A/N: Enjoy!
11. Cross Roads
My heart and my soul stood before me, but I was frozen in place, paralyzed by my warring emotions. I could hardly catch my breath as the joy from being within arm's reach of Nugget flowed through me. But anger was there as well, bubbling, refusing to lie dormant.
Rick and I hadn't seen each other or had an actual conversation in almost two weeks. The man who I'd known almost all my life, who I'd co-partnered with for the last year, who was one of my favorite people in the world, had cut off our friendship with no just cause and, seemingly, without regret.
I could see him struggling to find the words that wouldn't fuel my anger, but right as he found them and was about to say something, Nugget sneezed himself awake.
My heart melted as I watched him yawn, stretch his little body and open his eyes.
"Bless you, buddy," Rick whispered, gazing at Nugget with the softest of smiles on his face.
"Dadu grah blem sho," Nugget babbled as he tried to sit up in Rick's arms.
"Glad to see you too," Rick said.
He lifted Nugget into an upright position and laughed when Nugget tried to grab his nose.
"You want my nose? Well you can't have it," Rick playfully teased, moving his face out of Nugget's reach.
He gave Nugget a quick kiss on his forehead and turned him toward me. "Look who's here," he whispered in Nugget's ear.
Before I could worry about how he would respond to seeing me, he screamed "Muh!" and reached his little arms out for me to take him.
My eyes clouded with tears when Rick came a few steps closer and Nugget practically jumped into my arms. I held him close, savoring the feel of his warm body and inhaling his familiar scent.
"I'm sorry," I told him as my tears started to fall. "I love you so very, very much, Nugget. I'm sorry I haven't been there for you."
I gave him a gentle kiss on top of his head and held him up to get a good look at him. There were undeniable hints of Lori in his face, but he was still mostly a carbon copy of Rick. Giggles erupted from him as I covered his precious face with kisses, and for the first time in days I felt like I was living in a world full of color again.
Without looking at Rick, I stepped into my condo and stood to the side for him to enter. Without saying anything, he picked up Nugget's car seat and diaper bag and stepped past me. Because of the fractured state of our relationship, he lingered awkwardly by the door.
His uncertainty over whether he should make himself comfortable or wait for my invitation to do so was a little astounding and a little infuriating. I wasn't ready to swap my joy for my anger though, so once I closed the door, I soaked up Nugget's affection, grinning as he planted sloppy kiss after sloppy kiss on my cheek.
"Has he eaten?" I asked Rick.
"Yeah. He fell asleep on the way over here," he said, tenderly rubbing Carl's head.
I felt Rick's eyes on me, but instead of returning his gaze, I took a seat on the couch and stood Nugget up on my thighs. I held onto his hands while he used his little legs to bounce up and down.
"Did you get some new freckles, Nugget? You did, didn't you? You got new freckles," I said, sprinkling him with more kisses.
His happy squeals meant the world to me. When his squeals died down some, I cradled him in my arms and rocked him back and forth. He really hadn't changed much since I'd seen him a week or so ago, but I marveled at how much he'd grown since I'd given birth to him. He was so tiny that day, and now he was such a big boy.
The last time he was here, he tried using his teeny toddler-sized spoon to feed himself. He didn't quite have the coordination to bring the spoon to his mouth and threw it down in a hangry fit. Maggie joked that his hangry was inherited from me. I ignored her cackling and focused on how impressive it was that he even tried to use the spoon.
New tears threatened to fall when I thought about how fast he was growing up. He would be able to feed himself soon… He'd eventually be too big for me to cradle. I very much looked forward to discovering the world with him over the years, but I wished I could freeze time and live in this moment just a little while longer.
Concerned by his sneeze from earlier, I placed my hand against his forehead to check his temperature.
"He's not getting sick is he?" I asked Rick, who was still standing by the door.
"Nah, shouldn't be. He wasn't sneezin' yesterday." He unzipped the diaper bag, pulled out a blanket and brought it to me. "He has this if you think he needs it."
"Thanks," I said, taking the blanket from him. "I think he's ok for now."
I'm not sure how long I spent rocking Nugget and staring into his blue eyes, but eventually I looked up at Rick. He was on the other side of the living room, leaning against the wall and watching us. I silently told him I was ready to listen if he was ready to talk.
Carl smiled brightly and clapped his hands when Rick pushed the ottoman at the other end of the couch in front of me and sat down on it. Rick returned Carl's smile and gave his tummy a quick rub.
When he brought his eyes to mine, his smile faded.
Rick's eyes looked troubled; his face looked tired. The past two weeks appeared to have been difficult for him too.
"Michonne, I'm an asshole."
"Language!" I whispered sharply, glancing down at Nugget.
It really seemed like Glenn and I were the only ones who cared about Nugget not having a potty mouth.
"I'm an a-hole," he amended.
I stared at him, unimpressed with his self-discovery.
"And I'm sorry… Your happiness is one of the most important thangs in the world to me."
And those were the words that fueled my anger.
"Richard Arthur Grimes," I said as calmly as possible. "F-U-C-K Y-O-U."
"Mich-"
"No! When you were supposed to care about my happiness, what did you say?" I didn't wait for him to answer. "You said, 'I can't.' That's how important my happiness was to you!"
Nugget pulled himself up using my cardigan and looked back and forth between me and Rick.
"Clab gerby dof mush dob tee!"
He put his hand between my lips and giggled, waiting for me to start nibbling. I removed his hand and gave his palm a kiss.
"Not right now, sweetie."
He grunted, snatched his hand from mine and put it back in between my lips.
I removed it again.
"Carl," I said sternly.
He pouted and leaned his body into mine. When I didn't think he could look any cuter, he rested his head on my shoulder and started sucking his thumb.
"Is his walker still in the hall closet?" Rick asked.
I nodded, and he got up, squeezing my knee. Once Nugget was happily toddling around in his dinosaur-themed walker, Rick sat down next to me.
"Rick," I said with a warning in my voice.
He got up and moved to the far end of the couch.
Nugget pushed the button on his walker that made a roaring dinosaur sound, and he laughed in that borderline delirious way that only babies can get away with. I couldn't stop myself from smiling.
And then Rick spoke.
"I understand," he said quietly. "I understand what you gave up by stayin' with us after Carl was born."
I scoffed and crossed my arms. "I don't think you do."
"I do," he insisted. "Grateful doesn't even skim the surface of how I feel, but I'm grateful for everythang you've done for Carl and me. When I was a mess-"
"Was?" I questioned.
"When I was a mess," he continued, "you kept me grounded. You kept me sane. And you were right… you did take care of Carl when I couldn't. That means everythang to me. I'm here because of you, Michonne. Me and Carl both are."
I kept my eyes on Nugget.
"And yeah, you're right… I'm still kind of a mess-"
"Kind of?"
"I'm still kind of a mess," he continued, "but I've been thinkin' about thangs… really thinkin' about thangs, and I don't want to be a mess anymore. I owe Carl that. I owe you that."
He got up from his end of the couch and returned to his seat on the ottoman in front of me. When I wouldn't look at him, he gently nudged my knee with his.
"What?" I grumbled, looking at him.
"I understand why you have to take a step back. I understand why you had to move out. I understand-"
I rolled my eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. "Where was all of this understanding two weeks ago?"
"I screwed up, Michonne," he said with remorse. "I'm sorry."
"That you most certainly are," I retorted.
Rick stared at me a beat and heavily exhaled. "If you want me to leave, if you need space, then I'll go. Whatever you need me to do to get us back to us, I'll do it."
Disappointment spread across his face when he read the look on mine, knowing what I was about to say.
"I think it's best if you leave, Rick."
He averted his eyes, nodded slowly and stood. "Do you… um, do you wanna spend the day with Carl?"
As surprised as I was by the offer, it took me no time at all to respond. "Yes! I do. If that's ok with you…"
"It is. Of course it is, Michonne."
I jumped up, gathered Nugget from his walker and stood in front of Rick. "I'll bring him back to your house this evening?"
"That's fine," he said softly.
I felt disheartened by our continued disconnect, but the thought of spending most of the day with Nugget eased some of that dismay. I offered Rick a small smile of appreciation.
He took my hand and gave it a squeeze.
"Gee bee doh prutz frug," Nugget babbled.
Rick gave him a kiss goodbye on top of his head. "See ya later, son. Be good."
"Rick?" I called out when he was about to open the front door.
He turned around and faced me.
"What did Daryl and Gleggie say to you?" I asked.
He looked at me blankly.
"When the three of them called you yesterday," I clarified.
"Oh… They left a voicemail. A very long, very confusin' voicemail. Maggie was goin' on about custody battles and visitation rights… They were all talkin' at the same time… It was too hard to follow, so I stopped listenin' about halfway through."
I stared at him in confusion. "Then what made you come over this morning?"
"Carl. You," he said without giving my question any thought. "This is his last day before turnin' one. How could he not spend it with you? Besides that, I'd rather be here with you shootin' daggers at me than alone with my head stuck up my ass."
He gave me a melancholy smile and reached for the doorknob.
"Rick," I called out.
"Yes, Michonne?" he whispered, gripping the doorknob.
Forgiveness wouldn't magically make all the anger and hurt disappear and it wouldn't make me forget Rick's I can't, but finding out that he made the choice on his own to be here added hope to my mix of emotions. And if I was being honest with myself, Rick wasn't the only one in our co-partnership to make missteps over the last year.
I had no idea what new shape our friendship was going to take, but I knew we both would be willing to figure that out together.
"Are you hungry?" I asked.
Rick noticeably sighed in relief before turning toward me. "I could eat."
"Then let's eat."
"Eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms, spinach, cheese and ham cubes for the omelettes, right?" Rick asked.
"Yes. And I don't want ham chunks, Rick. I want nice bite-sized cubes in my omelette."
"Got it."
"And I want the mushrooms thinly sliced and the tomatoes finely diced."
"Got it. Sliced and diced."
"And make sure you rinse the spinach. I know the bag says pre-washed but… What?" I asked when I saw the expression on his face.
"Do you want to make the omelettes and I'll make the pancakes?"
"No," I said, scoffing as I stirred the pancake batter. "Why?"
"No reason," he said with a shake of his head.
"And add a splash of milk to the eggs when you make the omelettes."
Rick mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like "so bossy," but I ignored him and added cinnamon to my batter. While he focused on chopping and sautéing his ingredients and I focused on dropping pancakes on the griddle, we fell into a silence that landed somewhere between strained and comfortable.
"How's this?" he asked.
I was pleased with his piles of cubed ham and sliced mushrooms, but I was too overcome with emotion to give my seal of approval. Rick stopped dicing the tomatoes and looked at me.
"Michonne?" he asked with concern.
"I..."
That was all I could utter before the lump in my throat stopped me from saying anything else. I looked up at Rick and finally allowed myself to cry over what I thought was our lost friendship.
"Come here," he said, pulling me into a hug.
He wrapped his arms around me as my tears dampened the crook of his neck.
"It felt like I couldn't breathe without you," he whispered in my ear. "I was so scared that you'd hate me. So scared that I ruined us."
I cried harder, and he held onto me tighter.
As my tears began to subside, I tried to pull away, but Rick wouldn't let me go. He kept one arm wrapped around my waist and cupped my face with his free hand, using his thumb to wipe away the last of my tears.
"I won't hurt you like that again," he promised. "Ever."
He moved his hand from my face to wrap both his arms around my waist and pull me close. I wrapped my arms around his neck and enjoyed our closeness.
"Michonne?" he said softly after a few minutes.
"Hmmm?"
"Can I ask you somethin'?"
I slightly pulled away to look into his eyes.
He looked me up and down.
"Why are you dressed like a crazy person?"
I rolled my eyes and tried to wriggle free from him, but he laughed and tightened his hold on me.
"I'll have you know this is what love looks like, Rick Grimes," I said with all the dignity a person wearing a beige cashmere cardigan over a cat's meow-themed pajama set with shiny, black rainboots could muster.
My only concern earlier was getting to Nugget. I didn't care what I looked like.
"Carl's a lucky kid," Rick said with the biggest smile.
We looked over at Nugget, who was having a very animated conversation with the dinosaur head on his walker. I grinned at the adorable sight and glanced at Rick, whose love for his son shined brightly on his face.
"Yeah, he's a lucky kid," I agreed. "And anyways, you're the one who looks crazy," I retorted, staring at his beard.
It had grown fuller and thicker over the last two weeks and was a few days away from looking completely unkempt.
"Just tryin' somethin' new. You don't like it?" he asked, searching my eyes.
"It's definitely different, but I guess the mountain man look works on you," I said, giving his beard a gentle tug.
"I know it does," he replied with an arrogant smirk.
I rolled my eyes and let out an exaggerated exasperated sigh. "Are you going to let me go? My pancakes are burning."
"You were gonna burn those thangs anyways," he teased as he let me go. "You always burn your pancakes."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I grumbled, smiling as I flipped my slightly burned pancakes.
When we were done cooking, Rick and I sat down to eat at the dining room table. Because my condo had an open floor plan, we were able to keep watchful eyes on Nugget as he toddled around.
"He missed you, you know," Rick said to me. "Looked around for you every day, but it was pretty much impossible to explain to an eleven-month-old why you weren't there."
"I bet. Although it was pretty much impossible for me to understand your behavior, and I'm grown."
I glanced at Nugget.
Guilt dug itself deep into my heart because he needed me and I wasn't there.
"Yeah, ok, I deserve that," Rick acknowledged, bringing a forkful of his omelette to his mouth. "I think he knew it was my fault," he said after he chewed and swallowed. "He projectile pooped a few nights ago. Got me good."
"What?" I asked in surprise. "He hasn't done that in months."
"I know. That's why I believe it was a planned attack," he said before stuffing his mouth with half a pancake.
I threw my head back and laughed.
"It's not that funny, Michonne," he deadpanned with a full mouth.
"It kind of is," I told him through a chuckle.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he grumbled. "Poop was all over everythang. My shirt, my hair, two walls, the ceilin'..."
I rolled my eyes at his exaggeration. "It was not on the walls and the ceiling."
"It was! I had to get the ladder to clean it," he maintained, which made me start laughing all over again.
And then I was just laughing because the act of laughing felt so good. It had been too long since I felt this good. Nugget may have brought color back into my life, but Rick had a way of making those colors dance.
"You done laughin' at me?" he asked, pushing his empty plate to the side.
"I am!" I answered jovially.
Rick sat back in his chair, and although he tried to look offended, he couldn't stop lips from curling up in a smile.
"So, I figured somethin' out," he said, watching me pour more syrup on the last of my pancakes.
"Oh yeah?"
"Mmhm. It's a reason I didn't want you to leave."
I used my fork to drag a triangle of pancake through syrup, trying to decide if I was ready to have this serious conversation right now.
"If you don't want to talk about it..."
I ate the last of my pancakes and pushed my plate to the side. "What did you figure out, Rick?"
He took a deep breath and clasped his hands together on the table. "Lori left because somethin'... somethin' must be wrong with me on some level, right?" He kept his eyes cast down. "If she couldn't bear to be around me… not even for her child... part of that has to be on me."
I didn't think it was possible for me to hate Lori any more than I already did until those words came out Rick's mouth.
"I was scared to do it alone, Michonne. I still am. What if I'm not good enough? What if I'm not enough for Carl? I wasn't for Lori."
I'd never stopped to think about the lasting impact of Lori's actions on Rick.
Maybe I should have.
She was his first and only love. She was the only one he'd ever been with romantically and sexually. She was the woman he shared a marital intimacy with for fifteen years.
Lori hadn't just left their family. She left Rick's sense of identity and his confidence battered as well.
I reached across the table and covered his hands. "Rick, Lori leaving has everything to do with Lori and her issues. Not you. Not Carl. You have no reason to be scared."
Self-doubt remained etched on his face.
"And don't ever think you weren't good enough for her. She was the one who wasn't good enough for you."
"I'm tryin' to get there, Michonne."
"You will."
I realized he needed to be able to talk about these feelings and thoughts with someone as they came up, but I despised Lori too much to be able to always listen.
"I can't be the one to help you work through Lori issues," I told him, "but if you need someone to talk to… professionally, I mean… I can help with that."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," I said, nodding. "Mika meets with someone once a week. Sasha Washington? Willis? Williams? I'll get her information from Mika for you on Monday," I offered.
He didn't seem too keen on the idea of meeting with a therapist, but he didn't seem completely resistant to it either.
"You don't have to call Sasha, Rick. In case you ever want to, you can."
I watched his face carefully as he considered what I was saying.
"And you know you're a great father, don't you? You had a rocky start but look at how far you've come."
"I know, Michonne, but-"
"There's no but, Rick. Look at Carl," I ordered. "Look at him. He's healthy, he's happy, he still has all his limbs, he still has freckles coming in..."
Rick chuckled lightly. "Yeahhhhhh, but you make me better, Michonne. Without you, without us doin' what we do together, I feel a little lost."
It pained me to say what we both knew was coming, but there was no way around it if we were redefining our friendship and the roles we played in each other's lives.
"Rick, I'll always support you and Carl. Always. But I can't be your safety net anymore… I can't be your co-partner. You have to be the one who steps up now as Carl's parent, as his father. You have to learn how to not feel lost without me."
"I know," he said in a quiet voice.
"You know or you will?"
"I will," he answered with resolve.
"Good. And don't feel so bad… Nugget's the first kid. You always screw up with the first kid, right?"
"That is true. The first kid is the practice kid."
"Second time around, we'll have this in the bag," I joked.
"We will," he said with a big smile. "Thank you, Michonne. Always."
I grinned at him, in spite of growing a little teary-eyed. "Don't think this means you're in the clear, Grimes. You're still on my list," I said, sniffling.
"I know, I know," he grumbled. "But thank you all the same."
After we finished breakfast, I changed out of my crazy lady outfit and into workout shorts and a t-shirt. Since I still had the pair of pajama bottoms Rick gave me after the Jessie-Lori fiasco, I gave those to him to put on so he could get comfortable too. We were sitting on the couch watching the Pasión de los Cuerpos marathon, which was leading to the season finale that evening, but most of my attention had been focused on Nugget napping in my arms.
"How is it that you're even awake right now?" I quietly asked Rick. "Didn't you work last night?"
He suddenly looked a little guilty.
I raised an eyebrow and silently told him to spill the beans.
"I didn't tell you somethin'," he said. "That week you were recoverin' from your sprained ankle, I was offered a role in the trainin' department at the Academy… Drivin' instructor. I just started Monday."
"What!" I screamed in excitement, causing Nugget to stir in his sleep.
Rick and I held our breaths. As much as I loved my little Nugget, he turned into a demon baby if he was woken up prematurely—another trait Maggie said he inherited from me.
"Rick, that's amazing!" I said in a much quieter voice once I was certain Nugget was still soundly sleeping.
Rick blushed from my praise.
"That's the perfect job for you too. Do you like it so far?"
"I do," he answered with a bright smile. "It's only been a week, but I love trainin' future deputies. I feel like I have more of a purpose now than when I was on desk duty."
I nodded in understanding. I knew he hated desk duty.
"And the hours are great. First shift, Monday through Friday. Gettin' to be home with Carl at night is nice."
"That's great, Rick. Congratulations!" I cheered in a hushed voice. "I can't believe we didn't think of that job for you first."
I was genuinely happy for Rick. I was. But I also couldn't help feeling a little annoyed. He'd achieved this success, but he hadn't shared it with me and we hadn't celebrated it together. All because he was being an asshole.
"Who's watching Nugget in the daytime?" I asked, brushing aside my annoyance.
"Beth is until I can find a good daycare. Maggie gave me a list of 'em, so I've been researchin' those."
And just like that, my annoyance was back.
Maggie and Beth knew about Rick's promotion when I didn't? I guess I couldn't really blame Maggie and Beth for that. Neither Rick nor I told them we weren't speaking, so they probably assumed I already knew.
"I never did ask Maggie why she had a list of daycares," Rick said more to himself than to me. "But I've narrowed the list down to two of 'em if you wanted to look 'em over? Then we can decide on the best option for Carl… If that's somethin' you'd want to do…"
"Absolutely."
I would do more than just look the daycares over. I'd know everything about the history and staffing of them before Nugget was enrolled in one of them.
I let out a wistful sigh and focused on Nugget's sleeping face. Life seemed to have gone on spectacularly for Rick while I plodded around in a sad stupor.
He had a new job…
Nugget was about to start daycare…
I couldn't help but wonder what else had happened in the last two weeks that I didn't know about.
"Talk to me," Rick said, pulling me from my thoughts. "You're upset."
"It's nothing that can be changed, so it's not worth discussing," I grumbled.
Rick stared at me.
I stared back.
He grinned, scooted closer and put his arms around my shoulders. "You're adorable when you pout."
"I am a grown woman, Richard. I do not pout," I retorted, rolling my eyes.
"Of course you don't," he said teasingly. When I didn't respond, he sighed. "I was barely functionin' that first week without you, Michonne. Thangs got better this past week because my work hours changed, but only a little better."
When I still didn't respond, he gently cupped my chin with his thumb and forefinger and turned my face toward him.
"Besides me gettin' a new job and growin' this beard, the only other thang that happened is me gainin' five pounds," he told me. "You left your ice cream in the freezer, and that's all I've been eatin'. For breakfast and dinner. You didn't miss anythang else."
I looked him up and down, trying to figure out where the five pounds went.
"So what you're telling me is that Carl pooped on you and you got fat while we weren't talking?" I asked.
He let go of my chin, rolled his eyes and gave me a kiss on the side of my head. "I don't like how happy that makes you," he mumbled.
The poop and the weight gain did make me smile, but I was mostly just relieved that life seemed to have been as hollow for Rick as it had been for me.
"You wanna keep watchin' the show?" he asked.
"I do," I said, relaxing next to him.
We watched Pasión de los Cuerpos for a few more hours and couldn't wait for the season finale!
"Maria turned into a stone-cold bee-yatch once she found out her biological father was a billionaire oil tycoon. She was such a sweetie pie when she was goat herding," I commented.
When Rick didn't agree, I looked at him.
"Language," he said smugly.
I thought about what I'd just said and scoffed. "Bee-yatch? Please. That doesn't count."
"Ok, then if I say uh-sole instead of asshole, I won't be reprimanded by you?"
"Seriously, Rick? You just said 'asshole' in front of Carl again! We need to start a swear jar."
Rick looked at Nugget and scoffed. "He's fine. He's asleep. You never answered my question. Is uh-sole acceptable?"
"No. That's ridiculous. No one says uh-sole. People say bee-yatch."
He laughed out loud. "That's your argument?"
"Yes. And it's a good one."
"Uh huh. So you're ok with Carl sayin' bee-yatch this and bee-yatch that when he starts talkin'?"
I wasn't, but Rick didn't need to know that.
He laughed again. "I don't think you should be in charge of the swear jar."
"Then stop swearing around my innocent little Nugget and we won't need one."
"Seriously, Michonne? You were the one who swore first!"
I gave him a look to tell him we were starting a swear jar, and he laughed again. "Sheesh. Two weeks' worth of bossy is just burstin' at the seams."
"Whatever, Rick," I said, fighting a smile.
"Hey, what should we order for the finale? Take-out from Don Pablo's?"
Don Pablo's sounded like a delicious idea, until I remembered something… or rather someone.
Mike.
I had a couch date with Mike tonight. He and I had plans to watch the finale together.
"Not a fan of Don Pablo's anymore?" Rick asked, seeing my uneasiness.
"No, it's not that. It's just…"
"Oh." Rick's face fell. "Sorry," he said, sitting up straight and removing his arm from around my shoulders. "I figured… I just thought we were ok. I'll get outta here before the finale, give you more time to-"
"Rick, it's not that either. We're good. But I, uh, I already have plans to watch the finale tonight. With Mike. Kind of a date night."
Dramatic music played from the tv as Maria's limo pulled up to her family's farm.
"Oh yeah? A date night," Rick said, sounding unimpressed.
We stared at the tv.
"So, how are thangs goin'? With Mike?"
"Ok," I answered. "He's been on a business trip all week."
"Hm. Just ok? Well, ok."
We watched Maria slap her goat herding half-sister Ana Sofia and then order her henchmen to take the family's prized goat.
"What do you mean by 'just ok'?" I asked, turning to look at him.
"Nuthin'. I just thought thangs would at least be goin' great by now. Ok is just ok."
"Ok, Rick," I murmured, growing uncomfortable with the conversation.
"I almost feel bad for him," Rick continued, although his tone of voice indicated otherwise. "You're at an 'ok', but from how he was actin' at the steakhouse, he's found the woman of his dreams."
I didn't say anything, hoping he would take the hint and let the conversation die.
He didn't.
"Michonne, what exactly are you doin' with this guy?"
"What do you mean? I'm dating him. I'm getting to know him. I'm figuring out if he could be the one."
Rick scoffed. "You know he's not the one."
"I said I'm figuring out if he could be," I repeated slowly, feeling agitated. "He and I haven't had a chance to date like a normal couple until now, in part because of you. So maybe you shouldn't be so quick to write him off."
"Ok, Michonne," Rick said with a dramatic eye roll.
"You don't even know him!"
"I met him once. That was enough. But go ahead, tell me what's so great about him."
It was my turn to scoff. "I don't have to prove anything to you."
"You can'ttell me what's so great about him or you don't want to?" he pressed.
"Drop it, Rick."
"It seems to me that if he was so perfect, you'd be able to-"
"Rick, in three years I'll be forty. Four. Zero. I want someone special. I don't want to be alone forever. And Mike? He could be that someone special. I'm just trying to figure that out."
Rick's face softened. "Is Carl's crib still in your bedroom closet?" he asked, standing up.
I protectively held onto my sleeping Nugget. "Maybe," I answered suspiciously.
He found the crib and set it up in my room. After convincing me to let Nugget finish his nap in it, he sat down next to me and put his arm around me again.
"You'll find your someone special, ok?"
I rolled my eyes. "You're obligated to say that. It's your duty as my friend."
"But I mean it. You will," he insisted.
"How do you know?" I asked in a quiet voice.
"Michonne, you gave me the most special person in my life. I have no doubt in my mind that you'll find what you're lookin' for. You're too amazin' not to... And if Mike ends up bein' that person, then I really do wish you both all the happiness in the world."
"Thanks, Rick," I whispered, resting my head on his shoulder.
I wasn't sure why I felt compelled to ask about Lori, especially since his past responses led to heated discussions or full-blown arguments, but I was asking.
"Do you still have feelings for her?"
Rick rested his head on top of mine.
"If she popped up tomorrow, I honestly don't know how I'd feel… She's still my wife. She's Carl's mother. I just don't know, Michonne. I'm still sortin' through thangs."
My gut reaction was to start debating with him over the use of "wife" and "mother." After that, I wanted to know how he could possibly feel anything except disgust for someone who had him questioning his worth as a husband and as a father. But I recognized how big of a step it was for Rick not to defend her and not to throw love into the conversation, so I'd keep my mouth shut this one time.
"Can I tell you somethin' you probably don't wanna know?" he asked.
"Go ahead. If I say no, you'll tell me anyways. What is it?"
"I really, really miss haircuts," he admitted.
I actually lifted my head from his shoulder to look at his hair before I realized what he meant.
Oh.
Haircuts.
And then the disturbing image of Rick and Lori engaging in "haircuts" with each other popped into mind.
"What's that look?" Rick asked with a laugh.
"I guess I never thought of Lori as being good at… haircuts."
"Lori had some moves," he said, smiling a little too fondly at some memory of Lori.
I felt what I could only describe as a simultaneous need to both vomit and break something. I shook that off to inform Rick of something.
"Mike has moves too."
We stared at each other, daring each other to share something else.
"I don't wanna hear about you and Mike naked, Michonne."
"I don't want to hear about you and Lori naked," I snapped back.
"Fine."
"Great."
We sat in a tense silence until Rick poked me in my side. I ignored him until he poked me again.
"What, Rick?"
"We probably shouldn't talk about stuff and thangs."
"You think?" I asked sarcastically, still disturbed by the thought of him and Lori doing stuff and things. "And no one calls it 'stuff and thangs.' You can be such a child, Rick," I said with an air of haughtiness, but I did think it was cute he phrased it that way.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he grumbled with a smile.
We went back to staring at the tv. I didn't know about Rick, but I wasn't really watching.
"'Chonne… With this guy, with Mike... don't settle. It's ok if he's not the one," he said, clearly not watching tv either. "Just don't try to make somethin' happen between you."
"I wouldn't. I won't," I promised.
"Good. And hey, maybe we should consider makin' one of those pacts in case you're not with anyone on your fortieth…"
I laughed. "You're a little late. I already made a pact with Daryl."
He stared at me a beat and frowned. "I didn't realize you two were plannin' on bein' together like that."
"It's not really a plan to be together like that. It's more like a plan to not be alone. I pretty much had to force Daryl to agree to it anyways. You know how he is."
Rick looked like he was seconds away from an eye squint and a head tilt.
"Stop," I said, rolling my eyes. "We made the pact on my thirtieth birthday… after Aaron had his realizations and broke up with me. Daryl is my desperate and lonely option."
Rick still looked bothered, though I couldn't understand why.
"You were married. I wasn't going to make the pact with you. And would you really want me and Lori in a Big Love situation?" I joked.
Rick looked as if he was considering it.
"Rick," I huffed in disbelief.
"Ok, I guess that wouldn't work. Besides, you'd kinda be like sloppy seconds if you went from a pact with Daryl to a pact with me. I have standards," he said with a straight face.
Sloppy seconds?
Before he could stop me, I jumped on him and started tickling him.
When we were kids, I would turn into a tickle torturing machine if Daryl or I wanted something from Rick. Daryl and I wouldn't bat an eye when it came to being tickled. But Rick? He broke every time.
"Stop, stop! You'll wake up Carl!" he shouted between bursts of laughter.
I gave him a brief reprieve from the tickling. "Take it back, Rick. I'm not sloppy seconds. Admit it."
"I don't think I will," he said smugly while grinning and panting. "And I think I have the advantage now, Michonne."
Stopping my tickle attack had left me in a vulnerable position. Although I'd pushed Rick onto his back and was sitting on his stomach, he was able to easily grab my wrists and hold them in place. Rick restrained people for a living—he had the upper hand. I had no choice but to resort to the only thing I could think of.
"What are doin'?" he asked as I inched closer to his face with my tongue out. "Michonne," he said warily, jerking his head away from me, "are you tryin' to lick my face?"
I laughed and then tried to lick his face.
"Truce! Truce!" he yelled.
"Sshhh. You'll wake up Carl," I teased.
"Truce!" he whispered fiercely.
"Let go of my wrists," I said smugly.
He let them go, and I instantly became aware of how I was lying directly on top of him.
Because I'd learned long ago that things were only awkward if you made them awkward, I decided to carry on as if our bodies weren't pressed together.
"We made a pact, but Daryl and I would never..."
"I know," he said, bringing his hands to my waist.
"He and I have never..." I said, staring at his lips.
"I know," he whispered as his grip on my waist ever so slightly tightened.
"Good," I breathed out.
And then I tickled him one last time for good measure and moved off of him. I headed to the kitchen because I wasn't sure what else to do. I needed some breathing room. I felt a little flushed.
"Did you know that Daryl has a new lady friend?" I asked as I grabbed a glass from a cabinet.
I held my breath, waiting for his answer, hoping that things hadn't become awkward.
"I did not," he eventually replied.
I let out my breath and filled the glass with cold water from the fridge.
"I heard her when Daryl called me yesterday. He got real tight-lipped about her too, but she's supposed to be at Nugget's party," I told him, walking back to the couch.
When I saw that Rick was completely stretched out on it, I kneed a cushion.
"Move," I said.
He sat up without complaint, and I sat down next to him, making sure to leave space between us. I held my water out, but he shook his head, so I took a long sip.
"Can I tell you something you already know?" I asked.
Rick gave me a curious look.
"I really, really hate arguing with you."
"So let's stop arguin'," was his quick response.
"What a novel idea. I wish I had thought of that sooner," I deadpanned, putting the glass down.
He grinned and poked me in the side. "Smart A-S-S."
"So how do we just stop arguing, oh wise one?"
"Well… you did stalk and threaten a new mother because she had a crush on me. So, I don't know, maybe if you didn't do thangs like that we wouldn't argue?" he suggested.
"Wow. Stalk and threaten. Ok. Well… you did throw a tantrum like a little boy and refuse to eat a sixty-dollar steak that you didn't even have to pay for. So, I don't know, maybe if you didn't do things like that we wouldn't argue?"
"I'll take that under advi-"
"And maybe you shouldn't deal with people who have nicknames like Thirsty Gymboree Ho," I added.
"In case you forgot, you are currently dating a man nicknamed Panty Man," he retorted. "Panty. Man."
I rolled my eyes as he laughed.
"Panty Man and Thirsty Gymboree Ho. It's like a terrible superhero duo," he said, laughing even harder.
"So immature," I mumbled, choking back my own laughter.
"Ok, ok" he said, holding his pinky up. "Let's make the very unrealistic promise to never fight again."
I reached over and locked my pinky with his. "Deal."
We held onto each other's pinkies and looked into each other's eyes.
"I really missed you, Michonne."
"I really missed you too, Rick."
The sound of my phone ringing woke me up from a very deep sleep.
I yawned, rubbed my eyes and looked around. Rick was sitting up and snoring on the other end of the couch and another episode of Pasión de los Cuerpos was playing on tv. It looked like we just missed the episode where Javier revealed he had a bionic hand.
Damn.
I swung my feet out of Rick's lap and stood up to stretch. My phone, which was on the dining room table, stopped ringing, but a gurgle coming from the bedroom made me forget all about my phone.
"Nugget, what are you doing in here?" I asked, picking him up out of his crib.
"Bre shaw dit no jojo."
I melted at his gibberish. "I can't wait until you speak real words," I cooed in a baby voice before kissing him on his chubby cheeks.
He giggled and left a slobbery kiss on my chin. Since Rick had fed him lunch when I started dozing off, I checked to see if he needed a diaper change.
He most definitely did. But at least it didn't smell like he made a poopy.
"Let's get you a new diaper," I whispered to him.
As I was walking to his diaper bag in the living room, my phone started ringing. Now that I was wide awake, I recognized the ringtone.
Mike was calling.
"Hi, Mike!"
"Good afternoon, Michonne. I was worried you weren't available."
Nugget was desperately trying to grab my phone from me. The determined look on his little face made me want to toss the phone aside and shower him with kisses.
"I'm home and available, just a little preoccupied," I told Mike.
"Ahhhh… Hopefully, you've been preoccupied with thoughts of me?"
I dodged Nugget's hand and grinned when he giggled.
"You've crossed my mind," I answered truthfully, "but Rick and Carl also stopped by. I've been spending some time with them."
"I see," he replied dryly.
I put Nugget on the couch, knowing he would be more interested in crawling to Rick than trying to grab my phone.
"I'm calling with unexpectedly delightful news," Mike announced, sounding more spirited. "My business trip was a great success and concluded earlier than anticipated. As such, I was able to board an earlier flight home. It's my hope that you will accompany me to dinner before our couch date this evening."
Rick jolted awake after Nugget crawled into his lap and started pounding on his chest. I held in a laugh.
"I'd like that, Mike."
"Fantastic! Are you familiar with Blue Fish? The head chef is an old family friend. You're in store for a night of delectable sushi and premium Japanese saké, Michonne. The best in town," he raved.
"That sounds very lovely."
"Indeed. My sincerest apologies for the short notice, but would picking you up at six allow enough time for you to get ready? Although, I imagine if I stopped by at this very moment you'd already look divine."
"You're too sweet. And yes, I'll be ready at six. Don't you dare stop by a minute sooner, Mike. Despite what you think, I need time to get all gussied up."
He chuckled. "Understood. I'll see you shortly, Michonne. I presume I'll be seeing Rick and Carl as well."
I looked over at Rick, who was rubbing one of his eyes and stretching.
"Perhaps. I'll see you soon, Mike."
I ended the call and looked at the time on my phone.
4:39pm.
I barely had any time to get ready.
"You have to go, Rick."
"Kickin' us to the curb, huh?" he asked in a raspy voice. He held Nugget up to his ear. "What's that, Carl? You don't say."
I sighed and crossed my arms.
"Carl says that's stone cold, Michonne."
"Rick, I need to get ready for my date in peace. I love you both, but you need to change Nugget's diaper and leave."
"What do you think, buddy? Should we leave?" He nodded when Nugget gurgled. "I agree. Michonne, Carl thinks we should stick around."
"Rick," I groaned in exasperation.
"I'm not tryin' to be difficult. I'm really not. But it sounded like he was gonna stop by to pick you up…"
"He is," I confirmed, narrowing my eyes.
"So if I'm supportin' you and your relationship and bein' a good friend, shouldn't I get to know him better?"
"Get to know him better tomorrow," I deadpanned.
He threw me a smug smile. "You should really start gettin' ready, Michonne. You're losin' time."
He was right. I didn't have time for this. I groaned and went to my bedroom to go through my closet.
"Where are you goin' anyways?" Rick asked a few minutes later, standing in the closet doorway with Nugget. "What happened to your couch date?"
I looked at the skirts hanging in my closet, then looked at my dresses, then looked back at my skirts. I was going with a skirt tonight.
"Not that it's your business, but we're getting sushi and then coming back here."
"Sushi? For the finale of Pasión de los Cuerpos?" he asked as if that was the most ridiculous thing in the world. "I thought you wanted Don Pablo's."
"Food is food," I told him, eyeing a short, wine-colored leather skirt.
The skirt would work with a sleeveless, black turtleneck bodysuit and black heels.
"All that for sushi?" Rick asked.
"Yes, Rick." I stood in front of him in the closet doorway. "This is my sushi outfit."
Nugget reached for my face and made a kissy face. I gave him a quick kiss and then looked up at Rick.
"Take those pants off."
He turned a deep shade of red. "What?!"
"Take your pajama pants off and put your jeans back on," I ordered. I walked around him to go to my bathroom. "And change Nugget's diaper. I'm jumping in the shower."
I emerged from my room fully dressed and looking flawless at 5:50pm. Rick was feeding Nugget applesauce at the dining room table.
"Muh!" he screamed with the brightest little smile when he noticed me.
I walked into the dining area and spun around to show off my outfit. Nugget giggled and clapped.
"He certainly approves. What do you think?" I asked Rick.
He slowly looked me up and down. "All that for sushi, huh?" he asked with an easy smile.
"I know. I look amazing! Now which pair of earrings should I go with? The hoops or the studs?" I held up both types to my ears.
Rick looked me up and down again and tilted his head. "I'm not Maggie, Michonne. I'm not givin' you fashion advice. But believe me, he's not gonna notice your ears."
Something about his stare, that head tilt and the husky tone of his voice made me catch my breath. The three knocks on the front door stopped my heart from racing.
I looked at the time. Six o'clock on the dot.
Mike was here.
"Michonne, you look beautiful," he complimented after I opened the door.
"Thank you. Come in. And welcome back!"
I closed the door behind him and said a quick prayer for Rick to behave himself.
"I brought this for you," Mike said, pulling a flower from behind his back. "One long-stemmed red rose in a handblown, cranberry-tinted glass vase. The vase is one-of-a-kind, made by an artist friend of mine, per my special request."
"It's so beautiful, Mike. Thank you," I gushed, giving him a hug.
He gave me a sweet kiss on my lips.
I could feel Rick's eyes rolling. When I placed the vase on the dining room table, I ignored the very unimpressed look on his face.
"Rick," Mike said cordially.
"Mike," Rick said a lot less cordially.
Nuggets gurgles filled the silence that followed.
"And that little fellow must be Carl," Mike said.
"Yeah."
I gave Rick a warning look for that short, curt response and walked back over to Mike. I was pleased by the effort he was making to be friendly because he still had reservations about Rick.
"I'm glad you were able to cut your trip a little short."
Mike grinned and took my hand. "As am I. I missed you… very much."
Rick snorted.
I resisted the urge to rub the bridge of my nose.
Mike's jaw tensed. "I'm sorry, Rick… Did I miss something?"
"Nuthin' at all. Everythang is just ok over here," he said, looking at me.
I silently told Rick that it was time for him to leave. He silently told me he wasn't ready to do that just yet.
"Where did your business trip take you?" he asked Mike.
"Out of town," Mike answered.
"Huh. Michonne never has to go on business trips… I guess environmental law is a little different from contract law?"
"I don't care to discuss business with non-business associates, Rick. Privacy and confidentiality concerns. I'm sure you understand."
Rick stared at him hard. "Yeaaaah," he replied slowly. "I'm sure I do."
"I expect tomorrow should be quite the day for both you and Carl. I look forward to being a part of it," he said, wrapping his arm around my waist. "We both do."
Rick attempted to smile politely but ended up squinting at Mike instead. "I think me and Carl should probably head out… leave you two to your night."
"Sounds like a wonderful idea," Mike replied.
Before Rick could tilt his head to the side, I pulled away from Mike. "Why don't you sit down for a few minutes while I help Rick pack up and see him out."
"Of course." He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll be seeing you, Rick," he added with a smirk.
I was waiting with Rick and Nugget for the elevator to get to my floor, and I was highly annoyed.
"What was that? I thought you were supposed to be getting to know him?"
"I tried," Rick claimed.
"That was you trying, Rick?"
"Yep. But he's still an uh-sole, and I still don't like him."
I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes. "I don't want any drama at Nugget's first birthday," I warned.
Rick sighed and lightly tugged on a few of my locs. "Your boyfriend has a bad attitude, Michonne, but I'll try harder. For you. And tomorrow's gonna be a perfect, drama-free day, so you can stop glarin' at me now."
I didn't stop glaring.
"Richard Arthur Grimes, if you messed up my hair, I will hurt you. This french braid wrap took too long. Now give me my precious little Nugget," I demanded.
He scoffed. "Your hair's fine."
I took Nugget from him and held him out in front of me, just as I had earlier this morning. I wanted to get one last look at him as an eleven-month-old. When he put his tiny hand between my lips and looked at me with wide eyes, I gave him what he wanted and nibbled away.
The sound of his laughter was such beautiful music to my ears.
I gave him a kiss, leaving an imprint of my lips on his forehead from my deep burgundy lipstick, and I tried not to get emotional as I held him close. This was the last time I would hold him like this before he turned one.
"Birthdays are a good thang, Michonne. Don't start cryin' on me," Rick said softly, pulling me into a side hug.
"I know. I'll be ok," I whispered. "I just love him so much, Rick... I love you so much, Nugget."
Nugget looked thrilled that we were all so close together and tried to hug and kiss both me and Rick. I laughed and gave him another kiss, leaving an imprint of my lips on his cheek this time.
"Thank you for coming by today," I said to Rick, handing Nugget back to him.
"Thank you for lettin' me in," he said with a smile that lit up his face.
When the elevator dinged, he leaned in and gave me a kiss on my cheek.
"Enjoy yourself tonight. And remind me to take you out for sushi some time," he whispered in my ear.
I laughed off his silliness when he stepped back to take another look at my outfit and then watched my little Grimes family step onto the elevator.
"Hey!" I shouted, stopping the doors with my foot before they could close completely.
Rick and Nugget both looked at me with the same surprised face.
"Did you need me to get to Hershel's early tomorrow to help set up?" I asked.
"Nah, you and Mike can get there around noon with the other guests," Rick replied.
Something about being lumped into the other guests category felt wrong, but I nodded.
"Ok, then. See you tomorrow, Rick."
"Bye, Michonne."
I took a step back and waved goodbye as the doors started closing.
"Wait!" I shouted, stopping the doors again before they could close completely.
Rick and Nugget looked amused.
"I forgot to ask... Daryl said there was something you wanted to tell me the night we were at the hospital?"
Rick's cheeks flushed and he gave me a little smile. "Another time," he suggested.
"You sure?"
"Mike's waitin' on you," he reminded me.
Rick was right. Mike was waiting.
"Another time then. I'll see you tomorrow."
"You sure?" he asked, grinning. "Anythang else?"
I shook my head and blew Nugget a kiss. And this time when the elevator doors closed, I didn't stop them.
I walked back to my condo, looking forward to the evening but also wishing it was Sunday.
A/N: Thank you for reading! Please take the time to leave a review. It's appreciated!