AN: Here we go, another chapter.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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"If there's any emergency, you'll let me know about it right away. Other than that? I'll call Mama every evening about a half hour before you clock out. That should catch you getting her ready and she can talk a few minutes. I'll call you on your cell and check in, if that's OK, but I'm trusting you to handle everything the best way that you think it can be handled," Sophia said, digging through her purse for something as she stood by Daryl's truck and "kept him company" during his break. "I'll be back in a week and I can stay for a while except for quick trips that I'll have to make back and forth every now and again."
"A week is a while, Sophia, in her world," Daryl said.
"And it's the best I can do," Sophia said. "If I'm going to work from Georgia, there are things I'm going to have to take care of. There are things I have to get in order and people I have to put in place to handle things for me when I can't be there. Besides—I've got a lot of confidence in you, Daryl. I think that you can handle everything in my absence. You have until now."
"What about...you know?" Daryl asked. Sophia widened her eyes at him and then she shrugged in question. "She hasn't said anything about what she thinks she remembers and I'm waiting on that shoe to drop."
Sophia started shaking her head before she got around to answering him.
"That shoe isn't going to drop," Sophia said. "Not for a long time. Daryl—you don't have to be afraid of anything. What she thinks she remembers? She remembers it as being wonderful. That's the word that my mother—the woman I can never remember saying anything was more than good or great in my whole life—used to describe you. I don't know exactly what your relationship was like in her mind, but I have to admit that I'm a little bit jealous."
Daryl felt his cheeks grow a little warm at the discussion, even if it was over a relationship that never existed in the first place.
"I just don't know how to handle it if she brings it up," Daryl said.
"For now?" Sophia responded. "We agreed you would sort of humor her. That's all. We'll clear it all up as her memory starts to come back and she's completely out of the woods."
Daryl shook his head at Sophia noncommittally. He wasn't negating what she was saying, that was what they agree on, but rather he was simply letting her know that he still wasn't a hundred percent comfortable with the whole thing. He couldn't set Carol straight, though, even if he wanted to, unless she were to bring it up. And so far, she hadn't brought it up in his presence.
Sophia sighed and leaned against the hood of Daryl's truck.
"My mother is not a man eater," Sophia said. "She never has been. She was married to my father and that relationship wasn't always in her best interest. After the divorce? She's had three boyfriends in her whole post-married life. Three, Daryl. And all of those were short lived. The first was short lived because he really couldn't handle the whole you had a kid with another man thing. The second? That was mostly because he was a kid. He just happened to be trapped in a man's body. The third? She split with him because she saw some tendencies there that reminded her of a road that she didn't want to go back down. She's not going to say anything to you because she thinks that you're overwhelmed with the whole situation—her accident, the fact that you're taking care of her, the whole nine yards. And it isn't hard to see where she's getting that idea from. Daryl, you need to relax."
"She's gonna say something eventually," Daryl said.
"Maybe," Sophia ceded. "But right now? She doesn't want to do anything that might put in jeopardy what she remembers. Or what she thinks she remembers, however you want to phrase it. She wants to give you the time and the space that you need to get back to being what you were."
"To get back to being where the hell I never been," Daryl pointed out.
"Back to where she thinks you were," Sophia said. If eye-rolling had a tone of voice, Daryl had just heard it come out of the woman's mouth. "The point is that she isn't going to push you. She doesn't want to push you."
"That's great," he said. "So she's thinking we're in a relationship and I can't handle what's going on, but it was so wonderful before?"
"She's thinking that you're nervous about it," Sophia said. "And she's thinking that—it's a lot. It's a lot for her, so why wouldn't it be a lot for you?"
"And when she's telling you this," Daryl said, "what are you doing? What are you saying?"
"I'm not saying anything," Sophia said. "I'm listening to my mother talk about something that makes her happy when she talks about it."
"But it isn't real," Daryl pointed out.
Sophia shrugged.
"Some of the things that make us the happiest in our lives aren't real," Sophia said.
"But this isn't believing in Santa Clause or the Easter Bunny or whatever else," Daryl said. "It's not about some kind of fantasy. She believes it is real—at least from what you're telling me."
Sophia tipped her head to the side and stared at Daryl with the look of boredom on her face that she'd gotten more than once over the few days that she'd spent there with her mother.
"When she gets her memory back," Sophia said, "will it come back all at once or a little along?"
"I have no idea," Daryl admitted. "I'm gonna guess a little along."
"And when do you think it'll come back? Off the record?" Sophia asked.
"Can't say that either," Daryl said. "Could be five minutes from now or five years. I don't know."
"But a good guess?" Sophia pressed.
"When she goes home," Daryl said. "When she—gets back in her space and sees her things. When—she's feeling like her and not like a patient. That's my guess."
"And when she goes home," Sophia said, "then she'll see that there aren't any pictures of you and her together. She'll see that—there aren't any vacation pictures. There aren't any keepsakes from your relationship. It'll be easier then to tell her that Santa Clause isn't real because she can see that there isn't a North Pole."
Daryl swallowed and nodded.
"So let it ride," he said. "Just a little while longer." Sophia nodded and Daryl mirrored her movement. "I just don't want to see her get hurt," Daryl admitted.
An insincere smile crossed Sophia's lips. Maybe there was actually some sadness to it.
"That makes two of us," Sophia said. "And that's why—I know I can trust you. To handle this—however it needs to be handled, and in the best way possible. I trust you."
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"Don't—move until I know what's happening!" Carol said suddenly. She went totally rigid and Daryl had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at her.
Carol was a good sport about most everything, but she was something of a nervous Nelly. Daryl was pretty sure that she'd have let him do absolutely anything to her that he wanted to do—but she was going to need it detailed out to her in advance. She needed to prepare for it, no matter what it was. She liked to prepare for everything, he'd learned, from the smallest needle stick to shampooing her hair.
"Relax," Daryl urged her. "Just relax. I'm just gonna pick you up and I'm gonna move you to the wheelchair. Jake's gonna move with us and help me make sure I get everything. Then? I'll put you in the chair and we'll go for a walk. No different than when we went to the other chair."
Carol was already partially in Daryl's arms and he felt her relax a little.
"Where are we going?" Carol asked.
"Wherever you want to go," Daryl said. "Getting you outta the room. That's all. A little trip around the floor. Can you relax? So I don't accidentally hurt you?" Carol sucked in a breath, but when she let it out, she did make her muscles relax. Daryl tested her by lifting her the slightest bit off the bed and then he nodded in Jake's direction. "I'm gonna lift her and you help me get everything?"
"I'm on it," Jake confirmed.
The longest part of moving Carol to the wheelchair was getting her to relax into the change of environment. As soon as she was settled in the chair, Jake told them to have a good trip and he left the room. Daryl arranged the pillows for Carol, gave her a blanket to retain some of her dignity, and made sure that they were ready to be fully mobile.
"You good?" Daryl asked. Carol hummed. She was still working on becoming fully relaxed. "You sure?" Daryl asked. "You're comfortable?"
"Can I have—some water before we go?" Carol asked. Daryl laughed and went for the cup that he brought to her. Carol drank some of it and wiggled around in the chair before she handed him the cup back. "I have a lot of stuff, Daryl," Carol said.
Daryl hummed at her. He thought he might take her around to visit one or two of his other patients. He'd show her, then, what having a lot of stuff really looked like. She was down to some of the bare necessities and he would have her functioning without those before too long.
"You're doing great," Daryl said. "Better than I ever would've thought. But—I want to get you used to touring around in style because they're going to want to take you for tests soon. And when they do? Wouldn't you rather spend your time at the hospital resting in a wheelchair than having them push you around in a rolling bed?"
"I'd rather not go at all," Carol said. "I don't like the whole—moving around thing. And I hate the machines. I can't breathe in there. I felt like I was going to die before they finished and it didn't help that they just kept telling me that if I moved I'd have to spend longer in there."
Daryl got everything ready for them to move, satisfied himself that they were as ready to go as they'd ever be, and started to push the chair. Carol didn't protest, so he assumed that she was simply along for the ride until she started giving him instructions.
"Claustrophobic?" Daryl asked. "Is that why they bother you?"
"I guess," Carol said. "I just got scared."
"Overwhelmed, too," Daryl said. "But there's nothing to be scared of. All the torture we put you through? It's just to help you. Nobody wants to hurt you."
"You can tell me that," Carol said, "but—it doesn't mean that my brain understands it."
Daryl laughed.
"I guess that's true for most anything anybody tells us," Daryl said.
He pushed her out into the main hallway and she looked from side to side like she was on a sightseeing tour instead of like she was being pushed through Spring Valley. Rachel called out Daryl's name from behind the main nurse's station and Daryl waved at her.
"Is this Carol?" Rachel asked, coming from behind the station. Daryl slowed their forward progress to a stop.
"This is Carol," Daryl said. "And Carol, this is Rachel. One of our many talented nurses here. I believe her favorite area to work in is the active rehab area."
"Active rehab?" Carol asked.
"That's what we call the area that you should've been moved to," Rachel said, some teasing in her voice as she gave Daryl a scolding look. She smiled at Carol. "But Daryl wouldn't let you go, so you're not in my section."
"Just means all the patients are in active states of recovery," Daryl said, clarifying everything for Carol. He'd explained it before, but her short term memory wasn't exactly perfect at the moment. "Whereas—some of my patients don't make any progress for a long time, so people think they might not be making any at all, those in the active area make continual progress. Like you're doing."
"You can always join us over there," Rachel offered. "If you decide you want to move. Daryl could take you to tour it. Just down the hall over there and around the corner. We've got a nice entertainment room."
"That you can use even if you don't stay over there," Daryl said. He nodded at Rachel, trying to bid her farewell without having to say that he'd talked to her for about as long as he could tolerate. She seemed to understand the nod—since all of them knew that he wasn't one for conversation—and she quickly told Daryl and Carol to enjoy their excursion. Daryl pushed Carol forward, doubling his steps a little to put some distance between them, and Carol kept quiet for a few moments. Daryl finally cleared his throat. "I'll take you to see the entertainment room," Daryl said. "Books and movies—cards and—I think some games. And—she was right. If you want to move, I can talk to Sophia about it. You could move if you wanted to."
"I don't want to move," Carol said quietly. Daryl stopped walking and looked around to get a glimpse of her face since her tone of voice made him worried that the whole encounter might have been too much for her. She wasn't crying, but she did look a little distraught.
"Something hurting?" Daryl asked, going for the safest question first. She shook her head. "You need something?" She shook her head again. "You—wanna talk about it?"
"I'd rather not move," Carol said.
Daryl laughed to himself.
"Then you don't move," he said. "Problem solved. When you leave your room? Your next stop is gonna be your room at home. Just like you left it and just like you like it." He shook his head. "Rachel didn't mean anything. She's just trying to give me a hard time. That's all. She really didn't mean nothing about you. She was just—trying to give me a hard time."
Carol sucked in a breath and let it out as she nodded her understanding to Daryl.
"Maybe I didn't like that, either," Carol said.
Daryl didn't know how to respond to it. He wasn't sure what her statement meant—and he wasn't sure what he should say. So he did the only thing that he could think to do on the spur of the moment. He pretended that he hadn't heard it at all.
"What about the cafeteria?" Daryl asked, returning to the position where he could push Carol. "It smells good and I ain't had lunch yet. I'm due for my lunch break. I know you haven't had anything since breakfast. Wanna go? Have a real sit-down meal? I'll let you try just about anything you want to pick out."
"With you?" Carol asked.
Daryl hummed.
"Well I wasn't going to leave you there alone," he said, pleased that he'd at least distracted her from the incident with Rachel.
"I'd like that," Carol said.
"Me too," Daryl echoed, turning the chair to head for the cafeteria.
