Hi all – I apologize for the delay in updating this story. I've started another fic for Black Sails which has been taking a lot of time as has been real life. I hope to wrap this story very soon. I'm still trying to decide where I would like to end things. It'll be at the very least the next two chapters at most four chapters.
In response to some of the comments to the last chapter regarding Michonne's career decision, some are under the impression that she took a job in New York. I'm not sure why this was concluded when Michonne clearly says "I'll have to be in New York every other week for at least three days…" The company she'll be working for is based in New York, but has a satellite office in Atlanta, which is where she'll be based. So she's not moving to New York.
Thank you all again who have stuck with this story and continue to read and enjoy. I know this story has not been for everyone, but I do appreciate the support from all.
Thirty-one
The weekend with Carl had not gotten better, or worse. He still as obnoxious as he'd been when he and Michonne first met and thus a challenge to deal with. The following day, that Sunday, there'd been less pressure. They'd had brunch where the topic of discussion remained mostly on him, specifically his love of baseball and soccer, before Michonne had headed back to Atlanta. In the past few weeks, they'd only had two follow up outings with Carl. One had been pretty much like the first, tense and uncomfortable, while the other had been some better. They'd gone to Sky Zone Trampoline Park in Macon where he'd met friends and had a blast. It had given them little time to interact but the time they had together had been slightly better than the previous. They'd gone to dinner, and this time Carl had been more open, willing to talk about more than just the sports he loved, but also inquired about Michonne, curiously, yet reluctantly asking her about how she'd learned to paint and when she'd moved to Atlanta from D.C. However, despite some progress, there was still a wall there. Carl continuously struggled with the reality of her and Rick. Though he seemed to be more tolerant of their hugs and even their kisses, which they always kept chaste around him, he strangely showed serious discomfort if he witnessed an amorous look or thought between them. It would take time. They both knew, but for the first time, Michonne was feeling hopeful about her relationship with Carl.
"You look amazing." Rick stated with amorous eyes as he stepped back from the hug he'd just shared with Michonne.
"You look pretty hot yourself." She confessed then kissed his lips.
"Do I?" He smiled against her mouth.
"You do." She confirmed, driving him to commence another kiss.
"You nervous?" He then asked as he slipped his arm around her back and they began their walk towards the entry of the restaurant where Morgan Jones, one of his closest friends, was throwing his wife a surprise birthday party at his brother's restaurant in Macon.
"Why would I be nervous? I'm just meeting all your friends at once." She lightly replied, even as the anxiety she felt was somewhat apparent in her tone.
"Not all, just many." Rick countered, inciting a nervous side eye from Michonne, which gave him a chuckle.
"I don't know what's funny." She chided in jest. "What if they hate me? Aren't some of them your Ex's friends?" She added with more seriousness.
"Believe me there are no Angela's in that party." He assured, making her laugh despite of her edginess about the situation. "Everybody will be cool, and it'll be fun." He said as he ceased their trek to look her in the eyes. "You ready?" He then asked.
"Yeah." She softly declared, her concern with the idea of meeting potential friends of his ex-wife gradually abating due to her trust in his word. Pleased, Rick smiled, then chastely kissed her mouth, before slipping his hand in hers and guiding them towards the door.
They walked hand in hand into the restaurant which had décor that was a cross between a nightclub and a strip joint.
"You sure we're in the right place?" Michonne quipped.
"Yeah." Rick confirmed, eyeing the place himself with some feelings of reservation. "Morgan's brother owns this joint. You'll find he's a little more, worldly than the rest of us." He explained, which incited a smile from Michonne.
The place was packed with people, drinking and conversing, waiting for the birthday girl to arrive. Rick scanned the room, looking for those he knew personally, when he spotted them across the way and led Michonne to the table at which they were gathered. Her nervousness again reared its head, when she found herself face to face with what seemed like an endless group of Rick's friends. However, there genuine pleasantness after he'd introduced her to group, which quickly eased her disquiet. They were an interesting and diverse bunch, reflective of who Rick was. She'd met Gabriel, who everyone called "priest" due to him being perpetually single; Andrea, who seemed rather high on herself as did her boyfriend, Philip, who swore he was the smartest person in the room, but emitted a lack of confidence, which she was certain he had no knowledge of.
Morgan, who she'd heard so much about, had been absent during the initial meeting, for he was tasked with the job of getting his wife to the surprise party. However, Michonne did meet his brother, sister and in-laws, all of whom were very welcoming. Darryl, who'd been one of the first people she'd met during her initial trip to Palmer, was there as well. He'd perked up upon seeing her, but mumbled through his greeting, likely due to the drinks it was apparent he'd already consumed. His date was a feisty young woman, who was kind, but didn't seem to take any shit from anyone, which left Michonne to wonder where he'd had the pleasure of meeting her. She'd later discovered that Rosita, which was the woman's name, was predictably not from Palmer and that Darryl had met her when she was stripping at The Cheetah in Atlanta. She was now out of the game. Darryl had helped with that. She'd told Michonne. And was now making a living as a medical assistant on Peachtree in Brookwood. As Rick had said, they were all a cool bunch, except for one, Carol Pelletier, whom she figured was a close friend of Lori's, which had been confirmed later that evening.
When they were introduced, the woman had barely uttered a hello before she turned her eyes to Rick and stated…
"Isn't it a little soon to be bringing your…friends to parties?" She reproached, instantly changing the mood of the introductions, making everyone uncomfortable.
"Too soon for you? Because I don't see anyone else with a problem here." Rick retorted.
"I didn't say I had a problem."
"Your comment says otherwise." Rick challenged.
"Just making an observation."
"Well you can keep your observations to yourself." Pam, Morgan's sister-in-law, had jumped in. Carol had then excused herself from the group, which was followed by Pam stating that she didn't want any mess at her sister's party and wondered who'd invited Carol anyway. However, before anyone could respond, an announcement was made that Morgan had arrived with Jenny, and that they'd be walking inside, any moment.
Glasses of champagne was quickly passed around. The low music that was playing was silenced and every one waited for the birthday girl to enter. Moments later, she came through the door to a chorus of "Surprise!" And was stunned and thrilled by what her family and friends had done. The party had immediately commenced. The music had been cranked up and the alcohol and hors d' oeuvres began to flow. There was an endless amount of finger food - hot wings, pigs in the blanket, tortilla pinwheels, baked cheese sticks, cranberry meatballs, sliders, along with an abundance of champagne and an open bar if guests desired something with a stronger kick. In the mist of all the excitement, Rick had taken a moment to apologize for what had happened with Carol, but Michonne had assured him there was no need. That she was fine. She then got the opportunity to meet Morgan and Jenny. Both of whom had been extremely kind. They spent quite a bit of time with them talking about life and careers. The Jones' enjoyed spending time with their son of course, but when they weren't getting in as much time as they could with Duane, they enjoyed their individual hobbies, Morgan – hiking and fishing, Jenny – crocheting and tennis, but the time they had together was mostly chill.
With Jenny being a flight attendant based out of Savannah, mostly for charter corporate flights, they rarely had unlimited time to spend together. However, when they did have the time, they'd do a night at home with popcorn and a movie – On Demand. Sometimes they'd drive to Macon for a concert then stay overnight to get some private time, and when the opportunity arose they loved to travel. Though Jenny only worked for corporate charter flights, she still had great connections that allotted them deals on airfare. As a result, they'd been to some wonderful places – Mexico, England, France and Oahu – the previous spring.
"I wasn't impressed." Morgan had confessed.
"With Oahu?!" Michonne had asked with surprise. "That's the first I've ever heard that." Morgan had gone on to explain his qualms with Hawaii (Oahu) – the native cuisine, the crowds, the lack of breathtaking scenery, which Jenny had countered at every turn. She argued that her husband was just being picky and stated that she'd enjoyed the trip immensely. Michonne had agreed, that Oahu could be a tourist trap, but that some of the smaller islands (Maui, Kauai) and even the big island – Hawaii provided more beauty and exclusivity if that's what he was looking for. "Next time you go, you should give one of them a try." She'd suggested, which Morgan had vehemently rejected, stating that he wasn't flying halfway around the world again for bad food and mediocre views, which had started a short debate on what constituted as flying "halfway around the world" before the conversation had returned to their careers and the challenges with Rick and Morgan having unconventional schedules as cops and them – Michonne and Jenny being non-traditional in their work due to the travel it entailed.
It could be a challenge but thus far things were going well, Rick and Michonne had declared. In the six-weeks since she'd been on her new job, she'd only had to travel once to New York, which allowed them the time they wanted for weekly visits with each other. Jenny had then made a point that Rick and Michonne had already thought of. That based on the duties of Michonne's job, her infrequent travel would eventually change, which would make them continuing to date a tough feat. "Have you considered moving to Atlanta?" She'd then boldly asked Rick, but putting him and Michonne on the spot. "Being in the same town will make things a hell of lot easier for ya'll."
"We haven't really talked about it." Michonne had fessed up as she turned contemplative eyes to Rick, thinking how when he'd mentioned it before, months ago, when they'd just started their relationship, she'd tabled the discussion, feeling it was too soon to address at that time, but things were different now. Perhaps it was time to revisit the discussion again? She thought, seeing the same questions in Rick's eyes.
"I'm not trying to get in your relationship…"
"Honey, but you are in their relationship." Morgan sighed.
"But if ya'll are really serious about being together, which I think ya'll are, maybe it's something you should consider, seriously." The woman had then said, ignoring her husband then went on to detail how she and Morgan had worked out a system. She'd have two weeks with full on travel and two weeks where she wasn't away more than a day or two.
"And I do the same." Morgan had revealed. "I have some seniority at the station so I have some flexibility. I got my schedule change exclusively to days, so that when Jenny has down time, I'm there in the evening with her and Duane."
"This would never work if I was working for a commercial airline." Jenny had declared. "With me working charter flights, the flexibility is something that can be accomplished." The woman had barely finished her thought when her family kicked the party into high gear, first by putting her on the spot, with friends and family and even Morgan getting up to tell stories about her 35 years on this earth, before the cake rolled out. They sang Happy Birthday then the dance party was on.
The music went loud and Michonne felt like she was clubbing in her twenties again. The DJ started off spinning tracks from the catalog of 90s R&B and Gansta Rap, mixed in with Bubblegum Pop, but quickly ventured into modern day chart jewels from Rae Sremmurd, Migos, Drake. Beyoncé, Rihanna, Bruno Mars, Lady Gaga, J Cole, The Weekend and too many others to name. She'd danced until her feet throbbed, but kept going. It was the first time she'd seen Rick dance and amazingly his love for it showed in his talent for rhythm and moves. After about an hour they'd taken a rest to have a drink and chat with some of the many attendees at the party, when not even 15 minutes into their break, the DJ started a fabulous mix of T-Shirt (Migos) and Fake Love (Drake).
A now tipsy Rick had no desire to sit this one out for he was digging the beat. Rick had led her onto the floor aching feet and all, with one hand in his, ushering her along while she raised her free arm to the roof pumping it in pace with the beat. Once on the floor, she and Rick first began dancing face to face, when completely immersed in the pumping music around her, she turned her back to him and the dance suddenly changed. Rick slipped his arm around her waist and gently pulled her against him, igniting a white heat that smoldered in her veins, arresting her breath. He then changed her rhythm, syncing it perfectly to him and in cadence of the song, heightening the fervor within her when he tenderly tightened his grip around her. Michonne gasped as her ass grinded against his groin, the feeling of it teeming with arousal, nearly dissolving her control, when the DJ slowed things down with an old-school jam - Right and a Wrong Way (Keith Sweat), providing her a brief reprieve. Their dance had continued on, but slower and closer with the change of music. She now faced him, her eyes lost in his passionate gaze, her body as one with his, sexily swaying as he slipped his hand over her ass, then hotly took her mouth crushing her resolve.
Minutes later, Rick and Michonne were outside the restaurant in the cool night air, positioned against her car. Their mouths melded together, passionately, hungrily as Michonne slipped her hands in his hair, intertwining her fingers through its curls, driving Rick to moan to ardently deepen his gentle assault on her mouth as his hand slipped down her back to fervently palm her ass. Michonne gasped, then pulled away, causing Rick to groan, as he moved to draw her to him again when just as their lips were a mere breath apart she breathless whispered…
"I'm ready."
"Are you sure?" Rick breathed at hearing the words he'd been waiting weeks to hear, that she was again ready to make love. Michonne silently answered by taking his mouth with sweet passion, inciting him to pull her closer, to tighten his arms around her, when suddenly the moment was stayed by the ringing of his phone. Their kiss ceased, with Rick resting his forehead against hers his breath heavy with fervor as was hers, contemplating whether he should let it go to voicemail, just as the ringing stopped, but then persisted again, making the choice for him.
An hour and a half later
Rick and Michonne arrived in Palmer, with her at the wheel due to Rick's inebriated state. The call had been one of importance. With Lori spending the weekend in Savannah, Rick had to pay a babysitter to keep Carl. It had been her on the phone, informing him that Carl had fallen ill. They'd decided to leave the party, with Rick suggesting Michonne head back to Atlanta considering their weekend was likely shot with Carl being sick. However, Michonne had rejected this suggestion, telling Rick that he was in no condition to drive, to which he'd replied that he could Uber home.
"Now I know you're drunk. You can't take an Uber or Taxi from Macon to Palmer." She'd countered. "I'll drive you home and we can decide what's next once we get there."
Rick had disputed his drunken state, but agreed to allow her driving him home. They'd then left the party, stopped at a 24 hours McDonalds to get some coffee, then hopped on the road back to Palmer. By the time they reached the house, the coffee had sobered Rick. They'd gone inside to find the babysitter frazzled and relieved to see them. She'd directed Rick to Carl's room where he was laying down. Rick had then immediately gone to check on him and the babysitter had soon left. From there the night had turned into endless trips to the bathroom for Carl who understandably had a difficult time due to the frightening experience of dealing with an upset stomach. Michonne had intended to leave, to find a hotel for the night, per Rick's suggestion and really what would be the point of her remaining there when his child was sick, but it had actually worked out. She'd decided to stick around and help Rick out with Carl. While he was rushing his son to the restroom, soothing him through the horror of being sick, she, per Rick's request, fixed Carl some Apple Cider Vinegar to rinse out his mouth, which helped clear the taste of sickness. Furthermore, while doing this, she'd thought of a home remedy her grandmother used, that did wonders for her when she was sick to her stomach as a child. She'd easily found the simple ingredients in Rick's cupboard and quickly pulled together the concoction.
"Hey." Michonne asserted as she came down the hall and saw Rick stepping out of Carl's room. "I brought Carl some Cinnamon water." She said, holding up the steaming mug.
"Cinnamon water?"
"My grandmother used to make it for me when I was a kid. It'll help with the nausea." She explained. Moments later they entered Carl's room, where he lay on the bed, looking white as a sheet and miserable.
"Hey little man." Rick said, coming to stand at the foot of the bed. "You want to sit up? Michonne made something that might help with the nausea."
"I don't want anything from her." The boy stubbornly replied, then swallowed hard as if he was fighting a strong bout of nausea.
"You want to keep feeling sick?" Rick countered. "Or you want to try something that may help?" The boy looked to his father and then Michonne, conflict in his eyes. They could see that he wanted to let down his guard, to try what had been brought, to feel better, but there was another part of him that seemed to be battling any attempt at accepting Michonne. She was just about to go, to give the boy the space that he might need. After all, she was a stranger in his bedroom uninvited. However, the boy slowly sat up and asked what was it? Stopping her planned exit.
"It's cinnamon water." She softly answered as she cautiously walked forward the cup still in hand.
The boy frowned and swallowed, appearing to manage, for now, the strong feeling of sickness. "It's just something that might help with the nausea." She said again what she'd told Rick, then explained to the boy what she had to his father minutes before, how she'd come to learn of the useful beverage.
"Will I stop throwing up?" Carl innocently asked, hope in his tone.
"Probably not." Michonne honestly replied, disappointing the boy as she walked closer to the bed. "As yucky as it is, whatever it is that's making you sick needs to come out, but the cinnamon water will help you to not feel so sick." She said. "Do you want to give it a try?" The boy looked down then answered with a slight nod. Michonne sat down in the chair next to the bed and gave the young boy the now warm mug helping him hold it in his hands, then watched as he carefully brought the cup to his mouth. "Sip." She gently directed. "Just a little a bit." Carl obeyed, taking a sip of the water then leaned his head back, against the headboard, his breathing heavy and closed his eyes.
"How're you feeling?" Michonne quietly asked after a short while.
"I still feel a little sick." He shakily answered.
"But are you feeling better?"
"A little."
"Good. You'll continue to feel a little nauseous until the sickness completely clears up."
"I don't want to throw up again. I hate throwing up." Carl sighed with frustration.
"Me too." Michonne confessed, with a sympathetic smile, when the boy took another swig of the water, then made a confession of his own, after his father, seeing that Michonne had the situation under control and that she was bonding with his child, quietly left the room. "I'm not sick because of a bug." He'd said, which was what his father thought. Then revealed that he was sick because he ate too many cookies. He didn't eat them all at once. The boy had explained. He ate a few, drank some milk, played his X-box, ate a few more, drank more milk, played more X-box and that's how it went for the past few hours until he got sick.
"Are you going to tell my Dad?" He then worriedly asked. "Don't you think your dad will figure it out when he sees all the cookies and milk gone?" Michonne had gently pointed out. To which the boy had sadly agreed, then decided he'd tell his father himself, swore he'd never eat like that again then distressingly announced that he was going to be sick once more. Michonne had rushed him to the restroom, where they found Rick cleaning up the mess that had been made before. Rick had taken it from there, helping his son. Michonne had returned to the front part of the house to fix more Apple Cider Vinegar for Carl to rinse. Surprisingly when she brought it for him to use, he'd asked if she would sit with him again in his room. She had agreed and during that time she'd answered questions he had about her childhood – specifically about being sick, her grandmother, her favorite thing i.e. toys, her horse etc. in between his bouts with sickness, which forced him back to the restroom. This exercise had continued until the wee hours of the morning, when the illness finally abated, and Carl found rest, falling into a peaceful sleep, but not before drowsily telling her "You're not so bad."
Not long after, an exhausted Rick and Michonne made their way to the living room and crashed on the couch.
"I guess us picking up where things left off at the party is out?" Rick tiredly, huskily asked.
"Um yeah. You guessed right." Michonne lightly retorted, severe fatigue in her voice. "There's always tomorrow." She softly added then gently kissed his mouth, with a hint of passion, rousing a warmth within him, before settling into his arms. She sighed and Rick groaned as he wrapped his arms around her. Both loving the feel of having each other so close.
"You were great tonight, great with Carl." He stated, unable to keep the joy out of his voice at seeing his son and the woman he loved finally bonding, even if it was under the strangest of circumstances. "Thank you for staying and helping." He said, then kissed her forehead.
"I didn't mind. It was an experience." She said, then again brushed his lips with hers and lay back in his arms.
"It's parenting, and you're not as bad as you think." He seriously uttered, remembering her frequent comments about not being good with children. There was a moment of quiet, with Michonne contemplating his assertion, thinking that this would've been her life had her pregnancy been successful, but then having the terrifying, yet exciting realization that someday this would be her life, her future with Rick, when he stayed her thoughts with an utterance…
"You know, I've been thinking about what Jenny said…not just tonight, but…since we got back together…"
"Me too." Michonne quietly interjected, knowing exactly what he was talking about, surprising him with her admission.
"Really? So? What do you think about it, me moving to Atlanta?" He asked, prompting her to sit up, to turn and face him, crossing her bare legs and feet before her on the couch.
"I love the idea." She confessed. "Like Jenny said, it would certainly make dating simpler."
"But there is Carl." Rick stated the obvious. "Despite, strangely, how well things went tonight, our relationship will continue to be a challenge for him. If I were to move us to Atlanta…"
"It may cause a setback, and Lori would surely try to stop you from making a move away from Palmer." Michonne finished his thought.
"No doubt." Rick sighed, then leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes, thinking of the nightmare that could be Lori when he decided to move to Atlanta.
"Then there is your job." Michonne continued, drawing his eyes back to her. "You're established here. You have tenure with the King County Sheriff's Department. Any new position you get you'll be starting over, without the benefit of having seniority." She said. "Which likely means a shitty schedule and no time off, at least for a while. You moving to Atlanta will not just be a huge step in our relationship, but a huge step for you. Are you ready to walk away from this place that's been your home for the past 16 years? Moving to Atlanta would mean that you'd leave all of this behind."
"Michonne, it won't be like I'm moving to the other side of the world, it'd just be to Atlanta."
"I know. It's only 300 miles away, but still your family and friends won't be around the corner anymore. You won't have anyone but me."
"That doesn't sound so bad." Rick quietly replied as he gently caressed her cheek.
"I'm serious Rick." Michonne sighed at his touch. "Starting over in a new place, with new people, a new job, can be more difficult than you think. I want you in Atlanta, but I want you and Carl to be happy there."
"I'll be alright. Carl will too." He confidently assured. "Lori is this one that's gone be the problem. She'll fight this tooth and nail."
"So what do we do?"
"I don't know." Rick honestly replied. "But we'll figure it out." He said, then leaned forward and kissed her lips, before he drew her in his arms again.