That evening, Daryl pulled up into the farm's gravel driveway and parked beside the truck. He could smell hamburgers and hotdogs from the grill out back and he walked around that way. Amy was sitting on a swing glider watching the grill. The sunglasses were off and he could see the fading colors of a black eye. His jaw clenched and he blew out a breath of anger. She looked up quickly and he saw her mouth grimace as she realized he'd seen her eye. She watched him silently, a wariness in her expression that broke his heart again. He sat down in a chair opposite the glider and nodded.
She opened her mouth and he held up his hand. "Amy, I won't ever pry into your business. If you want to tell me anything, and I mean anything, then you tell me. But I won't ask. I'm a private person myself and I respect that in other people. So don't feel like ya gotta explain anything to me-I'm just glad to see ya again after all this time." He looked at her quietly. "I've missed ya. Ya have no idea." He cleared his throat. She nodded and smiled sadly.
"I knew the minute I saw you, that you were the same old Daryl." She sighed softly. "I'm not at all the same girl you knew. I'm a colossal mess up. Can't seem to get anything right-not school, not marriage, not anything." She bowed her head slightly and her hands clasped each other tightly. He felt that she needed to say this, so he remained silent. "I've disappointed everyone over and over. This last guy-I'd gotten to where I felt like I deserved anything bad he did. I didn't resist him when he hit me, didn't fight back. Wound up in the hospital, and even then I wouldn't have left him if my family hadn't stepped in. They pressed charges against him and moved me out of his house. My family held a "meeting", she made air quotes with her hands and gave a short bitter laugh, "and told me I could stay at our grandparents' farm while I got my shit together and all that." She shook her head wearily. "I lay awake at night sometimes and wish he'd killed me," she said softly. Daryl grunted angrily and she wiped her tears from her face. "So, I'm not the girl you knew. I'm damaged goods, more than gently distressed. The black sheep of my family. Be careful about having anything to do with me, some of my soot might rub off on you," she finished softly, not meeting his eyes. His hands clenched in anger. How could her family have done this to her? She had been so sweet, stubborn yes, but kind hearted and caring. What had happened to her parents, her family that they would let this happen to her? He shook his head in anger and disgust.
"Amy," he said softly, willing her to look up at him. When she did, he continued, "I would never think that way of you, I don't care what you've done or what has happened. You're a good woman. I will always think that. Bad things happen, mostly to folks who don't deserve to be treated that way. It's just the way life is." He paused. "You don't think I deserved it when my daddy beat me do you?" she shook her head vehemently. "Or that I deserved to have my momma burn up in a housefire she started?" Amy shook her head vehemently again. "Well then, life is shitty. And innocent folks are usually the ones who get the worst of it. There aren't any happy endings that I've ever seen. Makes life easier to get through if ya don't believe in all that bullshit. Believing in it is what breaks your heart and makes you fall for liars who don't care how bad they hurt you." He knelt down in front of her and laid his hand gently on her twisting hands. "Stop. This is me, Daryl. You don't have to be ashamed or afraid with me. Be who you want to be, however ya want to be." At this Amy started to sob, loud, gut wrenching sobs that sounded like she'd kept them inside for far too long. He pulled her from the swing and sat and pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around her and rocked her gently as she sobbed.
It took a bit, but she at last started to hiccup and breathe more steadily. She sniffed and he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a shop towel he kept handy. He handed it to her and she blew her nose and attempted to wipe her face. She gave a small unsteady laugh. "I've soaked your shirt and got snot all over you," she whispered, but she sounded less sad. He grunted.
"Snot's not the worst thing I've had on my shirt, Amy," and he hugged her tighter. She sighed tiredly. "Best check your food on the grill, smells like it's burning," he murmured. She jumped up and ran to the grill.
Lifting the lid, smoke poured out. "Oh no," she wailed. Daryl walked over and grimaced. The food was blackened.
"Well, hey, got any peanut butter and jelly," he asked. She laughed and nodded. He waved her into the house while he took the ruined food off the grill and tossed it into the garbage then followed her into the kitchen. Looking around, he saw it hadn't changed all that much from all those years ago. Same big farmhouse kitchen, sturdy oak table with seating for twelve. Same old farmhouse sink and stove and refrigerator. If anyone bought the place they'd spend a fortune updating the place, but he liked it.
Amy got some old chipped everyday plates out and quickly made a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and poured two glasses of milk. They sat at the table together, silently eating their sandwiches. Looking at her, Daryl saw her nose was red, her eyes puffy from crying along with the fading bruises on her face. Even so, to him she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Although he didn't like telling his personal information to anyone, he felt after what Amy had told him he owed her some explanation of what he was doing. He cleared his throat.
"I've been working at the shop now since I was eighteen," he began. She nodded silently. "Guy was a friend of Merle's, Merle helped me get the job," at the mention of Merle's name Amy frowned questioningly. "Merle has been in and out of jail all this time for all kinds of shit. Never anything really serious though-he has some kinda luck that he never gets caught when he's doing something really bad. He goes in for a year or two, gets out and within a year or so he's back in." Daryl shrugged his shoulders wearily. "He stays with me when he's out, when he's not shacked up with some chick he's found or not staying with some new friends he's made," here he snorted. "Don't like him staying with me, but he's my brother. Only blood I have left in this world. I worry bout him when he's in jail, but seems he can't stop getting into trouble and stay out." He spread his hands and shrugged again. Amy nodded in understanding. The men she'd been involved in the last few years could easily have been one of Merle's friends.
"I didn't ever do any drugs, well I smoked pot sometimes, but nothing else," she murmured. "Don't really drink much either. Never could handle it very well," she continued. "Just wanted you to know as bad as I've been, haven't done anything like that," she finished. He nodded.
"Me neither. I mean, I smoked some too but I saw what that other shit did to Merle and his tweaker friends. Wasn't interested. And I wanted to keep my job, didn't want to disappoint my boss. He's taught me a lot, been good to me." Amy nodded again.
"Do ya want another sandwich?" she asked. She started to get up, but he waved her back down and he picked their plates up and deposited them in the sink.
"Naw, don't each much anyway." He leaned against the sink and looked at her. She smiled.
"Remember when we used to lay in your treehouse and watch the stars?" she asked, her cheeks blushing. He smiled slowly and nodded. "Wanna go lay out on the lawn chairs and look at the sky?" she asked eagerly. He realized he'd been there three hours, it was nine o'clock and the sky was slowly changing to night. It was a clear night, it would be a good night for stargazing. He nodded and they stepped back out onto the back patio. They dragged the two chairs a little out into the grass and Amy ran back in and turned out the porch and outbuilding lights. Darkness settled quietly around them as they sat on the chairs they'd pushed together. She reached out her hand and he grasped it. A slight breeze stirred in the trees, and he could faintly smell the flowers from the overgrown gardens.
"I used to lay in whatever backyard I had and look up at the stars," she said quietly, clasping his hand a bit tighter. "I tried to imagine what you were doing, hoped you were happy. Wished I could go back to that summer and be with you again," she paused, and cleared her throat, "that was the last time I was truly happy. I wish we'd never moved away. Wish I'd found a way to come back here after I graduated and found you." He looked over to her, saw she was staring intently up at the sky and saw a tear roll down her cheek.
"I did the same," he murmured. She turned quickly to him, her eyes wide in surprise.
"Really," she whispered.
"I don't lie," he grumbled and squeezed her hand. She smiled and sighed happily.
They held hands and watched the stars and after a while he heard her breathing settle into the slow soft breathing of sleep. He kept his grasp of her hand, and watched her silently as she slept. He didn't know how he gotten this lucky, to have Amy fall into his life again, but he was damned if he was going to lose her again.
