you don't mind."
"No, I don't. I actually owe you an apology, the copies you gave me of your case went unignored, but I'm going through them now. I'm actually searching to see if maybe there are other victims who died in the same manner of Ed and the Dwight fellow."
Michonne clamped her hands together and smiled at Christie and Rick, "Thank you! And apology accepted, if you find anything please email me."
"Will do. What's your question?"
"Umm, have you ever felt…," Michonne chuckled awkwardly, "Like you woke up one day and you just remembered things that shouldn't have happened yet those memories felt real?"
Morgan was silent on the other end. Michonne met Rick's eyes, she bit her lip wondering why she even bothered.
"No… I can't say I have. You mean like déjà vu?"
"Sort of just more vivid and it doesn't go away… you know never mind," Michonne laughed lightly. "I haven't been sleeping well and had a bad dream. Just be careful."
"Always. And Rick, call with an update tomorrow, please. I prefer if you can come back before this Monday."
"Sure. Goodbye Morgan."
"Good night you two."
Rick ended the call and looked at the two women. Christie stood up and went to the kitchen while Michonne clutched Andre's toy. Rick sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. He pushed her closer to him and kissed her softly on her temple.
"I love you," he whispered.
"I love you too."
"Today was hard, but tomorrow will be better."
"You're optimistic?" Michonne asked, gazing up at him.
"Yeah, why not?"
"Because there doesn't seem to be an end to it all. You have no evidence on Negan, doesn't seem like Morgan has anything to go off on. I'm no closer to getting Merle free…"
"'Chonne?" Rick interrupted. "Stop it. We've been through worse. We'll win."
She looked at him with uncertainty in her eyes, but she smiled warmly.
"Well, what's the game plan?" Christie asked while pinning her hair back from her face.
Michonne shook her head, "I guess we can start finding Maggie Greene."
"And who's that?"
"Spencer brought by a witness statement that wasn't available to us. Maggie saw a guy that wasn't Merle leave the motel room that the murder took place."
"But there was only one witness."
Michonne nodded her head at Christie who stared at her in disbelief, "That's what I thought, but there were two. And I guess Maggie didn't tell Detective Brian what he wanted to hear, so her statement went missing."
"Whoa..."
"You're going to need proof of that Michonne," Rick added.
"I know, so finding Maggie is a start. What about you?"
Rick pulled out his notebook and a piece of paper he had tucked among the pages, "Does this address look familiar?" He asked holding it out for Michonne to read.
Her brows furrowed in concentration, "I'm pretty sure that's in the suburbs."
Rick frowned, "The Suburbs. Thought it would be another business."
"No, it's probably a home address. Where did you get it from?"
"Carol Peletier. She knows Negan, said he was an upstanding guy. That's a lie."
"You can't go there by yourself," Michonne raised an eyebrow at Rick. And Rick shrugged her off.
"'Chonne."
"No, you went by yourself to that bar and you got nothing but a couple of names and a headache. You need me."
"I need you," Rick repeated. A sly grin crossed Michonne's face. "What about Maggie?"
"I can go with Spencer and find Maggie," Christie said, Rick frowned at her. "I mean I don't want to, but I've been racking up so many favors from you two, what's one more 'you owe me.'" Christie shrugged and grinned at the couple.
"There is it is, Rick I'm coming with you," Michonne exclaimed.
Rick could only stare. "I've been double-teamed," he said softly.
"Wow I was going to make a dirty joke," Christy said getting up, "but it's time for me to go to class."
"I thought you were going back to the firm?" Michonne asked.
"Nope. Class, bar hopping 101. Bye!"
Christie grabbed her purse and left the condo, leaving Rick and Michonne alone for the night. Michonne lied down on the couch, resting her head on Rick's thighs. Her body and mind exhausted from today's events.
"I feel like the odds are against us," she muttered and then yawned. Mike, her job, the case she was now back to working on, Andre Anthony, Negan, and Rick. "So much is on our shoulders and we can even tell head from tales on what is real."
"We're real," Rick retorted. "And this isn't the first time, the odds were against us."
"Yeah."
"Yeah, we'll win Michonne. We will get our happy ending."