A/N Thank you for stopping in to check out my new Merle Dixon / Beth Greene story. I hope you enjoy.
Warning: It eludes to assault (not by Merle)
00
He was laying on the thin hard mattress of the upper bunk in a cramped prison cell. His last night of incarceration. He'd served three years of his five year sentence and they were cutting him loose, good behavior. The phrase made him smile, never in his life had anyone anywhere accused him of good behavior. But he'd been doing it.
Not to prove to anyone else he could change his dumb ass ways. There was no one left who wanted to hear that bullshit. He'd been determined to prove it to himself. It was just too damn bad he didn't make up his mind to get his shit together before it was too late. Before he'd lost everyone and everything worth caring about.
When the parole board voted to release him his first impulse was to make a collect call to his brother Daryl. But he couldn't, he wouldn't. What was he going to say? "Hey man your piss poor excuse of a big brother needs help. I need a set a clothes and I need a ride, and I need a place ta stay, and a job, and I need someone ta tell me I can keep my shit together and get my life back." Just like the needy stupid bastard he was.
He didn't call his brother. Instead he planned to walk the three blocks to the Greyhound station dressed in the prison issue clothes they gave cons to wear "home."
He had the only plan a guy in his situation could have. He'd catch the first grey dog down to Smithton and he'd pray to God they'd hire him at the place his parole officer directed him to, "Details Car Wash." Yep, just like every parolee in the state probably did, he was going to work wiping down the cars of folks who hadn't screwed the pooch. Folks who didn't keep their heads parked firmly up their asses.
He also had the name of some fleabag joint where his P.O. said he could rent a room real cheap. Without even seeing it he knew just the kind of place it would be, the kind where you pay by the week. The kind that was just a room with a lumpy bed, a chair and sink. Shared bathroom down the hall. Its own kind of prison. He had enough for one week's rent and then he was on his own.
As much as he wanted to see his little brother there was no way he'd show up at his door. He wouldn't do that to the kid. He knew how it would go. Daryl would be pissed at him, he'd raise hell and tell him the things that happened to him were his own fucking fault. But his little brother was the sweet one and Merle knew Daryl would let him crash with him. He'd probably let him come back to work, pick right up where he left off. He'd feed him and help him out and it would all be cool, no worries.
No, he wouldn't do that to the kid. This was his mess and he wasn't going to burden Daryl with cleaning it up, not this time.
He had to do this on his own, he had to prove to his little brother he wasn't the asshole Daryl probably thought he was. There was no denying he used to be but he'd like to think he could and that he did change. If he could just get his goddamn feet on the ground, if he could keep from fucking up, if he could stay off the drugs, if he could stay on the straight and narrow. If, if, if it all went that way, then he'd go see his brother.
One place he knew he wouldn't go, one place he knew for sure he'd get the slamming of the door was Beth's place. Shit, how could he expect anything but that? She'd been everything to him, she'd meant everything to him and he'd done everything a man can do to fuck the whole thing up. The way he'd treated her was unforgivable, he knew that. She bore none of the blame. He was damn proud of her for packing her bag, walking out that door and never looking back at the dumbest motherfucker that ever drew a breath.
It hadn't always been that way. There was a time, and it wasn't that long ago, when Merle Dixon's life was better than he ever could have dreamed it would be. Then like the fool he was he'd thrown it all away.
Early the next morning the guard came for him. He handed Merle a small paper bag, a bus ticket and a stipend to get him by for a few days, said, "Good luck man," and in just moments Merle Dixon would walk through the prison gate. As soon as he heard the gate close behind him he'd be a free man.
Except he wouldn't really be free. He'd never be free from his memories of all that he'd once had and all that he'd lost. For what must have been the thousandth time since Beth walked out on him he said out loud, "Ya got no one ta blame but yourself, ya screwed everythin' up all on yer own ya dumb motherfucker."
He was determined though, this was the day, the day he started his new life. Everything he owned he was either wearing on his back or carrying in a small paper bag, a toothbrush, toothpaste and a shave kit.
Six Year's Earlier
She lived in the small apartment above the restaurant, an apartment that was very difficult for the owner to rent out. It was the smell that turned potential renters away. It always had the aroma of fried foods and at times that could get a little overwhelming. No number of open windows and no amount of scented candles were ever going to be able to completely mask the smell of cooking grease.
She didn't care about the smell because as far as she was concerned it was the best apartment in the world. She never had to be alone there, not with the diner right downstairs and open all night. Seven days a week, 365 days a year.
That morning, just like she did every morning at 2:00am, she walked into the all-night diner. She sat herself down at the counter and in a low voice greeted the waitress, "Hi Jacqui."
"Hey Beth what can I get you tonight?"
"Oh let's see, how about an apple juice?" She always ordered juice. The last thing she needed was caffeine.
"Coming right up." She knew the waitress felt sorry for her but thank goodness she never acted like it. Beth appreciated that. It wasn't pity she was after, she was after a good night's sleep. She'd given up hope she'd ever get one.
She glanced down to the end of the counter and there he was, just like he was every morning when she walked in. He had his usual cup of coffee in front of him, the one she knew he'd never drink, and a tall glass of water that he did drink, and an order of toast he never ate.
She'd sensed quite a while back he was only there for her. Why? She had no real idea but it didn't matter.
He must have felt her eyes on him, he turned and lifted his chin a little in an unspoken "hello" and she did the same back to him. Just like they did every morning at 2:00 am.
She had no idea who he was but at that hour he was often the only other customer in the diner besides her. She took comfort in the fact that he was there. Maybe the comfort came from knowing she wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep.
When she'd first seen him she thought he was a little scary. He was a big imposing guy and he looked so tough and muscular. He was older but not old really, but definitely quite a bit older than her. Probably 10 to 12 years older. He had a nice head of curly hair and piercing blue eyes and although his face was lined it was not what a person would call wrinkled. It was more like what her Mama used to call "life's lines." Mama said they came on a person just from living life every day and trying to get by in this world.
She'd heard him speak to Jacqui a few times and she thought his voice sounded rough and weathered. Yet she'd come to believe he was no threat to her. The fact was she felt good about having him there. He made the little diner seem like a safer place. And yes there was the other, the fact that she was certain he came there for her. It felt almost like he was watching over for her.
After about a month or so of seeing him every morning she decided he was really quite handsome, and yes, quite sexy in a rough-edged all-man way. Not that she was at all interested in that sort of thing. She was afraid of men with all their power and strength.
Besides, he'd never even spoken to her. Why would he? A man like him could have any woman he wanted.
00
The trouble had begun the first time she moved from her parents' home. She was long passed the age when she should have made such a move, but she'd put it off. Then she started to feel like such a coward. It was just that life on the farm was the life she knew. Lots of family and neighbors around all the time, and always a lot of work to be done. Finally, at 20 she made herself do it, just to prove she could. She got a little apartment and a part time job and she was taking two courses at the community college.
Three months after she moved the unthinkable happened. The man who climbed in her bedroom window at 2 a.m., this was all his fault.
After the "incident" she sought counseling and she really felt that, all things considered, she'd learned to deal with the issues quite well. Except for two things. Okay three things. She was still hiding out at her parents' home, she wouldn't date, and her trauma had resulted in a weird kind of insomnia. She'd fall asleep but it was staying asleep that was the problem.
She moved back home for a while after the "incident" and the truth was she hadn't wanted to ever leave home again. It was the only place where she felt safe and protected. But she knew she had to. She had to prove to herself she had survived the trauma of what happened to her, and that her life should, could and would go on. She wanted her independence back, or at least a part of it. Her therapist told her she needed this move, she needed to know she could live alone and care for herself.
At 22 she was an adult and if not now then when exactly would she finally try it again, being on her own? She needed to make a life for herself. Of course Mama and Daddy would have let her live with them forever, but she knew that wasn't really what they wanted for her. It wasn't what she wanted either.
The apartment above the diner was the perfect solution. It had just what she needed. A place right downstairs that she could escape to when her fear suddenly woke her and she just couldn't take being alone. Not that she chatted with Jacqui or with Jacqui's husband, the fry cook Jim, or with the man at the end of the counter. It was just the idea of knowing they were all there.
Her poor Daddy, she knew he carried the burden of guilt over what had happened, even though none of it was his fault. She tried and tried to tell him that, but she knew his guilt was always right there below the surface, just like her fear.
She felt so bad for him and for her mother, they'd been the best parents ever. She just had to able to do this, to make this work and prove to them she was okay. She needed to do this for herself and for them.
So she'd moved back to town and into the apartment above the all-night diner and mostly her life was okay. She was taking a course in bookkeeping and one in business machines every morning at the small community college. She'd come home at lunch and have a bowl of soup and lay down for a half hour nap, then go to her job at the Vets office until five. She came right home from work and did her studies.
She'd try to tire herself by walking everywhere; she stayed away from all computer screens and her phone after seven. She never touched caffeinated drinks or watched the news or any scary movies. She'd eat comfort foods for dinner and have them early so she wouldn't go to bed with her stomach too full.
Before bed she'd soak in a nice relaxing bubble bath listening to soft classical music. She kept her room nice and cool with the small window A/C unit, and she had a white noise machine Maggie had given her for Christmas.
Falling asleep wasn't the problem. She'd nod right out. But it never failed that every morning just before two she'd wake up full of fear and anxiety. She just had to get out, get away and be near people. People who didn't want to hurt her. She'd throw on a pair of yoga pants, a sweatshirt and her sneakers and hurry down to the diner.
00
He had no business being out every damn morning at two fucking a.m. But he was. Even though he had a business to run and he should be home in bed, he had to be there for her.
In the past he'd always been that tough guy, the guy who fixes whatever needs fixing with the tools at hand. A hammer, his fists, a knife or a gun, whatever it took. But he didn't live his life like that anymore; he'd gotten his shit together.
He'd made a couple of false starts at getting clean, but he now had five years sobriety under his belt. His life was good.
He owned a busy machine shop with his brother Daryl and they made a fair living at it. They both had a comfortable life. He had a cozy house with a real nice yard, a pickup truck that only had three years on it and his motorcycle. Everything a man could ever want. Except the pretty blonde at the end of the counter. As time had passed he'd become real sure he needed her in his life. Beth, he'd heard Jacqui say her name and he'd decided it was the prettiest name he'd ever heard.
The first time he'd seen her he knew, just like he knew his name, there was a problem. He could tell by looking at her every time she walked in. She was always so pale and with a frightened look about her, like she'd just seen the scariest thing a person could see. He didn't know why he felt like she needed him to fix whatever it was, or why he thought maybe he could.
At first he'd questioned himself about just why that was but in his heart he knew. There was something about her that pulled him in. Sure it was physical desire, there was no point in denying that. But there was something else, something that said to him she needed him. The feeling was so powerful in him and the damndest thing about it was in some inexplicable way, he felt like he needed her too. He wanted everything she had and he wanted to give her everything he had, he just wasn't sure how to make that come about.
Back when he was drinking and drugging he'd have just walked right up to her and told her that, undoubtedly in some way she'd find offensive. But now that he was sober he hadn't even had the balls to just talk to her. He wasn't sure he even knew how to approach a woman like her.
It was a Wednesday night like any other the first time he'd seen her. He'd gone to an NA meeting at 9:00 over in the back room of the American Legion. There was a newcomer there, a kid of about 19 who'd gotten strung out on the crystal. Merle could relate to that. He didn't think the boy was even fully detoxed yet, so after the meeting he'd walked him around for a long while. He'd talked to him and tried to be a good support, he knew these first few days were crucial. Finally the kid had called his Mom and gone home to her. It was a start.
By then it was 1:30 in the morning and he felt too keyed for sleep. The all-night diner was just a block down the street so he thought he'd have a cup of decaf, unwind and hopefully start to feel tired. The waitress had just set the cup down in front of him when the young blonde woman came walking in.
Even looking a little disheveled, wearing some kind of exercise clothes with her hair all crazy curly and not a spec of makeup on her, she still looked just right to him.
He knew he wasn't going anywhere as long as she was there so he hung around drinking decaf that tasted like it'd been sitting in the pot all day. When she left an hour or so later he'd casually remarked to the waitress, "Now why would that young woman be out all alone this time a night? It don't seem safe."
As she reached for the pot and poured him more of the nasty brew she shrugged, "She just lives in the apartment upstairs. She comes in every morning about the same time and has a glass of juice and stays awhile, it seems to calm her down some and then she goes home."
That's all he needed to know to make him show back up the next night and every night after that.
He started catching the early meetings right after work and going to bed real early at night. He'd have his alarm set for 1:15, get up and hurriedly dress so he could be at the diner when she walked in. He knew it was crazy behavior and totally obsessive, but then obsessive was his middle name. He may not be doing drugs anymore, he was clean and sober, but that didn't mean everything about him had changed. He still had those doper's traits.
It was early Valentine's morning, about 2:15 am when he suddenly took a notion, why the fuck not? What had he been waiting for? Yeah what? Shit, without a snoot full of crystal and a belly full of Jack he'd lost his balls? Nah, it wasn't going to be like that anymore. He signaled for the waitress, "Yeah Jacqui could ya get the little gal down at the end a the counter there a piece a that cherry pie? Tell her Merle here said Happy Valentine's Day."
Jacqui smiled and did just like he asked. He watched the blonde woman smile when the waitress set the pie in front of her, and when she'd heard where it came from she looked over at him. She gave him a kind of wide-eyed look that lasted just a moment before she suddenly turned away.
He'd had enough, it was now or never. He stood and walked over to her trying to look as sweet and calm as a man like Merle Dixon is capable of looking. "I hope I didn't upset ya miss. I's just tryin' ta be friendly an all. I wanted ta wish a pretty woman a Happy Valentine's Day."
Her voice trembled and it was so low he could barely make out the words as she told him, "Thank you it's very nice."
"Listen now Miss I ain't a bad fella or nuthin', honest. I didn't mean ta scare ya. I's just tryin' ta be nice is all. I worry about ya. I come in here every night just ta check on ya, make sure you're okay."
That was when she looked him right in the eyes and simply stated, "That's what I thought. Thank you."
That kind of floored the big man, "Yeah? Lemme tell ya girl yer killin' me. I go home from here every mornin' hopin' ta catch a couple hours sleep before I gotta work, cuz I'm up till all hours just ta make sure you're okay."
He couldn't have been more surprised when tears started rolling down her cheeks and in that soft voice she said, "Beth, my name is Beth and I'm so sorry."
"Ah no now Darlin' ya don't be sorry, not ever. I'm here cuz here with you is where I wanna be. Eat your pie now Beth an then I'll walk ya home. I'm Merle, Merle Dixon."
She slid the plate over a few inches, "Only if you share with me."
"Nah I bought it for you, sweets are for the sweet, especially on Valentine's Day. Ya eat, I'll get the check."
She'd expected to take just a bite to appease him but she surprised herself and ate the whole slice. "Thank you Merle it was delicious."
He smiled, "Ya ready?" She nodded and lead the way.
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A/N There's our start. I hope you enjoyed it and that you'll leave a comment / review. If you'd like to see the chapter photo it's on my tumblr blogs gneebee and bethylmethbrick. I hope to see you all back next Wednesday for more of Open All Night. Happy Valentine's Day! And remember, I love ya large and appreciate you very much, xo gneebee