AN: Hi everyone. Just dropping off another little chapter for you here.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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Carol wanted a shower…it was a simple request. And it was one that Daryl felt almost obligated to grant since he really couldn't remember the last time she'd had one…but he wouldn't mention that either. So he was simply supposed to eat breakfast and watch Eliza Jo.
And it would have been simple if she was sleeping, but Eliza Jo did not think Daddy time while Mama took a shower was appropriate for sleep. She'd probably knock out the minute that Carol finished doing all the women things she was doing…but until then she was wide awake.
And she was unhappy about it.
Daryl reassured himself that Eliza Jo was not hungry. Carol had just finished feeding the baby…part of which she had spit up on Daryl to run down his chest, but he didn't think it was enough that she needed a refill.
She had zero interest in her pacifier…even though Carol thought it was some gift from the baby gods.
Daryl sat down on the couch, determined to figure out what Eliza Jo wanted, and balanced her in his lap, trying to hold her like Michonne had showed him, leaned over on his hand. He rubbed her back with the other one, patting it at intervals, hoping she might just need to burp some more…a good burp…one of those trucker burps.
But that wasn't it.
So the next logical conclusion, of course, was that if she'd just put something in, maybe she'd let something out too.
So Daryl took her, holding her to his chest and trying to cover every inch of her body with his hands because everyone had yelled at him enough about holding this or watching that that he was more than a little afraid that parts of her might randomly fall off if he didn't make sure she was covered, to the nursery and put her on her changing table where he held one hand over her, like he'd been shown, and gathered together the supplies he needed with the other.
"We gon' change ya diaper," he said, fumbling with the tiny buttons on the outfit his red faced daughter was wearing.
She balled up her tiny fists and screamed at him in protest, but food was first on the list, then burps, then diapers…so this was going to happen whether she liked it or not. And she didn't like it.
If she'd had the strength and ability to do it, which she still lacked at the moment, Daryl was pretty sure that his precious little daughter turned baby devil would have kicked him in the face and run away.
But he struggled through the diaper change, even though he didn't really think that the diaper he replaced was dirty, and then he fought to get her outfit snapped again, cursing to himself and swearing he was going to find some more damn clothes with zippers in them instead of the tiny ass buttons and snaps that most things seemed to have. Apparently baby clothing stores didn't realize that Daddies had big fingers and might be changing diapers on baby devils while Mamas tried to shower.
The diaper change not producing the effect that Daryl had hoped for, he scanned his memory for what was next in his list.
Food…burp…diaper…and there his mind drew a blank.
He gathered Eliza Jo back up as best he could, wishing he'd already become more comfortable than he was at transferring her from flat against his chest, which was how he typically moved her from one location to another if he had to do it all on his own, to cradled in his arm, which is what she typically preferred…but he wasn't comfortable with that move and keeping everything held into place like it was supposed to be.
And he hated to go into the bathroom and disturb Carol…after all…it was the first damn time the woman had even been in the bathroom alone for a while. She carried Eliza Jo around so often that Daryl had seen her take her with her to take care of her business rather than leaving her to scream somewhere.
"'Liza Jo…this shit's ridiculous," Daryl said. "What'cha want? I swear…I'll give it to ya…just give me some kinda damn sign what'cha want!"
Daryl carried the baby, plastered against his chest, into the living room and put her in the swing that Michonne had accidentally realized she didn't need anymore and fumbled with the clasps on it, snapping them around his daughter that was bucking against the little cradle that she was lying in. He turned the thing on so that it rocked and played music while some light up fish spun around.
Boredom was somewhere on his list and Merle had already said the kid was, in his opinion, a pocket sized stoner. Light up fish were bound to be fascinating.
But they weren't.
Daryl went over to the pack and play by the couch in search of peace offerings for the child he'd formerly considered his daughter but now suspected might be entirely against his existence on this planet.
Hot and cold were on his list somewhere and he knew she wasn't hot because it wasn't hot enough in the house for anything to be hot. So he got a blanket to test against cold and brought that, one of the soft rattling lambs that she had, and another pacifier over.
Daryl tucked the blanket around her and she kicked at it, still fighting her placement in the fish swing. He rattled the lamb and tucked it down next to her before putting the pacifier in her mouth.
When she started to look like she was choking on the pacifier he plucked it out and stared desperately at her. He sat down on the couch, trying to run through his list again in hopes that he'd forgotten the one thing that might be key to making her go to sleep or at least look like she didn't hate her existence and his.
He was sure, now, though he hadn't timed how long Carol had been in there, that she'd either drowned in the shower or she was in there hiding because she knew what was out here.
When he heard Carol padding through the house, Lincoln's toenails clicking as he escorted her, Daryl looked up. She was still dripping water, wearing clean pajamas…and she was barefoot.
"What is going on?" She asked.
Daryl didn't have to ask what she was questioning. By the sounds issuing forth from the little swing, totally drowning out the music that went along with the spinning fish, anyone could assume that the possession was almost complete.
"I broke her," Daryl said with a shrug. "I went through the damn list…ya fed her…I burped her…she threw up once an' then she didn't wanta burp no more…I changed her but she weren't dirty…she's got spinnin' fish, a rattle, a blanket…she didn't want no damn pacifier…"
Carol walked over to the swing and uncovered Eliza Jo from all the things he'd piled on her to try to make her happy. She unbuckled the still fussing baby…and with the skill he hadn't quite managed, somehow wrapped her in the blanket and landed the infant in the cradle position he almost coveted having the ability to achieve.
Carol was good at this shit…
Carol sat down on the couch beside Daryl, rocking Eliza Jo and talking to her in the voice that she reserved for her and for Lincoln.
"What did Daddy do to you? Did he pull on your toes and ears?" She teased, talking softly to the baby while she rocked her.
And slowly, the cries softened and then stopped and Eliza Jo…almost to taunt Daryl, yawned at Carol before making a noise that sounded like a contented growl.
Mommy: three thousand…Daddy: Nil
"Daryl…what's number one on your list?" Carol asked, her voice not changing. She smiled softly at him.
"Food…" Daryl said.
Carol shook her head.
"That's number two…what's number one?" Carol asked again, chuckling slightly.
Daryl frowned at her and shook his head…he already felt exhausted and he hadn't even finished getting ready to go to work.
"Don't panic," Carol said. "That's number one…before everything else…don't panic…she just wants to feel safe and comfortable…and panic doesn't feel safe and comfortable."
Daryl chuckled and shook his head.
"What?" Carol asked.
"I panicked an' forgot my fuckin' list," Daryl said.
Carol laughed, causing the baby to scold her.
"Did you eat breakfast?" Carol asked.
"Hell no…" Daryl said. "I was tryin' ta calm her ass down for like an hour…"
Carol chuckled.
"I wasn't in the bathroom thirty minutes, Daryl," Carol said. "You were trying to calm her for maybe twenty minutes…"
"Felt like a damn hour," Daryl said.
He groaned.
"Reckon I better get my ass cleaned up an' dressed…don't wanna be late again," Daryl said.
"You sure you don't want to stay here with Eliza Jo today? I could go to work for you…" Carol offered, teasing in her voice.
Daryl smirked at her.
"Looks ta me like ya got'cha shit covered right here," Daryl said. "I gotta work."
He winked at Carol before, with much thanks for his job, he went to get ready so that he could go and spend his day with cows that were quiet and easy to understand.
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Merle stretched his neck and nursed the shot of whiskey in front of him instead of tossing it back like he normally would. He glanced around the Watering Hole and took in the few new faces that he hadn't seen, as well as the new woman working there in the absence of Carol and Andrea.
Loretta surprised him, coming over and leaning on the bar in front of him, her ample breasts spilling out. She beat three times on the bar in rapid succession, snatching his attention.
"You're a married damn man, Merle Dixon," Loretta crowed. "Stop eyein' the goods…"
Merle smirked realizing he'd been caught red handed checking out the new working woman.
"Since when the fuck is married the same damn thing as dead?" Merle asked. "Who the fuck is she?"
Loretta looked at the young woman and growled in her throat.
"Says her name's Roxie…Roxie Mills or some damn shit like that…ain't from 'round here an' I'd bet the bar that ain't her name…you can bet…there's a story ta that one," Loretta said.
Merle chuckled.
"Reckon ever' damn body in here's got a story, Loretta," Merle said. "Otherwise they wouldn't be fit ta drink in a 'stablishment fine as this one here."
Loretta straightened up, wiping at the bar and produced another bottle of whiskey, tipping it to fill Merle's glass.
"She's alright," Loretta said. "Just old enough ta serve shit in a bar…twenty two."
Merle turned around, stealing one last glance at the woman. She was well built…a brunette…and he would have bet the pair of tits she was carrying around wasn't the pair that God gave her.
"She's alright, ya got that shit straight," Merle said.
He turned back to stare into the disapproving face of Loretta and chuckled. He tossed back the shot.
"Andrea know you're down here ogling the sorry ass woman I had ta hire ta replace her?" Loretta asked.
Merle frowned slightly.
"She don't know I'm here," he said, "but I reckon it won't take her long ta figure that shit out. I come ta talk ta ya 'bout Andrea…"
Loretta leaned back on the bar, her face close to Merle.
"What's up, sugah?" She asked, resting her chin on her hand.
"Ya got some damn work for her? Easy fuckin' night or somethin'?" Merle asked.
"Thought she couldn't carry trays," Loretta said. "Hell if she can work I'll take her ever' damn night she pleases. Best fuckin' hop I ever had…figured she'd take over this hell hole one damn day. Hate ta lose a workin' girl like that ta doin' some shit like hair."
Merle chuckled slightly and shook his head.
"Ain't like that…she's got her damn heart set on this hair shit she's aimin' ta do an' the damn place is comin' long nice…but she's 'bout as fuckin' low as a body can get 'fore ya start shovelin' dirt over it an' I was thinkin' gettin' back here…might make her ass feel better," Merle said.
Loretta looked concerned, but Merle continued.
"I don't want her ta know I was doin' this shit, though…so I was hopin' ya could call her up…set her up some easy ass shift or somethin'…like a damn Tuesday…don't mention I come down here," Merle said.
"Can she do it?" Loretta asked.
Merle shrugged, gnawing at his lip.
"A little she could, I reckon," he said. "Nothin' too damn heavy or too damn long…maybe work her with someone else that ain't Roxie there?"
Loretta growled in her throat again. Then she smiled at Merle.
"You're a good damn man, Merle Dixon," Loretta said. "Too damn bad ya try ta cover that shit up with bein' such an asshole."
Merle set his jaw.
"'Nough a' that shit…can ya do it or not?" He asked.
Loretta shook her head.
"Yeah…Tuesdays don't too much happen…regulars…I can call her up ta see 'bout gettin' her in here Tuesday," Loretta said. "Just me an' her workin' that night."
Merle nodded and took the shot she offered him before sliding off his stool and digging his billfold out of his back pocket. He picked through it and came out with a few bills. He dropped them on the bar in front of Loretta and she raised a brow at him.
"Time ta pay my tab," Merle said. "Rest a' that shit I want'cha ta break inta fuckin' ones an' put it in Andrea's jar…but not 'til she's been workin' a bit."
Loretta cocked her head to the side.
"It's your money…and you're married…why the hell don't'cha just give it to her yourself?" Loretta asked.
"Ain't the fuckin' point," Merle said. "Can ya just do the shit?"
Loretta nodded and collected up the bills.
"You got it," she said. "When ya comin' back in here?"
Merle shrugged.
"Prob'ly Tuesday," he said. He tipped his head at Loretta and turned, stealing one last glance at Roxie's shaking ass as she leaned over a pool table, and slipped out of the bar.
