Growth
Friday
Jolene inspects the Passat wagon eyes squinting in discernment. The previous appointment did not go as planned and the owner of the dealership agreed to deliver the car to Michonne's office the next day. "Did you complete the full engine check beyond the normal twenty-five point standard?"
"Yes ma'am," the lead mechanic responds, "A fifty point certification and we included extra fluids in the trunk per your request: oil, transmission, power steering," she cuts him off.
"Did you replace the donut with a full tire?" she continues.
"Yes ma'am," the sales manager joins the interrogation, "We upgraded the wiper blades; re-detailed the interior with environmentally friendly products."
"Mm-hm…" she hums. "What was the final discount to compensate for sales agent Nicotero not giving the client what she wanted?"
The sales manager replies quickly, "I spoke to the owner of the dealership and we raised the discount another 5%. Again, we apologize for his insistence on ADA Grimes leaving the car lot in a van."
She nods stoically. This worked out better than I expected.
Michonne descends the court steps with one hand protectively under her belly, "It's here," she exclaims approaching the vehicle. "Did you fully inspect the ceramic brakes?" she begins.
"Ma'am, as we explained to your mother-in-law the car is in tip-top shape," the sales manager tries to curb the second interrogation.
Her eyes fix on the man speaking, "I beg your pardon…are you suggesting that the safety of my children is not worthy of a few additional questions? Is that what you heard Grandma?" Michonne encourages her favorite accomplice.
"I do believe that is what I heard as well. Do I need my brick again?" Jolene raises her brow watching the man sweat under the pressure.
Philip Blake and Andrea Harrison sit begrudgingly in the office of the criminal attorney for the final prep session before the plea hearing on Monday. "Philip, your allocution must be contrite. You have one opportunity to get this right; there is no jury…only a judge…the judge that will determine sentencing. Further, the DA confirmed the victim's attendance; the victim that retains the right to take civil action. I cannot emphasize enough that time served, possibility of parole and financial penalty are all at stake."
They nod in understanding both lost in their own despair. "We are still using my wife as a character reference and to provide context for this incident; as well as, the detrimental impact on her life if I am incarcerated?" Philip clarifies.
"Yes, but her testimony offers limited leverage given the video evidence. I doubt her inclusion will be the game change you need," the attorney replies.
Andrea remains quiet. My firm has got to come through for my long term survival.
Saturday
Carol places a platter of cookies in the center of the table waiting for Penelope and Justice to arrive. They have a revised plan for Spring Break and hopefully everyone can agree. She would prefer to accompany the young couple but that would leave Sophia on her own and the Comix Shop closed which she cannot afford. The compromise is reasonable…the compromise demonstrates trust. I can restore our relationship.
Sophia's voice rings out, "Mom's in the kitchen…see me in my room later. Date night fashion struggle," she explains.
Justice, Penelope and Carol greet each other as Carl enters the room. He interrupts, "Are we ready to get started?" his voice is crisp.
"Absolutely," Carol responds eagerly. She sits across from him. He is stone faced his mouth set in a hard line.
Penelope and Justice glance back and forth gauging the tension and hope for the best. "We only want the best for you," Penelope opens the conversation. Carol nods in agreement.
"We do not always get it right the first time but we are trying," Carol smiles awkwardly, "You have our permission with minor adjustments," she turns to her counterpart. Penelope launches into the details of the changes and areas for negotiation.
It's like yesterday…I didn't even know your name…You are a beautiful surprise…You've got me on a natural high…I didn't even have a choice
Michonne lies are her left side listening to Voyage to India humming and writing in the journal:
Hello my Loves, we had a good appointment yesterday except you did not cooperate so we do not know if you are girls, boys, or boys and girls. You still have time to cooperate…especially with the bladder request. I swear I am in the bathroom every hour on the hour. Remember we are a team. I understand-you are stubborn like your father.
She laughs when the bed dips and she feels Rick's full lips on her neck, "What are you doing?"
Rick reads over her shoulder before responding. "May I?" he motions toward the pen in her hand. She hands the pen back to him. He reaches over her body and continues the entry:
This is your father. You are willful just like your mother that means you are probably girls: Michie, Chonnie and Mimi. You can show us when you are ready-I am patient. I want you to give your mama a potty break…she has a big job to do. Oh, she got you a giant red wagon.
"Rick! Don't write that…what if they are boys?" she snatches the pen from his hand while he roars with laughter. He rolls on his back and his bent legs swing through the air.
This is your mother again. Those are not your names. We only care that you are healthy- boys or girls does not matter. We cannot wait for cuddles and kisses. The car is hotness…there is a sun roof and new speakers for car dance parties.
Rick's laughter settles into a wide smile with loving eyes, "I like this song…it sounds like a lullaby." He rubs her belly.
"I listened to the radio on the way home and this was part of the 'Flashback Friday' mix," she offers wistfully.
I believe we are written in the stars…You are inspiration to my life…You are the reason why I smile…You are beautiful surprise.
He changes the subject, "Did I see fried drumsticks and potato salad for dinner?"
She nods and bites her lip, "Are you going to do the thing?" she hints.
"Gorgeous…" he trails off.
"I know…it's wrong but the impression makes us laugh-please," she peeks over her shoulder with an exaggerated pout.
He groans and clears his throat after sitting up, "Grrr…I Captain Walsh…G.I. Don't with kung-fu grip…I have big weapons…marbles rattle when I try to think…freeze jive turkeys…I am dyn-o-mite…grrr," Rick grunts and snarls impersonating Shane's voice; pointing his finger gun at the wall; lifting his fist up and down in a stiff robotic motion.
Michonne rolls back and forth squealing in laughter her pregnant belly shaking. She scoots on her butt toward the edge of the bed giggling, "Now I got a pee," she announces running toward the bathroom.
Rick shakes his head and chuckles. The things I do for their love and happiness.
Sunday
Carl and Noah sit next to each other at Ms. Eva's counter powering through fresh cinnamon rolls and chocolate milk. "You got the green light…that's good," Noah offers.
"I guess," Carl grunts in return.
"Come on Bruh…this is huge for parentals. You, your girl, a sports car, road trip…sharing hotels. Give 'em a break."
"Except for the night in separate dorms at Morehouse and Spelman or staying with her grandma in South Carolina," he pushes back.
"What did you think they were going to say? Please go have wild sex after you tour the quad and library," his lids lower for major side-eye.
"Why does everyone keep bringing up sex?" Carl responds in exasperation.
"Why do you keep acting like it is not part of the equation? Wait," Noah trails off. "Have you two," he doesn't finish the question.
Carl shakes his head, "We aren't there yet," he whispers. "What about you?" He does not look over to his best friend.
"Nah, but I am not sure how much longer…prom is coming."
"I guess," returning the conversation to what is really bothering him. "It was the control thing. Taking my insurance-really…I do everything I am suppose to do most of the time."
"I feel you. Just don't let her stuff overshadow your positive. Remember when we couldn't even speak to them. We got some serious glow up happening here," he moves to lighten the mood.
"True. I would be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to really tucking her in at night. I have thoughts on what she wears with all those pajama tanks," he smiles devilishly.
Lori sits at her desk with a stack of dusty yearbooks at her side. She flips through the aged pages reviewing the names and pictures of old classmates and casual acquaintances; names and faces she barely remembers. Methodically she sends friend requests to those she use to rule: most spirited; best smile; best dressed. Her heart rate increases when she flips the page to a picture of her and Rick from sophomore year: 'Cutest Couple'. Her fingers trail over the younger version of them. What should have been?
After one hour of reaching out and less than successful results she picks up a frayed newspaper clipping to mark the page. Her eyes harden. The Grimes' engagement photo sets her blood ablaze. The 5-carat engagement ring was her precious; anything smaller was unacceptable. She still had not conjured up the right words or actions to get Shane on one knee with the right ring but it was only a matter of time. I will win.
AN: The ridiculousness of the infomercial will pop up from time to time. Let's just say the foolishness left an impression with everyone within in the community.