Dinner
was a festive affair. The adults in the room were laughing, joking, and making plans for the day ahead. Rick held Judith in his lap while she tried to take food
off his plate. He allowed her to taste some of the grease from his fork whenever
he took a bite of his fried fish, which turned out to be a mistake because she
began crying for a proper bite.
“You
can’t chew it, Sweetie,” he tried to explain. Of course she didn’t understand
chewing quite that well, but she quieted down when he gave her a jar of banana
baby food, which she found quite appealing.
True
to their word, Rick and Carl took over the dinner dishes for Daryl and Sasha, who prepared to leave with Glenn, Maggie, Abraham, and Rosita, to the TV room, all the while
arguing over what to watch.
“The Duchess,” Rosita insisted. “It’s a really good movie and it has Ralph Fiennes!”
“Oooh,
Ralph Fiennes,” Maggie said, nodding in agreement.
“Who
cares about Ralph?” Abraham asked, pronouncing the name ralf instead of rafe,
much to Rosita’s annoyance.
“Stop
being a dick, Abraham. There’s sex in it. Lots of sex,” she said, which got his
attention.
“Fine,”
he acquiesced, “but after that I wanna watch Rambo.”
That
earned groans from the others, except Daryl. Rick found himself laughing as he watched them file down
the hallway. He looked at Carl.
“I’m
not comfortable with you watching a movie like that,” Rick said. “Why don’t you
go find a book to read instead of just playing video games? I’ll finish up
here.”
“Aw,
Dad. Books are all I’ve had all this time.”
“Good
point,” he said, in the mood to spoil his son for as long as possible. “Video
games it is but be in bed by a reasonable hour tonight. We’ve got a lot to do
tomorrow with chores on the property.”
Carl
nodded and rushed off. Almost as soon as he was gone Michonne came to stand
beside him, rinsing the dishes he washed. They worked together in silence for
awhile, just enjoying being close.
“I
like how happy he is,” Rick said.
“Me
too. I’ve never seen him this joyful.”
“How
did Tara do with the animals?”
“She’s
a natural. She took to it like fish to water, actually.”
“Where
is she?” he wondered.
“Playing solitaire on the computer.”
“Computer?”
Michonne
nodded. “There’s a laptop in the office. Said she misses the Internet and the porn
she used to be able to download.”
Rick
laughed and shook his head. He regarded her for a moment. “I like seeing you
happy, too.”
She
lifted her chin, looking playfully thoughtful. “I am happier than I’ve been in
a long time.”
“Mama!”
Judith called in a demanding tone.
Without
hesitation Michonne turned to look at her. “I’ll be there in a minute, baby. I’ve
gotta help Daddy with the dishes.”
That
sounded so natural coming from her lips that Rick felt his chest tighten. She
didn’t seem to realize the affect her words had on him. She was mothering his
children. He wondered what it would be like if she started ‘wifing’ him. Images of her
climbing into that little bed with him flitted through his mind. He pushed it
away and finished the last of the cups.
With
the kitchen clean and the sink wiped down Michonne picked Judith up. She was
getting cranky and sneezy again so Michonne gave her another dose of medicine.
“There’s
a wet bar in the library,” Rick said. “It’s got some pretty good stuff. Wanna
join me for a drink?”
“Sure.
I may be able to get Judith to fall asleep.”
They
headed into the library and Rick heard the wind howling outside. He stood at
the bar and poured a couple of snifters of brandy. After pressing his face to
the window he could see it wasn’t snowing but the wind was up. He wondered if
there was anyone living out there, desperately trying to keep warm in the
freezing cold. He hoped that whatever survivors were in that wind and cold had what they needed and would be okay.
He
closed the curtains up tight and settled on the overstuffed sofa. Michonne had
put Judith down on the loveseat, surrounded her with pillows to keep her from
rolling, and then came toward him.
“You’re
limping again,” he noted.
“I
thought the cold would help with the swelling. It did but it still hurts.”
“You
need to stay off that foot,” Rick said, handing her the brandy. “I don’t want
you to do permanent damage.”
“Yes,
sir!” she joked, and sipped brandy. “Mmmm…”
“I
know. Quality booze. They must have been the first to loot the local liquor
store considering some of the high price drinks they’ve got in that bar,” he
said. He tapped his leg when he saw she was rubbing at her ankle.
“What?”
“Give
me your foot.”
She
stretched her leg out. He wished she was in those shorts instead of her pants
so he could see all that smooth, flawless skin that graced every inch of her
body, but he’d wait until later tonight for a glimpse of that. He gently
massaged her ankle, hoping she forgot her clothes again before she took her
shower so she’d have to come out in nothing but a towel again, her body
dripping wet.
“Rick?”
“Huh?”
he asked, feeling embarrassed. She’d been saying his name if the amused look on
her face was anything to go by, while he'd sat there picturing the towel drop and him getting a full view of her body.
“I
said what about security? The curtains here are heavy. Tara and I could barely
see any light coming from them on our way back and we were close. I don’t think
anyone will be able to see the lights on from any distance but if they happen
to wander down one of these mountains…”
“Right,”
he said, disappointed that Michonne wanted to talk business. He was hoping to
talk about anything else, but this was familiar territory for them. It was
safe. The thing is, he didn’t want to just play it safe. “Well, We’re going to
have to man the towers at some point. Two people a night. I know it’s cold but
we’ve got winter gear that’ll keep us warm when we’re out there.”
She
nodded in agreement and tossed back the rest of her brandy.
“Want
another?” he asked.
“I
shouldn’t. Judy might wake up in the night and need me. I don’t want to sleep
through it.”
He
nodded. “It’s hard to learn to really relax, isn’t it? We’re always wary of
something.”
“PTSD.
We’ve all got it.”
She
was looking at Judith, who slept peacefully, though she frowned as though the
taste of the medicine Michonne had given her for her bedtime dose had invaded
her dreams. Her little mouth worked and she frowned, making Rick grin. He
watched the tender expression on Michonne’s face as she gazed at the baby.
“You’re
a natural at mothering.”
“I
had a little boy,” she said.
“You
did?” he didn’t know why he was surprised. She was so good with children. “What
was his name?”
“Andre
Anthony. He was three when…He was three,” she said, looking down at his hands
massaging the soreness from her ankle.
“I’m
sorry,” he said softly. “Tell me about him.”
He thought she would refuse, brush him off, but she didn't. She told him of her life before the turn and Rick drank in every word. When she came to the bad, to losing her son, losing her boyfriend and the other man, and how she'd used them as pets that ended up protecting her, he wanted to pull her close and hold her.
He thought she would refuse, brush him off, but she didn't. She told him of her life before the turn and Rick drank in every word. When she came to the bad, to losing her son, losing her boyfriend and the other man, and how she'd used them as pets that ended up protecting her, he wanted to pull her close and hold her.
Her
eyes came up to meet his after she finished talking. The gaze lingered a bit longer than maybe it should
have. His hands naturally wandered further up her calf and her eyes drifted
shut on a sigh that sounded as though it was fueled by more than just feelings
of comfort from a friend. He stroked his fingers over
her leg, his eyes glued to her. Her nipples hardened and he felt his breath
catch in his throat.
“Guys!”
Tara said exuberantly.
Rick
pulled back and Michonne jerked her leg away from him, both of them startled
into feeling as though they were doing something wrong when they weren’t.
Damn
it, Rick thought. What
crap timing, Tara.
“Guess
what today is?”
Rick
couldn’t care less and he didn’t think Michonne did either. Still, he asked.
“What?”
No comments:
Post a Comment