Chapter Four

Jail.

The sorry son of a bitch had landed his stupid drunken ass in jail and Daryl couldn't be happier for it. His laugh echoed through the small house they shared as he shoved a wad of money into his pocket.

Last nights fight had ended outside on the lawn where neighbors could see everything that was happening and one of them had finally called the police. Once the cops had arrived it was obvious that Daryl's father was belligerently drunk and a danger to anyone around. The dumb ass had tried to fight off the police and he had tried to attack the old woman across the street that had come out to the edge of her yard to watch the commotion. She had been clutching a huge fluffy tabby cat in her arms, pink curlers glinting in the moonlight. When Daryl's father broke free from the police and charged her, screaming about how her nosy ass was going to pay, she had thrown the cat right into the air and ran faster than any woman her age had any right to.

Daryl was in a damn fine mood when he stepped outside into the early afternoon sunshine. The air smelled a little bit sweeter and the sky was just a little bit bluer. There wasn't a damn thing to eat in the house so he'd walk to town and grab a bite and then put in a few more job applications. With any luck he would already have his own place somewhere before the old son of a bitch got out of jail.

He hadn't called Carol, though when he'd gotten home he had copied the numbers into a notebook, just in case. He wanted to talk to her. He wasn't exactly sure why he hadn't called her. He thought about her a lot and several times he'd found himself picking up the phone but he never got past the second digit of either number before hanging up with a disgusted shake of his head.

Maybe he'd give her a call once he got back home.

Maybe he was kidding himself.

The girl was better off without him hanging around. He was trouble, even if he didn't want to be. He had a reputation even though he'd never really done anything wrong. If she started hanging out with him then the rest of the town would just think that she was just as bad. He didn't want that for her. It was hard enough for himself to get work in this place and he wasn't going to bring his worries to her doorstep.

He turned at the end of the block, his destination in view now. It was a little off the wall cafe that served decent sandwiches and good desserts and he'd ransacked his old man's bedroom and found his stash of cash. He was treating himself to the good stuff today. The weather was pretty good so he thought that maybe he'd walk down to the bridge and do some fishing later on. With his old man locked up, his options were limitless.

He was almost there when the door to another shop opened and someone stepped out, slamming right into him. He grunted and barely managed to keep himself on his feet. He was half tempted to give the dumb son of a bitch an ear full when suddenly he heard a familiar voice.

"Daryl!"

His head came up and his stomach did a strange flip when his eyes met a set of familiar blue ones. "Carol?"

She grinned, ignoring the shopping bags she had dropped and then hugged him like they were old friends that hadn't seen each other in years instead of near strangers that hadn't seen each other in a week. He wasn't sure what the hell to do so his hands went to her waist and he waited until she was finished. She stepped back and then her warm smile vanished. "Your eye!" She nearly squeaked.

He shrugged and stepped away from her but it was too late. She stepped right back into his space and then her finger was lightly tracing the bruise under his left eye. He brushed her hand away. "Ain't nothin'."

She looked worried for a second but then she finally took a deep breath and went in another direction. "You never called," she said, almost sounding hurt.

"Yeah, I've been busy. How you been?" He asked, feeling like a jackass.

She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Bored. Lonely. I met a couple of girls and went out to the lake with them Friday but it wasn't very fun. They're pretty dull compared to you. I was hoping maybe I'd end up bumping into you sometime."

He looked down at the bags lying around their feet and bent to pick them up. It seemed like she hadn't even realized she'd dropped anything when she had ran him over. He held them out and she took them gratefully.

"Actually I was just about to head home and make some lunch. Believe it or not, I know my way around a kitchen. You hungry?"

He looked past her at the Cafe sign and saw about six guys he'd went to school with step inside. He cursed silently and then shrugged. He couldn't pretend like he didn't want to spend any time with her and his plans were muddled because of the group of jock assholes that had just invaded his lunch destination anyway. "Fuck it. You got your car back?"

She nodded. "Yeah. It didn't break me to get the stupid thing fixed. The piece of junk," she muttered darkly.

The two of them fell into step and he stayed mostly silent as they drove out to her house. She chattered like she had the day they had been stuck walking together but his nerves were kicking up something awful and he didn't really catch much of what she was saying. Not until they were on her porch and she shoved the bags into his hands while she dug around for her house key. Then he heard her plane and clear.

"So, about your eye..." She let her voice trail away.

"Drop it," he muttered.

"Dropped," she sighed, pushing the door open and stepping into the cool entry hall. She led him into a small but bright and cheery kitchen where he deposited the bags on the counter.

From what he had seen so far the house was in good shape and much more cheerful than his own.

"You want a tour?" She asked brightly after she stowed her goods away.

"If I say no you'll just show me anyway so, sure. Why the hell not?" He eyed her but she could somehow tell that he was just giving her a hard time because she laughed quietly and grabbed his hand.

"A lot of this stuff was my grandma's. I haven't packed it up yet," she said as they stepped into the living room where the walls were adorned with family photos. "I figure, with my inheritance, I have enough to make it for about six months if I'm careful so I don't have to stress too much about getting a job right away. Unless I break down and buy another used car, of course." She pulled him down a short hall, showing him the bathroom and then a sparsely furnished guest bedroom. "You probably think I'm way too excited but this is my first place and I'm kind of proud, even if I didn't buy it myself or anything." She looked almost embarrassed, like he would make fun of her excitement. "I have the best memories here."

"It's a great place," he said absently, looking back down the hallway. Instead of leading him back to the kitchen she led him through the door across from the guest room.

"My room," she said with a grin. "And you're the first man that's been in here in probably forty years or more."

His eyes took in the space and realized that this was the only room that she had taken over completely. The décor seemed to reflect the carefree personality she possessed. It was a lot better than his own room. "Not to shabby."

She sat down on the bed. "You don't seem as stressed as you seemed when I met you."

He let his gaze drift to her and that was a bad idea since she was leaning back on her arms on the bed and he had the strange urge to push her the rest of the way onto it and... "I don't guess I am," he said, swallowing hard.

"But now you look nervous," she said with a grin.

He shook his head. "I ain't."

She stood up, grabbed his hand again and pulled him out of her room. "I'll give you a more thorough tour of my room later. I'm starving." She winked, clearly teasing him but he really wished that she hadn't said some shit like that.

He sat at the table in one of the two chairs and listened as she rambled about all of her plans once she really got settled in while she chopped and mixed and boiled and stirred whatever the hell she had bought to prepare for lunch.

"And I think I want to get a dog. A dog is a good thing to have, you know, in case someone shows up out here that I don't want visiting. It's happened twice already and I just had to lock the damn door and wait the bastard out," she grumbled, shaking her head.

He scowled. "Somebody tried to come in here on you?" He asked, understandably shaken at the thought of anybody wanting to hurt her. Hell, she was the nicest person he'd ever met in his life. The only damn friend he had. If somebody... well... "You want me to break his fuckin' face for you?"

She looked up then, her eyes wide and her brows raised, knife paused in mid chop. "Actually that sounds really amazing but you'd just end up in trouble. I can handle him."

"Is it the ex you were talkin' about?"

She smiled and pointed the knife at him. "You were listening to me. He isn't coming here being violent or anything like that. He's just finding it difficult to believe that I'm not interested in pursuing our relationship anymore. It's a little pathetic but it just makes me uneasy I guess. It's like he's convinced himself that I'll come around but I'm honestly not interested. We didn't even date very long." She shrugged.

The conversation slipped to different topics after that and he was finding it a lot easier to talk to her now than it had been when they'd been stuck together walking home. When she was finally finished with the food he was actually impressed with her skill. She seriously knew her way around the kitchen. She'd prepared some kind of thick beef stew that she actually served in a round bread bowl, which he thought was pretty over the top but it was so goddamn good he wasn't about to criticize a damn thing. They sat at the small table, talking between bites of food and he found that it was all coming easily now.

Once she took away their clean plates she brought him a beer and motioned towards the back door. Without a word he followed her onto the back porch and was surprised to find himself looking out over a small enclosed garden.

"Your grandma had a green thumb," he muttered sitting down next to her on the top step and taking a long pull from the bottle of beer she'd given him.

She nodded and took a drink herself. "I come out here all the time. Me and her did all of this when I was a little girl. I'm proud of it," she said with a smile.

"You ought to be."

She looked over at him, holding his gaze for a few tense moments before she spoke. "So, since I've impressed you with my mad culinary skills, what are the chances of you sticking around and watching a movie with me or something? You wouldn't believe how bored I've been out here by myself."

His eyes slid back to the garden and then he finally shrugged. "I ain't got nowhere else to be," he said. What he wanted to say was that he couldn't think of anywhere he'd rather be, but that was a bit much.