Chapter 4: November. Thanksgiving.
The students in Miss Hawthorne's 7th grade Literature class were taking a test to show their understanding of the latest book on their reading list - The Giver.
As they worked, Michonne twisted her favorite necklace around her fingers and contemplated her relationship with a certain sheriff with electric blue eyes. He had sent a gift basket containing a whole slew of spices by way of Carl. It now sat beneath her desk, and her foot bumped carelessly against it a few times as she rocked her chair back and forth. She had told him to stop sending her gifts, but apparently he didn't listen. She wondered if she should send it back.
But then she thought back to a conversation she just recently had with Sasha. She had told her the same thing that she told Rick - that she just didn't want to get into a relationship and that Rick was a relationship guy. After reprimanding her for being 33 and talking like a 23-year-old, Sasha had still advocated to give Rick a chance.
"Rick is a grown man," she had said. "If he says he's willing to get to know you with no expectations of a deeper relationship anytime soon, maybe you should take his word for it. If you're feeling him and he's feeling you, there's no reason why you shouldn't get something out of it."
The students started to hand in their tests, breaking Michonne out of her reverie. She took them and dismissed them early so that they could have a little free time before their next class. She knew she had made the test pretty difficult, so they deserved it.
Carl was the last person to hand in his test. When he lingered, Michonne looked up at him. "Yes, Carl?" she asked gently.
"My birthday's this Friday," he said. "Mom and Dad are giving me a birthday dinner. You should come."
Michonne sucked air between her teeth. If it was just a dinner between Carl and Rick, that would be one thing. But she wasn't comfortable being there with Rick's ex-wife as well. "I don't know," she said. "It sounds like a family affair. I wouldn't want to impose."
Carl frowned. "But it's my birthday. I get to decide who I want to be there."
"Valid point," Michonne said. She sighed. She did not want to be caught in an uncomfortable situation, but Carl's puppy dog eyes were her weakness. "Let your mom and dad know that you invited me," she said. "If they have no objections, I'll be there."
"Yes!" Carl said, pumping his fist. "Thanks, Miss Hawthorne!" With that, he was bounding out of the room.
Before Michonne twisted herself in knots over the realization that she would be seeing Rick again soon in a non-professional environment, she pulled her phone out to call her mother. She needed to figure out Thanksgiving plans.
"Mom," she said when her mom picked up the phone. "Whose house are we having Thanksgiving dinner at this year?"
"Baby, did you not get the memo?" her mom asked from the other side of the line. "Your dad and I are gonna be in Thailand for the holidays this year! We posted about it on FaceBook! Some of the rest of the family decided they'd be doing trips too. So I don't know who all is gonna be in town for Thanksgiving."
Michonne groaned. 'Of course,' she thought. Her parents loved FaceBook, but she barely visited. She kept trying to get everyone to use WhatsApp more so she could stay in the loop. "You're going to Thailand without me?" she whined as if she was seven years old again.
"You're busy with your job," her mom rebutted. "We'll plan to go somewhere over the summer too; maybe you can join us then. Why don't you call your Aunt Kim and see if she's gonna be in town for the holidays?"
"Mom, you know Aunt Kim is holding a grudge against me ever since my mac n' cheese recipe was voted to be the favorite three years ago. I'm not going over to her house just to get shade thrown at me every five minutes."
"You know," her mom said. "If you would hurry up and find yourself a man, you wouldn't have to worry about whose house to go to for Thanksgiving…"
Michonne rolled her eyes. 'Here we go,' she thought. Her mom had barely let her break-up with Mike simmer before she had started pushing her to jump back into the dating game. "You know what," Michonne said, not even allowing her mom to get started. "I'll probably just have a small Friendsgiving get-together at my place. I'm gonna go now. Bye, Mom." She hung up before her mom could reply.
The smell of baking lasagna filled Michonne's small, modern apartment. As she waited for her dinner to cook, her thoughts went back to Rick. It had been a week since she had seen him. Besides the gift basket full of spices, he hadn't tried to reach out to her. In fact, he never reached out to her. He had her cell phone number because she had used it more than once to call him to come pick up Carl. Maybe he didn't know it was her number. Maybe he thought she always used the school landline.
Before she could think herself out of it, she picked up her cellphone from the kitchen counter beside her and sent a text to Rick. 'Hey, this is Michonne,' it read. 'Did Carl tell you that he invited me to his birthday dinner?'
Michonne received a text a couple of minutes later. 'Well hey yourself,' it read. Michonne smiled because she could hear the messages in his voice. 'Carl did tell me about the invite. I gave him a high five.'
Michonne chuckled and shook her head. 'Don't tell me I got snared by the nefarious Grimes boys once again,' she texted back.
'Mwahaha,' Rick's text read. Michonne settled down onto her couch in the living room. She loved when Rick's playfulness came through. 'But, no, seriously. That was all Carl. That boy loves you.'
Michonne was touched. She had a major soft spot for Carl as well.
Another text message came in. 'What are you doing?'
Michonne responded, 'Cooking dinner.'
'Can I call you?'
Michonne stared at the message for a moment. Of course Rick was the kind of person who tried to turn text conversations into a phone call. Michonne gave it some thought. 'Sure,' she finally responded.
The phone started to ring in her hand. "Hello?" She laid fully on the couch, one leg hanging over the side and one leg propped up - the knee pointing to the ceiling.
"What are you makin'?" His accent and gravelly tone sounded that much heavier over the phone. Michonne felt a stirring in the pit of her stomach.
'Oh, yeah,' Michonne thought. 'I've had much too long of a dry spell if I'm getting this turned on by a voice.'
"Lasagna," Michonne responded evenly, determined to be normal.
"Lasagna…Yum," his voice rumbled. "I hope I get a chance to try your lasagna someday."
'You can come over now if you want,' Michonne's mind unhelpfully provided. She tamped that thought down. He couldn't very well leave Carl at home alone without a babysitter. 'Maybe Carl is staying with his mom tonight,' her unhelpful brain argued back.
As her mind fought an internal battle, Michonne maintained a steady voice. "It's too bad you probably won't," Michonne teased.
Rick chuckled, and the sound creeped right down to Michonne's vagina. The tell-tale tingling of arousal began to bloom between her thighs. Her tight jeans weren't helping matters. If she shifted her hips even a little, the rough fabric brushed gently against her clit and added to her arousal all the more.
"Ouch," Rick said, completely unaware of the effect he was having. "You love giving me a hard time, don't you?"
"Yes," Michonne said. "I love making it hard for you." Her wording was a secret little come-on for herself. She switched the phone from her right hand to her left so that she could trail her dominant hand down her stomach…between her legs. She laid her hand gently against her center and swiveled her hips in small circles to provide pleasant pressure.
"Oh, no," Rick said with another laugh. "Well, can you stop being mean to me for one second and tell me…Did you like the spice basket?"
"Yes," Michonne answered. "I liked the spice basket, Rick."
She pressed her hand harder against her wanting center and continued to swivel her hips into her own touch. She imagined the hand was Rick's - veiny and large. Her eyes grew heavy and lusty. Her thighs clenched tightly, trapping her hand there in the center as she undulated against the contact.
Rick continued to speak on the other side of the phone. "I'm glad you liked it. I was thinking spices are always appreciated around this time of year. If you're cooking a lot, it can come in handy. Did you use any of the spices tonight?"
"Hmm?" Michonne asked. Her mind was beginning to fog with pleasure, and it was becoming hard to keep her end of the conversation going. She just wanted him to keep speaking and fueling her arousal. "Yeah, actually," she said, her brain catching up to his question. "I used…the red pepper flakes."
"I bet that's going to taste good."
"So good," Michonne breathed.
She unbuckled her jeans and pushed her hand beneath the band of her pants.
She felt a bit perverted, using an unsuspecting Rick's voice to get off. But that didn't stop her from leaning into the buzz that was building within her.
Her hand slipped beneath her black lace panties, and she touched her wet folds.
"If there are other things you like, feel free to let me know," Rick said. "Good food…Flowers…Literature…Anything else?"
Michonne rubbed her fingers in a circular motion against her clit. She was still imagining Rick's hand…his rough fingers…
"Michonne?"
Oh, God. His voice sounded so good saying her name. The way his tongue massaged it. She imagined his tongue on her clit.
Her back arched away from the couch as she slid two fingers into herself and used the heel of the palm of her hand to continue the pressure against her bud of nerves. Her hips moved to meet the ministrations of her hand.
Realizing that Rick had stopped talking and that he had asked her a question, Michonne searched for an answer. If only to get him talking again. "Poetry," she said suddenly - her lagging brain again having caught up. "Do you know any poetry?"
Rick answered eagerly from the other side. "I actually have a poetry book around here somewhere. Hold on."
Michonne imagined Rick's hands and tongue playing between her thighs as she waited for him to find whatever he was looking for. And then he was back.
"Found it. How's this one?"
And then he was reciting poetry into her ear.
The rhythm was off, and it was full of weak metaphors to try to create imagery that just wasn't coming across. But it was enough. The poetry of whatever amateur poet wrote those words got the job done.
Michonne's fingers worked quickly between her thighs.
She was about to orgasm. She could feel it.
Her breathing grew heavy. Her bucking hips grew still as her nimble hand did all the work. 'Fuck,' she thought blissfully. 'Fuck, fuck, fuck!'
She froze on the cusp of pleasure and then her muscles melted into the couch as her womanly juices soaked her panties.
"How was that?" Rick asked, having finished the poem he was reading. "Was it good?"
Michonne released a light chuckle in disbelief at herself and at the situation. "It was good," she said, not talking about the poetry. "It was very, very good."
"It was from an old poetry book I noticed around the house last week. Funnily enough, I thought of you when I saw it…"
The smell of burning lasagna suddenly filled the air and Michonne shot up in her seat. Her phone was still grasped in her fingers. The last message read: 'That boy loves you.' There was nothing after that. She looked around groggily as she realized she must have fallen asleep on the couch and dreamed the phone call.
When the smell of burning food wafted through the room once more, she realized what must have woken her up. "Shit!" Her food was burning.
Carl's birthday dinner was to take place at Belladonna's, a 4-star Italian restaurant in King County. Michonne decided to take an Uber there because she wasn't sure how much wine she would have tonight. She figured she would have to have a lot in order to face Rick.
She had had sex dreams about Rick every night this week. It left her feeling unmoored and unsettled. Her body was trying to tell her something, but she didn't want to listen.
Michonne grew even more uncomfortable when she walked into the sectioned-off room Rick and Lori must have specifically reserved for the birthday boy and saw a whole table full of people. She recognized Rick, Lori, and Carl. She didn't recognize the two older couples that sat at the table or the toddler that was kicking and screaming in the high chair. She quickly surmised that they must be Carl's grandparents.
She was tempted to turn around and leave. She felt so out of place. But Carl looked up and saw her, and it was too late.
"Miss Hawthorne! I mean, Michonne!" He came running over to her and gave her a hug. "You made it!"
"I did!" Michonne said with a tight smile. She couldn't believe she forgot to ask Carl how many of his family members would be at the dinner. She decided she would order, give Carl his present, and then leave as fast as she could.
Introductions, thankfully, went quickly. And then it was time to give Carl his presents. He received money from his grandparents, a suit from Lori, and a scrapbook full of memories from the past year from Rick. Michonne was surprised at the sentimental gift from Rick. He collected tickets, pictures, scraps of fabric and other memories from the entire year just for this moment. There were even the pictures from Halloween in there - the pictures of Carl dressed as Nightcrawler and Michonne dressed as Storm. Carl showed them to her with a happy smile on his face. Michonne looked over to Rick to see him beaming at his son with obvious adoration. Her heart pounded in her chest.
"Do you have something?" Michonne tore her eyes away from Rick when she felt herself being addressed.
"Oh. Yeah," Michonne responded to Rick's father. She dug into her purse and pulled out a rectangular gift box with a ribbon wrapped around it. She smiled as she handed it to an eager Carl.
His eager expression turned into a perplexed one when he reached into the box and pulled out a business card. "What is this?" he asked.
"That is the number of a storyboard artist at Marvel Comics," Michonne said proudly. "His name is Ezekiel, and he's a friend of mine. I told him about you, and he offered to give you a tour around the Marvel headquarters if you're ever in New York. Lifetime pass."
Carl's mouth fell open in amazement. "Cool!" he said loudly. He ran around the table to give Michonne another hug.
"Hey! I didn't get a hug!" Rick whined. Carl went around the table to give his dad a hug too. "Thank you," Rick said to Michonne as Carl broke away to give his mom a hug as well.
'No problem,' she mouthed back with a wave of her hand.
"Oh great," the woman Michonne learned was Lori's mom spoke from the other side of the table. "I was hoping Carl would outgrow those frivolous comics soon." She turned her sharp-eyed focus to Michonne. "With you being a Literature teacher, I would think you wouldn't encourage his interest in those useless things."
"Some comic books actually have the same themes as some of the most classic novels," Michonne immediately shot back. It was a pet peeve of hers when people looked down on any form of creative medium. There was something to be learned from all of it. "And one could argue that the themes are sometimes presented in a more succinct and palatable manner than well-renowned yet pretentious classic authors like Ayn Rand or Bret Easton Ellis are able to accomplish. And if that brevity is what draws young people into learning about important themes or learning how to dissect and interpret a piece of creative work, then it is not useless. It's actually far from it."
Michonne looked around at everyone at the table once she was done with her spiel. Lori's mom's mouth was hanging open. Her husband was looking at Michonne like she had just spoken a different language. Rick was looking at her with amusement, and Carl was trying to fight a smile. The silence was only broken when the toddler at the end of the table let out a loud fart.
"That…is definitely a dirty diaper," Lori said. "I'll take care of it." She quickly excused herself from the table.
"I'll help you," her mom said, getting up to follow behind her.
'Great,' Michonne thought. 'They're definitely going off to talk about me.'
She heard her phone vibrate in her purse, so she pulled it out. She hoped it would be an excuse to leave, but it was something even better - a secret message from Rick. 'You're such a nerd,' it read. Bubbles appeared and then so did a follow-up message. 'It's cute.'
A smile played on Michonne's lips as she sent a message back. 'I don't know…I think the baby was telling me that my opinion is shit.' She felt a sense of satisfaction when she heard a small laugh escape Rick's lips.
Another message lit up the screen of her phone. 'Don't mind my ex mother-in-law. She's known to be a bit onerous.'
'Okay,' Michonne texted back. 'But I'm going to make my exit as soon as I find a moment. I'm uncomfortable.'
She received a frowning emoji as a response, but she looked up to see Rick nod his understanding.
Soon after Lori and her mom returned to the table, the server came to take their orders. Michonne only ordered an appetizer so that she could finish it quickly. And when Lori's mom made a passive aggressive comment about how it was rude for one person to bring a date to her precious grandson's birthday party when her daughter was gracious enough not to do something so callous…Michonne knew it was her time to go. She held her hand up for the server, paid for her portion of the check, wished Carl "happy birthday" and was on her way.
While she was outside waiting for her Uber, she wasn't surprised when Rick came outside to stand beside her. Michonne immediately became aware of his body next to hers and the scent of his cologne. She knew she would be dreaming about him again tonight.
"I'm sorry," he said. Michonne looked over at his pink lips as his mouth formed the words he spoke. "Our parents decided to join us last minute. I didn't have time to warn you."
An image of those lips and that tongue pressed between her thighs filled her mind.
"It's okay," Michonne said. In her mind, she filed that uncomfortable dinner under yet another reason why she didn't want to enter into a relationship. She didn't want to ingratiate herself into anyone's extended family. It was, yet again, something that was too much hassle. "I'm just glad I was able to help Carl enjoy his birthday."
"Yeah, thank you again for that," Rick said. "He loved your present. I think it was his favorite."
Michonne shook her head. "No," she said, turning to Rick. "He was excited by my present, yes, but his favorite was definitely yours. Did you see his smile? Your scrapbook was special."
They locked eyes and time seemed to freeze for a moment. The breeze seemed to stop, the sound of the cars on the street seemed to grow distant…Michonne found herself leaning forward.
She didn't know what this was, but maybe Sasha was right. Maybe she should stop fighting it. She leaned back just as Rick started to dip forward toward her lips because she heard her Uber pull up behind her. She moved to open the door. But before she ducked inside the car, she turned to Rick and said, "If you were serious about getting to know me without expecting any kind of deep relationship to come from it, come to my place next week. And leave Carl with his mom."
She tore herself from Rick's intense gaze and rode off into the night.
The next morning, Michonne woke up to a 'Good morning!' text from Rick.
She sighed.
He was already doing this wrong.
As she went to the bathroom to brush her teeth, she sent a quick message back.
Rick, who was humming a Johnny Cash song as he got dressed, quickly checked his phone to see the message Michonne had just sent him.
'No good morning texts.'
"Fuck," Rick whispered. He quickly sent a text back.
Michonne paused in brushing her teeth to look at the message. It was the emoji with the zipped lips. Between the frowning face at dinner yesterday and this, Michonne had to admit that she was impressed with Rick's adept use of emojis. She didn't think he had it in him.
She smiled and got ready for her day.
"Even though troubles may come from the reintegration of change in society, it's better than the monotony of the world they know."
Michonne stared down at the words on Carl's test paper on The Giver. His conclusive statement of the work struck a chord within her. She marked an 'A' on the paper.
At the end of class, she handed all of the test papers back to her students and told them to enjoy their Thanksgiving break.
Carl lingered at her desk again.
"Yes, Carl?" she prompted.
"Do you have anything planned for Thanksgiving because, if you don't, you can come over to my dad's place to celebrate."
Michonne did think that was a tempting offer, but then she remembered Lori's mother. And she didn't want to chance an encounter with that woman again. Besides…she had decided to go to a cousin's barbecue on Thanksgiving Day.
"Thank you," she told Carl. "But I do have plans."
When a dejected look fell onto Carl's face, Michonne's stomach sank. She did have that hook-up with Rick planned for the next week. She was going to roast a small chicken for the both of them so that Rick could satiate his appetite before she satiated her own. It was technically a small Thanksgiving dinner. And she suddenly felt guilty for leaving Carl out.
"Maybe next year," Carl said as he turned to walk away.
"Carl…Wait."
When Carl left, she sent a quick message to Rick.
'Change of plans. I invited Carl to our little Thanksgiving.'
Michonne waited nervously as the dots that showed a message being written appeared. Finally it came through. 'So there will be no *eggplant* on the menu?'
Michonne laughed, again surprised by his humor. 'No *eggplant*,' Michonne confirmed.
'That's okay,' Rick messaged. 'I'm following your lead.'
Michonne stared at Rick's message. That was scary. Because she had no idea where she was going.