Things Get Messy
Karen's Hair Klinic was an institution passed down from mother to daughter for generations. No fancy water or champagne distractions. This was an old school beauty shop where 'The Tea' was served and old school wisdom was delivered in generous portions. Michonne approached the counter. "Good Morning. I have a 9:00 am appointment. My name is Michonne."
"Yes, your appointment is with Karen. Please come this way," the receptionist greeted. She was a tall redhead with a full tattooed sleeve on her right arm. When they reached the station Karen was typing on her tablet, "Michonne so nice to meet you."
"Likewise," came her quick reply.
"Please have a seat. I like to have a short consultation before we get started." Karen was the epitome of urban chic. Wild honey blonde afro, pierced brow and matte blue lip color. "Once we're done I will know your product preferences, maintenance and styling needs. I also promise to get you out on time." They share a knowing laugh.
As they talk and Karen works her locs the shop comes to life. Stylists arrive, clients move in and out, brows are waxed, and mani-pedi's are delivered, colorist mix and the laughter and discussion ebbs and flows effortlessly. The harmony is shattered by the reception area. "Code M, I repeat Code M," the inked receptionist shouts back.
"Damn it! Excuse me," Karen explains. All eyes follow her as she makes her way to the front. The speculation starts from the bank of dryers where a group of older women are in the final stages of their roller sets.
"We all know who it is so I don't know why anyone is shocked," dryer #2.
"This mess has been brewing and to be honest I'm surprised it took this long," dryer #1.
"The sad thing is he don't want either of them," dryer #3.
"Blessed be their hearts," all three dryer occupants respond in unison.
Michonne's curiosity gets the better of her, "Excuse me Ladies, but what is Code M?"
"Fight over a man. In my day, a lady didn't carry on like that in public," dryer #3 winks.
"Now, if a hussy was calling on your man. You put some sugar in her gas tank," dryer #1.
"True, but if you put in on him right he won't leave the yard for Jesus or anybody else," dryer #3
"Preach! That is why I had that hip surgery," dryer #2.
"Mm-hm. What's that class we taking-tai chi," dryer #1. Michonne can't help herself-she giggles. These women are a mess.
"If you don't mind me asking- are you that new lawyer Eva was telling us about?" dryer #3.
"Yes Ma'am. Michonne Anthony."
"Well, aren't you lovely," dryer #3.
"Thank you, but I am just trying to keep up with all of you."
"Oh, she is sweet. You know she gave Carl that job," dryer #2.
"No…"dryer #3
"Yes Honey, and got that Walsh boy acting like he got some sense," dryer #1. The women continue to discuss Michonne as if she is not present. Fortunately Karen returns.
"I apologize. I will not tolerate drama of any kind and that foolishness," she shakes her head.
"Karen," dryer #1 delivers in a motherly tone.
"Mama, please," Karen responds somewhere between a whine and exasperation.
"Karen Marie," full- do not make me repeat myself mode.
"Fine, Jessie was here for her regular color touch up and Lori popped in for a fresh trim on her bangs. Future versus past and I dismissed them both." The receptionist approaches Karen's station.
"Babe I'm sorry. She didn't call…I tried to get her to make an appointment and leave."
"Hey, that was not your fault. No offense-but Ms. Jolene, could you please get Rick to pick somebody already?" Karen requests of dryer #3.
Michonne freezes in the chair. Not only were Jessie and Lori fighting over Rick in public but she had inadvertently met his mother. Terror settled in her stomach. Karen turned her chair to face the mirror. She had braided Michonne's locs back on the left side to expose her profile. She examined the style quietly trying to get her emotions under control.
"Why should he have to settle for low hanging fruit," Ms. Jolene responds.
"Exactly," the ladies co-sign.
"Fine, put him on the Bachelor or something," the receptionist retorts with a smirk.
"Bonnie Rae-are you getting beside yourself?" dryer #2 chides.
"No Mama."
"Plus I want pretty grandbabies and that comes from the inside not out. The right one has to be good down to the core."
"Amen," the ladies encourage. At the mention of grandbabies Bonnie Rae bolts to the front and Karen braces herself against the chair. Michonne uses this moment to make her escape.
"Karen, this is perfect. Ladies it was a pleasure."
Jolene turns to her friends, "I think Eva is right."
"We need a front row seat for this," the ladies reply in chorus.
"Sunday dinner," Jolene supplies with a twinkle in her eye.
Sasha and Michonne are riding the elevator to the third floor for their meeting with DA Monroe. "So let me get this straight. Jessie and Lori fought over Rick and you met his mother," she repeats.
"Yes, I thought I might have a stroke. Girl, his mother is a mess talking about s-e-x and grandbabies," Michonne carries on while Sasha laughs.
"I think it is healthy. At least you know he'll be able to get it up years from now and she has no allegiance to the ex's."
"Good point. Alright let's do this; although, I doubt she will be surprised. She is way too astute."
They enter the reception area and true to form Deanna opens the door to her office, "Right on time." They each take a seat at the large conference table. Michonne hands Deanna the folder she carried.
"The folder contains conflict of interest forms for me and Investigator Williams. Her office also included a deputy authorization for Jesus Rovia."
"To clarify conflicts for the ADA's office will transfer to my office, the Investigator's office will handle conflicts within the unit," Deanna states while reviewing the forms.
"Correct."
"Well done…thorough. Please brief the PD's office when you meet."Sasha and Michonne stand to exit. "Ladies, congratulations-good men are hard to find," she smiles. They enter the elevator and breathe a huge sigh of relief.
Glenn opens the door for Maggie. She blows him an air kiss and continues her conversation. "Yes Daddy. I will stop by and make sure plus call to apologize…I love you too." She hangs up with a huff.
"Maggie, have a seat," he begins calmly.
"Wait, I gotta pee," she runs down the hall. Glenn gives himself another silent pep talk while he waits. She re-enters the room, "What are we watching?"
"Sit, please. We need to figure this out," he is scared but determined. He now has her full attention as she lowers herself to the couch. "The way I see it we can continue this arrangement which is fun but temporary or we can choose to evolve and become real, sustaining all challenges, creating a new life beyond these walls."
Her chest is hammering because she is not prepared. This will require a leap of faith that what she feels for him is deep enough and strong enough. Hope that the depth of his feelings can hold steady against what he is asking of her. Her eyes are wide and searching, the room is still and pregnant with possibilities. She raises her gaze to him and the answer is clear. Maggie physically leaps and he catches her. He is firm and unwavering. Glenn will be there with all the love she will ever need it this life and the next.
"I'll take that as a yes," he speaks into her neck. Too overcome with bliss she simply shakes her head. "Great. We have dinner reservations Friday."
Rick and Rosita were patrolling the school zones as part of the Community-based Policing Program at the end of their shift. The presence of officers made the parents feel secure, gave officers an opportunity to interact with students after school and build relationships. Their shift had been uneventful and amusing. Rick was whistling and snapping his fingers to a tune that seemed to play just for him. They turned the corner to pass a local elementary school. He notices his mother's car pulling into the parking lot. "Do you mind if we make a stop?" Rick asks as he hits the turn signal.
"Not at all," she replies.
"I am going to see what my mother is up to so anything is possible. She is what you call-unpredictable." He pulls into the parking space and jogs over with a smile firmly in place, "Hey Ma," he calls.
"Ricky," she exclaims.
"Today must be one of your volunteer days."
"Yeah, we read to the kids after school. Best part of my week since I don't have my own grandbabies to spoil."
"Wow, you couldn't wait until the end of the conversation."
"Why waste time. Lord knows none of us is getting any younger. Here, she hands him her keys, get the cookies out the backseat."
He is retrieving cookies when he hears the familiar laughter. Jolene Grimes, Eva Williams, Ida B. Webb and Patti Noth. Their voices were the soundtrack of his childhood.
"Need some help," Rosita approaches.
"I need to warn you. They are highly inappropriate and the top priority for any conversation is marriage and babies."
"Duly noted," she replies while accepting the boxes of cookies.
"Ladies, should you really unleash all this beauty on these young impressionable minds," he flirts unabashedly.
"Boy, if you ain't your daddy's son," Ms. Patti retorts.
"I would like to introduce my deputy trainee Rosita."
"Hello Ladies."
"Aren't you spunky," Ida B. compliments.
"Thank you Ma'am."
"Ricky, do have plans for Sunday?" Jolene Grimes asks pointedly.
"I need to check my calendar…"he is stopped by the collective clearing of throats. "I will be there by 6:00 pm," he replies respectfully. He and Rosita follow behind the women balancing the boxes.
As they make their exit Rick stops to hug his mother goodbye. She rises up on her toes and whispers in his ear. "Don't forget to pick up Michonne on Sunday."
Rick makes his way home dazed and confused. He dad was right-his mother is some sort of a mind reader or psychic. How in the world would he explain this to Michonne? They barely told their bosses. He thought for sure they would manage a month or two of privacy. This was too much to process. Time for him to focus on the here and now- he has a hot dessert date with the woman of his dreams.
After her long day Michonne decided on a hot bath in her favorite fragrance-Amber Romance. The sweet potato pie was on the counter, two cans of whip cream were in the fridge and an indulgent impulse purchase of Rocky Road ice cream sat in the freezer. If she was being honest the ice cream was a peace offering-sorry I met your mom. She exited the tub and checked the clock. Selecting her Lover's playlist she added a layer of body lotion with a touch of golden shimmer before tying the thin white lace apron around her neck and waist. Finally she placed the full box of magnum condoms on the nightstand and moved to the front of the house.
She used the dimmer switch to adjust the lighting. Knock-knock-knock Rick's knuckles sounded in rapid succession against her door. Michonne opened the door slightly, retreating backwards with slow steps as he moved deliberately toward her slamming the door closed. Once she had him inside she turned and sauntered to the kitchen.
Rick's mind held but one thought-goddess. Michonne was covered in nothing but an apron. Her nipples pressed against the fabric and he dewy, moist core were on display just for him. Then she turned to remind him of that glorious ass. He wanted to fall to his knees and thank all the saints. He was momentarily pulled back to reality once he recognized her actually discussing desserts. "Rick did you decide?"
"Michonne, if you like that apron, have it off by the time I reach the bedroom. I want the whip cream on the nightstand and you spread eagle on the bed. I guarantee every inch of you will be worshipped tonight," he directed.
"Yes, Officer Grimes," she replied seductively. Thank goodness my morning meeting re-scheduled until 10:00 am.
They were in the living room now, half a box of condoms at his feet. Michonne was hanging on for dear life. One leg was wrapped around his waist the other propped against his shoulder. Rick's tight grip on her hips was bruising as he rammed into her with so much force she saw stars behind her closed eyes. "Give it to me… I want it…come again."
"I can't…breathe…"
He swiveled his hips and thrust at a new angle and she broke punching down on his shoulder as a silent scream escaped her lungs. Her pussy clamped down on him and milked an orgasm from his throbbing dick he would not soon forget. Rick helped bring her leg down as they gently pulled apart wincing ever so slightly. "I got you," he whispered adjusting her in his lap.
"Too hot," she slid out of his lap and tumbled onto the floor.
Rick peeled himself off the leather chair only to return with a warm cloth for her and two bottled waters. She had not moved. His hand ghosted against her cheek, "I was too rough."
"No," she mouthed. He continued to ghost his hand over her sprawled naked body.
One hour later they were enjoying each other's company in a warm luxurious bath. Rick nuzzled her neck, "I like your hair. I have better access to your neck," he kisses tenderly.
Michonne swallow. This is my opening. "Thank my new stylist. The appointment was eventful."
"Really, how so?" he lifts her hand and entwines their fingers.
"Well there was a confrontation between two clients and Imetyourmother," she mumbles quickly.
"Say what?" his brows knit in confusion.
She turns and faces him, "Jessie and Lori were fighting over you in the lobby and I accidently met your mother," Michonne speaks clearly but sheepishly.
Rick stares at her, "Let me get this straight. Lori, who I broke up with after high school graduation and Jessie who I went on one date with are fighting over me. Plus, through some strange twist of fate you met my mother-Jolene Grimes," both eye brows raise. Michonne can only shake her head up and down. "Well that explains everything."
"What does that mean?" her voice is bathed in confusion.
"We were summoned to Sunday dinner," he states while squeezing the bridge of his nose.
"What? No…too soon…no…like seriously," Do they all come? Have you met these women?" Michonne is in full panic mode.
"Breath, I'll make her keep it small. You can handle Ma and Dad."
She inhales deeply, resigned, "I thought, maybe hoped, we would have more time for us. No outside expectations."
It is quiet. "Done, we are not going," he is determined.
"No, it's alright. She is your mother. Maybe…"
"Michonne, he interjects, do you want more time for us?" She shakes her head up and down and peers up at him through her lashes. He kisses the tip of her nose. "Like I said-done. You are my priority. Let's get ready for bed." She wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him tight. He senses her relief and feels more like a man than ever before.
Rick was working graveyard because Daryl was away on his FBI operation. I hope things are going well for him. He picks up his phone, dials and waits, "Hey Dad, I need a favor?"
Jeffrey Grimes loves everything about his wife. Her unconditional love, sense of adventure, and determination-he would not change a thing. He also knew who she was and her respect for boundaries and patience were her areas of weakness.
"Jolene," he called through the house.
"Kitchen…"
After speaking with his son he was not surprised by the scene in front of him: cookbooks littered with post-it notes and her cell on the counter set to speaker mode. Jeffrey took a deep breath and prepared for battle. "We need to talk."
"Not now I am preparing for Sunday dinner," she returned to her phone conversation.
"Jolene," his tone invites her to engage with him. She continues to ignore him. He shakes his head from side to side, "Shut it down."
"What…we're half way through the menu. Don't be silly."
"Enough. Shut it down," his tone is resolute.
"I need to go," ending the call. Jolene turns slowly and faces her husband.
"I spoke to our son this morning. There will not be Sunday dinner and you will apologize."
"But I was only…I just want him to have what he deserves," she states with pleading eyes.
"I know Honey, but let me ask you. What does he want?" Her mouth opens and closed repeatedly. "Exactly," he clarifies.
"Will he take my call?" she fidgets with her hands.
Jeffrey kisses her forehead, "He's expecting your call," he replies tenderly and exits the kitchen.
Jolene dials her son's number and as soon as she hears his voice the tears come, "I'm so sorry. I got excited. Are you mad? Oh God, she must hate me. I am the terrible overbearing mother-in-law. I want to fix it. Tell me what to do," she sniffles out frantically.
"Ma, calm down. Please don't cry. No one hates you. We need time and space," Rick explains.
"Of course, should I call her? Maybe we should meet…"
"Ma," he interrupts.
"Right… boundaries."
"One more thing-shut down the grapevine," Rick requests. Let's put her powers to good use.
"Done."
"Thanks. I need to go I am on graveyard tonight."
"Alright Ricky, enjoy your nap." He laughs. In her head I am still her little boy.