Chapter 11
Instead of waiting around anxiously all day at the hotel for Daryl to get off of work, Carol had checked out of the hotel and had asked Michonne to meet her for coffee. Now, the two of them sat at their favorite coffee place, and little Andre slept soundly in his stroller with his favorite toy clutched in his hands.
"So," Michonne said quietly, sipping her latte, "how do you feel?"
"Amazing," Carol said with a smile on her face. "I mean, I just…I didn't realize how happy I would be to finally have it…over, you know?"
"I've gotta say, this Daryl guy suits you. Haven't seen you this happy in a long time." Michonne gave Carol a prize-winning smile. "I have to meet him."
"You will. He's...well, I don't think he's going anywhere anytime soon. He, uh, he wants me to move in with him."
"What?!" Michonne nearly choked. She put her cup down and wiped her mouth on her napkin. "Please tell me you said no!"
"Yes," Carol said with a nod. "I mean, yes, I said no. He knows I'm not ready for it. He's not pushing me. He just…he wants to be with me, and it's…I can't describe the feeling."
"Oh, you've got it bad," Michonne grinned, resuming sipping her drink. "So what's next?"
"Well, tonight I'm staying at his house." She caught Michonne's glance. "Don't look at me like that. It's not like I'm taking luggage." Michonne eyed the bag on the floor. "Come on, it's just an overnight bag."
"Okay," Michonne said, raising her brows. "What happens tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow, I'm meeting with a lawyer and starting the whole divorce process."
"You getting the house?"
"I don't want the house. It's his house. All I want are my things and a few of Sophia's. I just want to move on, you know?"
"I get that," Michonne said with a sad smile. "I still want to meet him."
"You will. I promise," Carol assured her. "I want you to meet him. He's a great guy."
"If he makes you happy, then I'm happy, but as your best friend, I will kick his ass if he ever does anything to hurt you. I'm still not entirely convinced I shouldn't kick Ed's ass." Carol gave her a sheepish grin and shook her head.
"You might get your chance if you're willing to help me get my things from Ed's after work tomorrow."
"Sure. Andre'll be with Mike's mom tomorrow night, so I'll be free as a bird."
"Thank you," Carol murmured, sipping at her own cup of coffee. "I really appreciate it."
"Don't mention it. Oh, but if you do want to make it up to me, you can let me meet Daryl." Michonne batted her eyelashes innocently, and Carol rolled her eyes.
"Ever hear the saying 'patience is a virtue?'"
"You do realize who you're talking to, right? Patience is not in my vocabulary." Andre woke from his nap and began to fuss, reaching out for Michonne.
"Mommy. Mommy!" he grunted, his little fingers wiggling impatiently as he reached out for Michonne.
"I see your son's more like you than you think," Carol laughed. Michonne grinned and shrugged her shoulders, picking her son up out of the stroller.
"This ever gonna be you again?" Michonne wondered, eyeing Carol curiously.
"What?" Carol asked.
"You? Daryl? A baby?"
"What?! Michonne, I don't…I don't know. It's…I'm too old to…"
"If you're still buying condoms and birth control—you are on the pill right?—then you're obviously not too old."
"That's not what I meant. I meant…I had a baby, and it was a rough pregnancy, and I'm not even sure I could ever put myself through that again." She shook her head. "I mean, if I had a baby next year, I'd be in my sixties when they graduated high school."
"So?" Michonne asked. "I went to school with plenty of kids who had older parents."
"Michonne," Carol groaned, "I don't…I'm not even sure what's happening tomorrow or next week, let alone nine months, a year, ten years down the road. Besides, Daryl has a baby. I told you that, right? She's beautiful. She's just…she's just the sweetest little thing." Carol's face brightened as she talked about Daryl's baby. Michonne found herself grinning.
"Yep . You've got it bad."
"What?"
"You love him and his kid. I hear wedding bells already."
"Oh stop," Carol said, waving her hand to dismiss her friend's comments. "I need to end the marriage I'm already in first, remember?"
"Sure," Michonne said with an agreeable nod. Carol rolled her eyes at her again, and they continued their coffee date, celebrating the end of one chapter in Carol's life and the beginning of another.
Daryl paced the living room with Gracie wide awake in his arms. Cherokee whined and lifted his head from his bed in the corner of the room, watching Daryl as if wondering why his human was so antsy this evening.
Grace yawned and cooed when Daryl looked down at her. She opened her eyes just a little, long enough to look up at her father and manage a tiny half-smile. Then she was out again. Daryl kissed her forehead and gently brushed his hand over her soft, fuzzy little head.
"Alright, Gracie," Daryl murmured, peering out the window in search of any sign of Carol's car, "it's time for you to go to sleep." He kissed her forehead again. "And if you could sleep through the night for the very first time tonight, your daddy sure would appreciate it." The baby grunted in her sleep, and Daryl chuckled, cradling her close.
He carried her back to her nursery and put her down in the crib, making sure to turn the night light on so he'd be able to see to get to her should she cry in the night. He made certain she was laying the way the baby books said she should lay, and he stood there over her crib for a few moments, just watching her tiny little chest rise and fall.
"Love you, Gracie girl. Sweet dreams." He turned and walked out of the room, grabbing the baby monitor and switching it on. He headed back down the hall and placed the monitor down on the coffee table. It was then he heard the soft squeal of brakes and the cut off of an ignition. He moved to the window to see Carol getting out of the car and hurrying up the sidewalk with a bag in her hand. His heart swelled, and he hurried to the door.
Cherokee was at his heels in half a second. When Daryl opened the front door, Carol's face lit up at the sight of him waiting for her. She gave him a little smile, and he opened the screen so she could step inside.
"You came," he murmured.
"Of course I did," she said softly, as he took her things and put them down on the sofa. He closed the door and brought her into his arms, holding her close, burying his face against the crook of her neck, inhaling the intoxicating Carol scent that he loved so much.
"You hungry?"
"I could eat," she said curiously. "You cooked?"
"Hey, I can cook…some stuff. If it makes ya feel any better, I ordered pizza. Should be here in a few minutes."
"Pizza sounds great," she said with a smile, her stomach rumbling.
"Wasn't sure what ya liked."
"I love pizza. I love cake. I love ice cream. Basically, give me anything with sugar, and you have a friend for life." Carol smiled when she saw the smile cross his lips, and she stood on her tiptoes to give him a peck on the lips. His hands moved up her neck to cup her face, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue gently sliding between her lips. She moaned softly against his mouth, opening up to him, her head swimming, her knees shaking, he body reacting to all the ideas of what they might be doing tonight.
It wasn't long before a knock at the door broke them apart, and Carol, face flushed and lips slightly swollen from the kiss, moved to sit on the couch while Daryl paid the delivery man.
Daryl returned from the door with a box in his hand, and Carol's stomach rumbled at the first whiff of a supreme pizza. She realized, suddenly, that she hadn't had pizza in a long time, and her mouth was watering.
Daryl grabbed a couple of plates from the kitchen.
"You want a drink? Beer?"
"I'll take iced tea if you have it," she murmured. "Never did like the taste of beer."
"It's a..whaddya call it? Acquired taste?"
"Well," she laughed, following him into the kitchen, "the way I feel about it is that if you have to get used to something gross to enjoy it, why bother in the first place?"
"Good point," Daryl said with a shrug. He grabbed a bottle of cold iced tea out of the fridge and handed it to her. Carol smiled a little, taking a peek into the fridge, noticing how everything he had seemed to be store bought, nothing made from scratch. It suddenly occurred to her that he really needed a woman's touch around the place, somebody to make him homemade sweet tea and down home cooking.
They sat down at the table and began to eat, chattering about nothing in particular. Finally, Carol looked over her shoulder.
"Where's Grace?"
"She's sleepin' like a baby," he said with a smile. "We had a talk, see?'
"Oh yeah?" She raised her brows in teasing curiousity. "And what did Miss Grace have to say at six weeks old?"
"She promised her daddy she'd sleep through the night so he could have some alone time with Miss Carol."
"Oh she did, huh?"
"Yep. She knows it's about time she starts sleepin' through the night, and tonight's gonna be the night."
"Oh, she's very considerate," Carol said with a grin, taking a sip of tea. Carol cleared her throat and put down the bottle of tea. "Tell me about you."
"Huh?"
"I don't know much about you. Where'd you grow up? What were your parents like?"
"Ain't much to tell," he said with a shrug. "Didn't really know my folks." Carol cocked her head to the side, propping her face in her hand, elbow on the table. He sighed, realizing he wasn't getting out of it that easily.
"Shit," he murmured. "Grew up 'round here, a few miles south. Wasn't no country boy, no farm boy. Lived in a little shithole neighborhood where playin' outside was only somethin' you ought to do with adult supervision. Since we didn't have none of that, me'n Merle—that's my brother—we pretty much stayed away from home, went fishin'. We had these ancient bikes, like antiques. Kids made fun of us for ridin' 'em, called 'em grandma bikes or some shit." He took a swig of his beer. "My daddy worked in a factory, my mama was a chain-smokin' meth head." Carol felt her stomach twist as Daryl spoke about his past.
"I had no idea, Daryl."
"Yeah," he muttered. "Me and Merle was out fishin' one day. I was about eight. We got home, and the fire department was there, the whole trailer was up in flames. Turns out my mama had a meth lab in the back of the trailer."
"Oh God, Daryl," Carol murmured, her hand going up to her mouth.
"My daddy claimed he didn't know nothin' 'bout it, and he moved me'n Merle a couple blocks down to a new trailer. He pretty much drank himself to death by the time I was fourteen." He saw the tears glistening in Carol's eyes, and he reached over and squeezed her hand to let her know it was alright. "Got bounced around to different foster homes 'til I was eighteen. I tried to stay in one spot, but Merle'd always come around, and my foster folks never wanted nothin' to do with him. He always kinda screwed up every place I stayed, but he was my brother, ya know?"
"What ever happened to your brother?"
"He's still around. Don't see him too much. He's into drugs and shit I don't want no part of. Don't want my daughter around that shit. He came to see her when he heard 'bout her, and I told him he ain't to come 'round unless he's clean. He took off, and I ain't seen him since."
"I'm so sorry, Daryl," she murmured. He shrugged.
"I ain't tryin' to make a Lifetime movie about it. I just figure I don't make the same mistakes as my folks, and I'll be alright. Never much had any desire to get drugged out of my mind anyhow. Don't want Grace to have the same life I had growin' up, you know?" Carol placed her hand on top of his, and she gave his hand a little rub.
"I'm sorry for what you went through," she said quietly.
"That's life, right? Ain't no use in dwellin' on it, ya know? It's what happened to them, but it ain't happenin' to me. Not anymore."
"You're a good man," Carol murmured. "You're gonna be a great dad, Daryl Dixon." The tears made her eyes sparkle, and Daryl leaned across the table, kissing her softly.
"Thank you," he murmured. She leaned her forehead against his and sighed, taking in the moment. "Your turn."
"Mine," she said softly, pursing her lifts in a soft hum. "Well, that's…kind of a boring story. I grew up here in Georgia. My mother was a nurse, and my father was a preacher." Daryl raised an eyebrow, Carol snorted. "Don't look so surprised."
"Not surprised. Not at all," he said with a grin. "Preacher's daughter, huh? That's kinda hot." Carol laughed and rolled her eyes, taking another bite of pizza before continuing her story.
"I was your average, every day preacher's daughter that liked to sneak out with her friends and have a good time. I got in trouble. A lot. But my parents were good people. They didn't try to lock me in my room or throw the Bible at me. They just tried to raise me the best they could. They made mistakes, but who doesn't? We took family vacations, we went to church on Sundays to see my dad preach, and we ate meals together."
"Sounds nice," Daryl said quietly, eyeing her from across the table.
"It was." She smiled sadly. "My dad died when I turned twenty, and my mom kind of lost herself a little. I got a job and helped with the bills until she got on her feet. She passed away about ten years ago. The last thing she told me she wanted was to have a granddaughter." She felt the tears in her eyes. "I wish she could have met Sophia. She would have spoiled her rotten."
"Wish my girl had a grandma to spoil her."
"What about her mother's parents?"
"She didn't have parents, either. She was a foster kid, like me. Don't really know much else about her, but I'm the only family Gracie's got." Carol squeezed his hand.
"That's ok. She'll just grow up knowing her dad loved her so much that he did everything he could to give her everything he didn't have." She kissed him softly. "You're amazing, Daryl. You really are. And trust me, Grace will think so too. It sounds like you're already everything your dad wasn't, and you're just getting started."
Daryl eyed her, his heart swelling, and he wanted to say so many things to her in that moment, things he knew might frighten her, might send her out that door. The love he felt for her was beyond anything he'd ever expected to feel for anyone, and here she was, telling him he was worth something, that he was a good person, that he was everything his father told him he wasn't when he was growing up.
"Daryl?" she asked, noticing the way he was looking at her, his eyes fixed on hers, his hands trembling as he held her hands. "What's wrong?"
"Nothin'," he murmured. A little smile spread over his face. She cocked her head to the side, trying to read him, trying to figure out what was going on behind those gorgeous blue eyes. "I just love you."
"I love you too," she said with that beautiful smile. She leaned in, and she was kissing him again, and he swore to himself that he was going to spend the rest of his life making her smile like that if he could help it.