Chapter Five
"The Answer"
The early morning sun bled a washed-out red over the land outside the helicopter Judith stared out of, and it looked like the miles of clustered buildings were on fire. She'd read about skyscrapers in the books she borrowed from the library, but the pictures didn't do them justice. How in the world had people been able to build something so high?
"What do you think?"
Judith glanced at her smiling mom. "Like nothing I've ever seen." Her first time in the sky, her stomach dropped to her tennies when the plane lifted off the ground. The uneasy feeling hadn't stayed for long though; fear morphed quickly into amazement when she'd gotten a first glimpse of the part of the world that had been off-limits to her for so long.
She turned back to the window. The plane hovered past the city of Philadelphia, over a small body of water, and then what looked like a military complex, before it lowered onto a long stretch of pavement and a strain of seatbelts unclicking sounded in the cabin. She faced forward and undid hers.
"Alright, students." Her teacher, Mrs. Yonkers—a stout and stern lady who today wore a fanny pack and neon visor—went to stand at the head of the cabin in front of the open-door cockpit. "Can we give a hand to our pilots?" She stepped out of the way, leading in applause.
Judith's dad and Aunt El popped their heads into the opening and gave her and her clapping classmates a smile and wave. He winked at Judith before ducking away.
Mrs. Yonkers stepped back to the center. "As you exit the plane, I will tell you which bus you are assigned to. This will be the bus you will stay on for the rest of the field trip. I do not want to see anyone trying to switch buses. Understood?"
Judith nodded along with her classmates. "Yes, Mrs. Yonkers," they said in unison.
"Chaperones." Mrs. Yonkers made steely eye contact with Judith's mom and the other adults on the plane. "Make sure to do a headcount before the bus leaves from the airstrip and at each location. Every student must be accounted for before we can depart." Mrs. Yonkers clasped her hands and rocked on her heels. She looked as giddy as Judith felt. "Alright, let's go."
Judith filed out of the plane alongside her mom. She spotted the yellow buses and the armed Commonwealth soldiers who stood guard beside each one. They'd flown in a separate helicopter, piloted by Lucas.
"Hey," Judith heard her dad call from behind.
She and her mom stopped and turned to find him jogging toward them, wearing the uniform the Commonwealth had issued special for their pilots—black cargo pants, a black jacket with the blue and red Commonwealth logo embroidered on the breast, and aviators.
"Hey, Dad!"
He slid his arm around her shoulder. "How'd you like it in the air, sweetheart?"
Judith looked up at him. "It was so cool and a smooth ride." She patted his back. "Good job."
"Hey, what about me?" Aunt El asked, strolling up to them as she slid her aviators on. "I did all the work. Your daddy here could have taken a nap and nothing woulda happened."
Dad shook his head, with a small smile on his face.
Judith giggled and covered her mouth. Over the past two months, Aunt El had been coming around more, and now Judith couldn't envision a version of her life without her mom's sister in it, and not just because her aunt constantly giving her dad a hard time amused Judith to no end. Aunt El was the coolest person Judith had ever met, second only to her mom. Which made sense to Judith, they were sisters after all.
"On the bus everyone!" Mrs. Yonkers shouted.
"We better get going," Judith said.
Dad kissed the top of her head. "Have fun. I'll see you both at the play." He moved toward Mom and kissed her lips, lingering there to stare at her so intently it looked like they were having a conversation with just their eyes.
They'd been that way since getting home, extra lovey-dovey. RJ found it gross, but Judith didn't mind. Mom had been alone and lonely for years, it was nice to see her be loved. And secretly, Judith hoped one day to find someone who looked at her the way her dad looked at her mom.
"Alright you two," Aunt El interrupted. "We're in public. Reign it in, please."
Mom rolled her eyes away from Dad and gave her sister an annoyed look, but got distracted, and glanced back at Dad. "Wait, did you say you're not coming on the tour?"
"No. El and I gotta do the refuel." He scratched at the back of his neck. "And we got some things to take care of after that." He glanced at Aunt El.
"Right," she said. "For the flight school."
Dad looked at Mom like he was trying to figure out whether or not she bought the story.
And of course, Mom didn't; her spidey senses had heightened since getting pregnant, which was bad news for Judith and RJ—they couldn't get away with anything. Her mom's eyes narrowed and she stared at Dad momentarily. "Okay..." she said, with a curious strain in her voice.
Judith would have been curious too, if her dad hadn't already told her of his plans.
An hour later, Judith stood among classmates crowded around the roped-off Liberty Bell, feeling overwhelmed. They'd just been escorted through Independence Hall, where, she'd learned in school, the Declaration of Independence had been debated and ratified.
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness. Her eyes trailed over the bronze of the bell, the Declaration's words floating through her head. She wanted so badly to touch the bell. To put her hand on a piece of the history that never ceased to fascinate her.
"Why's it got a crack in it?" A kid in her class asked their tour guide for the day—one of the Civic Republic's history teachers.
Their tour guide opened his mouth to answer, but Mrs. Yonkers cut him off. "If you'd been listening instead of making paper airplanes in class you'd know the answer to that, Theodore," she reprimanded.
Judith's mom leaned down and whispered, "Oh, she's tough."
"You have no idea," Judith said.
"Class, can anyone enlighten Theo as to why there is a crack in the bell?" Mrs. Yonkers asked.
Hands shot up all around, but Judith kept hers at her side, and when Mrs. Yonkers' eye skipped over the others and landed on hers, she looked away.
"Judith."
She cringed at the sound of her name. My hand wasn't even up!
"Please share with the class."
Judith sighed inwardly and glanced at the annoyed looks thrown her way, by the group of girls—Brynn, Taylor, and Destiny—standing with crossed arms and scowls on the other side of the bell. "There's no proof of when exactly it was cracked," she mumbled. "But it's believed to have happened, in 1846, because of wear and tear."
"As per usual you are correct!" Mrs. Yonkers beamed at her, then frowned at Theo. "You hear that Theodore?"
He shrunk back, nodding.
Judith glanced at the girls again. "Know it all," Brynn, the red-haired ringleader mouthed, glaring at her.
"What the hell was that?" her mom said.
Judith whipped her gaze up to her mom, who was watching the girls. "What?" Had she seen that?
"Are those girls giving you a hard time?" Her mom asked, concerned.
"No, it's not... like that," Judith sputtered. "It's fine?"
Her mom stared at her; Judith could see her spidey senses going crazy. "If it's not… you can tell me."
"Alright, class. Time to move on." Saved by Mrs. Yonkers.
"Come on, we don't wanna get left behind," Judith said walking away, hoping her mom wouldn't make this a thing.
Rick pierced the blade of his steel fist knife into the skull of the walker in front of him and watched its body drop to the sand.
"Damn. Can I get one of those?"
He looked at Elodie, who stood staring at his steel arm. "Trust me, you don't wanna do what it takes to need one of these." He retracted the knife, bent down, and slid his arms beneath the walker's back. "Help me with this one?"
Elodie bent to take its legs and they carried it off the beach, through a sanded alleyway between two of the houses in the row, to the front driveway, where a pile of stacked dead lay burning on the pavement of the street.
"That's the last of it," he said, wiping the walker blood off on his pants.
He stared down the street of the ghost town: the strip of beachfront homes making up the tiny and secluded oceanside mini subdivision.
When Rick had found the beach property in a home development brochure, among the maps the Commonwealth's land acquisition department collected to research for expansion, he'd known it would be perfect. The Sinola Beachfront Residences, tucked away on what had to have been the wealthy side of Lewes Beach in Delaware, had been a planned vacation community for the rich, consisting of four oceanfront mansions that had been newly minted just before the start.
On their way to the Civic Republic for a supply run, a month ago, was when Rick and Elodie had first come to check it out. The turnoff to get to the neighborhood was shaded by shrubbery; only people who already knew it existed would have been able to find it. So there'd only been a few straggling walkers wandering the streets, the beach, and inside of the house.
Rick and Elodie had made plans to take care of them when they returned with what they needed to spruce up the interior of the more understated, but still remarkable beach house—with the best view of the tide—which Rick had chosen out of the bunch for his and Michonne's honeymoon.
He walked into the house, carrying the last bag of supplies, and spotted Elodie in the expansive kitchen, wearing yellow cleaning gloves as she tidied up the granite island, spanning the length of the kitchen, that was littered with plates and cups of decade-long molding food and drink the owners hadn't seen fit to clean up in their haste to get out. The whole house seemed to be frozen in the moment right before the owners had split: lined up shoes by the door, DVDs spread out on the coffee table, the beds half made, and the clothes spewing out of the dresser drawers was a sure sign they'd packed and fled in a hurry.
"A place like this," Rick said, setting the plastic bags in his hand on the dining table right beside the kitchen. "Cut off from the world. You'd think they'd stick around."
"They may have in the beginning," Elodie said, picking up a cup with maggots crawling out. "Gross." She tossed it into the trash bin. "But everyone realized real quick, you can't survive on your own." She mumbled, "I sure did."
Rick grunted his agreement. Until the Civic Republic, he'd never not had a community. He'd woken up and had been dropped right into a group of people depending on him and him on them. "Where were you when it all started?" he asked, unpacking buckets of paint and brushes. All Michonne had told him about Elodie's life before was that she'd had a family who hadn't made it.
Elodie paused a beat and Rick instantly felt terrible for bringing it up. He was about to retract the question, but Elodie answered.
"I was... at home." She went back to cleaning. "Alone. It was crazy how fast it all happened. One minute things were normal and the next the sky was falling." She stared at the granite, then glanced back at him. "What about you?"
"A coma."
"I'm sorry... what?" Elodie turned to face him and leaned her hand on the counter.
"A few weeks before everything happened, I got shot."
She gave him a curious look.
"I was a sheriff," he said, in answer to it.
"That tracks."
He wasn't sure whether or not to be offended. "Woke up to a world I didn't recognize."
"How soon did you find Michonne?"
"A year." He chuckled. "Scared the hell out of me when she walked up to the fence of the place we were holed up in. But it was strange. I got this overwhelming feeling she was the answer... to everything going wrong in my life at the time—to questions I didn't even know to ask yet."
"Damn, that's good stuff. You should put that in your vows."
"Yeah, when I get around to writing them," he murmured.
"Dude, your wedding is in a week," she said point-blankly.
"I know... Not great with words."
"What you just said sounded okay. Just—you know, figure out how to say more of that." She waved her hand. "You'll be aight."
"Right, okay." She made it sound easier than it was. His relationship with Michonne was unlike any other he'd had. Their love had been tried in the fire, and though all they'd been through would have broken most couples, it'd only strengthened them to the point where the intensity of his feelings for her scared him sometimes. He could admit that he didn't say enough, out loud, what she meant to him. If only because nothing he ever came up with said it right. Having to write out an entire speech about what she meant to him caused more worry than it should.
The afternoon dawned, glaringly bright for an early winter day. Michonne was behind a table on the lawn of Independence Hall, handing out pre-packaged sandwiches and veggie bags to the line of Judith's classmates, as Mrs. Yonkers had assigned her. She was a great multitasker, thank goodness because her eyes hadn't left her daughter, who sat alone on the lawn.
Judith had grabbed her lunch and walked toward her classmates, seated on the lawn with the three girls Michonne had caught blatantly disrespecting her baby holding court, only to wander off alone when the red-haired one gave Judith another dirty look—making it clear she wasn't welcome.
Michonne had wanted to march over there and understand why they were treating her sweet, kind, and precious baby like that. But Judith had made it clear she didn't want her mom intervening.
"Michonne," said a deep voice, right as the last student left with their lunch.
She looked up to find Lucas walking toward her. "Hey."
"Know where I can find the brownies?" he asked, standing in front of her table. "I'm supposed to hand them out to the class." He leaned toward her and said in hushed tones, "Yonkers is no joke."
"Right?!" She grabbed the brownie squares baggie from beneath the table and handed them to him. "You really didn't have to volunteer to chaperone. But I'm glad you did."
"It's no problem. And I never got a chance to take the tour when I lived here, so…" he trailed off.
"You didn't have any friends you wanted to visit while you were here? It's been a while since you've been back, right?"
A shadow crossed his face. "At this point, the Commonwealth feels more like home than this place ever did."
Michonne smiled. "My sister have anything to do with that?"
Lucas' cheeks shaded red and he snorted a chuckle. "She's a pleasant surprise."
"I can honestly say no one has ever described Elodie that way."
He laughed.
"But I'm glad that you are…" She did air quotes. "Friends."
"I've never been so okay with being friend-zoned."
They shared a laugh.
"Hey, have any idea what she and Rick are up to?" The two had been whispering for weeks and deviating from their normal schedules. It smelled like collusion, but she wasn't sure what for.
"Up to?" Lucas said, his eyebrows jutting high. "Why—why would you think they're up to something? And if they were, I wouldn't know anything about it."
Okay, so, Lucas was for sure in on it. "Anyone ever tell you you're a horrible liar?"
"A few have, yeah." He deflated and his eyebrows turned down toward each other. "So, please don't ask me anything else."
"You're off the hook."
"Lucas."
He looked just past her and the lightness on his face faded completely.
Michonne glanced over her shoulder. An irritated-looking black man, in a CRM uniform, stood a few yards away, glaring at Lucas. "Whose that?"
Lucas stared at him, with a haunted look. "Nobody." He dragged his eyes away from him and held out the bag of brownies. "Will you hand these out for me?" He eyed the guy. "I gotta—I'll be right back," he said walking away.
Michonne handed out the desserts and when she arrived at the trio of mean girls, she slid her hand under her sizable, six-month belly and squatted to eye contact with them. "Hey girls," she said, handing them each a brownie.
They stared at her, unbothered and with the kernels of an attitude.
"I'm Mrs. Grimes. Judith's mother," she said in a polite tone. "I thought I'd introduce myself because. I... saw you girls earlier and I thought it would be courteous, to let you know that I saw... that I see you."
As they processed her words their eyes blew wider.
"Got it?"
They nodded.
"Good. Enjoy the rest of your lunch." She pushed off the ground and ambled toward a cringing Judith, who'd been watching. "Can I sit?"
"What'd you say to them?" Judith asked, worried.
Michonne braced her hand against her back and lowered onto the grass. She groaned on the way down, the day and her annoyance catching up. Dr. Clayborne hadn't been playing; middle-age pregnancy was no joke. When she managed to sit and cross her legs, Michonne handed Judith a brownie. "Eat this while you explain to me what those girls' beef with you is."
Judith sighed and tore open the plastic. She took a tiny bite and chewed for a long time. "At school, it's always about what your parents do," she explained. "The most popular kids have parents with cool or important jobs. Brynn's dad is one of the lead scientists. Taylor's mom is a surgeon. And both of Destiny's parents are on the council."
And Judith hadn't had any parents, as far as the kids at school had known, which meant she'd landed low on the totem pole. But she and Rick were back now, that should have changed things for their daughter—not that Michonne condoned the popularity contest that didn't even have the courtesy of being based on anything the kids could control.
Judith had been shot, defending the Commonwealth, for Christ's sake! That should have won her infinite cool points. What more did a kid have to do? It was absurd and trying to apply logic to the ridiculousness was making Michonne's head hurt. "So, just to get this straight—you mean to tell me those girls are icing you out because your dad and I? Because they don't think you're good enough," she asked, trying her damndest to understand.
"No, that's not it."
"I'm gonna need you to explain."
"No one cared either way when I first got here. I made a few friends—at least I thought they were. But when you and Dad got home, and word spread about what you did here and how important you were in the community, other people started wanting to be friends with me. And I guess Brynn and the others got jealous. So they started telling people that..." Judith hesitated. "That you weren't my real parents and that you adopted me, not because you wanted to. They made it sound like I was a charity case."
Michonne's blood boiled. "That is not okay."
"But people believed them. And they didn't see me the same way. And it doesn't help that Mrs. Yonkers treats me special because she knows I'm your kid. Now they all just think I'm a suck-up."
"I don't like this. We need to take care of it."
"No. It doesn't matter," Judith said, defiantly. "I know what they're saying is not true. And if the people I thought were my friends can be swayed so easily, then they're not people I want to spend time with."
Judith had taught Michonne a few things about community and reaching out to those in need. But at her core, her little girl was an independent soul, just like her mom. She hadn't raised her that way on purpose, but after watching Michonne tackle things on her own for so long, she must have decided that was how to be.
Michonne ran her hand down Judith's arm to take her hand. "I don't like you being alone."
"I'm not. I have Gracie."
But she only got to see Gracie every couple weeks, when Aaron would bring her down for a weekend stay. "Sweetheart..."
"I'm fine, mom. I am. They're the ones who are missing out, not me." Judith gave her a small smile.
Michonne just stared at her, unable to return it, because she wasn't fine with it and it wasn't in her to just let something like this go.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Lucas grabbed Darius' arm and steered him away from the lawn to stand beside the concrete wall of Independence Hall. The man, who stood a foot taller and was strong as an ox, was not someone to be manhandled, but Lucas' fear of what Darius seeking him out meant, emboldened him.
"Man, get off me." Darius shook away Lucas' hand. "You got nerve, bro. Questioning me, when we ain't heard from you since you got there."
"I radioed Van," he said, impatiently. "I told him the plan was done."
"How you gonna back out of a plan you set in motion? You brought all of us into this. Told us this was how we make things right. And now you wanna pussyfoot around like we don't got no stake in it." He jutted his finger into Lucas's chest. "You ain't the only one who lost someone that day. I lost what was left of my family."
"I get that, you know I do. But this isn't the way."
"Wasn't what you was saying before."
"There was shit I didn't know before I got there... it changed things for me."
Darius spread his arms out wide. "Go ahead and share with the class, bro."
Lucas couldn't. He couldn't tell Darius about his time in the Commonwealth. The guy'd just use it against him to make the others think he'd been compromised, which he was, and thank God he'd allowed himself to be or he would have made the worst mistake of his life.
He needed to put a definitive end to this. "Rick and Michonne are not the enemy. And this is over," he said, with finality. "You tell them I'm out. And if anyone tries anything, I will personally make sure that they pay." Well, so much for not showing you're compromised.
"Hmm... I get it now." Darius backed away, shaking his head. "See you around Lucas."
Rick had spent the morning tackling odd repair jobs around the beach house—the best he knew how. Fixing the fireplace, plastering a leak in the ceiling, hooking up the portable generator, touching up the paint where it needed it, and checking for mold. All while Elodie had been sprucing the place up and making it homey.
It was early afternoon when he finished his tasks and began his final walkthrough of the house. Elodie had come through.
Rick was impressed by how much she'd been able to get done in such a short amount of time. No one would have been able to tell that just hours earlier the house had been a luxury rat's nest.
He walked into the spotless bedroom. Only the most well-preserved coastal decor remained, but everything else was what they'd brought with them from home: fresh sheets and comforter on the bed, towels, and robes folded neatly on the ensuite bathroom counter, and unlit candles situated all over both rooms.
And then there were the things he didn't recognize: The jar of homemade chocolate on the nightstand on his side of the bed, a record player with a Marvin Gay album beside it, and when he slid open the dresser drawer he saw neatly folded stacks of swimwear and lingerie for Michonne. He didn't mind that, but the other stuff—knowing that Elodie had been the one to go out and find it—made his cheeks warm.
Rick walked to the floor-to-ceiling sliding glass window that led out to a balcony and his heart about fluttered right out of his chest at the thought of Michonne standing at the railing with him, watching the sun rise and set.
He walked down the stairs, as Elodie was packing up in the kitchen.
She stopped and rubbed her palm across her forehead, sighing deeply. Her shoulders slumped. Rick couldn't see Elodie's face, with her back to him, but he knew her well enough to not need to. He slowed his steps, to give her an extra minute alone, before hustling the rest of the way, his loud footsteps making him known.
Elodie straightened and went back to packing up.
"Upstairs looks incredible," he said. "Thanks. Couldn'ta pulled this off without you." He grabbed his duffle bag off the counter.
Elodie nodded and kept her back to him. "Wish I could see her face when she sees it all," she said, with a quiver in her voice.
"Hey, El," he said gently.
"Hmm?" she murmured.
"You alright?"
She took a moment, before facing him. Her eyes were red and watery. "My mom and dad used to rent a beach house every summer when we were little. I was just looking out the window at the water and it brought back so many memories. And I thought about mom and how... soon, that's all I'll have of her."
"We don't know that." He swallowed the tiny lump in his throat before it could grow larger.
"The other day she forgot my name, Rick. It doesn't get better from here."
Hard as he tried not to, Rick had also noticed the little changes in Dorothy. The spark in her eyes was beginning to dim and he sensed despair in her. Being in a place where he'd felt it, made it easier to recognize it in others. She did her best to keep up a hopeful front, but she knew what they all knew by now: their time with her was growing shorter and shorter every day.
"You know, Michonne told me something I haven't been able to forget." He walked around the counter and sat on the arm of the couch. "I didn't wanna leave Philadelphia when she found me. I was terrified of being with her again because I knew that one day I might lose her without there being hope of getting her back."
Elodie watched him intently.
"She told me that the way we make sense of everything we've been through is to love on each other as hard as we can, while we can."
Elodie sniffed and wiped at her eyes. "That sounds like her."
"And there are still days where it gets to me. But I can tell you from experience that what she said works. Dorothy's still here, she's still her. So there's still time for you to do that. For all of us to. We make more memories, for us to hold on to when that's all we have left."
"Didn't know you were so wise."
"Yeah, well, don't have all this gray for nothing."
She blew out a breath. "Okay, we gotta go."
"Yeah." Rick slung his backpack on. "Before Michonne gets suspicious."
"That ship has sailed."
He paused. "What?"
"Michonne's a super sleuth." She stared at him, dumbfounded. "She found you, didn't she? Plus a woman's intuition is never stronger than during pregnancy. Trust me, she didn't believe that little story you gave her this morning." She walked away nonchalantly like she hadn't just crushed his dream of surprising Michonne.
Rick and Elodie landed at the Civic Republic late afternoon and hurried through the city to the school theater, late for the day's main attraction: A performance of Our Town by the high school drama club.
They slipped into the dark theater, packed to capacity. Elodie's eyes scanned the hundreds seated and she spotted Michonne and Lucas, sitting at the end of a row in the center of the auditorium, with Judith between them and two empty seats on either side.
Elodie nudged Rick. "Over there." She led the way down the aisle.
Her sister, entranced by the performance, didn't notice them standing beside her row, so Elodie tapped on her shoulder.
Michonne startled. "Oh. Hey," she whispered and swung her knees to the side to make way for Elodie to pass and shuffle to the empty seat beside Lucas.
"Hi," she said in hushed tones and a little breathless. All day, she'd been itching to see this man—admit it, your man. No.
"Hey," Lucas said with a quick nod in her direction before turning back to the stage.
While getting the beach house ready, she'd thought about him more than she was comfortable admitting. But that wasn't news; the space that man—your man. Ugh. The space Lucas occupied in her brain on the daily was absurd. She'd be going about her day, just living, and BAM. The image of his face across from her in bed would pop into her mind's view. Or she'd be eating something tasty in the university cafeteria and think, Lucas would like this. And before she knew it, she was making a to-go plate to bring him.
It'd happened more than once, but Lucas had yet to receive any to-go meals. Elodie would chicken out on the giving it to him part every time. That was girlfriend shit and she wouldn't cross that line. But did the fact that she wanted to do that stuff mean she was catching feelings?
Elodie shifted her gaze toward the stage and tried hard to focus on the performance, but the body heat emanating from his arm onto hers on the armrest they shared, was too damn distracting. Keeping her gaze trained ahead, Elodie inched her hand over and rested it on his.
She smiled at the feel of their hands clasped. The public display, cloaked by the theater's darkness, felt dangerous. Sexy. Elodie smiled as she pushed her fingers between the crevices of his and squeezed his hand.
A second later, the smile swept off her face, when Lucas retracted his hand from beneath hers, leaving hers limp on the armrest. She glanced over at him.
He looked straight ahead, with a tight jaw and unnerving stare she hadn't noticed before.
Elodie leaned toward him. "You okay?"
After a beat and still not looking at her, he gave a curt, "Fine." His tone was cold and slightly annoyed.
What in the hell was this? They'd been together the night before, had cuddled and parted with a passionate kiss before reporting separately to the airstrip. What could have happened in the nine hours since they had been apart that day that could have made him this icy toward her?
That question bounced around her brain for the duration of the play; Elodie couldn't recall a single word that'd been uttered on that stage. And it pissed her off. Her first taste of culture—albeit, amateur—since the world had gone to shit, and she was too busy brooding about a man to take it in?
The lights coming back on for the final bows caught her off guard.
Lucas shot up and excused himself from the aisle, mumbling about getting the plane ready to head back.
Elodie hesitated. Every fiber of her being yelled at her not to move. You will NOT go after this man. She'd never been the clingy chick begging for crumbs of affirmation from her man. She refused to let herself start now.
And besides, Lucas. WAS. NOT. HER. MAN.
Who are you kidding? She wasn't catching feelings, they'd already been caught.
Elodie pushed up from her seat and pushed past Judith, Michonne, and Rick. "I'll meet you at the plane," she said, jogging after him.
"Okay," Rick said, leaning toward Michonne as the applause died. "What the hell is going on between those two." Overnight, Elodie had gone from barely acknowledging Lucas' existence to voluntarily sitting in on his lectures and laughing at jokes that weren't the least bit funny. Though much hadn't changed in the way of Lucas; he was still a puppy dog when it came to Elodie. But unlike before, she seemed interested now...
Michonne slowly turned her head toward him and narrowed her eyes. "I'll tell you that when you tell me what you're up to."
Dammit, Elodie had been right.
He shook his head at Michonne, before turning to face forward. "I guess I'll just mind my business then."
"Right," he heard her say.
"Weren't they just wonderful?" Major General Chopra was dressed down in jeans and a white collared button-up. He walked on stage with a microphone to stand in front of the lined-up cast. "Phenomenal." He bowed his head at them, cueing them to walk off stage leaving him alone in the spotlight.
"As our citizens know," he went on to say to the crowd. "Over the past six months, the Civic Republic has made strides to reach out to our neighboring survivors and communities. And today, the schools of twelve thriving communities in this region are represented."
Rick had had a hand in coordinating the effort to get kids and chaperones bussed and flown in from communities all over, to the Civic Republic. They'd all spent the morning touring the city and historical sights. But what all this meant, hadn't hit him until this moment. Looking out across the auditorium, it was hard to tell where one community began and another ended. It was a display of a greater achievement: people who'd survived the unimaginable finally coming to a place where they weren't each other's biggest enemies anymore.
Rick took Michonne's hand and they exchanged a knowing look.
"And we will not stop building bridges and reaching out our hands to help until we are again one nation."
The crowd roared.
Chopra stood smiling and allowed the cheering for a moment before quieting them. "One of the ways that we are doing this is by investing in students across communities who have shown aptitude and dedication in their studies." Chopra motioned at someone off-stage, and a line of men and women walked out. "I am proud to announce that the Civic Republic will host its inaugural summer apprenticeship camp, where experts in their field will spend eight weeks training eighteen students—three from each upper grade level—from communities all over the region." He presented the line of men and women standing beside him. "We have a scientist. A doctor. An Artist. A chef. A thespian." He placed his hand on his chest. "And of course, yours truly."
Murmurs of surprise rolled through the auditorium.
"Shall we announce the participants?"
The crowd cheered.
Rick looked at Michonne. "I thought you weren't announcing until spring," he said. This program had been Michonne's brainchild; time off from work had given her latitude to dream. Rick would come home from work and she'd have ten new ideas to bounce off of him, about how to make the Commonwealth better or bridge the divide between the CR and Commonwealth and all the newly discovered communities. He'd thought all her ideas were genius and so had Chopra, who now stopped over once a week with his wife—Anaisha—for dinner, to scheme about how to execute Michonne's plans. It was crazy how alike Michonne and Anaisha were and the older woman had made it her mission to champion Michonne's ideas with her fellow Civic Republic council members.
"I thought since we were all here... there was no better time," Michonne said. "And—" She glanced at their daughter, who sat on the edge of her seat. "She needed this today. So I pulled a few strings."
Rick wasn't sure what that meant, but when it came to their kids, he'd never again questioned Michonne. "Okay..."
"Students chosen for the program have been carefully selected by their teachers and leaders of their communities not just because of their aptitude, but also their character," Chopra said.
Rick glanced over at Judith, his not-so-little girl. Though Michonne had had a hand in the program's inception and Rick had more sway with the Civic Republic than anyone at the Commonwealth, they had left the decision of who'd go to the Apprentice Camp up to the Academy teachers and the council. But damn if he hadn't been bursting with pride when he'd seen Judith's name was one of three on the list of kids chosen from her grade—out of the seventy-five.
He and Michonne had had some heated discussions about whether or not to allow their twelve—almost thirteen-year-old—to spend an entire eight weeks in another state. She'd been for it and he'd been against it. But slowly, he'd come around to Michonne's reasoning: Major General Chopra was a good man, with a good wife who took no shit. They were people to be trusted, they'd proven that. And Judith wouldn't be going alone.
One teacher from each community would serve as a counselor to the campers all summer, watching after the kids in the downtime when they weren't apprenticing, and facilitating the fun. It was practical but also gave an extra layer of peace of mind to the parents of the kids attending.
"The three students from grade seven who will be apprentices this summer are... Max Drake from the Jonestown Community."
The upper right section of the auditorium cheered when a tall boy with glasses popped up pounding his fist.
"Come on down," Chopra said.
Max pushed out of the aisle and jogged to the stage as the crowd cheered him on.
"The next student who will be joining us comes from the Oceanside Community. Come on down, Maya Knox."
Rick heard a loud whooping amidst the cheers from the group seated at the front left of the auditorium, and he wasn't at all surprised to see it was coming from a much older Rachel. His heart warmed when he spotted Cyndie seated beside her.
"Alright," Chopra said. "Last, but not least…"
Rick sat and tightened his grip on Michonne's hand. They both turned their
attention to their daughter, who sat with her head bowed in her clasped hands and looked like she was praying.
"From the Commonwealth Community…"
God, he wished he had a camera.
"Judith Grimes!" Chopra said.
The Commonwealth section of students and chaperones burst into raucous applause.
And as if she was operating on a delay, Judith stayed frozen in the praying position, before she whipped her head up and looked around, in disbelief. Her gaze went to her mom.
"You better go!" Michonne, watery-eyed, yelled over the cheers.
Then Judith's eyes settled on Rick.
"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart," he said, choking back tears for the second time that day.
Judith rose slowly and squeezed her parent's hands as she passed them. He could tell she was trying not to cry.
"Hey!" Elodie yelled at Lucas, jogging down the theater steps.
Lucas picked up his speed, fast walking toward the rows of yellow school buses and CRM humvees waiting to escort the kids back to the airstrip.
She sprinted to catch up with him, and grabbed his arm, pulling him around to face her.
"What?" he snapped.
She reeled back and stared at his face. Kindness was all she'd ever seen on it; only the softness of smiles and laughter. The flared nostrils and sharp line of his clenched tight face made him almost unrecognizable to her. "What is the matter with you?"
Lucas stepped back and wiped his hands over his face. "I'm sorry."
"For what?"
He looked at her so hard, like he was trying to look right through her. "I'm not who you..." He swallowed and shook his head. "I had a lot of time to think today and I... don't think this—" He waved his hand between them. "Is right for me anymore."
Elodie stared at him, trying to wrap her head around the fact she was being dumped for the first time, by a guy she wasn't even dating.
"I think I thought I could change your mind." He scoffed at his own logic. "Make you want more, but it's clear you don't." All the anger on his face melted away. "And if we continue down this path I... I'm gonna fall in love with you," he admitted. Lucas had never been anything short of honest since Elodie met him, but she wished he'd have kept this to himself. "And just like you need to protect yourself, so do I." He took a step toward her. "Unless you can tell me, right here and right now, that we can be more than what we are..." He studied her face.
Her mind filtered through excuses she'd made for herself about why she couldn't be with Lucas, her brain shooting down every lie.
They worked together; it'd be inappropriate.
Rick wouldn't give a shit—try again.
They were from two different worlds.
Since when does that matter anymore—do better.
She couldn't risk losing another love.
Her brain was silent and had no comeback for that. Loving someone when the world had been like it was before had been a risk, but in this world, it was masochism.
But what about what Rick said today, about choosing to love each other while you can?
That was all fine and good for him. Rick had long since loved her sister, but if he'd had the chance never to love her in the first place—knowing what it felt like to lose her—maybe he would have chosen differently.
Elodie knew intimately what it felt like to lose someone you loved so much you couldn't breathe. Lucas was giving her a way out; she had to take it. "You're right," she said, with a definitive tone. "We should quit while we're ahead."
Lucas looked dismayed like he'd expected her to answer differently. He nodded and walked away.
Elodie watched him go and waited until the humvee he hopped inside disappeared before she let the well of tears fall.
One Week Later
"Who knew a wedding planned by a twelve-year-old, would be so meticulously thought out." Elodie leaned on the counter beside Michonne and stole a veggie she was cutting.
Michonne glanced up. The living room was crowded with boxes filled with decorations for the ceremony and reception. Judith and Gracie ordered Rick and Aaron around, telling them where to take them.
"Well, look at the twelve-year-old who's planning it." Michonne swatted her sister's hand away when she tried to grab for another piece. "Do some real work and you'll get snacks too."
"No question where she gets her bossy from." Elodie snatched another and bolted into the living room. "Alright, Judes, put me to work," she said, standing before the girls.
"I need you to pick up Mom's dress from Mrs. Tina's house. She was tailoring the hem," Judith said, all business. "I told her someone would be by before end of day."
"End of day—look at you sounding all official."
Judith's face didn't break. "Can you get this done?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Great." Judith lifted her clipboard and checked it off her list. Her head whipped to the side, as if sensing a mistake in progress. "No, not those Daddy. Those don't go," she said, to Rick, who was mid-bend picking up a stack of boxes.
He stood up, set his hand on his hip, and motioned at the boxes. "I thought—"
"The ones in my room," she said, with a slight annoyance that told Michonne this wasn't the first time she'd told him.
"Oh, alright." He did an about-face and hurried toward the stairs.
"Mom!" RJ's cry came from her mother's room.
Michonne dropped the knife and Rick froze on the stairs. She took off and holding her belly ran the short distance to the bedroom, Rick on her tail. When she pushed into the room, it took her and Rick a split second to process the scene, before they split off. Rick ran to grab RJ who was crouched in the corner of the room shielding himself from the chess pieces Michonne's mother threw at him. And Michonne hurried toward her mother and gently grabbed her wrists before she could throw the piece in her hands. "Mom. Stop."
"Oh, Michonne!" Her mother leaned around her. "That boy broke into our house. He's tryna steal from us."
"No. That's—that's RJ. He's my son. He's your grandson."
She looked at her cross. "You don't have no babies," she said with conviction, then her gaze slipped past Michonne and she looked increasingly frightened. "Who is that man?"
Michonne glanced over her shoulder and saw it was Rick, who held a trembling RJ, to his chest. "That's Rick, mom. My husband."
Her mother tilted her head at Michonne, the fear on her face shifting to hurt. "Why are you telling lies to me?"
"I'm sorry," she said, remembering what her mother's doctors had told them about helping her through a time-shift episode. But at the time, Michonne had thought they were further away from it happening. "I didn't want to scare you. But—but they're not here to hurt you. Or steal from you. They're safe people."
Her mother looked past her and stared at Rick and RJ for a moment before she dropped the chess piece. "Where's Freeman? I don't feel so good. I—I just need him."
Michonne hesitated. "You know, I'm not sure," she said cheerfully, hating to lie to her mother, but it's what she'd been told to do. "Why don't we get you in bed? It's probably best if you lie down while you wait."
"Yeah… Oh—okay." Her mother suddenly looked around. "But I want to sleep in my room." Her eyes watered. "I wanna go home."
Michonne took her mother's trembling hand and caressed her thumb over the wrinkled skin. "Okay, we'll go soon. But for now, this bed is comfortable. I think it's up to your standards," she joked.
Her mother cracked a tiny smile. "Will you lay with me?" she asked.
"Of course."
"Is RJ okay?"
Rick glanced up from the overnight bag he packed, to where Michonne was stepping into their bedroom, closing the door, and leaning back against it. "I explained things to him and Judith. But they were pretty shaken up so I got Aaron to take all the kids out for some ice cream."
Michonne nodded and closed her eyes.
Rick threw the stack of shirts in his hand into the bag and made his way to her. He tugged her into his arms and held her as close as he could with a belly between them, and she slid her arms around him. "I don't gotta go tonight."
"No." She sighed. "Once she wakes up, she should be fine—well, better."
He could think of a million platitudes to comfort her at the moment, but he knew there was only one thing that mattered. "I love you."
Michonne settled into him. "I love you, too."
"I can't wait for you to become my wife tomorrow," he whispered.
Michonne leaned back. "I'm already your wife."
"Not according to our daughter."
"Did we unleash a monster?" Judith had for sure been a little overzealous and demanding when It came to the wedding plans, to the point where she required them to spend the night apart before the wedding. Though her daughter had never been to a wedding, she'd done her research, scouring through bridal magazines to learn what one should look like.
"She's put a lot of work into it. We'll take back our authority when it's over," he said, nodding.
They both cracked up.
"Well, until then, you better get going."
"Okay," he said, but still didn't let go of her. He just stared, a slow-spreading smile formed on his face. "Before you leave for the ceremony, pack a bag. With enough clothes for a week."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "What are you up to, Grimes?" They hadn't talked about a honeymoon, what with Dorothy's condition worsening Michonne hadn't wanted to spend time away from her. But she could admit that they needed this; an extended time alone that wasn't predicated on them running for their lives.
"I'm just tryna show you what it looks like when I got a lot to work with." Rick kissed her, soft and sweet. He pried his mouth off of hers when he could feel himself losing the little bit of control he had around her these days. "And don't worry, Elodie's gonna stay here while we're away, to look after Dorothy and the kids.
"You thought of everything." She looked equal parts relieved and eager.
"Oh, just you wait and see."
Elodie stood at the door of her mother's room, watching her sleep soundly.
When she'd arrived back with Michonne's dress, her sister had told her about the episode their mother had. Selfishly, she was glad she hadn't been there; her little sister had always been better at handling things like this. Elodie's MO had always been to run so fast that grief couldn't touch her. When her father had passed, she'd booked a one-way flight to Egypt and had flown straight out from the funeral and spent a year exploring Africa. After Denzel, she put all her focus into surviving, then after Xavier and Aaliyah, she walked for days.
She felt the need to run again; watching her mother slowly fade away was the worst kind of grief. But this time, there was nowhere to go.
Elodie moved to pull the door shut.
"Ellie, baby," her mother's quiet voice said.
"Hey, Mom."
Her mother pushed up on her elbows. "Where were you?"
"Picking up Michonne's dress."
Her mother nodded with a faraway look. "I didn't ruin anything did I?" she asked, her face struck with guilt.
Elodie shut the door and went to sit against the headboard. "You remember?"
Her mother pushed up to mimic her position. "Vaguely..." she stared at her lap. "RJ must be terrified of me now."
"Nah. He was asking after you. He just wanted to know you were okay."
"I'm so sorry I'm putting you through this."
"Oh, Mama." Elodie leaned her head against her mother's shoulder. "Not a bit of this is your fault. So don't you dare apologize?"
Her mother bent her arm to pat the side of her face. "Just tell me I'm not the reason you broke it off with your young man?"
Elodies head popped up. "What?" She'd never told anyone but her sister about what she'd had with Lucas. I'm gonna kill Michonne. "I don't have—"
"I may be losing my mind, but I still have eyes to see. That boy was head over heels for you... and you for him. It was obvious. And even more so when you stopped seeing him."
"We weren't seeing each other."
Her mother gave her a look of disbelief.
"We weren't… not officially. We were just having fun."
"Ah… and you made the mistake of letting your heart get involved."
No point in denying it now. "Yeah…" She sighed.
"I ain't gonna lecture you on what you should be doing, 'cause I know you already know, judging by how you been moping around here the past week."
"I haven't been moping," she said, defiantly.
"Mmm… whatever you need to tell yourself."
"Fine. I miss him, okay." She dropped her head back onto her mother's shoulder.
Her mother was quiet. "Was he good to you?" she asked.
"He was." And that had only been behind closed doors; her heart fluttered thinking about what he'd be like as a bonafide boyfriend.
"Then let him love you, baby."
"You make it sound so simple."
"Because it is."
"How is my favorite mom-to-be?" Dr. Clayborne breezed into the exam room. "Oh, and bride-to-be. Tomorrow's the big day!"
"Yup." Michonne leaned back on the exam table, with her jeans folded over beneath her exposed belly, and laced her hands behind her head. After six months of Dr. Clayborne seeing all her lady bits, formality was out the window. "Are you coming?"
"I wish." Dr. Clayborne slipped on gloves and tucked a paper cover over Michonne's jeans before squirting gel onto her belly. "I've got two deliveries tomorrow."
"You work too hard."
Dr. Clayborne spread the gel around with an ultrasound wand. "But I love it. Bringing life into the world, it's the greatest joy of my life."
"Thanks for seeing me on such short notice."
"Like I said—favorite. Trust me, there are some moms-to-be who I need a few days to mentally prepare to see... Alright, let's say hi to baby." She turned to the screen and focused as she examined the image.
She wasn't sure what Dr. Clayborne was looking at, but Michonne's eyes were fixed on the floating form on the screen. Her baby.
It wasn't the first time she'd seen it; Rick had a collection of ultrasound photos on his nightstand. She'd catch him shuffling through them now and then as they lay in bed at night.
But every time she saw their baby, it never failed to amaze her. This baby, conceived out of the fruit of hopelessness, was the epitome of a miracle. And getting to share this moment with Rick made it oh so sweet. She hated he felt he had to make up for not being there for RJ, but damn if she didn't appreciate the perks of an extra attentive Rick Grimes: the flowers he'd bring home from work "just because", the back rubs—oh, the back rubs—, and all the housework he'd taken on on top of his job.
Rick hadn't missed a doctor's appointment either, only he didn't know about this one.
"Everything's looking wonderful." Dr. Clayborne took a few photos before wiping off the wand and Michonne's belly. "You and Rick are still waiting, right? To find out the gender?" When Dr. Clayborne had asked weeks back, Rick had let Michonne decide and she had wanted to keep it a surprise, but she'd seen the eager glint in Rick's eyes when the question had been asked.
"Actually…" Michonne slid her shirt back over her belly and sat up. "I just found out we're going on a honeymoon and I thought it would be a great time to find out together."
"That's beautiful," Dr. Clayborne swooned. "Oh, and I've got the perfect idea for you."
Shooting the shit and pool in a bar, while throwing back a few, with his closest friends the night before his wedding was a trip for Rick.
But there he sat slowly sipping on his tumbler of brown around a pool table with Aaron, Lucas, Mercer, and Ezekiel.
"Usain Bolt had to have made it," Lucas said, pocketing a ball. He lifted up and leaned on his stick. "I mean dude was the fastest man alive, you can't tell me that didn't help in this."
"Right?" Mercer laughed.
Their conversation had settled on the topic of athletes and celebrities whose fate in the new world they'd been curious about.
"And what the hell happened to President Davis," Mercer said. "Out of everyone, you'd think that brotha would survive."
"First black President and the country's gotta go to shit on his watch?" Ezekiel lamented. "It ain't right."
"No one stood a chance back then. Didn't matter who you were. It was the luck of the draw," Rick said, taking a sip. "But you gotta wonder—"
"Rick?" A vaguely familiar voice said from behind.
When Rick turned, he thought it was the whisky conjuring up his long-lost friend from the past, until he heard Aaron say, "Morgan?"
Rick had sat, in awe, for the past hour listening to the stories of Morgan's road to get here. What he'd been through in Texas. How he'd found and lost love. And still, what amazed Rick most was that after everything, he'd thought to come back.
"You were right back then, at that junkyard," Morgan said. "I was running away from being part of it, but you said I'd end up with people. Met lots of 'em, lost a lot of 'em too."
"But you came back."
Morgan stared off a moment. "I made the wrong choice at the start. Not going with you when I had Duane. Thinking I could do it alone. I wasn't gon do that again. And I knew that where you were if you still were... that'd be the place we'd need to be. I was right."
"Where is she now, your daughter?"
"At your place." He smiled. "Hanging out with Judith and Gracie. I went there first. Met RJ. Saw Michonne—congratulations by the way, on the wedding and the baby."
Rick tipped his head. "Thanks." Took a sip of his refilled glass. "You can hardly tell we were those two wayward souls in that bar back there with those Saviors." He'd been so lost after Carl had died, a version of himself he never wanted to be again.
Morgan chuckled. "Nah, we ain't them anymore. I was wrong then too. Saying we lost everything good. Just couldn't see what was left, what could still be. Cause I was grippin' so tight to what I'd lost…" He stared at the table. "I did it though. Went back to King County and did what I shoulda done years ago… I put Duane down. And now I'm figuring out how to let him go"
"Don't think that's possible." Losing a child was unnatural; he'd learned a long while ago there was no getting over it. "They're still with us. They always will be." He'd never forget Carl. He wanted his son's memory so ingrained in the life of his family that his son would continue to be part of them, even when Rick was gone. It's why he, Michonne, and the kids took a train ride to Alexandria once a month to visit him. The day they were there was devoted to his memory. He'd heard it said once that the dead are only dead to us once they are forgotten. And he'd make for damn sure Carl Grimes never died.
The truth was that Rick had Michonne and Judith and so many others to help him remember, but he was the only other person left apart from Morgan who'd known Duane. Rick knew all too well what it was like to be lonely on the island of your memories; it was akin to wanting to be able to reminisce about a movie that only you'd seen. "You know, I remember that day with you and Duane so well. Just thinking how... unusually well-adjusted he was for what was going on in the world."
Morgan chuckled. "He was a resilient kid."
"Kind and brave and funny too."
"Oh, that he was. There were days when I'd just be so focused on keeping us alive and out of nowhere he'd crack a joke or say something—not meaning to be anything but himself and for a moment, everything was alright in our little world."
"You did good with him… and by him."
"Back at ya, man."
Over the years, Michonne had gotten so used to waking up alone—or with a foot in her face on the nights her kids had insisted on sleeping with her. So, it was strange at first—beautifully so—Rick being the first thing she saw when she woke in the morning. And it was strange again, waking to an unobstructed view of their window, on the morning of her wedding.
The sun rose, casting a salmon glow in the winter sky so beautiful Michonne was convinced it was just for her; the heavens blessing the day, or preemptively assuaging her nerves. Either way, she took the moment to close her eyes and let the peace wash over her; let it crash into her anxiety and carry it away.
Her hand flew to her belly at a kick to the gut. "Hi, my sweet baby," she said to her belly, her hand rubbing at it. "Daddy's not here to sing to you this morning, and I don't wanna scare you with my voice." Most mornings she'd wake to Rick crooning some old country western song, that she was convinced was a love song he'd repurposed for their child. "But you'll get to hear him tonight, okay? And me and you have got a big day ahead of us, so I need you to promise me you won't cause too much trouble in there today."
A soft knock sounded through the door.
"I bet that's your sister," Michonne said, before sitting up. "Come in."
"Happy wedding day!" Elodie said, too cheerful for it to sound like it was coming from the heart, shuffling into the room with a tray of breakfast.
"Wow… how thoughtful," Michonne said, suspiciously.
"Well, I was tasked with making and bringing you breakfast in bed. Along with getting you to the church on time. And I ain't tryna get on my niece's bad side, so you have thirty minutes to eat this before we gotta head out."
She set the tray on the nightstand and Michonne's entire being quivered at the sight of pancakes, bacon, eggs, and a side of fruit. If there was one thing her pregnant self had been looking forward to most about this day, it had to be the food… she could already taste the buttercream frosting she'd requested for her cake.
"Where's Judith?"
"At the reception hall."
"Already?"
"Did you not read your wedding day itinerary?" Elodie asked, incredulously.
"She didn't give me one. Said she wanted me to experience the day without all the details."
"God, I love that girl—yeah, Nabilla came to get her. They were meeting Maxxine at the train station to do the flowers for the reception. And Rick stopped by to get RJ already."
"Is mom awake?"
"Yeah, she's reading. Said to go without her. She wants to get dressed here and she'll meet us."
"Is that a good idea? Leaving her here alone?"
"She seems fine."
"She seemed fine yesterday, but look what happened."
"We can't handle her with kid gloves, Michonne. We're not there yet."
Michonne sighed. "Okay... but you know why she's not coming with us right?"
"Yup."
Their mother had spent her life putting the needs of others in front of her own, to a fault. On a day like today, her mother would no doubt be trying not to be a physical or emotional burden. Michonne wished it was as simple as reassuring her mother she wanted her there with her. But her mother was stubborn—yeah, it ran in the family—and combined with her guilt, convincing her of anything was a losing battle.
"Don't worry," Elodie said, setting a hand on Michonne's knee over the covers. "The family that just moved in next door, the dad's one of my students. I clued him in on what was going on. He said he and his wife would keep an eye out whenever we needed."
Michonne nodded. "Speaking of, how's work been since you and Lucas stopped having sleepovers."
Elodie huffed. "Fine."
"And that's a problem?"
"That guy is scarily good at compartmentalizing. It's why it was so easy for us to work together while we were—ya know. But... okay, is it immature of me to want a little bit of angst? I mean I just wanna know he misses me."
"Here's a novel idea. Ask him!"
"Or… how about I just stunt on all the single chicks at your wedding? Make it so he can't ignore my fine ass."
"You know what, this is a day of love. And your plotting is disturbing my peace. So…" Michonne trailed off, raising a suggestive brow.
"You ain't gotta tell me twice." Elodie popped up from the bed. "Thirty minutes," she yelled on her way out.
"Oh, Mom!" Judith gasped, her hand ghosting in front of her mouth, she was careful not to smudge the lipstick her aunt had applied only minutes earlier. "You look gorgeous."
Her mom stood in front of the vanity in the church's bridal suite, Aunt Elodie behind touching up her mom's hair—freshly shaved at the side, with all of her curled locs swept to one side. Her makeup was subtle, but it made her glow. And when her mother stood, Judith's mouth hung open as she took in the loose long-sleeved, cream chiffon dress that draped over her belly and flowed to curl on the floor. But her favorite part of the dress was easily the details of lace edging the line of the v-neck.
Her aunt looked like a supermodel in the long-sleeved lilac dress she wore that matched Judith's, her short hair slicked down and parted at the side, with perfect waves combed into the edges of her pixie face.
"Judith." Her mom swallowed and held her arms out. "Baby girl, you are…" she shook her head, unable to continue.
Judith stepped into her mom's arms. "Ooh, you smell good." Her mother smelled of subtle sweetness, a perfect mix between a tangerine and the Magnolias that grow in spring. "What is that?"
Her mom leaned back and stared down at her with a smile. "Nabila made it for me from the fall bloom in Alexandria." She pushed a stray strand of curl out of Judith's face. "Your dad see you yet?"
She nodded. "He got all weepy. Took everything for him not to cry."
"That sounds about right." Her mom kissed her forehead. "Thank you for everything you've done."
Water welled in Judith's eyes and she blinked fast, trying to keep them at bay. "I just want you and Daddy to have one perfect day."
"Oh, baby girl. Every day we're with you and RJ is a perfect day for us."
"I know, but this one's pretty special right?"
"It is—it already is. Thank you for making it happen."
A couple of quick knocks, before the door opened and Maxxine, who'd volunteered to help Judith plan the wedding—and take care of all the adult things their twelve-year-old couldn't—popped her head into the room. "Sorry to interrupt, Michonne, your mom's here." Maxxine slid out of the way for Nana Dorothy to wheel into the room.
Judith stepped out of her mom's arms and moved in between her mom and aunt.
Her nana stopped in front of them, her eyes scanning from Aunt El and landing on Judith's mom. "Can we have the room?" Her nana said softly, not taking her eyes off her mom.
"Come on." Aunt El took her hand and they stepped out of the room behind Maxxine.
Michonne had known the day would make her hormonal self emotional, but dammit, she'd already had like ten close calls. The first wave of tears had come when she'd walked into the bridal suite to a bouquet and a note beside it from Rick. Then again when her sister had gifted her silver plated hair combs she'd stolen from an untouched jewelry shop outside the walls. And then when she'd seen her beautiful baby girl all dressed up and wearing makeup for the first time. And now standing in front of her mother, who was as elegant as ever in a teal embroidered pantsuit and looked every bit the mother of the bride.
Her mother's eyes trailed from the hem of Michonne's dress to her face. "Always knew you'd make a stunning bride."
"Even when I didn't."
Her mother reached up to her neck and unclasped the gold, jade pendant that dangled from it and held it in her hand. "I figured it'd be pretty hard to find something old. "Your father gave this to me on the first birthday we celebrated together."
"I remember. I helped him pick it out. I'd never seen him so nervous as he was to get that gift right."
Her mother was quiet, for a moment. "I loved Marcus dearly, but Freeman." She shook her head. "That man, he was my everything. I never met someone who got me the way he did."
Michonne sat down in the vanity chair in front of her mother.
"It was like... like everything in my life was leading up to the moment I met him."
Michonne remembered the days following her mother's death. She'd taken a semester off of school to stay with her dad, who'd been a shell of himself. He'd had no friends, no support besides her. It'd been Michonne who'd insisted he go to the grief support group. She hadn't anticipated that'd be the place he'd fall in love again. Seeing her father in love in a way he'd never been with her mother had broken her heart a little bit and made her resent Dorothy in the beginning. And now, having loved twice, she understood things on a whole nother level. She wished she could tell her father that she got it.
Her mother took Michonne's hand and placed the necklace inside of it. "You're something old and blue."
"And borrowed."
"I want you to have it."
"I can't..."
"Soon I won't be able to remember the significance of it. I want it with someone who can. And you should have a piece of your father with you today."
"Will you put it on?"
Emotional, Dorothy nodded.
Michonne knelt beside her mother's wheelchair and focused on not letting a tear slip through as her mother clasped the necklace.
Rick walked up the flower-lined aisle, holding RJ's hand, to the string quartet playing "Can't Help Falling in Love With You". He nodded at the familiar faces seated in the crowd and stood beside Gabriel at the altar.
Nothing could wipe the smile off of his face, as he stood with his hand folded in front of himself watching his daughter walk down the aisle cradling a bouquet, that didn't hold a candle to her beauty. She hugged him and he kissed her forehead before she went to stand on the other side of Gabriel. Then Elodie made her way down the aisle.
The music dwindled to nothing.
"Please rise," Gabriel said into the silence.
Rick's heartbeat rose and he adjusted the lapels of his cream suit jacket, thankful he'd not worn a tie as his throat closed up on him. He'd kept it together all day—barely—but the force of this wave was too much for him to contend with.
The soft instrumental climbed slowly and when the double doors of the church opened, Rick gasped, to catch the breath that the sight of Michonne stole from him.
She was radiant.
For him, Michonne had always been it: the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on, and he hadn't been able to believe his luck when she'd become his, back in Alexandria. Watching her gracefully walk toward him now, looking more stunning than he could have ever imagined, even with tears of her own spilling onto her cheeks, he once again wondered what he'd done in this life, or the one before it, to deserve this woman.
He wanted to look away from her eyes, take her in more fully, but he was locked into her gaze. The eyes that had seen straight through to the heart of him right from that moment at the prison fence. Even in Philadelphia, through all the bullshit, she'd seen him. Time and time again she saw him, in a way no one in his entire life had.
Michonne handed her bouquet to Judith and reached her hand out when she stepped in front of him. He grabbed it and held on like it was his lifeline.
She swung their interlocked hands out wide and looked him up and down. "Wow," she mouthed, once she settled on his face.
Rick wanted to tell her how breathtaking she was, but he didn't trust he could say the words without choking up… He tightened his hold on her hand, slid his thumb across the back of it. How the hell was he supposed to get through his vows?
"You may be seated?" Rick vaguely heard Gabriel say.
And whatever else he said next was background noise. Rick, spellbound staring into Michonne's eyes, couldn't hear or see anything else.
"Rick. Rick." Michonne squeezed his hand and he shook himself out of his reverie.
She nudged her head in Gabriel's direction.
Rick tore his eyes away from Michonne, to look at the man who watched him. "Your vows."
"Oh, right."
Their guests tittered.
Rick reluctantly let go of Michonne and reached his suddenly shaky hand into his breast pocket to remove the thin piece of paper. He flipped it open and stared at the words until his blurred vision cleared. "Michonne." He looked up at her and she gave him an encouraging smile. "You're my answer—to it all. When I ask myself why I'm here. When I wonder how I've managed to survive in this broken world. When I worry about tomorrow—I know it'll be alright because you'll be there."
A tear slipped from Michonne's eyes and then Rick's in response.
"When I think about my life and the decisions I've made to get here today, I count that day I let you into the prison as the best decision I've ever made." He paused and looked up at her, smiling. "I told you that it was because of that baby formula—that you walked miles, bleeding out, to bring to me." He shook his head like he still couldn't believe it. "But that was a lie. It was you."
Michonne smiled.
"I didn't know just what, back then. But I felt it. I couldn't let you go. And I will never, ever let you go." He pocketed his vows and took her hand again. "I love you. I love you so so much." Rick's voice cracked; he took another moment. "I have never and will never love anyone the way that I love you."
His words hung in the air until Gabriel cleared his throat. "Michonne."
"Whew," Michonne blew out. "Now I wish I'd gone first."
Rick chuckled, along with their guests.
Michonne let go of his hand and reached back to take the piece of paper Elodie handed her. She took a deep breath. "On the day I stopped looking for you, I walked to this lookout that felt like the edge of the world. I sat there and I—-it was sunset. Beautiful. I thought it was the perfect place to lay your memory to rest. I knew I couldn't live in the past forever."
Rick tilted his head up, trying to keep the well of water in his lids.
"So I sat there for hours and I thought about our life together, for one last time—It's what I told myself." She looked at him through her eyelashes. "I stayed there for hours, thinking about every single moment we spent together. And I realized a few things... First, never in my life have I felt safer than when I'm standing beside you. Second, when I found you I found my purpose. And third, when I found you I found me. Who I always felt like I was supposed to be." She set her hand on his face and slid her thumb across it. "I love you, Rick Grimes... forever."
Rick closed the space between them, not waiting for Gabriel to give him the go-ahead. He pressed his lips to hers and put everything he was feeling at that moment into kissing her.
The kiss was sweet, but only for a second, and where Michonne would normally pull away, she pressed in until it was the type of kiss they reserved for late nights in their bedroom when the kids were all tucked in. When their tongues touched, Rick felt a jolt of arousal fire through his body. He tore himself away from Michonne. "We should stop," he breathed into her ear, over their guest's applause.
"Yeah," Michonne said, breathless. "Save it for the honeymoon."
Michonne paused in the doorway of the train station, amidst the cheering of their wedding guests, to take in the space that had been transformed into a winter wonderland. White flowers adorned every expertly placed table, and twinkle lights draped the balcony and every column, making the dimmed room glow; it was hard to tell that right outside it was early afternoon.
"How in the hell did Judith pull this off?" Rick whispered to her, holding onto her hand.
"I have no idea."
An hour later, with the party in full swing, Rick and Michonne made their rounds. They hadn't let go of each other's hands since they'd walked out of the church. Not even as she'd devoured her plate of chicken and rice.
"Château Mouton Rothschild," Chopra said, slipping an expensive-looking wine bottle from a gift bag. "I found it close to the start and I held onto it all this time, just waiting for it to peak."
"And you're giving it to us?" Rick asked, standing beside Michonne above the Chopra's.
Chopra made a pained face. "It'll be tough, but—"
Aanisha backhanded his belly, silencing him. "Band karo!" Turning to Rick and Michonne, she said, "He's being dramatic. He has another back home, the exact same." She gave her husband a sideways glance that spelled they were an old married couple. "He'll be fine. And we thought Michonne would enjoy something good to drink after the baby's born."
Michonne's hand went to her belly and she groaned. "I can already taste it. Thank you."
"Of course." Anisha lightly patted the hand Michonne had over her belly. "You deserve it and so much more, dear."
"Are we still on for dinner?" Chopra asked. "After the two of you get back from—"
Aanisha backhanded him again. "Shhhh. It's a surprise."
Rick and Michonne exchanged an amused look.
"Ah. I'm sorry."
"It's fine," Rick said. "She already knows."
Michonne tilted her head at Rick. "And apparently, so does everyone else."
He shrugged a look of innocence on his face. "I got excited."
"Hey, everyone. I'm Elodie. I have the privilege of being Michonne's older sister," she said into the microphone, standing on the platform in front of the dance floor. "And I just wanted to say..." Her eyes were on her sister and brother-in-law, seated all hugged up at their little table for two in the center of the room. But Lucas occupied the entire view out of the corner of her eye. She'd stolen stealth glances at him all day; and my God did he look fine as hell in his jet-black suit.
And she'd made sure she was looking her best too, so why hadn't she caught him peeping? Was it really over? How was it so easy for him to just drop her, when she had barely slept all week, feening for another hit of him?
Just admit it, you want that man.
Did she?
Do I?
On an impulse, Elodie turned away from Michonne and Rick and looked directly at Lucas. Their eyes connected and held for the first time since Philadelphia. And that one look was all it took for her to know that she wanted him, in a way she could never admit before.
"Love is scary," she said into the microphone, still staring at him. "Terrifying actually. It's like riding a rollercoaster. One minute you're coasting toward the clouds and then suddenly you're plummeting to the earth and you think you want off, but you know there's another easy stretch coming so you stick around." She had no clue where she was going with this, but Lucas' soft smile was all she needed to continue. "And despite the scary bits, you get back on again and again and again, because it makes you feel alive. And what is life for, if not to feel alive?"
They stared at each other, in what must have been awkward silence, until Lucas' face tensed like he suddenly remembered he wasn't feeling her anymore, and he looked away.
Elodie's heart dropped and she remembered there were eyes on her. "Uh—" she turned back to face Rick and Michonne, who watched her with concerned looks on their faces. "So uh... raise your glasses," she said, trying to recover and remember where the hell she'd been going with her speech. "To Rick and Michonne, who've—uh." She scrambled to bring her ramblings to a coherent end. "They've had more peaks and valleys than most, but have never gotten off of the ride." Okay, great. Now just get the hell off this stage. She raised her glass. "To the bride and groom."
"To the bride and groom," the guests echoed, raising their glasses.
Elodie threw back the wine in her glass and hurried to hand Jerry the microphone, where he stood at the DJ set up behind her, as he faded a slow jam in. "Thank you for that... interesting speech," he said into the microphone. "Alright, alright. At this time, I'd like to welcome the bride and groom to the dance floor for their first dance."
Elodie walked back to her table and slouched into her seat. She watched Rick and Michonne sway cheek to cheek, so content in each other's arms. Damn Lucas, for making her want that again.
"I liked that speech."
Elodie startled, then bristled at the sound of Lucas' voice behind her.
He lowered into the empty seat beside her and stared at Rick and Michonne. "They look so happy."
"It's the happiest I've ever seen my sister," she said, watching Michonne throw her head back in laughter as Rick spun her around.
Lucas looked sideways at her. "Are you happy?"
"I was." She glanced at him.
"And what you said in that speech, do you believe that now?"
"Yeah... I wasn't prepared to get back on the ride again. But I think I might be ready to try."
Lucas stared at her, a litany of emotions sliding across his face in mere seconds, before it settled on a soft expression of understanding.
"All the love birds in the house," Jerry said. "Go on and join our bride and groom on the dance floor."
Lucas stood and for a tiny second, Elodie panicked, but when she saw his extended hand and looked up to his smiling face, she relaxed.
"Can I have this dance?"
She set her hand inside his and let herself be escorted onto the dance floor along with the other couples.
When they found a spot at the corner, he slipped his arms around her waist and she draped hers around his neck. They swayed silently for a moment, staring into each other's eyes.
"For the record," Lucas said. "I've missed you."
"Well, I couldn't tell." Elodie pursed her lips.
He smiled. "I have a good poker face."
She slapped his chest. "I thought you were over me, asshole."
Lucas' face went dead serious and he halted their movements; he leaned down close to her. "Hear me when I say this… I could never and will never get over you."
Elodie, needing to show him she was all the way in now, lifted up on her toes and kissed him, right there in the midst of everyone they knew.