AN: Hi everyone! This is just a short little chapter. I'll try to have something out for you soon. I've been working on all of my stories and work has been ridiculous around here (with no sign of letting up) so I haven't had as much time as usual. No worries, though, there's lots more to come! (Remember, I'm the nut who is already planning a sequel for those of you who want to read it…)
This chapter isn't exciting. It isn't great either. It's a character introduction/character development chapter that's kind of dull but just a little nugget of information for later. It's sort of like those blue pieces of sky when you're putting a puzzle together…they're pretty boring all on their own, but they do serve at least a little purpose to the picture later.
Even with that said, I still hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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"Mrs. Dixon, could you come in here a moment, please?" The voice bellowed out.
Carol dropped her pencil on the floor out of the shock of the voice bellowing through the quiet of the law office. Michonne had left earlier to take something somewhere…or pick something up…Carol didn't really remember which had been the case, and she was alone in the office with Michonne's father who had come in for one of his partial days to take care of a few things pertaining to the handful of clients that he still worked with.
The man hardly ever spoke to her, though. He was a nice enough old man, it wasn't really that she thought his silence meant anything against her, he just seemed to be a man of few words.
Carol decided to forego trying to retrieve the pencil. She had an ever growing condition now that had taught her to really consider how much she needed things that hit the floor and how much she could just let go of. Much to Lincoln's pleasure at home, she'd discovered that many things that hit the floor just didn't matter to her all that much.
Carol got up from her chair and made her way toward the man's office, curious to know what might the man might want of her.
"Can I help you with something?" She asked, standing with her hand on the doorway.
Marvin Hart looked up from whatever he was working over on his desk, removing the half lensed, gold rimmed glasses perched on the front of his nose. He gestured toward one of the fake green leather chairs in front of his desk with a sweeping motion.
"Please," he said, "come in."
Carol smiled softly at the old man and passed into the office to sit in one of the chairs.
Marvin Hart had a deep voice, the kind that made it sound like every word he uttered was bellowed out. He was an intimidating man in appearance, mostly owing to the fact that despite his advanced years he still seemed strongly built. There was nothing feeble about him. He was a handsome man for his age too, and Carol could only imagine what he'd looked like some fifty years ago.
And he was probably the most well put together man that Carol had ever seen in her life. Everything about him was pristine and pressed and perfect. There was never a wrinkle in his clothes that could be found and everything about him seemed perfectly manicured. Carol couldn't imagine that he'd ever been genuinely dirty or unkempt a day in his life.
Perhaps that's where Michonne got her perfectionism from, though Carol wasn't sure what kind of woman Michonne's mother was either. She may very well be even more put together than her husband, though Carol thought it would be hard to find such a person.
Carol knew that Marvin had been married to Michonne's mother when both of them had graduated high school. They'd both gone to college, something that was entirely unprecedented at the time on either side of Michonne's family, and they'd been happy together, so it seemed, ever since. Michonne was their only child, and she'd been, for lack of a better term, one of those menopause babies that had arrived when her mother had already suspected her reproductive years were missed and far behind her. As a result, her parents were far older than Michonne was, though both of them were in relatively good health for their age. And she was, and Carol suspected had always been, the apple of their eyes…particularly of Marvin's.
"Are you well, Mrs. Dixon?" Marvin asked.
Carol raised her eyebrows at him and wondered if she was making a face because she had no idea what this might be in reference to or why the man might want her to sit. Normally if there was any interaction between them at all it was strictly what he needed her to do…filing, mailing things, making phone calls, picking something up…invitations to take a seat worried her because they sounded like they might be bad and the last thing she needed was to lose a job with the baby coming.
Carol nodded, though, and forced a smile.
"Carol…and I'm fine, Mr. Hart," Carol said.
The old man nodded his head slightly and shifted in his chair, somewhat folding his hands on the desk, his glasses held firmly in their grip, as though he were about to say something very important.
Carol could feel her heart pounding and she was almost frantically searching her memory for anything she might have done or failed to do that might be about to be brought to her attention.
Marvin swallowed and tipped his head a little. It would help, perhaps, if the man smiled, but he wasn't much of a smiling individual. Only occasionally had Carol ever caught a glimpse of one from him, and most of the time that was solely directed toward his daughter.
"Michonne told me," Marvin started, "about the dinner that she had with you and your friends three days ago."
Carol couldn't forget that dinner. It was probably one of those things that was likely to go down in infamy. By the time the whole thing was completed and they finally saw Tyreese off with his sister, them being the first to leave, Sasha had managed in at least some way to move from person to person and insult each and every individual there.
And what was probably the worst part of it all was that she hadn't even really seemed to be aware that she was doing it. Most of her insults weren't malicious attacks as much as they were harshly judgmental observations about one area or another in their lives in which they were all lacking.
It had been bad enough, in fact, that even Hershel and Jo Greene, who hardly ever had a negative word to say about anyone, had been pleased to see the girl go and Hershel had commented on how she was a "nice young girl" but that she "had a lot to learn" about life and about people who hadn't, perhaps, always been blessed with the same set of circumstances that had been given to her by life.
She was young, and she had a lot to learn. Life had never knocked her down…apparently not once. And while that was great for her, it wasn't great for the people that she encountered who had spent as much time flat on their asses in life as they had standing up.
Carol wasn't sure what this might be in reference to, exactly, about the dinner, but she'd known it had been difficult for Michonne. Michonne had spent most of the event looking like she might either throw up or pass out and then when the girl had finally gone with Tyreese to catch a movie with him while Michonne stayed behind to help clean up, she'd just looked like she was exhausted.
But since Carol didn't know what she was about to have to answer for, she simply nodded a little at Marvin and hoped the man would continue.
"Michonne has always been a sweet girl," Marvin said. "Ever since she was a child. She's tenderhearted, sometimes to a fault."
Carol nodded slightly. She wasn't sure where it was going, but she wasn't going to interrupt. She had no reason to do so and there was something about Marvin Hart that demanded that the man not be interrupted…or opposed either really…in any way.
"She's always wanted to do things for people. It's part of what made her want to go into law, but I've always feared it would be what would lead her to spend much of her life with a broken heart," Marvin continued. "You see…people have a tendency to take advantage of someone who is so willing to give. They're happy to accept everything that one is willing to give to them, but they really aren't willing to offer the same in return."
Carol felt her stomach clench. Maybe she could imagine where this was going if she put her mind to it. Michonne was a very giving person. All of them knew it. She always seemed to have some gift here for this person, or some gift there for another. Carol knew that she'd helped her and Daryl out more than she could ever list if she had to and she knew that Michonne was also, mostly through Tyreese, making sure that Andrea and Merle got things that they otherwise would never have.
Michonne was almost like a yearlong Santa Clause of sorts.
And the truth was, no one ever thanked her enough.
Part of the reason that they didn't extend the thanks, though, that they felt they should was that Michonne didn't care for the thank yous. They seemed to make her uncomfortable and she tried to avoid or dismiss them as soon as they were uttered. It had led everyone, in fact, to simply pretend that she was actually like Santa Clause. They were delighted and made a big deal about the wonderful things that magically happened to them…but they almost pretended that they had no idea where they had come from or how they managed to fall directly into their paths.
But maybe they had been doing her an injustice all along…and maybe Marvin knew about it…and Marvin Hart didn't seem like the kind of man who took well to people not treating his daughter the way that she deserved to be treated.
"Was it your brother in law or your husband? The Dixon man who ate half a pumpkin pie?" Marvin asked suddenly, lowering his eyebrows at Carol.
Carol almost chuckled at the memory of it. Merle had the table manners of a goat, and he was unapologetic about it.
She hoped that the mere thought of it wasn't something that was offensive to Marvin, but she could imagine it might be since he most certainly didn't appear to be the type of man who would proceed to eat directly from a pie tin. She doubted, sincerely, that he so much as produced crumbs when he ate things.
She shifted a little in her chair.
"It was my brother in law," Carol said. "Merle…"
The old man nodded, put his glasses on his desk, and raised his hands up so that his pointer fingers, forming a small triangle, rested against his chin as he regarded her. He was quiet for a moment and his face was set in the strong and thoughtful manner that Michonne had apparently gotten from him for whenever she was deep in thought about something.
"Michonne has hardly ever had any real friends," Marvin said. He sighed and glanced at the desk for a moment. "Perhaps her mother and I failed her in that. We wanted her to be strong and independent. We wanted her to be a good person and to see the good in others…" Marvin paused. "Perhaps where we went wrong was that we forgot to teach her how to see when the good was genuine, and when it was false."
Carol swallowed and nodded a little more.
"Tyreese Scott seems like a nice young man," Marvin continued. "He appears to care for my daughter, and my granddaughters, and that's something I could never say for Dean."
"I think he loves her…" Carol offered, wondering if it was the right thing to say.
"She's been very worried about his sister," Marvin said. "The girl is, I think, concerned that because Michonne made a poor choice in marrying Dean that she will somehow jeopardize whatever relationship she might develop with Tyreese. Your brother in law, however, seems to have calmed her concerns about the sister. It seems that she may have had a change of heart."
Carol raised an eyebrow. They'd all thought that what Merle did was liable to have some impact…what he said, but they didn't know if it actually had. Sasha had spent the rest of dinner avoiding anything around the topic with anyone…which had mostly lead to her stumbling into a wide variety of commentary on everyone else's affairs…but it hadn't been clear if what Merle had said had actually changed her mind at all or simply served to make her want to avoid the topic around a man who so clearly had no concern for her comfort.
"Michonne seems to have found," Marvin continued, "some good people in you and your friends. She has been happier since she started speaking of you all than she has been in some time. She's stopped fretting so much over Dean, and frankly it's been a joy to see her happy again. The only dark cloud that my wife and I have seen over her was Sasha's poor opinion of her…and it seems that Merle has done something to make that dissipate."
Marvin reached in his desk and came back out with a business card. Carol watched as he plucked a pen from a nearby cup and wrote something on it. He picked the card up and held it in his hand.
"I would like you to give him my thanks on the matter," Marvin said. "And I would like you to let the man know that I wish to extend my gratitude, in whatever way he sees fit."
Marvin stretched his hand out and Carol sat up, accepting the card from it and seeing that on the back of it he had written his private telephone number. She nodded at him and tucked it into the palm of her hand.
"I'll tell him," Carol said, not sure what else was fitting at the moment. She couldn't imagine what Merle might want or need from the man and she was quite sure that he'd probably just stick the card somewhere where it would be forgotten.
Merle Dixon wasn't a man to ask for favors. Michonne didn't even extend favors to him. Anything she wanted to do for him, or for him and Andrea, she had Tyreese disguise in the form of extra work for Merle or she went directly through Andrea.
Merle wasn't likely to want anything that Marvin Hart had to offer. The thanks really wouldn't even be necessary, since Merle was a man who was made, at least somewhat, uncomfortable by any show of gratitude.
"I would like for this to be kept confidential," Marvin said. "I would rather that Michonne not know that we spoke about this, and I trust that you will let Merle know that I would trust him to keep that confidence as well."
Carol nodded.
"Of course," she said. She smiled. To her surprise, Marvin mirrored the smile with a warm one of his own, the kind he had reserved, until now, for Michonne.
Carol sat there a moment, unsure of whether or not the meeting was over and whether or not there was something more that the man would ask of her. He held her gaze a moment before picking up the gold rimmed glasses, unfolding them, and resting them back in their position on the end of his nose.
"Did you need anything else?" Carol asked with a little hesitation.
Marvin shook his head at her.
"That's all I required," he said.
Carol nodded and struggled to pull herself out of the fake leather chair. The chairs weren't built for people who weren't able to simply stand straight up or sit straight down without needing a little leverage from somewhere.
She was proud of herself, though, because she had made it to her feet, and thus far, despite their offers, she had yet to absolutely need anyone's assistance to do anything. Each time she accomplished something, and at home that was typically under the gaze of someone watching her as though they were waiting for her to admit defeat, she felt like she'd had a small victory. Even though Marvin wasn't watching her that way, having turned back to whatever lie open on his desk for the moment, Carol still felt the small surge of achievement.
She started out of the office and Marvin's voice caught her and made her turn around.
"Mrs. Dixon?" Marvin called.
Carol turned back, stopping, wondering if he'd suddenly remembered something she needed to mail or something she needed to file for him.
"Yes, sir?" She asked.
Marvin smiled again.
"Congratulations…to you and to your husband," Marvin said. "A daughter is a blessing."
Carol smiled and without thinking about it rubbed her belly. She nodded.
"Thank you," Carol said. "And she already is."
Without a word, the old man ducked his head again and went back to what he was working on. Carol smiled to herself and rubbed her belly as she made her way back into the little office area that she occupied.
She settled down in her chair, tucking one of the throw pillows she'd brought in behind her back to make it more comfortable, and looked at the business card for a moment. She'd extend the thank you to Merle, tell him what the man said so that no bad karma or anything would come hurling her way for having lied to Marvin Hart, and she'd keep the rest to herself.
It made her feel good to think that they, even though none of them really had a thing to offer and could never hope to repay Michonne for the things that she did, had at least had enough to be able to offer the woman something…no matter how small or insignificant it could be.
Carol leaned and tucked the card into her purse. She eyed the pencil that she'd dropped earlier that had rolled slightly under the desk and considered whether or not she was feeling enthusiastic enough to go after it. Finally, though, she decided that getting out of the low, straight back chair in the office was accomplishment enough for one day and she dug through her desk to find another pencil and get back to the financial papers that Michonne had brought for her to work on so that the woman wouldn't suspect that anything significant had happened to distract her from her work.
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AN: Carol's line about Merle's table manners being those of a goat was not mine. I can't take credit for it. It came from adelicateflower08's review and she said that I could use it.