Chapter 4

Carol sat Indian-style in the middle of her bed, leafing through the folder of paperwork from the beginning of her pregnancy to the end. Inside one sealed envelope was the information she had on the donor. Picture and all. She had it memorized. So why was she so anxious to open it now? To look at that face, into those eyes and see the man she's spent time with yesterday? The man she'd been so drawn to? The man she'd kissed?

She took a deep breath and opened it, pulling the folded piece of paper out. There he was. Much younger than, shorter hair, but there was no doubt that it was him. His profile listed him as a motorcycle mechanic who liked to hunt and read. She remembered liking that a man of his profession was also a reader. That, coupled with those eyes, she'd pegged him a soulful, intelligent and good with his hands.

She sighed heavily and stuffed the paper back in the envelope. She didn't regret, for one moment, having her children the way she had. If she hadn't, she wouldn't have the bright, amazing kids she had now. Still, it was the secret that loomed over her head.

Her phone rang, and she nearly flung it off the bed in her attempt to grab at it and see who was calling. Daryl. She chewed her lip for a moment, her mind flashing toward the future when she reveals to him that he's the reason she's a mother. Would he be angry? Would he accuse her of trying to trap him?

It wasn't as if she intended for any of this to happen. After all, he'd, at some point in his life, gone to donate sperm, knowing well enough that somebody might use it. Still, it made her anxious to think that somehow, out of all the men in the world, Rick's high school pal was the man she'd chosen.

She had the power to end it all right then. Al she had to do was tell him she didn't think it was a good idea to see one another again. Or she could just not answer. All she had to do was forget about him. But, the more she thought about it, the more her finger hovered over the screen. And then she answered, internally chastising herself for it.

"Hello?"

"Hey." His voice was low, tired. He sounded like he'd just rolled out of bed. Or maybe he was still in bed and the first thing he'd done was call her. She chewed her lip, squeezing her eyes shut as she sat there on the bed, waiting. "I wake you?"

"I've been up for hours," she laughed. "Rough night?"

"Didn't sleep worth a damn," he admitted. "Had a lot on my mind."

"I know what you mean," she said quietly. She took a deep breath and prepared to tell him it wasn't a good idea to go out again.

"Made a decision."

"You did?"

"M'gonna hire a manager for my shop. Took your advice. Guess it's better to still be makin' a profit but not have to be there all the damned time. I'm movin' back to Georgia. Wanted to let ya know."

"Daryl…I hope…I hope you didn't make that choice just because of me." Her face reddened at her own presumptuousness. The line was silent for a few moments. "Daryl?"

"It was good advice, so I took it," he offered. "'Course I ain't gonna lie. I liked spendin' time with ya last night."

"I liked that, too. I just don't want you to make a huge decision like this because of me. We barely know each other, and I don't…I don't want you to make a decision you're going to regret, especially because we might not…I mean…."

"Hey," he offered quietly. "You wanna go get breakfast?"

"Daryl, I'm being serious here. We barely know each other. I had fun last night, but you don't know everything about me. There are some things that…could be deal breakers."

"What, you got an extra toe or somethin'?" he snickered.

"No," she scoffed, unable to suppress a slight giggle at the ridiculousness of the question. "There are some things you don't know, and maybe when you find out, you won't…" She sighed heavily. "Things are complicated. My life is complicated."

"I already told ya I don't care that you're a mom. Bring 'em along to breakfast if you want."

"We already ate," she said with a sigh. "And it's noon. Breakfast is over."

"Well lunch then. Shit. I just wanna see you." Carol felt like she'd been punched in the gut. Here was this man doing everything he could just to spend time with her, and all she could do was try and excuse her way out of it and try to push him away.

"My kids are my life, Daryl. They're my babies, and they come first. I need you to know that."

"That's how it should be. Your kids are lucky to have a mom like you." He sighed. "I get it. Ya don't want me 'round 'em just yet."

"It's not that. I just…it would be a lot for them to adjust to. I'd like to see you again." Stop talking! This is a bad idea! Danger. Danger, Carol Morgan! "Tara already said she could babysit tonight. So if you're still willing to go out with a basket case, then I guess you can pick me up at eight."

"Just for the record, I don't think you're a basket case. And just so ya know, you ain't the only one with baggage. We all got things we don't want other folks to know about. Don't make ya bad people. Just makes ya human."

"Well, we'll see. There are some things I do want to tell you. I just don't…know how. And I'm…I don't think it's something I'm ready to talk about yet. I want to trust you, Daryl. But trust is a big issue for me. Ed…he's the last man I was ever serious with…he just completely changed, and that changed me."

"I get that," he murmured. "I don't trust easy. Hell, if my older brother wasn't in prison right now, I'd probably be like him, followin' him around and gettin' myself into all kinds of shit. Just sayin'…nobody's perfect. Nothin' you can tell me could scare me off. I already seen enough bad shit in my life." Carol sighed heavily, gripping the phone tightly in her hand.

"Some things are just too unbelievable. Trust me," Carol murmured. Daryl snorted.

"Well, you ain't a serial killer or somethin' like that, are ya?"

"No."

"Ain't that what a serial killer would say?" Carol thought for a moment before she snickered.

"Stop."

"Then whatever it is can't be that bad. Now you said eight, so I'm gonna be there at eight." A pause. "You still there?"

"Yeah, I'm still here." She sighed softly. "Alright. Eight o'clock." She hung up and buried her face in her hands. What the hell am I doing?

...

Michonne and Carol sat in the bleachers at the children's gym while Sophia, Sam and Andre ran around with the other kids. They tried to get the kids together on Saturdays to play with other kids. While Sam and Sophia had pre-school, Andre was still at least a year away, and it was nice for him to have the extra socialization. Besides, the twins had more energy than Carol could even keep up with, so it was a nice outlet for them to run some of it off so they could take a long nap when they got home.

"Ok, so you can totally say no if you want to." Carol eyed her best friend.

"Well, when you start a proposition like that, how can I say no?" Carol asked with a roll of her eyes. Michonne snickered.

"Ok, so you know Daryl flies back to New York tomorrow night, right?"

"Yeah," Carol said quietly.

"Well, you guys are gonna go do…whatever it is you guys are going to do tonight. And, the weather's supposed to be awesome tomorrow. Rick wants to have everybody over for a cook out. Just us, you and the kids, Daryl, and I think Tara's coming."

"Oh," Carol murmured. "The kids, too? Mich, I don't know."

"He's moving back. He's going to want to see you. Don't you think he's going to need to get to know the kids sooner or later? At least this way, it'll be neutral ground. Maybe it'll be more comfortable for you?"

"Mich, this might be a huge mistake," Carol insisted. "I'm in over my head here." She ran her fingers through her hair and glanced over at the kids as they played. "Look at them. They're so innocent. Nobody's hurt them yet. Nobody's broken their hearts. What if…what if Daryl and I get close? What if the kids get attached to him, and things don't work out? I couldn't hurt them like that. And if I tell him? What's he going to think? When I tell him too soon, is he going to think I'm crazy? That I'm trying to drive him away? If I wait to tell him, wait until things are too serious? He's going to think I'm trying to rope him into something. And what if…what if he feels some sort of obligation?"

"Whoa! Whoa, relax," Michonne interrupted, bringing her hand over to Carol's shoulder. "You're thinking way too far ahead."

"Shouldn't I be, though? I mean, think about it. This is…I'm sure this isn't something that happens every day. This is a delicate situation, and…I don't want my kids to get hurt."

"You don't want yourself to get hurt."

"Well, that, too, but I'm more worried about them. And him. He had no idea…"

"The man donated sperm. He knows there's a possibility he's got kids out there."

"But my kids? It's…well, how would you react if you were a man, and the woman you've been dating suddenly blurts out that you're the biological father of her kids? Wouldn't you have doubts? Wouldn't you question the foundation of everything you built with her?"

"Ok, this is too much," Michonne muttered, shaking her head. "You like him?"

"Yes."

"And he likes you. I say…tell him now. Rip off the bandage before you're both too far in that it's going to hurt. Tell him now and see how he reacts. At least you won't have this cloud hanging over you. If you do it now, he can't try to throw it back at you and say you were trying to trick him. You've tried to push him away."

"And if I wait…"

"If you wait, I mean, I get it. I understand it. You want to know what kind of man he really is. You tell him now, he might still be caught up in the crush stage and think 'well, now I have an instant family? Why not stay?"

"You're not helping," Carol cringed.

"I'm trying to help you flesh out the options. That's all. Look, the Daryl that Rick describes is a good man. You tell him now, he won't run for the hills. You wait? He might be angry. He might be upset. But I think he'd understand. You're a mother, and your kids come first. He gets that."

"He does," Carol nodded. "Oh, this is crazy. We're talking long term here. I've been on one date with him."

"Honey," Michonne said with a gentle smile, "there's a reason you're thinking long term here. You really like him. You want long term with him."

"I do. I…I really, really think I do. But I just met him, and I'm letting my hormones conflict with reality here, and…"

"Romance in the real world isn't supposed to play out like a goddamned fairy tale," Michonne stated, point blank. She rarely ever cursed, but when she did, it was to get your attention. "You of all people have seen that first hand. So you've got a secret? There's nothing wrong with that. You're not planning to keep him in the dark about it forever, are you?"

"Well, no."

"You're just biding your time, trying to figure out the best way to tell him that will be the least traumatic or painful or confusing, right?"

"Right?" Carol offered weakly before covering her face with her hands again. "I'm a mess, Mich."

"I've got a little secret," Michonne offered, pulling her arm around Carol's shoulders. "You ready for it?"

"Please."

"We're all a mess. Some of us are just a lot better at hiding it."

...

The phone rang at 7:45. Tara was in the bathroom with the twins, supervising bath/splash all the water all over the babysitter, the floor and the walls time. Carol was standing in front of her mirror in her bra and panties, trying to decide if what she had picked out to wear was appropriate enough for a second date.

"Thank God," she murmured, answering the phone, figuring that since it was Daryl, he was calling to either cancel or to tell her he was running late, which would give the coked up vampire bats that had replaced the butterflies in her stomach time to settle down. "Hello?"

"Hey, I'm gonna be 'bout ten minutes late. Hit some heavy traffic on the way in. You ready?"

"Depends on what you mean ready. You didn't tell me anything about where we're going."

"I didn't."

"No, you didn't." A beat. "So, jeans and t-shirt? Skirt and heels?"

"What are you wearing right now?" he asked, his tone less suggestive than she expected, more curious.

"Well, I'll put it to you this way, if I wear what I'm wearing now, the police would be escorting us out of a lot of places."

"Oh." She heard what sounded like a choke coming from his end, and she couldn't suppress the grin that spread over her face. "Well, y'know, we could just stay in." She snorted at that.

"Right, because it's easier to date a basket case in her own environment. You know, no sudden movements, and all that."

"Exactly," he played, a little chuckle escaping, relaxing her immensely. "Uh, jeans and a shirt should be fine. We ain't goin' nowhere fancy."

"Good idea. Probably best not get my shaky hands anywhere near candle light and fancy glassware on the second date, right?"

"Hey," he murmured, his voice low, quiet, soothing. "I'm glad you wanted to see me again. Really wanted to see you. Just don't do this much, so I wasn't sure what we should do. I hope ya like it, though."

"I'm sure I will. I don't do this much either, remember? All you have to do is call Michonne. She can give you the very short list of all the men I've had first dates with and nothing else in the past few years." She suddenly realized how that sounded. "Wow, um, I didn't mean that to come out the way it sounded. I just mean, usually, my first dates are disasters, and second dates just aren't, you know, offered up." She cleared her throat and put her phone on speaker, quickly wriggling into her jeans. "How's traffic?"

"Startin' to thin out. I'll be there in a bit, alright?"

"Alright. See you then." Carol hung up, and she finished dressing, zipping up her jeans and pulling the blouse over her head. She studied herself in the mirror, feeling a bit self-conscious at the way the red shirt clung to her form. She had a nice body, she could admit that, but the way the neckline dipped enough to expose just the slightest hint of cleavage had her feeling more nervous than she had on her their first date.

She contemplated grabbing a jacket but decided against it, pulling on a comfortable pair of flats and grabbing for her purse. She ran her fingers through her short hair, styling it a bit. When she was finally satisfied, she headed down the hall where Tara stood, soaked from bath water, wrapping the twins up in one big, fluffy towel.

"Sweetie, I think they got more water on you than they did on themselves," Carol offered, getting a glare from Tara.

"Mama, can we meet your date?" Sophia asked with a giggle, looking up at her mother with those bright, blue eyes.

"Honey, it's past your bedtime as it is. Maybe some other time, ok?" Carol asked gently, kneeling down to wrap her toweled babies in a big bear hug.

"You look pretty, Mama," Sam offered, kissing his mother on the cheek.

"Thank you, baby." Carol gave them both kisses before standing and anxiously pulling at the hem of her shirt. Tara took that as her cue to send the kids off and get a last minute chat in with the nervous mama.

"Alright, twins, go get dressed. No playing around, or I'll have to find that tickle monster to come tuck you in." The twins shrieked with laughter before rushing down the hall to their room to put on their pajamas. Tara wrapped the towel around herself, and Carol giggled.

"That shirt's soaked. You can use the dryer and borrow one of my tops if you need to."

"Thanks," Tara muttered. "Please, tell me that you're going to get some tonight, so this night won't be totally wasted."

"Tara Chambler, I think you need to go out and find yourself somebody, because you are far too preoccupied with my love life."

"Hey, I just haven't met the right girl yet. When she comes along, I'll know it. So just relax. I've got this under control."

"If by under control, you mean sitting in your tiny apartment playing online video games with your roommate, Glenn, then yes, you have it all under control."

"Oh, there she is! I love sassy Carol. That's the Carol that needs to come out on this date. Nervous wreck Carol is adorable and all, but sassy Carol's gonna get the goods. I just know it."

"Oh, shut up," Carol laughed. Then the doorbell rang, and Carol jumped.

"You really need to relax. Maybe you should have had some wine first," Tara offered.

"No. No wine. I need to do this sober. If the only way I can be calm on a date is to have a drink, then I think I have a serious problem. I can do this." She took a deep breath. "I can do this, right?"

"You can do this," Tara said with an encouraging smile and a nod. "Now go, before he changes his mind." Carol flashed her a glare, and Tara just winked before heading off to help the twins with their pajamas.

Carol's heart nearly thundered out of her chest with each footfall down the stairs, and by the time she reached the door, a sweat had broken out at her temple. She quickly wiped the perspiration away with the back of her hand and opened the door, trying hard to smile in a flirty, happy-to-see-you way and not in a creepy, in intense pain kind of way, which she imagined was exactly what her face looked like in her heightened state of anxiety.

There he stood, looking even more gorgeous than she remembered. He wore a pair of jeans and a button down shirt that was cut off at the sleeves. She silently thanked the heavens that she'd settled on casual, too, but her nerves went back on full alert when she spotted what he had slung over his shoulder.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Hey," he said with a chuckle, leaning in to quickly brush his lips against hers, something else she was very thankful for. That quick kiss was enough to break the ice slightly, setting the tone for a relaxed evening. As the worry began to melt away, she brought her hand up, tracing her fingers along the strap on his shoulder.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Yep."

"Ok, so if I knew we were bringing weapons on our date, I'd have gone shopping earlier." She winked. She fucking winked. She never winked, but God, he brought something out in her. "So, why the crossbow?"

"I'm gonna teach ya how to do use it."

"So…we're going hunting?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and looking up at the night sky.

"Not exactly," he chuckled. "You trust me?" She felt her stomach do another flip, and she swallowed hard, giving him a little nod. He reached out for her hand and nodded his head toward the car. "C'mon. It's gonna be fun."