I hope you guys are still enjoying this one. Here's the next installment.
Daryl went and put his hedge trimmers up in the storage building behind the house and followed Carol up the steps. There was a strange, unfamiliar flutter taking place in the put of his stomach as he mounted each step that would lead them to her front door and into her house.
Many times over the last few days Daryl had ran into her before he was leaving for work or just as he'd be getting home. Each and every time he'd felt an urge to talk to her. Maybe ask her how her day was going. Once, he'd even considered inviting her to go to Lori and Rick's with him. In the end, however, he hadn't. He'd fought that urge like it was something that would kill him if he followed through with it.
He'd simply settled for offering shy waves in her direction, miniscule "hello's or "see you later's" as they passed by one another. And each time it elicited an internal battle within him. Making him ponder why he hadn't said more, before quickly reminding himself it was for the best.
But now that she'd been the one to invite him over, the one to initiate this contact between them, he found himself eager to spend time with her. That anxious feeling that often plagued him and he'd grown so accustomed to living with lingered in his bones, yet it was mixed with a peculiar excitement at the thought of being around her. Which was bizarre enough in itself, because he wasn't really big on hanging around people. Rick and Lori, sometimes Glenn and Maggie, Merle's friends here and there, but definitely not a situation where he was a lone with a woman.
Not unless you counted a few of rare times he was feeling social enough to go out and grab a few drinks until he was comfortable enough to pick up some random woman that would give him the time of day to let him fuck her. But even then, he was eager to get the hell out of their once the deed was done. Never bothering to hang around for any awkward conversation that might result afterwards.
He wasn't fool enough to think that whatever conversation, if much at all, transpired between them today wouldn't carry a hint of uncomfortability with it. Of course it would. It was always like that for him with new people. It didn't help that he happened to find her physically attractive, despite being six months pregnant with another mans child, or that she seemed to make up the very definition of unattanble to him. But somehow, for whatever unimaginable reason, he found he didn't care. Not today.
He forced himself to calm his nerves as they stepped into her small kitchen. He'd just end up saying something stupid or staring at her or her bellylike a jackass if he didn't force himself to bury some of that tension he always seemed to carry with him.
His eyes scanned the room, offering a brief distraction from the whirlpool that was his own mind. He couldn't help noticing how homey she'd made the place look compared to the dull, empty white room it had been when she moved in.
Nick Nacks in the shape of small animals were splayed all around. Brightly colored fruit and vegetable shapes hanging on the walls. A large spice rack, filled to the brim, rested on the corner of the counter. Intricately carved cutting boards hung from the walls. Glass oil and vinegar dispensers resting on the counter. A cake holder with freshly made pound cake, missing a single slice, was on the counter next to the toaster. A small, marble laminate dining table was placed on the far end of the kitchen. And the stainless steel refrigerator was covered with pictures which were being held in place by magnets.
Daryl took a step forward to inspect the pictures. A much younger, child version of Maggie and Beth could be seen standing next to Carol, who was also a great deal younger, probably late teens. She was sporting head a head full of curly, auburn hair. She was wearing a flowing, strapless violet dress that had a split in the front, exposing her long legs.
"That was a long time ago." Carol commented, noticing how he was staring at the picture. "My senior prom."
He snapped his eyes away from the picture at the sound of her voice. "You're hair was really long." He muttered, it was the first thing that seemed to pop into his head.
She swept a hand over her short, pixie cut and chuckled. "Some days I miss it being that long. Other days, I remember how untamable it gets, especially in the humidity, and I remind myself it's so much easier to deal with now. I'm sure I looked better with it longer, but I've always been the type of person that prefers being comfortable to being...sexy? I guess that's how you'd say it."
Part of him wanted to tell her that it looked just fine like it was. That he thought she was damn pretty just like she was, but he wasn't that bold. And she might not wanna hear him say that. He'd told her that once, more or less, when she was in that maternity dress. She would probably think he was some sort of weirdo if he said it again.
He decided to change the subject. It seemed like the safest route. "Merle's hair gets pretty damn curly if he don't keep it buzzed." He put his hands above his head for emphasis. "Shit looks like he put his finger in a light socket it he lets it grow out."
She smiled, trying to image his brother with a head full of hair, but somehow she couldn't quite seem to picture it.
Her smiling at him like that made his stomach do a strange flip flop. Something he wasn't used to feeling, and he didn't like it, because he didn't know what it meant, so he darted his eyes to back to the refrigerator. They landed on the top left corner, where a pink magnet that spelled out "Sophia" in cursive was being used to hold a grainy, black and white picture in place.
He squinted to get a better glimpse. He could make out the shape of a head and a small body. One hand was resting in front of the face and it looked like the thumb was being sucked.
"That's Sophia." Carol told him, softly. "It's a sonogram picture from two weeks ago."
"I know." He grunted. She likely assumed he hadn't known what it was, from his seemingly bare knowledge of pregnant women and his fidgety nature any time he was around her. But Rick had a similar picture of his unborn boy that stayed in his truck, resting in front of the odometer. And each time he and Lori were given new sonogram photos Rick was eager to show them off to Daryl. Particularly the last one that had showed they were having a boy. "Rick and Lori have a bunch of them. Rick's always shoving them under my nose whenever he gets a new one."
"He's really excited. I could tell the other night. The way he talked about his unborn son. He's going to be a good father."
She'd said it as a compliment, but her voice came out a little strained, and Daryl didn't miss the change in her eyes when he looked over at her. The lightness she'd been carrying in them had fleeted and was replaced with something else. Anger? Disappointment? Sadness? Regret? He wasn't really sure. Whatever it was, it made him feel a flash of anger at her child's father. Anger at a man he didn't know. A man he'd probably never know.
His eyes veered back to the photo of the unborn child. He'd never been big on the idea of having a child. It seemed like a huge commitment, one he wasn't sure he would ever be ready to make. One he wasn't sure he would ever be prepared, or even equipped, for. But he'd like to think that if he'd been unwillingly fated to that destination, if a condom would have broken one ill fated night or one of his boys would have escaped, he'd like to think he would have manned up and done the right thing. He probably wouldn't have forced himself to be with the kid's mama, but he would have been there for the kid. He would have helped the kid's mama, even if he wasn't with her.
Because he'd honestly never seen something as innocent as that picture looked right now. Sophia sucking her thumb as she rested in her mama's womb. She was a blank slate. No knowledge of how shitty this world she was coming into could be. No knowledge of how shitty and cold people, even ones that were your blood, could be.
And even though it wasn't his problem, and he shouldn't be worried about it at all, he couldn't help be bothered by how unfair it was that her daddy had skipped out on her. He couldn't help but think that this kid, this unborn kid, deserved better. That the woman standing next to him, the soft spoken, pretty, sweet woman deserved better.
He chewed at the inside of his lip as he forced his eyes to meet hers. "Think you'll make a fine mama yourself." He mumbled. Hoping to give her some words of encouragement. Some hope to push back whatever emotion she was feeling.
She seemed surprised by his comment, but it made the corner of her lip turn up, and her heart swelled a bit. "Thank you, Daryl. I hope you're right."
He swayed his foot back and forth, causing the heel of his boot to scrub the tile, a squeaking sound filling the room. His heart hammered behind his chest as a need to say more encompassed him. But it was fighting with his overwhelming need to keep his mouth shut like normal. To stop himself from saying something foolish. Something he'd regret. Somehow, the former need managed to take control of his regular insecurities and his lips started moving. "You'll be just fine. It takes a hell of a woman to do that. You know? Raise a kid on her own. Your little girl, she's gonna respect the hell out you for it one day. Shit, she'll probably end up being one tough bitch because of it if you ask me."
Maybe she should have been offended that he'd just referred to her unborn child as "one tough bitch" but she understood that he hadn't meant it negatively or in any derogatory sense. He'd just given her and her untested parenting skills a compliment, and it made her feel good, because sometimes she felt a little scared to think about how Sophia would eventually feel about not having her father in her life. About all the ways she might go wrong being a single mother.
It also made her a little uneasy at how much this man's words seemed to mean to her and effect her mood. She didn't know him well enough for those words to bring about such a strong reaction in her. Yet, they did. She cleared her throat, trying to push away everything bubbling just beneath the surface of her mind. "That's very sweet of you to say." She pointed to his grimy arms. "You know? Um..Why don't? Why don't you go wash up while I get dinner ready?"
He looked down at his dust covered arms and his brow furrowed. He really should have insisted that he go change before he came over here. He didn't even wanna think about what he smelled like right now. He'd forgotten to put deodorant on this morning before working in the yard. And whenever he did that, for some reason, his pits ended up smelling like that dank weed Merle smoked.
His brother loved the smell. He said that's how you knew it was good shit. Daryl didn't care for it. That shit was rank and the scent lingered in the house long after Merle was done smoking.
He nodded his head at her, to let her know he agreed that cleaning up was a good idea.
"Bathroom's the first door on your..." She stopped herself, blushing furiously. "Never mind. You already know that. You're the one that gave me the grand tour."
Her cheeks were flaming red, it seemed to make the blue in her eyes stand out even more, and he couldn't help but think she was cute when she was embarrassed. What the fuck? Did he just think that she was cute? That word wasn't even in his vocabulary. And on top of that, why the fuck did he care so much if he was dirty and smelly? He spent most of his life in those two states. It never bothered him before. What in the hell was she doing to him?
This time he was the one to clear his throat. "I'll uh...I'll be right back."
()()()
When Daryl stepped out of the kitchen to go wash up, Carol was suddenly hit with the realization that she actually didn't have anything cooked for either of them to her haste and excitement to invite him over, it hadn't occurred to her that she hadn't even started on dinner.
Hell, she hadn't even taken anything out to get started. Not that she didn't have plenty to eat, she did. Her refrigerator was stocked. She enjoyed cooking. Even if it was just her, she normally made sure to prepare herself a full meal. It occupied her mind, as well as her time. Plus, it made her think of her own mother. They used to spend hours together in the kitchen, baking and trying new recipes. It made her feel close to her.
Carol's freezer was stocked with frozen meats. Pork chops, chicken, cube steak. Those would offer a wide variety of meal options. But it would take forever for them to thaw and she didn't exactly know how to entertain Daryl for that long while they waited.
She opened her refrigerator, vigorously scanning it for left overs she could serve up for tonight's meal. But she came up with nothing. Knowing it was just her here, she hadn't exactly been serving up heaping amounts of food each night.
The sound of the water cutting off and Daryl's foot steps heading back towards the kitchen had her muttering curse words under her breath. She could admit she'd been lonely and in the mood for company and just hastily invited him over without bothering to prepare food for them both. But she wondered how that would sound?
Would he take that as her assuming this was some type of date? That her saying she was lonely meant she needed a man in her life? Would he think she was looking for a husband? Would he think she was looking for a father for her child? She didn't wanna scare him off, especially since she was really only seeking his friendship.
She decided to try and play it off the best she could. She closed her refrigerator and turned to to face. Giving him a light, friendly smile. "Now that you're back, I wanted to see what you'd like for dinner. My treat, whatever you want, tell me and it's yours."
He pursed his lips, looking up, as if pondering what to chose. Finally, he looked back at her, his voice as serious as it could be. "Lasagna would be good."
Carol could feel herself growing nauseous from his suggestion, the aroma of the lasagna Rick had intended them to eat for dinner filled her brain and a scent she knew wasn't there seemed to waft to her nose. She gaped at him, wondering if he'd forgotten how she'd botled for his bathroom only days ago while in the presence of that particular food.
The faint curl of his lip, resulting in that signature tight, closed lip grin of his let her know he did indeed remember, and that his suggestion had been his attempt at a joke. Daryl Dixon was capable of joking with her? Who knew? She shook her head at him, disapprovingly, yet unable to hide the hint of amusement she was feeling. "You must have a thing for getting me on my knees and making me gag?" She teased back.
Daryl's eyes grew wide as saucers, and the slight grin he'd been sporting faded. He was clearly taken back from her quip. His faced turned as red as the shirt he was wearing and he violently shook his head and started stammering. "I...I'm not...I didn't..."
She chuckled at him. So much for not trying to scare him off, she supposed. "You can joke and I can't? That's not a very fair relationship." She saw the almost terrified look that lingered on his face and quickly corrected herself. "Friendship. It's not a very fair friendship."
He looked at her curiously, tilting his head to the side. "That what we are? Friends?"
"I'd like for us to be." She boldly admitted, an unexpected confidence surging through her. "I mean, maybe that sounds strange, maybe it doesn't make sense, but I think I'd like to consider you a friend. . Because, from what I can tell and what I've heard from Uncle Hershel and the rest of my family, you seem like a really good person. A person I'd really like to get to know better. Believe it or not, good people are kinda hard to come by these days."
Good people were hard to find, he thought to himself. People he liked and could tolerate to be around were even fucking harder to find. Yet, somehow, she seemed to fit both categories. "I ain't usually too big on friends." He admitted, shyly. "Kinda a loner if you ain't noticed." He watched her face fall and realized he'd started off completely wrong. He fumbled in an effort to correct himself."But uh...yeah...yeah...friends is good. You ain't so bad yourself. Me and you...we can be friends if you want that...think I'd like that."