It was close enough to walk to Rick's. Beth had been there once before, when Maggie had just moved into the city. The house was a beautiful old Victorian that had been a functioning brothel at some point, Rick bought it when his parents died and rented out the rooms to whoever he could find. There was no way working as a security guard could pay the mortgage, especially when child support factored in. That was how he and Glenn had met. Beth had heard the story several times, how Glenn delivered a pizza one night and then moved in the next day. There had been a party there the last time Beth was in town, but she had been staying at the hotel with her parents.
They walked in to the house and it was nothing like Beth had pictured. There weren't frat boys in togas funneling beer, there weren't people making out on every surface. She had never really been to a house party. When they walked in the door Rick greeted them, a bear skin smiled eerily at them from where it hung on the railing. Beth looked around and into the few rooms she could see from the entry way. The house itself was beautiful, the architecture and restoration were works of art and love. There was an organ built into the wall of the parlor and every room Beth could see had a fireplace. There were tin ceilings and a story for the bullet hole in the study. The mounted buck in the dining room wore a propeller hat and the small mouth bass had a cigar. The French doors to the living room did little to stop the smell of smoke from spreading throughout the house. Beth could see a few people passing a joint around.
She heard a familiar song as they passed a sitting room and cringed at the off beat singing. There were a few people trying to keep John Popper's tempo and failing while one guitar filled the room with effortless sound. Beth didn't mean to make eye contact with the guy playing guitar but he smirked at her grimace as he finished playing. "I ain't playin' that Dave Matthews song so gimme something else." The voice was deeper than she expected and she found herself wondering what his eyes looked like while he talked. She followed Maggie to the kitchen for drink.
"Who's that playing guitar?" Beth asked as she took a sip of her beer.
"Probably Daryl." Glenn handed Maggie a cup, "He's always playing something. You'd should go sing, I don't think he'd mind you cutting in."
She made her way back to the sitting room with Glenn and Maggie in tow. He was strumming that Eagle Eye Cherry song and when he got to the chorus Glenn started singing some old hip hop song. They traded a few verses back and forth before Glenn tripped up and started laughing.
"Daryl, this is Beth, Maggie's sister."
He nodded, " 'lo," and then looked right back down at the guitar.
"She sings pretty good." Maggie said as she flopped into the only empty chair. "You should play something."
"Don't know any Taylor Swift." He downed the rest of his beer, "None of that One Direction shit either."
His blue eyes drilled into her, she couldn't tell what he wanted. Beth tilted her cup back and then met his stare. "Neither do I." It felt like a challenge but she wasn't sure why.
Daryl chewed on the inside of his lip before strumming a few random chords and then starting out on a riff Beth recognized right off the bat. She settled in to the notes he played. "Sometimes I feel like I don't have a partner…" She wasn't sure when she realized he was watching only her, his eyes didn't flick around the room, they didn't close or look down to make sure his hands were doing what they should. She didn't mind. They did a few songs, he never sang more than a line or two if she was missing a lyric but his voice was embedded in her head. It was gritty and lower than she was used to hearing. It was a voice that had lived.
Daryl put the guitar down and stood, he was taller than she had thought, she didn't miss the way his pants hung just a little too low or the way he tugged down the worn flannel shirt even though it had hardly crept up. "Gonna get a beer."
"I need one too." She followed him to the kitchen watching the way he walked, his slightly uneven footsteps were silent despite his boots. He stayed close to the walls. Beth scolded herself for wondering what he wore under his faded jeans.
He kept his distance in the small kitchen, instead of handing her drink back to her he left it on the table. Daryl leaned back against the refrigerator across from where she sat at the table. "Where'd you learn to play?"
Beth didn't miss how he looked down at his feet when he answered. "Had an old concert VHS. Watched it till the tape started draggin', found stuff online when that got easier to do." He cleared his throat, "How about you?"
"Church I guess? I dunno, I've been singing as long as I can remember."
She couldn't take her eyes off him as he chewed on his thumbnail.
"You sound good." HIs voice was softer now.
She felt a blush creep onto her cheeks and a smile spread. "Thanks, you do too. You're really good, Daryl."
He blew a quick breath out of his nose and pushed off the fridge, "Come on, I got time for a couple more."
Beth could feel her sister's eyes on her when they sat back down across from each other. Daryl didn't give her time to worry about it though, he started drumming out a beat on the body of the guitar. Glenn laughed when he recognized the song. Daryl started it off, "On the east side, that's where I met my Ramona…" By the third line everyone was singing.
Daryl looked down at his watch, "Gotta go." He finished his drink then stood and started shoving his guitar in it's case.
Beth looked at Maggie, "I think I'm gonna head out too. I'm beat from today."
"Alright, "Maggie nodded, "Daryl'll walk you home, it's on the way."
He chewed on his lip as he nodded, "You in Maggie's old place?"
"Yeah."
"Let's go then." He slung his guitar onto his back and walked out of the room.
Beth let her goodbyes linger with promises to come down for coffee in the morning and to be sure she locked her door when she got home.
"We gotta go, Beth!" Daryl called as he stepped outside. She caught up to him on the porch steps. He looked back and adjusted his gait to match her speed as they walked under the street lights. "How'd you know all those songs? You're too young for most of 'em."
"Two older siblings, Maggie always had the radio on and Shawn was in a band. I pick up stuff pretty quick." She glanced up at him, "How old do you think I am?"
He cleared his throat and kicked at a weed coming up through the cement, "I dunno, ain't supposed to ask that."
She smiled, "I'll be twenty-one next month. What about you?"
"Twenty-nine." He glanced down at his watch under one of the lights. "Come on then, 'M running late." He didn't say anything else until she had her key in the door.
"G'night."
"Thanks for walking me, I had fun tonight." She looked back and saw him still standing there with his hands in his pockets. "It's open, you can go, I'm alright."
"Imma wait till you put on a light." He chewed his lip as he watched her go in.
Beth hurried up the stairs and into her small living room. She stood back from the window, hidden in the shadows and looked down at him. Daryl stood watching the building, waiting for her. She let his image seep into her memory. The way he stood, his back straight, shoulders hunched down just a bit. She knew the eyes peering out beneath the too long, shaggy hair were bright blue. She memorized his faded clothes and scuffed boots, the way his silhouette was misshapen from the guitar case. Beth sighed and flicked the light switch up. She stood against the window and raised her hand in a wave. Daryl watched her for a moment. She hoped that maybe he was committing the details of her stance to his memory, she cursed herself for not blow drying her slightly frizzy hair. He nodded at her, ducked his head down and headed down the sidewalk.
