Daryl got home around three a.m.
Leah was on a barstool in the kitchen, expressionless. She kept her eyes on his feet while he crossed the living room, though. Checking to see if he was drunk. Whatever, Daryl didn't care, he wasn't. And hell, even if he had been, what would she do? Yell some more? Nah. More likely she'd ask him to remind her what it was like.
"Find a slut?" she asked as he came into the kitchen.
"No one in my price range." He dropped a grocery bag in front of her. She eyed it, eyed him, then there was the soft rustling of plastic and Leah pulled out a smaller, more colorful bag. Her eyes narrowed. The lighting was dim in the kitchen, she only had the bulbs above the counter on, and even irritated her eyes had a nice gleam to them. So did her hair. She was gorgeous.
Daryl wasn't drunk, but he was sure as hell buzzed.
"You know I can't have caffeine." She held up the bag. It was coffee, Hotchkin's Best, her favorite brand. Hazelnut flavored and all. Daryl shrugged off his jacket, nodded.
"All that time in law school, they never taught ya to read?"
So Leah looked at the bag again, longer, and soon gasped. Because below the large, curling letters of Hazelnut were the smaller green blocky ones spelling out Decaffeinated.
"How the hell did you find this? I looked everywhere, no one had this in decaf!"
"There's a store, not far from work. Owned by my boss's brother. Go there for lunch sometimes. And a beer." Again, he gestured at the coffee, which Leah now hugged against her chest in a loving manner Daryl could only hope she'd exhibit for their baby. "He had that tonight."
He didn't tell her he'd asked his boss's brother to keep an eye out for the stuff.
Leah let the coffee rest in her lap with a tiny sigh and a smile, but the smile didn't last long. "Go to the store for a drink?"
Daryl nodded and crossed his arms on the bar. She was at one end and he was at the other.
"Where else did you go?"
"Just drove around, mostly." And what the hell? "Stopped at Merle's for a couple hours."
"You bitch about me?"
"Yep."
"Well, I called my mom and bitched about you, so I guess I can't complain."
Silence inside the house. Outside, though, there were crickets chirping, singing away like it was the one and only purpose to life. Daryl liked the crickets. They made it easier to pretend the house was somewhere else.
"You know," Leah said after a while, "I don't have any friends besides you. I realized that tonight. I mean, there's my mom, but we're so different . . ." She laughed. Not a good laugh. "And she hasn't really approved of many of my recent choices. . . I should have a girlfriend to call, you know? Or two. Or three. I should have girls' nights and go out for margaritas and complain about you to sympathetic ears, but I don't. And honestly, it's not really something I miss . . . But I'd miss you."
Daryl didn't know how to reply to that so he didn't try. She didn't ask him to.
Crickets chirped.
He stood, cleared his throat, went around the bar and to the counter, opened a cabinet and grabbed a glass. "How'd the sonogram go?" Better late than never. "The baby fine?"
He was at the sink filling the cup when Leah answered. "She's coming along just right."
The glass was only a third of the way full but Daryl stopped the faucet anyway.
"She?"
"She."
She. Little Hellraiser was a she. A daughter. Leah's. And his. "Well, let's hope she looks like you. Acts like neither of us." He drank the water, but it didn't seem to do anything, his mouth stayed dry. He should have downed more beer tonight, that's what would have helped.
She.
This is what he had wanted. A girl. But now the idea made his throat tighten, so much that he couldn't even force down the last gulp of water he needed so badly and he ended up just dumping it out and turning to Leah, who was watching him. Shit. He tried to make something like a smile happen, but it didn't, so instead he found himself beside her, running his fingers up and down her arm. She rested her chin on her shoulder and followed his hand with her eyes.
This was supposed to be a better moment than this.
He could fix it. More or less. I would miss you, too, that's all it would take. He had forgotten the sonogram. He hadn't been there, staring at the shape on the screen while Leah held his arm, while the doctor said to start buying pink. He'd stormed out of the house and left the mother of his unborn daughter crying.
I would miss you, too.
Easy to say, and it would make things alright. Or close enough. Close enough for them to try and be happy. They should be happy right now.
"I'll sleep on the couch if you want me to," he said.
"I'm not your wife. I can't tell you what to do."
"Never seems to stop you from tryin'."
"Come to bed."
She got up and headed for their room, leaving the coffee on the bar and Daryl with the right words dead on his tongue.
