The Good Life - Chapter Four

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.

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?”

She literally bounced on her feet. “December 23^rd. Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve!”



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