Ever Since You Walked Into My Life

It was Saturday morning. Just eighteen hours after Norman had proposed to Rascal. He could see the glow in her face, the way her eyes sparkled at just the near sight of him. He'd never seen her so happy before, even when they first started dating. He felt like he'd brought a spark back to life in that woman. Something she might have lost when her father had passed away. He felt amazing, felt light on his feet, heart not so heavy anymore. He felt like a changed man, but for the better.

He replayed the night before in his mind. Replayed it over and over, actually. They'd made love countless times, in countless rooms and countless positions. He'd never seen her so alive, so full of life. It made him feel invicible, knowing he could make her feel that way. He'd been so lost in thought for the majority of the morning, he'd totally forgotten that he and Rascal intended to tell the kids that they would be getting married.

He was unsure on how Mingus would approach the situation, being that he and his mother didn't work out well in the beginning. But he trusted his son's judgement and figured that he would be more than happy for him. At least, that's how he hoped it would play out. Sammi, well, Sammi wasn't a big issue. She loved Norman. And on one special occasion she spilled to Rascal that she thought Norman was "cute". It made him blush. And laugh.

He was sitting at the island counter that morning, sipping from his extra large mug of coffee. He was waiting for Rascal to wake up. He had one more surprise in store for her. And she might not believe it, but it was priceless. It was the painting he had been working on for so long. It had been finished for a little while, but he wanted to wait until the perfect moment to show her. He just hoped that she would appreciate it as much as he. He was almost sure she would. She did love zombies.

He was almost halfway done with his cup when she staggered down the hall, hands rubbing relentlessly at her eyes. After a few early morning blinks, she found a large grin when she spotted him at the island counter. Norman was quick on his feet and met her halfway, because he had unsheathed the painting from behind it's thin sheet walls. He kissed her sweetly on the lips, tasted the minty toothpaste she used every morning on the corner of her mouth.

"Morning," she yawned.

"Morning," he took her hand gently, eyed down the ring on her finger, "I have something I wanna show you. I just made your coffee, so when you get it I'll show you your sur-"

"No more surprises," she chuckled quietly, "I don't know how much more I can handle,"

Norman smirked. A playful grin crawling along his lips, "How you feeling?"

"My legs," she shook her head, a sneaky smile rushing across her lips, "and other places. I'm sore, but I feel amazing,"

Norman pulled her in for a hug with a quiet laugh. He wouldn't admit it to her, but he was rather exhausted himself. He never realized he could still go on the way he used to at his age. But, it never did bother him. He was actually rather pleased. He followed Rascal into the kitchen, where she grabbed her large mug of coffee and followed him out to the hallway. Norman didn't hear much from her when she saw the painting, except for a surprised gasp.

She walked up to the wall sized painting, ran her fingers along the crimson reds and natural tones. She cupped a hand over her mouth, turned back to Norman with wide eyes. He shyly cradled his hands in front of his waist, rocked back and forth on his heels, "So, do you like it?"

"Like it?" Rascal turned back to the painting, quickly snapped back to Norman, "Oh, Norman, I love it. It's beautiful and gorey all in one. I look so badass,"

"Glad you like it," he looked over his painting for the first time in a long time.

He was happy with his work. Excited that he could dedicate it to someone who enjoyed the undead as much as he. He'd painted a cartoonish portrait of his fiance on the wall, an AR-15 lying easily against her shoulder, cigarette sticking out of her mouth. Rascal's Chevelle lie in the background, thick tires in the back, thinner in the front. And of course, the main idea that had come to him was scattered about. Zombies over took most of the wall, blood and slime splattered against the white wall.

He was proud of himself, but more happy that she enjoyed it so much. For nearly twenty minutes they stood at the wall, Rascal eyeballing every inch of the painting. She was beyond ecstatic, fingers tracing the rough lines of the zombies and herself, "I can't believe you did this. I'm so shocked,"

She eventually stepped away, wrapped her arms loosely over his neck. She kissed him tenderly, didn't pull away when he thought she would. Norman, with a grin, pulled her closer by the waistband of her pajama shorts. The kiss quickly escalated, but when the pounding of tiny feet came down the hallway, they were forced to seperate. Norman and Rascal met Sammi and Mingus in the kitchen, where they were instantly asking for breakfast.

"Guys, it's like eleven o' clock in the morning. It's almost lunch time," Rascal laughed, "what did you guys even do yesterday? You never sleep this late,"

"Oh, oh!" Sammi sat up on her seat and rose her hand like she was in school, "Mingus' grandma took us to a waterpark! It was so much fun!"

"Wow," Rascal peeked over to Norman and gave a small smile, "that sounds awesome. Did you guys have fun?"

"Lots," Mingus was leaning on his hand, eyes half shut and still sleepy, "but I'm still tired,"

"I bet," Norman laughed and ruffled his sons hair, "how about some eggs and toast, guys?"

"I want cereal," Mingus yawned.

"Me too," Sammi grinned.

"Alright," Norman prepared the quick breakfast for the kids and sat at the island counter.

He and Rascal had sat side by side, nerves jumpy about telling them the good news. He could only hope the kids took it well. He didn't want to have to tell them they were doing it regardless of their wishes. He took a hefty sigh, squeezed Rascal's hand under the table and said, "Okay, guys, listen up for a minute,"

Sammi and Mingus looked up from their bowls, milk dribbling out the corner of his son's mouth. Norman looked to Rascal, saw her nod in approval, "Alright, here goes I guess. Me and Rascal want to get married. What do you think?"

Sammi's spoon dropped. He figured Rascal expected that. Mingus had only gone wide eyed. Norman ran a nervous hand over his chin as he waited for their comments. He cleared his throat and asked, "Good idea?"

"I say yes!" Sammi shouted.

"Married?" Mingus asked, "Well, I have a question,"

Mingus shifted in his seat. His eyes found the counter more appealing than Norman and Rascal. Sammi looked on questioningly, so Norman reached out his hand and took his son's. Mingus looked up, eyes a little fearful in a way. Norman gave him an inquisitive look, "What's the matter, Mingus?"

"Do I have to call you Mom?" He looked over at Rascal, shoulders drooping and head lowering.

Rascal's face softened then. Norman noticed the motherly glow in her eyes as she spoke softly, "No, sweetheart. You don't have to call me Mom. It'll be just how it is now. You can keep calling me Rascal. I don't want to make you uncomfortable,"

"I just don't want my Mom to get angry," he frowned.

"Mom isn't going to be angry with you, Mingus," Norman said, "she knew that this might have happened eventually,"

"Promise?" Mingus whispered.

"We promise," Rascal smiled, "you can keep calling me Rascal and I promise that your Mom wont be mad at you,"

"She doesn't break her promises," Sammi added with a full mouth.

Mingus smiled, then. Norman sighed in relief and chuckled quietly, "Alright, so we're good, right guys?"

"When is the wedding?" Sammi grinned.

"Don't know yet," Rascal said, "but it'll be a while from now. Which reminds me,"

She stood from her seat, leaned down to kiss Norman quickly, "I have to call Sandra. Tell'er the news!"

"I'm done eating!" Sammi yelled.

"Alright, clean up and go play," Norman smiled.

He watched as Rascal walked away, house phone in hand within seconds. He sat at the table with Mingus for a few moments, reassuring him that Christine wouldn't be angry at him for being happy for Norman. He felt bad, in a sense, but after a few well chosen words, he had Mingus on his side. When his son had finished eating, Norman had taken the liberty of cleaning up the dishes. He'd finished, set them out to dry and grabbed his smokes.

He headed for the patio, where he could see Rascal pacing as she spoke to Sandra. He shook his head with a smile. They were happy now. Norman never saw himself getting married again. After Christine had dropped out of the picture, he felt crushed. He didn't want to deal with that emotion ever again. But he knew that just by meeting Rascal for the first time, he had a set goal to get to her. He didn't think he'd do it and he was still shocked with the outcome.

She was hard to reach into. He'd spent many nights thinking about what he'd done wrong when she'd stopped talking to him or stopped seeing him. It was never really his fault for her actions. She was just scared, shy, didn't want to do the wrong thing. She had a lot of problems in life, but with him coming into the picture he practically forced her to see herself first, rather than the world. And he couldn't have been happier.

But she changed him, too. Ever since Rascal had walked into his life, he felt like he could be his normal self. He didn't have to portray a character he's played in past movies or try and act like them. He'd had countless women like him to his Daryl role in The Walking Dead or Murphy part in The Boondock Saints. But Rascal didn't even know him as an actor. She knew him as Norman Reedus, a plain man. And he was so thankful.

Rascal was the best thing that had ever happened to him in his lifetime, other than Mingus of course. Norman leaned back in the couch in the living room, lit a cigarette from his dying lighter. He sighed quietly after inhaling and stopped to think for a moment. He only met his future wife because of Mingus. If he didn't forget to pick him up that one day after school, he never would have had a chance to talk to Rascal.

If Mingus hadn't thought of playing football, Sammi never wanting to try Cheerleading, than they would still be single, still be fighting for what they wanted. Norman laughed light heartedly, shook his head just likely. He turned toward the direction of Mingus and Sammi's room, whispered, "That boy,"