Act a Fool
Sunday
Sasha rolls over and smells the pillow-Ocean Breeze. She sighs heavily. Daryl did exactly what he said he would do. He lied on top of the covers and held her until she fell asleep. He left the door cracked open the entire time. Jackass. She pulls on her robe entering the kitchen. "Morning Daddy," she greets.
"Morning Baby Girl," he returns between sips of coffee.
"Where's Mama?" she notices the pile of cinnamon rolls on the counter.
Harry chuckles, "Had Daryl carry her to the store. I can't remember the last time I ate this good."
"Humph," she huffs.
He watches his daughter. He loves her more than anything in this world. Lord knows he spoiled her and clearly Daryl was as well. "Sasha I want you to listen to me. That man loves the very thought of you and there is not one thing he would not do or give if you ask. So when he says no. You need to respect him and his decision."
She looks at her sock covered feet with the letter 'D' stitched onto the fabric and becomes ashamed and embarrassed. "I'll do better," she replies.
Daryl and Lonette were ten minutes away from the grocery store. "Mrs. Williams I enjoyed our visit and you don't have to go to any more trouble."
"This is not trouble. I'm glad to do it and the way you tore through that table you were glad I did," she laughs.
"I was but don't tell Sasha. She wants to improve my diet."
"That's her job. My job is to spoil you," she smiles.
Daryl turns and looks at her realizing she means what she said. "Thank you, Mrs. Williams."
She pouts and stares out the window. He knows that look. "Can I ask what's wrong?"
She sighs, "Look, you gone have to stop calling me Mrs. Williams. That is his evil ass mama's name," she spits out.
Daryl holds his belly and laughs long and hard.
"There is not one thing I could do right. Don't use that butter. You need to use molasses on his cornbread. What you need to work for? Why you didn't make my grandbaby's Easter Dress?" she mocks shaking her head and laughing.
He wipes the tears of joy from his eyes, "Ok, Ms. Lonette. I will never call you by that name again."
She pats his thigh, "Thank you Baby."
They enter the store and Daryl grabs two carts: one to push and one to pull. "Where do you want to start?"
The first cart fills quickly with prime rib, fresh vegetables and enough ingredients to make every side dish she knows. Now they are in the middle of the baker's aisle. "Daryl, go up front and get me two or three of them big bags of ice before the church rush come. I'm making ice cream," she directs.
"Homemade ice cream-from scratch," he is shocked and delighted.
"Of course," she keeps scanning the shelves.
Daryl pace towards the front of the store quickens.
"Lonette, girl you must have company," Gladys greets.
"Hey Girl," Lonette embraces her best friend, "I was going to call and invite you to an early dinner. Your goddaughter is here."
"What brings Sasha to town?" she is excited.
"Work and her new big strapping man," Lonette emphasizes.
"Give me the time so I can check this one out. What was that last boy's name," Gladys stops mid-sentence.
"Ms. Lonette. I got four bags just in case," Daryl approaches balancing bags of ice on his shoulders. He drops them into the empty cart.
Gladys points, "This is him?" Lonette nods. Gladys dips back and leans to the side, "Have mercy."
"Daryl, this is my best friend Gladys," Lonette introduces.
"Nice to meet you," he extends his hand, "Sasha talks about you all the time," he smiles politely.
"You taking care of my Girl?" she teases.
"When she lets me," he winks.
She turns to her friend, "I will be there by the time you hit the kitchen-red velvet?"
"Like you have to ask," she watches her friend exit.
Daryl and Lonette reach check out and start unloading. The blonde cashier watched him earlier and unfastened the top button on her shirt. He was new and she was taking her shot now. When he pulls the cart with the ice forward she stops him, "No need, I will just lean over and use the scanner."
"No hoe-you won't. You got an ice button on that machine-use it," Lonette commands.
Daryl's body trembles trying not to laugh. The patrons behind them giggle. The cashier turns several shades of red and completes their transaction as quickly as possible.
Maggie and Michonne walk the top floor of the mall snacking and laughing. "This trip is a bust," Maggie sighs.
"Is it possible we own everything," Michonne questions.
"Nah," they both shake their heads and smile.
They ride the escalator to the bottom floor, "Is that Carl?" Maggie squints peering into the athletic store.
Michonne turns, "What is he doing?"
"I think he is trying to measure his foot with another shoe?"
"Amateur."
They enter the store, "Hey Carl, they greet in unison."
He spins, "Hey Ladies, what's up?"
"We were shopping. What are doing?" Maggie asks.
"Noah," he points over his shoulder, "and I are shopping too."
Michonne shakes her head, "That is blasphemy. You are not shopping. You are not close to shopping," her voice is stern and offended.
Noah approaches with a shoe in his hand, "Hi, I'm Noah. I heard all about you-Michonne and Maggie right," he greets. They exchange handshakes.
Maggie perks up, "We can teach them how to shop," she turns to Michonne.
"Yes, yes, yes," Michonne claps her hands.
The Boys shrug. How bad can it be?
Two hours later Noah is playing look out while Carl is on the phone pleading, "Uncle Rick you have to stop this. We have not made it to the top level yet. We are in physical danger. The last pair of pants cut off circulation to the boys."
Rick is rolling on the couch gasping for air. "I cannot help you. Why would you agree to this?"
"Rule #2," he shouts.
"Fair enough, if it is not over in the next hour call back," Rick bargains.
"Fine," he disconnects the call.
They are finally on the top floor trying on leather jackets. Michonne and Maggie are having the time of their life.
"I like cognac brown on Noah and the traditional black on Carl," Maggie assesses and gestures for the Boys to turn around.
"I agree, but Carl needs the version with the hoodie, it's his signature look. Noah can pull off the' member only' style," Michonne extends the critique.
A voice rings out from behind Maggie and Michonne. "Look, your mommies are taking you shopping," Negan mocks.
Michonne and Maggie turn slowly and fix the large man-child with any icy glare. "Excuse me?" they respond in chorus.
"Wait, Carl doesn't have a mommy so one of you is a cougar?" his wicked, arrogant tongue spews.
Before anyone can move Carl passes the ladies like lightening. He throws all his weight behind the gut punch he delivers to Negan and the giant crumples. Before he can recover Carl's fist take aim at his jaw and eye. Noah flies in and places his foot on Negan's neck. Carl stands and shakes his hair out of his face. He looks down at Negan, "You will never desecrate the memory of my mother or disrespect the women in my life. Nod your head if you understand," Carl commands.
Negan cannot move much but he nods enough for Noah to remove his foot. "Get your sorry ass up and apologize," Noah directs. Negan uses his hands to push off the floor. Every part of him hurts: his body and pride. He faces the women, "I'm sorry," he mumbles.
Both hands shoot up, "Save it," Maggie snaps.
"You got the beat down you deserved," Michonne spits out with disgust.
Negan retreats holding his gut and face. Maggie moves Noah toward the cashier. Carl is shaking with rage his fist clenched so tight the knuckles are white. Michonne approaches cautiously and places a single hand on his shoulder. He is looking through her. "Let's go see your Uncle Rick," she whispers gently removing the jacket. Maggie agrees to take Noah home and help him explain to his parents.
Michonne speeds through the streets. Carl has not uttered one word; she is not sure he even blinks anymore. She texted Rick from the mall and he is waiting on the porch when they pull into the driveway. Carl exits the car and walks inside the house. Rick descends the steps and stands next to Michonne.
"Anything?" he asks.
"Nothing," she turns to Rick eyes filled with worry, "You can put him back together-right. I want my Guy back."
He embraces her and kisses the top of her head, "Come on," they enter the house.
Sasha looks in the mirror one final time at her 'I'm sorry' outfit. She showered with brown sugar body scrub and rubbed Tahitian vanilla lotion from head to toe. She cuffed the bottom of her faded skinny jeans enough to display the ankles he loves and her toes are painted red. The double scoop of her black t-shirt would give him a glance at her bouncing cleavage and her double strand twist were pulled on top of her head by a single hair tie so her neck was fully exposed. She slides her feet into black leather flip-flops once she hears them enter the house.
"Harry, Gladys is coming over. Show Daryl where the ice cream maker is so he can take it down and make space in the outdoor freezer," Lonette instructs.
"I'll do it Mama," Sasha interjects.
Lonette looks over her daughter's outfit and smirks, "I bet you will." She starts humming 'Midnight Train to Georgia'.
Daryl brings in the last of the bags, "Where do you want the ice?"
"Take it to the garage. Sasha's making space in the freezer," Lonette replies.
Sasha leans over the freezer with her ass in the air. "That should be enough space," she turns to him. His pupils are slightly dilated. He places the bags inside. She is trying to break me. "The ice cream maker is up in the rafters. Will you hold the ladder for me?" He knows it's a bad idea but nods his head yes anyway.
He holds the ladder, staring up at her ass and begging God for strength. She descends and hands him the large, round machine. He places it on the ground and looks up. She has turned to face him while perched on the ladder. She opens her jeans and he steps closer. He places his forehead against her stomach. "Why, dear God why?" he whimpers. She takes his hand and makes him stroke her leather clad mound.
"I'm sorry," she brings his hand around to feel the chain on her waist holding the leather thong together.
"I need air," he walks out to the driveway. She fastens her jeans and enters the house singing, "I'd rather live alone in his world…then live without him…"
The video of the fight went viral. Everyone under the age of twenty years old in Kings' County commented. The Squad was on Skype getting the back story from Sophia.
"How could anyone be that vile?" America wonders rhetorically.
"I'm sorry. I will never be who I was at the library. I will never become that person," Enid whimpers.
"He won't come home and he's not talking and he never deserved anymore bad," Sophia weeps.
Justice stares at her phone waiting. Once she heard the full story she sent a simple text: I need to hold your hand. Her phone chimes with a single address and she disconnects from the group. Her mother drops her off and she rings the bell at a stranger's house.
The door swings open and Rick looks down, "Let me guess-Justice."
"Yes Sir. He needs me and I will not take no for an answer," her eyes fill with fierce determination.
"Here," he hands her the towel and ice packs, "back porch," he points.
Carl is sitting on the steps. He can still taste the bile at the back of his throat and his hands ache. Justice descends the steps and sits between his legs on the step below his. She places his hands in her lap and gently applies the ice packs.
He leans forward and buries his face in her hair and breathes for the first time in hours. They sit together in silence until he speaks. "I have no real memory of what she looked like or how she smelled or what her hugs felt like. All I have is this deep, empty space and no one is allowed there. Not him, the Devil or God himself-its sacred. And he went there with is wretched piss and shit..."his rage filled rant begins to ramp up.
"Shh…it's still sacred. You protected that space and she knows and she is proud. We are all proud of you."
One hour later they enter the house. Michonne is curled up in Rick's lap. Carl walks over and she stands and embraces him, "Is my Guy back?"
"Yeah, thank you," he hugs her back. He turns, "Justice this is Uncle Rick," he introduces.
She extends her hand, "Hi, sorry about earlier," she replies embarrassed about barging into his house.
"Please, no need to apologize. You are welcome anytime," he smiles.
Michonne motions to Justice, "Let's go figure out some food. I understand you make amazing burgers."
Carl takes a seat in the chair and waits. "There is no lesson, nothing left to teach. You made man size choices and you have a good, young woman at your side-you're ready," Rick stands and kisses the top of his head before joining the ladies in the kitchen.
Carl wipes his tears and whispers, "I miss you Mom and Dad."
Harry snores in the recliner and Daryl sleeps sprawled across the couch. Sasha, Lonette and Gladys talk at the table where the remnants of the feast rest. "It was nice having you home," Gladys laments.
"You could come visit Kings' County," Sasha reminds.
"I know y'all have to get on the road so let me say my piece. That is a good man," she points toward the living room. "The kind of man you build a life with. I don't know where his people are but your love and protect what you have," Lonette throws her hands up.
"Yes ma'am. Let me help clean up before we get on the road."
"Chile please, I am putting your daddy to work. For two days he has been eating like his cholesterol ain't bad," she laughs.
Sasha enters the living room and rubs Daryl's belly. He sits up slowly, "Time to get on the road," his sleepy voice states.
"Yeah," she turns, "Daddy we're getting ready to go."
Harry snorts and brings his chair to the upright position. They make their way outside and Daryl loads the car while Sasha says her goodbyes. He approaches the Ladies, "Thank you again. I had a real fine time," he hugs them both.
Lonette squeezes him extra tight, "Promise to come back and see me."
"I promise." He approaches Harry and extends his hand, "It was a pleasure Sir."
Harry places his hand on Daryl's shoulder, "I need you to be safe out there. Do you understand?"
"I do Sir," he nods.
"Alright," he confirms.
They drive to the interstate their hearts filled with new, shared memories.