Violent Delights¹︎ | D.Dixon

1.03 ➸

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CHAPTER THREE
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          THE GRIMES HOUSEHOLD WAS BUZZING with life as Leona helped Carl set the table. She had a stack of ceramic plates cradled in her arms while she followed her nephew, who carried over the silverware. She set five spots—enough for her brother's family, herself, and Shane—and waited for Carl to put a fork, spoon, and knife down at each spot before moving on to the next placement. He set each utensil down with such a gentle precision that she couldn't help the smile that pulled at the corners of her lips. He didn't want to hurt anything, not even the silverware or the napkins he placed them on.

She grabbed the cups next, telling Carl he couldn't help because they were glass and she didn't want him to get cut if he dropped one. She asked him to move the plastic jug of juice over to the table, instead, and he agreed.

The bright atmosphere—filling the room from corner to corner with a connectedness she hadn't felt in a long time—made her shift in her seat beside Lori as she watched Rick and Shane bring the food out of the kitchen. The two men both wore wide smiles as the brisket they'd been working all day on was sliced and placed on a platter in the very center of the table, the smell mixing deliciously with the homemade macaroni and cheese and the vinegar slaw that were quickly placed in bowls around it.

Leona's mouth was watering.

Carl walked over to the table with a plastic jug of lemonade and set it down on the table, and Shane followed with some glass cups that he placed before each setting. As she and Lori both poured themselves some, Rick walked out of the kitchen with a bottle of vodka and snuck up behind them to add some to each of their drinks.

"Richard Daniel Grimes, you are sly." Lori tried to scold him, but as his familiar smirk crossed his face, she faltered, and Leona laughed at her sister-in-law.

Lori turned, sending her an incredulous look and Leona shrugged taking a sip of her drink. "You married the man, don't look at me like that."

She watched as Lori turned back to her husband, a sickly sweet grin on her face.

"Best day of my life." He told her when she made eye contact. The corners up her lips pulled up just a touch more as she pulled the man toward her by the back of his neck.

"Oh, it better have been." She spoke before pressing a kiss against his lips, then another.

"Ew!" The shout from Carl—who'd sat down across from his aunt and beside Shane—caused laughter to erupt around the room.

"Now, Carl—"

"Nope, he's right. Gross." Leona interrupted her brother, earning a chuckle from Shane, who received a pointed look from Lori, in turn.

The five of them spent the rest of the night talking about almost anything, eating away at the food the men had spent the day cooking, before putting on a movie for them to enjoy while she and Lori did what dishes they could.

It had been months since then, but it was the last time she could remember ever feeling like she was part of something real. Living on her own, doing work she loved, was rewarding, but she had hardly a thing to show for her work, and now that the dead had decided to attack the living, she knew she probably never would.