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Chapter Four

Michonne stepped into the large dress, pulling it over her waist, then slipped her arms into its sleeves, with Maggie assisting her. This had been the routine for the last couple of days, her trying on numerous dresses in an attempt to find some semblance of a wedding gown. Options were limited, so Maggie had asked all the ladies in the community, specifically those who'd lived there before everything had gone bad to donate potential wedding dresses Michonne could where. The ladies had enthusiastically rose to the occasion. Many providing an evening gown or two, some even offering the gowns they'd worn at their own weddings. The inventory was impressive. Even so, Michonne had yet to find something that she liked or didn't require extensive alterations to fit her size. Michonne stared at her reflection in the mirror with a slight frown, not particularly feeling the dress, she was wearing. It was white, with a huge ball gown skirt and ruffled lace tiers at the bottom. The front and back of the bodice dipped into a V, and was accented with more lace frill, and a sheer chiffon that covered the chest and gathered at the neck into a lace collar. The sleeves were sheer, puffy and long and ended at her wrists with a lace band. While the enormous skirt, extended out with a two-foot train. The gown was vintage, being a blend of early Victorian era and 1980s style. It was certainly different and not something Michonne had envisioned wearing.

What do you think? Maggie cautiously asked after she'd finished buttoning the gown.

Michonne met Maggie's eyes in the mirror, her expression that of displeasure and faint horror.

You hate it.

Is it that obvious? Michonne replied.

Yes. Maggie whispered. But I can't blame you. It's terrible. She said with a quiet laugh as she moved to Michonne's side, who helplessly laughed herself. What are we going to tell Mrs. Johnson? She asked, referring to the woman who'd donated the gown and like several others had insisted that Michonne consider it, their specific donation, as her choice.

That it's too big. Michonne proposed, prompting Maggie to look to her side where she was holding up the dress so that it would appear fitted.

She offered to take it up. Maggie countered.

Seriously?

She swears she's done seamstress work in the past and can fix the dress to fit if needed be. Maggie barely finished saying, when the woman excitedly entered the room, carrying with her the matching veil, which was a V shaped hat that didn't even properly fit over Michonne's dreads, when the woman plopped it onto her head.

Well?! Mrs. Johnson exclaimed, proudly eying the assemble she'd just created for Michonne.

It's a little big. Michonne slowly answered.

Well that's nothing a little needle and thread can't fix. The woman said as she then walked around Michonne to where she held the dress gathered at her waist, immediately taking it from her hand and began adjusting it to see how she could take it up.

Michonne and Maggie exchanged a worried look, both wondering how the woman could possibly think what reflected in the mirror was anything close to being appealing, then thought how she could be told that her dress was not going to be chosen.

Mrs. Johnson. Michonne then said. Mrs. Johnson. She had to say again when the woman so excited and focused on determining the alterations she'd need to make, that she'd not heard her the first time. The woman finally looked up, letting go of the dress when Michonne continued to speak.

Thank you, for offering your dress. It really means a lot to me.

Oh honey you're welcome, I'm just glad...

Mrs. Johnson! Michonne interjected, causing Maggie to awkwardly drop her eyes, knowing what was coming next. I won't be wearing your dress. She carefully said.

Why not? The woman questioned with alarm.

It's too big.

I can alte…

There's not enough time to alter it, and the dress, just isn't me. Michonne gently conveyed to the speechless woman. I appreciate the gesture. I really do, but I'm going to go with something else. The woman was quiet for a long moment her eyes down. Are you okay? Michonne then asked.

I'm disappointed. The woman admitted now looking Michonne in the eyes. But I'll be okay.

Michonne nodded, a sympathetic look on her face, acknowledging what had been said.

I'll have Francine pull out the last rack. The woman then awkwardly stated. And we can start looking over those dresses.

That won't be necessary. Michonne said. Maggie and I will take it from here.

Alright. The woman slowly replied. Well... if you need anything…I'll be downstairs. The older woman stated, then quickly excused herself from the room before they could respond.

Michonne and Maggie's eyes instantly locked and neither knew whether to smile or remained stoic. They both ultimately went with the laughter at the situation, the task of finding a wedding gown that had become more wayward than a herd of hungry walkers.

I'm sorry this has gotten so out of control. Maggie profusely apologized.

Don't worry about it. Michonne said as she took off the wedding hat, looked at it with disbelief and returned her attention to Maggie. Now what?

I think there's a Macy's off Duke street. Maggie jokingly suggested, driving Michonne to shake her head and laugh.

There's another rack of dresses downstairs. Michonne then said. There's got to be something in there...and if there isn't...

Then we're taking a trip to Macy's. Maggie vowed.

The smell was nearly stifling, the scent of fresh meat and blood permeating the room. This was the first time in a long while that such a smell was actually for something good. Rick thought as he slammed his hatchet through the meat, cutting off a fourth of a rib, then proceeding to sever more. The hunt had been successful, more successful than they expected it to be. He and Darryl had managed to track two deer and take them down before any walkers got to them. They'd then brought them back to the community and had spent the last several hours skinning them, then packaging the meat for storage.

This should keep us good for a while. Darryl said, proudly eying their kills.

Yeah. This is enough for the wedding and at least most of winter. Rick agreed.

Michonne will be happy. Darryl added, recalling Rick mentioning how much she enjoyed deer meat.

Yeah. She will. Rick smiled as he continued to chop...

The wedding still driving her crazy?

Yeah. It's the people. They're excited. They want to be a part of planning every detail. He said. Michonne can't relinquish that type of control though. She's constantly having to shut down the people who take the crazy too far.

Too bad y'all can't elope.

Nah, I wouldn't have it any other way. Rick said, thinking of what it was going to be like, what it was already like, having the full wedding experience with Michonne and their kids and with their friends and family in attendance, just how they wanted it.

Darryl studied Rick a moment, noting his complete and utter joy.

You really love her don't you? Rick looked up at his friend to find him staring his way.

I do. He admitted, still contemplative. After Lori died, there wasn't even a thought of finding someone else…. but then Michonne showed up, and before I realized, she was everything, not just to my children, but to me.

She's a good woman. Daryl declared. I'm happy for you, both of you.

Rick nodded with a smile then began packing up some of the meat he'd chopped, into containers that would be stored in the community freezer. You know I don't have anyone to stand up for me, at the ceremony. He then casually stated.

Carl won't do it? Darryl asked, now focused on packing his own meat away.

No. He'll be busy doing something else…you know, you've been with me from the start…seen me through some of the worst times in my life, and some of the best…"

What are you saying? Darryl asked, stopping what he was doing to give his full attention to Rick.

I'd like you to stand up for me at my wedding.

You sure? Darryl questioned in shock, not knowing what else to say.

You're my brother…I wouldn't have it any other way.

Aight. Darryl accepted after a long pause. But I ain't planning no bachelor party or giving no toasts at the reception. I suck at shit like that.

Fair enough. Rick laughed.

Michonne carried a sleeping Judith into her room, then gently lay her down in her crib and watched as the child slightly stirred before settling back into her deep slumber. Michonne took the baby monitor and made her way down the hall to her and Rick's bedroom. In addition to spending a part of the day searching for a wedding dress, which she was ecstatic to have found, she'd worked on other plans for the wedding. Wild flowers would be her bouquet and most of the guests would be standing at the ceremony, since there weren't enough chairs to accommodate the whole community. There wouldn't be bridesmaids or groomsmen. That part of the wedding would remain simple with pretty much just her and Rick standing with Gabriel. She'd also found music for her wedding march. Knowing she'd need music for the ceremony, Ms. Travis had brought by her iPod telling her she could borrow it for the wedding. The device had quite a diverse catalog of music, some of which she never thought the woman would listen to. She'd spent a good two hours scanning through the playlist, listening not only to songs that could potentially work for the wedding, but songs that brought back fond memories from her life before. When she'd finally settled on a modern piece of music that wasn't in line with the traditional classical works that had been used for weddings in the past. Michonne set the baby monitor on the dresser, then took off her gloves, laying them next to the device. She then removed her sword, propping it against the nightstand. Then took off her head band.

Hey Carl said, standing in the doorway of the room.

Hey. Michonne said as she removed her leather vest then threw it on the bed. How's the training going?

Good. How about you? How's the wedding planning?

Good. I found a dress. She excitedly revealed.

Awesome! Do you like it?

Of course. I wouldn't have picked it if I didn't. She said then had flashes of the abomination that Mrs. Johnson had suggested and nearly laughed again in disbelief.

How are the expansion plans coming? Carl then suddenly asked, prompting Michonne to give him a questioning look.

What's going on? She asked.

What? Carl anxiously replied.

You never ask about my work unless you're worried about something. Are you worried about something?

No. I just want to know about the expansion.

Carl. Michonne stated with skepticism, drawing the young man into the room.

Ok. He conceded. There is something else…about the wedding.

What about it?

I know you're not into traditions, but I want to give you something. He nervously stated. Carl then reached into his back pocket, pulled out a small, square, white box and apprehensively extended it to Michonne. Michonne, slightly smiled, her eyes curious with anticipation as she took the box from his hand, then lifted its lid, nearly gasping at what she saw.

Carl? Where did you find this? She had to ask.

All over. He replied with a sigh, releasing some of the tension he felt at giving her the gift. Enid made it from stuff she's found around the community and stuff I brought back when I've shadowed runs. I had her making it for your birthday, but since it's new, and blue, I thought, it'd be nice for the wedding.

Michonne pulled the jewelry from the box and studied what was truly a work of art. It was a bracelet made with what appeared to be embroidery thread in two colors– white and cream, twisted together. The gorgeous thread was accented with three, light blue crystal glass beads that were trimmed in silver and painted with small green leaves, while in between each bead, there were four charms, a silver cat, cowboy hat, pacifier and horse.

It's beautiful. Michonne uttered as she lifted misty eyes to Carl, who was her son in every way except blood.

It's us. He said a hint of shakiness in his voice, due to the emotion the moment had stirred. Me, you, dad and Judith.

Michonne quietly shook her head, acknowledging that she'd deciphered the meaning and smiled as she wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye and thanked him for the gift.

I have something for you too. She then emotionally stated. Well, something I want to ask.

What? Carl questioned, sniffling back his own emotion that was close to overflowing.

Will you stand with me at the wedding? Be my…man of honor?

What's that? Carl asked with a frown, causing Michonne to laugh.

It's the male version of the maid of honor, the person who helps the bride with all her wedding needs and is often a good friend.

I thought you weren't into traditions.

I'm not. But there are some traditions I'm willing to embrace. I don't need you to help with the wedding. I think Maggie and the rest of the community are more than helpful with that. She said, with a hint of snark and a smile. I want you to stand with me because outside of your dad, you're the person I trust the most, and you're the most precious person in my life…will you stand with me?

Yes. I'll do it. Carl proudly, emotionally agreed.

Thank you. Michonne tearfully replied, then enfolded him in her arms.