Disclaimer: I own nothing from The Walking Dead. The characters from the TV series and/or graphic novel belong to the creators of the series.
The Stars Aligned
Chapter 1
"How do you know so much, Grandma?" twelve-year-old Carol Mason asked, dangling her bare feet over the side of the deck on the back of Grandma Sophia's house. Mrs. Mason laughed and hiked up the legs of her overalls before crouching down to join her only grandchild.
"Sweet girl, I guess you could say the stars aligned the night your old grandma was born," the older woman said with an adventurous smile. "I guess I just always had a knack for knowing things."
"Will Shane Walsh try to kiss me on the school bus again this year?" Carol asked, making a face that made her grandmother laugh.
"Oh, Carol. Don't worry yourself about those things." She paused. "But when he does, you just remind him that just because he wants to kiss you doesn't mean he's allowed to." She winked and nudged the girl's side. Carol sighed and rolled her eyes. "Oh, you don't have to know everything to know that boy's sweet on you."
"I don't like him, grandma. He's a jerk."
"Well, you don't have to like him. There's no rule that says you have to like a boy just because he likes you." She watched the words settle behind Carol's eyes, and she smiled. "I won't like to you, darlin'. This world's cold sometimes. Harsh. There's a lot of hurt and a lot of hate. And you'll feel that. I'd give anything to keep you from all of that, but I'm afraid I won't be around forever."
"Don't say that, grandma." Carol looked down, looked at the grimy cuticles around her nails. "You're not going anywhere."
"We all do. Someday." The older woman put her arm around the girl's shoulders.
"I wish I was special like you," Carol sighed.
"Honey, I'm not that special," Grandma laughed. "If I was that special, I'd be rich." She winked at her granddaughter, hoping to get a smile out of her. It didn't work. "Can I tell you a secret?"
"Ok," Carol nodded.
"One day, a long time from now, you're gonna be standing on this porch with a baby in your arms, and it's gonna be one of the very first awful moments of your life."
"I don't think I want to hear this."
"Now, you won't know it then, but trust me, sweet girl, that's going to be the beginning of something wonderful. Just mark my words."
"How do you know, Grandma?"
"You know how I know."
"Yeah," Carol murmured. "You just do."
Carol sat up in bed as lightning illuminated the small apartment bedroom. She groaned as her head throbbed from lack of sleep. She rubbed at her temples and the cries of her eight-week-old daughter grew louder and more insistent.
"It's ok, sweetheart," Carol murmured groggily, pulling herself up out of bed. She grabbed for her bathrobe and leaned over to peek at the other side of the bed. "Ed?" She squinted into the darkness and patted the still-flat blanket. It was cold. And it was 3:30 in the morning. God damn him.
She stumbled out of the room and down to the small bedroom next to the bathroom. It was barely big enough for a rocking chair and a crib, but she'd managed to make it work.
The nightlight cast a yellow glow about the room, and Carol could see her little one wriggling and fussing as she continued to cry.
"It's ok," Carol murmured. "It's alright, Sophia. Mama's here. Shh…" Her limbs felt unsteady, coltish, and as she settled into the rocking chair and began to hum a gentle lullaby, she thought back to the hot summer nights she'd spent at her grandmother's farm, waking up in cold sweats and forgetting where she was, being soothed back to sleep with a story or a song, and despite the fact that she was angry and upset with Ed, she felt a sense of peace wash over her when Sophia settled and fell into an easy sleep nuzzled safely against her mother's breast.
It wasn't long before Sophia was sleeping soundly in her crib. Carol took the opportunity to check her phone. No messages. She knew where he was. He was at Bill's or Mike's or wherever else he could think to go to escape the responsibilities of being a new father.
It was nights like this that Carol's mind drifted back to her best friend, her grandmother. They'd been close, and as the only grandchild, Carol had formed a very close bond with the older woman. Up until a month ago, she'd talked to her grandmother just about every night on the phone, and on that final night when the phone hadn't rung, Carol had just known. Deep down, she'd known, and she was still numb over it, still disbelieving, still hoping she'd wake up and it'd all have been one big, bad dream.
She'd missed the funeral. Ed had claimed they hadn't had the money for gas to make it from Jacksonville all the way back to Senoia, though he'd gone out drinking with his buddies that very same weekend. Her own parents were long gone, so there was nobody to really shame her for missing it. Only herself. The guilt had eaten at her, nagged at her, kept her up at night. The only thing that kept her from completely hating herself was that baby Sophia had had the chance to meet her namesake. Her grandmother had made the trip down to Florida when Sophia was born, and Carol had many beautiful pictures to remind herself of the last time she'd seen the one person she'd been able to count on all of her life.
When Carol settled back into bed, she sent Ed a quick text, asking him when he'd be home. She knew he wouldn't respond, and his excuse tomorrow would be that he hadn't heard his phone or that the battery had died. There was always an excuse and never an apology, and frankly, Carol was beginning to reconsider her decision to marry him. The wedding was fast approaching, and the closer it got, the more uncertain she became.
She often looked at Ed and wondered if loving him had been one of the biggest mistakes she'd ever made. She'd often asked her grandmother about Ed, and her grandmother had simply told her that she'd lost her good sense for things years ago and that the only advice she could give her was to follow her heart and not to pin her entire future on the words and advice of an old woman who had maybe had foresight a time or two in her younger years.
Still, there were so many nights when her grandmother would call just to chat, and Carol often wondered if she sensed that Ed wasn't around and that she felt she was maybe providing some bit of comfort for her granddaughter. Ever since Carol could remember, her grandmother had been a very wise woman, and to this day, Carol was absolutely certain that her grandmother had a gift, even if it had been brushed off by many as childhood fancy and the ramblings of a silly old woman.
A loud noise from out in the hall startled Carol, and she held her breath, hoping the baby wouldn't wake. A few moments passed, and she let out a sigh as the front door opened, and Ed the stench of booze poured into the apartment with the bright light from the hallway.
"Sorry I'm late," he murmured in her general direction, kicking his boots off and stumbling past her toward the bedroom.
"Where were you?" Carol asked under her breath, following the man she was due to marry.
"Went out for a couple beers with the guys."
"Smells like more than a couple beers."
"Can ya get off my back for one night? Christ, I worked all week."
"You called in twice this week, Ed. We have bills to pay, and…"
"Well, why don't you go out there and shake your ass then? Don't see you bringing any money in."
"We both agreed I'd stay home with Sophia for the first year. Aren't you the one that said you'd rather her have her mama at home than pay a babysitter?"
"Shit," Ed muttered, rubbing his face with his palm. "It's too fuckin' late to have this fight again."
"Then don't stumble home with booze on your breath after you've been out spending money that you claim we don't have." She huffed and stood there with her hands on her hips as Ed lay back on the bed. "You're never here, Ed."
"Aw, shit," Ed grumbled. "You ain't gonna let this go, are ya?"
"Believe it or not, Ed, we have a daughter who needs both of her parents." She got into the bed and leaned back against the pillow. "You have to start being there. If we're going to get married, I want a husband, not a part-time babysitter." When Ed didn't reply, she knew he was already asleep, and with a heavy sigh, she closed her eyes and hoped she could relax enough to fall back into something close to sleep.
Carol ducked her head sheepishly as she knocked on the back door of Irma's Kitchen, the little diner at the edge of town.
"Well, there you are. I was about to send out a search party," Irma Horvath said with a sweet laugh, opening the door with one hand as she stuffed a small dish towel in her apron pocket.
"I'm so sorry I'm late, Irma. Sophia had a minor diaper explosion, and Ed was late getting out the door."
"Honey, I'm not upset. We're slow this morning, anyway. And there's my precious angel!" Irma wiped her damp hands on her apron before taking the car seat from Carol.
"I can do that, Irma."
"Oh, shush. You let me, now. This little'un is the closest I'm ever gonna get to having my own." She smiled wistfully as she placed the car seat on the counter top and lifted the baby out of the seat. "Yes, now, you come to your Grannie Irma. There…" Sophia snuggled against her breast, and Irma kissed the top of her head.
"You're so good with her," Carol murmured, grabbing an apron off the peg by the door. "I can't thank you enough for giving me this job."
"I can't thank you enough for the help," Irma said with a little shrug, putting Sophia down in the portable crib she'd set up in the back room of the diner.
Carol got up for work every morning with the worry in her heart that Ed would find out she'd picked up a job on the side. As much as he growled about her nagging him about the bills, he truly didn't want her working. He liked the idea of having her at home so he knew where she was, so he wouldn't have to feel so guilty about staying out at all hours and avoiding his responsibilities. They'd gotten together too young. She knew that. And Sophia had come along so fast that Carol was practically having contractions while the ink was drying on her associate's degree from the community college.
But Ed wasn't motivated. He'd made all kinds of promises to her when they'd gotten engaged. But now, he was a certified gopher at a law firm, basically filing papers and getting coffee for the actual lawyers while still trying to pass the Bar exam. He'd blamed his inability to pass on sleepless nights since the baby was born, but he'd barely been there for that. He wasn't the one feeding and changing Sophia.
And he claimed he was too busy to handle the bills, so he let her handle that, and there was absolutely no way the bills were going to get paid, food was going to be put on the table and Sophia was going to be taken care of on his paychecks. So, Carol had picked up a small part-time job working a few hours a day thanks to the kind couple, Dale and Irma, who ran the diner. They paid her in cash every day, a little here and there, sometimes extra since she didn't get tips for washing dishes. And Ed was too busy to even notice.
But the bills were getting paid. Their family was getting fed. Sophia was getting taken care of. And that little girl had the Horvaths wrapped around her little finger, and Carol was certain she knew it.
"Where's Dale today?" Carol asked, turning on the water in the large, steel wash bin. She added some soap and started the rinse water with a little bleach.
"Oh, he's out fishing. He won't catch anything, but he'll come back with a story about how he almost caught a whopper." Carol grinned and loaded the first batch of plates into the washer. "How are things at home, honey?" She looked over her shoulder to see Irma watching her, head tilted in that way that made Carol feel about three inches tall. Please don't pity me.
"Things are…fine."
"You and I both know that's a bold faced lie."
"Well, they're the same, I mean," Carol said quietly. "Ed's busy with work and studying." She shook her head. "He's trying to pass that exam. He's trying."
"He's trying, but he's not helping you. He's not there for you."
"It's just a rough patch," Carol murmured softly and unconvincingly.
"Honey, rough patches are supposed to be gotten through together." Irma moved across the kitchen and came to help Carol with the dishes. "You work so hard, and he has no idea."
"He wants to be the provider."
"So that means you and Sophia have to suffer in the process? Honey, you're so young. You have your whole life ahead of you." Carol swallowed the lump in her throat, and she fought against the tug in her chest, the tug that told her that Irma was right and she was just trying to rebuild a broken relationship with chewing gum and spit.
"You sound like my grandmother," Carol chuckled. "Except she didn't put it quite so plainly. I know she didn't approve of Ed." Her shoulders slumped. "She wanted me to make my own choices. Maybe I made the wrong ones." She looked over her shoulder at the small crib in the back room. "I made a few right ones, too."
"Well," Irma said with a soft sigh, "if you ever need anything, you know we're here for you. You're the closest thing Dale or I have ever had to having a daughter of our own." Carol blinked back the tears in her eyes and nodded her head.
"You've done so much for me. I can't thank you enough."
"No thanks needed. You just take care of that precious girl. The rest? Well, the rest will work itself out."
The wind whipped off the hill, chilling the air around the old farm house. Daryl Dixon leaned back against the tailgate of his truck and flicked his smoldering cigarette into the red dirt beneath him. A storm was rolling in, and he knew he needed to get his ass up on that roof and fix the leak before he ended up with a mess to clean up inside.
He grabbed for his tools and made his way toward the latter that leaned against the side of the house. He'd never really been afraid of heights, but risking his neck atop a big old farm house wasn't exactly on the top of his list of most enjoyable things to do. Still, he started up the latter, stopping halfway up when the dust from Old Mill Road spread through the tree line like fog on a cool night. He squinted into the sunlight as the roar of an engine preceded the sight of a patrol car skirting around the hairpin curve.
Daryl smirked when the car almost took out the old mailbox and made a note to move it further from the road.
When the car stopped next to Daryl's truck, he climbed down and made his way over to see his old buddy from high school, Rick Grimes, sitting in the driver's seat.
"What the hell brings you all the way out here?"
"Lawyers finished looking through Old Mrs. Mason's papers. Don't think that lady never threw nothin' away."
"So, the rookie gets stuck doin' paperwork?" Daryl smirked, leaning up against the side of the truck and Rick got out of the patrol car with a manila folder under his arm. "What's that?"
"Turns out, Mrs. Mason didn't have any significant amount of money left after funeral expenses were taken care of. In fact, the only thing she had left of much value was this old farmstead." Rick handed Daryl the packet. "Phone number's in the papers."
"Why you want me to call?"
"You're the caretaker, aren't you? Take care of it." Rick smirked at him with that shit-eating grin, and Daryl spat into the dirt. "Look, I just thought maybe it'd be better if somebody that knew her did the calling."
"I didn't know her. Brought her groceries sometimes. Fixed what needed fixin'. She paid me, and that was it. Didn't know her."
"Well, you knew her better than I did, and you've been staying here at the house since the bank asked you to take care of the place."
"Yeah, they just wanted it to look good in case they got to get their hands on it," Daryl scoffed.
"Well, they won't now. Mrs. Mason left the place to her granddaughter. Name's Carol. Guess she grew up around here. Don't expect we'd know her. She went to high school in Peachtree."
"Great," Daryl muttered. "Fine, I'll call. Gotta get this roof done first, 'fore the storm gets here. You wanna help?"
"Nah, I gotta get back to the station."
"Yeah, guess you got more papers to file," Daryl snorted. Rick smirked and shook his head.
"They're putting me on patrol next week."
"Whoa, look out. Trainin' wheels are comin' off."
"Shut up. Wanna get a beer later?"
"Yeah, all right," Daryl agreed.
They said their goodbyes and Daryl went back to work, climbing up on to the roof to patch the leak. As he worked, he thought about all the times he'd come out to fix something around the property, never once had he seen somebody out to visit Mrs. Mason. She'd talked about family and even mentioned having a new great-granddaughter. A couple of months ago, she'd asked him to keep an eye on the place while she went down to Florida to see the baby, but other than that, he knew very little about Mrs. Mason or her family. She was a kind old woman who pretty much kept to herself. He liked that. He understood that. He'd been a loner most of his whole life, except when his big brother Merle was around. But Merle was off to who-knew-where, and Daryl didn't expect him back anytime soon, especially if a woman was involved. In the three years since leaving high school, he'd pretty much tried not to meet everyone's expectations of him following in the troubling footsteps of his older brother. He'd held down a job at Axel's garage, he'd done odd jobs around town for people who needed it, and he'd just tried to keep people at a distance, because everybody he'd ever known had either left him or let him down at some point or another.
So, by the time he grabbed his phone and dialed the number provided for him in the packet, he was already dreading stumbling over his words or whatever the hell usually happened when he spoke to someone he didn't know. If it was up to Daryl, he'd find himself a quiet place like this out in the middle of nowhere and just live off the land. To hell with people. All they were good for was causing trouble anyway.
"Hello?" The voice was soft, unassuming. "Hello?" Who the hell answered the phone for an unknown caller these days, anyway?
"Uh, Miss Mason? Is this, uh, Carol Mason?"
"Speaking," she said softly. He literally flinched at the way her voice floated into his ear like a song. Christ.
"Uh, my name's Daryl Dixon. I been takin' care of your grandma's place since she passed."
"Oh," Carol said softly. "Oh, alright. Is…is there something wrong?"
"No. Uh, actually, the sheriff's office just brought some papers by. Guess they got the will sorted out, all that stuff. Seems Mrs. Mason left you her house in the will." He had to check his phone to make sure she hadn't hung up on him. "You there?"
"She left me her house?"
"Uh, yes, ma'am." He cleared his throat and looked through the papers. "Looks like she got the taxes paid up for a couple years. Mortgage was paid off years ago. Ain't much of a farm anymore. Mrs. Mason had the barn fixed up into a guest house. Pretty nice place, you know?"
"I…I haven't been there in so long," Carol said quietly. "You're sure…she left it to me?"
"Says here, you're her only livin' kin, and she wanted you to have it. Looks like she updated it last month, makin' a note that if you couldn't take care of the place, the property should go to Sophia Peletier."
"My daughter?"
"Looks like," Daryl said quietly. "Anyway, the house is in good shape, and I been comin' by the fix things that need fixin', so if you wanna come by and see the place…"
"I…I live in Florida, Mr. Dixon. I can't just…"
"Look, do whatever you wanna do," he said gruffly. "Your address still 39 Southway in Jacksonville? Apartment 8?"
"Yes…yes, that's my address," she said quietly.
"Great. I'll send the papers, and then you can do whatever the hell you want with it. Just thought you might like to know she left ya somethin'." With that, he ended the call, and shook his head. Seems he had something in common with Mrs. Mason. They were both better off without the people who were supposed to love them.
