AN: I don't really say it enough, but you guys are really awesome! I thank you so much for your comments and your reviews. They mean the world to me and I'm glad to see that you all like this story as much as I do. I love hearing from you. Each and every one of your comments makes my day!
Here's another little chapter for you. There's a little time jump, but it's nothing too terribly dramatic. We're just moving along a little bit.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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As the weeks passed, Carol had started to find herself settling into a new routine…a new way of life. She was beginning, although she questioned it at times, to become even more comfortable with this new life than she had with her old. She was beginning to find that she enjoyed it even.
She worked her days out, leaving the moment she could, and she spent the time between her arrival home and Sophia's coming in from the shop preparing dinner. They were elaborate dinners sometimes and one dish wonders others, but she was finding herself spending much of her free time and much of the quiet time that she ran into at work planning menus in her head.
Sophia was always happy to eat anything that Carol prepared. She never turned her nose up at anything and Carol liked serving her the meals because anything new was met with a certain excitement and anything repeated was like visiting an old friend for the girl. And for whatever reason, it gave Carol a sort of pleasure to know that she was doing something right for the girl, no matter how small the gesture might be.
And then there was Daryl. Some days he came to dinner, some days he didn't. Some nights he ate dinner, but he arrived late, teeth chattering from spending a little too much time perhaps in the concrete building in which they worked, and covered with the purple and grey dust that he had now, more than once, showered off in her shower before eating a late dinner.
If Carol dared to admit it to herself, she was becoming comfortable with Daryl as well. There was something about him…something so entirely unpredictable yet completely expected…that it was almost hard not to fall into a comfortable routine with him.
Some days he was quiet, almost brooding, and others he was joking and teasing until her face hurt from laughing at him and she knew Sophia's did too. There wasn't, as far as Carol knew, an exact rhyme or reason for any of the moods…it was just the way the sun came up or how it set the night before that influenced them.
And some nights, right after he had eaten, when everything was getting quiet around the house, he would sit and watch a move with Carol and Sophia…or once they'd played some card game that Sophia tried to teach them but Carol wasn't even sure it was a real card game since the rules seemed to change regularly and always in Sophia's favor. Other nights, most nights, Sophia would remember some assignment or another that she needed to study for and she'd excuse herself upstairs, not to come down again until the morning hustle had begun.
And those nights Daryl would sometimes chat with Carol…sharing bits of their days or, on rare occasions, small pieces of their lives…and other times it was as though he wanted nothing of words. All he wanted was her body, and that was something that she didn't mind giving him in the least.
Sometimes he would slip out of her bed and she'd lie in the darkness and listen to him dress in silence…not sure if he was going to step outside and smoke and return later or if he was going to leave for good. He returned as often as he left. Neither with explanation offered. And Carol accepted both.
But the comfort really came in knowing that, for as odd as her life might be to someone glancing in the windows and timing the schedules, the existence that was happening around her was one where she was beginning to feel, at least to some degree, like she fit. For the first time in a very long time, Carol was beginning to feel like she could wrap her life around her like a warm and comfortable sweater. Although it may never be entirely predictable, it had become strangely safe and accepting.
So she was careful not to push Sophia into talking about things. When the girl went through random spurts of broody silence, Carol dismissed them. Sometimes these things happened and nights could be hard, making mornings harder. Carol wasn't going to ever erase Sophia's memories…the things that probably haunted the girl, the things that made her get quiet when Carol least expected it…but she wasn't going to force her to drag her thoughts out into living room and put them on display either.
And Carol had learned enough about Daryl to know that there was so much left to learn that she might never have the time…even if this strange affair they had stretched on for the rest of their lives…to learn about everything he hid behind his seemingly simple exterior. But she didn't push him either. She accepted that when he came to her…however he came to her…that was just how he was for the moment and he didn't want to explain, even if he could, exactly why he wore the mask that he'd selected for the day.
For as much as she didn't push Sophia and for as much as she didn't push Daryl, there was also something pleasant about knowing that they weren't pushing her either.
No one asked about Ed anymore. Carol was the only one, it seemed, that still thought of him. Daryl didn't mention that she'd once been married. He never asked her about her life with Ed. He never so much as mentioned the scars that she knew that he saw but was somehow able to overlook.
Sophia hadn't asked her to elaborate on the man any further either. She seemed content to abandon the questions she once asked about him as some sort of exchange for Carol not asking her what happened with one family or another.
Information had become something they exchanged on a "want to" basis. If someone wanted to offer something of themselves up to anyone else, they did…and if they didn't, then they didn't. And Carol found that a nice way to be. Too many times in her life she'd been forced into things…it was nice to do things of her own accord.
So this evening, with the holidays approaching and for the first time in more years than she could count, the desire to do something to celebrate them, Carol was sitting at the kitchen table with a legal pad in front of her making plans.
Thanksgiving was right around the corner and she needed a menu as soon as possible if she was going to have any hope of buying the ingredients before the crowd descended on the small grocery store in town that, once sold out of things, wouldn't restock for at least two weeks.
Right after that was Christmas…and it had its own sheet of paper for planning. She didn't know if Sophia had ever really celebrated Christmas before. She didn't know what her life had been like before entering the system and she didn't really know the time frames for when she'd been with the various families.
So Carol wanted Christmas to be nice.
She had some decorations in the attic…and she'd have to venture up there and see if any of it was in decent enough shape to use or if she needed to replace much of it. They could go and buy a tree when the lots opened…she hadn't had a tree in years.
And she'd have to buy presents for Sophia…and she would pick something up for Daryl too. Though the presents would take a good deal more planning since she had no idea what either of them might like.
Sophia needed school clothes, she would probably like a few girly things…some make up that was all her own and not the few items that Carol let her keep out of her unused stuff, afraid that if she wore too much the school might question her ability to judge how much was appropriate for a sixteen year old girl who would trade out her lipstick for a welding helmet in it a heartbeat once the school bell rang.
But she wanted to offer her something special too, something that would really mean something. There was a lot of pressure behind the gift, and Carol realized that she was the one putting most of it on herself.
And a gift for Daryl?
How could she even begin to think of what to get the man? She never saw him even use anything if it wasn't for condoms…and she'd had more than a good chuckle to herself the night he'd shown up with about five boxes of those and stacked them on her bedside table offering nothing but the explanation of "just in case" which she had accepted without a word.
What do you buy a man like Daryl?
But she was going to come up with something, and she hoped that it was good.
When the phone started ringing, Carol glanced at the clock before going in search of the headset on the stand in the living room.
She'd gotten off a little earlier today for having let Jacqui get off earlier the past two days for something she had to do at her son's school. It still wasn't time for Sophia and it wouldn't be for at least a good half hour, but it was cold and raining outside, so the girl might be calling her to pick her up if Daryl wasn't coming to dinner and one of the other men hadn't offered to drop her by the house to keep from walking in the rain.
Carol found the phone and answered it, expecting to hear Sophia's request for a ride in a half an hour…or forty five minutes…but she didn't expect to hear the unfamiliar voice that came across the lines.
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Sophia climbed down out of Wren's little truck and beat him back to the shop, slipping into the heavy wooden door and into the almost suffocating warmth of the shop.
On days like this…rainy ones…when they kept the stall doors closed and the standing kerosene heaters lit for most of the days, the shop became oddly stifling. It was still cold, especially in certain areas where the heat didn't feel like it was radiating off the orange and red wires of the heaters, but it was difficult to breathe in there.
Sophia walked over to the work bench and peeled off her coat, lying her gloves to the side so they could dry before she had to head to the house. She took her coat to the nail that she'd claimed as her own, having written her name…or rather written Wendy…above it with one of the sharpies they used to mark parts when they were tearing down cars.
Daryl wasn't around, but she knew he was there, so she darted to the paint booth and found it empty. Wren came in the wooden door then, whistling loudly, and Sophia glanced back at him.
"Daryl?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. With Mac and Merle not there at the moment and the heaters still on, Daryl had to be around. He wouldn't have risked burning down the shop in everyone's absence.
Wren shrugged, not ceasing his whistling for the moment. He stopped by the water fountain, took a drink and then wiped the back of his mouth with his hand.
"Check the storage room," Wren said.
Sophia nodded and trotted back there, standing in the door between the office and the storage room. Daryl was in there alright, fiddling around in the parts and supplies that they'd finally gotten almost straightened up after her accident.
In fact, the accident had been the main reason they'd gotten it straightened up, reasoning that the place was a danger to them all and her little escapade had only been a possible taste of what could happen to any of them as they ventured back there.
"Guess what I learned to do today," Sophia called out to Daryl.
He peeked between the shelves at her.
"Well it weren't ta keep from sneakin' up on nobody," Daryl said. "What the hell'd ya do today?"
Sophia grinned.
"I parallel parked," she answered.
She was driving now with Wren and Tootie some in the afternoons. For the most part they'd set up an obstacle course in a large field behind the shop where Tootie worked and she drove the junk cars that still rolled through the field and around the obstacle course. But for at least two days now she'd spent the hour and a half worth of time with Wren in the car with her, learning how to parallel park.
"How much shit ya tear up?" Daryl asked.
Sophia scoffed.
Granted, she'd hit the poles the two men had hammered into the ground more than once, but it hadn't done any damage to anything that was going to hurt someone's feelings. Besides, she'd already reasoned that since Wren used it as an excuse to nurse one or two beers before closing time, he hardly even felt the poles.
"I didn't tear up nothing!" Sophia shot back. "Didn't even hit nothing today. Not a single pole. Parked three times and nothing."
Daryl chuckled and it echoed in the tight space.
"Good for you, then," he responded.
Daryl circled around the shelves, a couple of items tucked under his arms.
"You coming to dinner?" Sophia asked.
Some days Daryl came to dinner and some days he stayed at the shop in an effort to get the coupe done. He said he wanted thing ready to roll out before Christmas. He figured it might make a nice Christmas gift for someone who was looking for just the perfect car to have as a toy for the holiday.
Sophia didn't push him to come either. She wished he came every night, because she felt like both he and Carol were lighter and happier on the nights that he came and he left in the morning after breakfast, but she knew that Daryl didn't like to be nagged about anything…and she wasn't going to be accused of being a little baby nagger like Merle said she was.
Merle teased her that all women were naggers. He said it was a mechanism born into them and when they got to a certain age they grew into their nagging. As a result, whenever Sophia scolded him about anything…from making a mess she had to clean up when it could have been avoided to leaving his shit strewn around the floor so that everyone tripped over it…he called her a baby nagger and would call at Wren to listen to the sweet sound of her developing nag. She tried, because of that, to keep her scolding to a minimum when he was around and she tried to remain mindful that Daryl might very well feel the same way about it.
"Not tonight," Daryl responded. "Too damn much ta do. Be lucky if I so much as leave here 'fore everyone else is rollin' in tomorrow."
Sophia frowned but nodded and stepped out of his way so that he could pass into the shop where Wren was nursing a beer and lazily getting his things together to call it the end of a work day…a work day where he'd almost avoided work entirely.
"Sos ya got her parkin', huh?" Daryl called at Wren.
Wren chuckled.
"That shit don't sound right…but yeah…I took Wendy parkin' alright," Wren said. He winked at Sophia and she chuckled at him. "Did pretty damn good too. Good damn thing…after yesterday I didn't think them posts we put up could stand too damn much. Was gonna suggest she just got herself a fuckin' black belt for board breakin'. But today? Today she didn't hit not one damn thing."
"Reckon ya might be good for somethin' after all," Daryl shot back at Wren. "Ya goin' out on the road soon?"
Wren looked at Sophia and she didn't try to hide the fact that she hoped he'd say yes.
At first, after her accident with Carol, she'd been terrified of the idea of driving on the road again. She'd been sure that if she were dumb enough to get behind the wheel of the car again, she'd kill someone.
That's really why they'd taken her to the field. The first day she'd drove out there, in a rusted out old jeep, Wren had put a junk football helmet on her head and told her that she could do whatever the hell she wanted in the jeep and nothing was going to suffer but shit that was bound for the dump anyway.
And the freedom of the field had made it feel better. There weren't lanes…there weren't cars…and she wasn't responsible for the life of her passenger.
And then they'd set up obstacles without asking her. A few extra rusted out cars at first…then they'd painted lanes with spray paint.
And then they'd had what Wren had called the Derby Day. And all three of them, all wearing football helmets, had done their best to destroy the three cars Tootie had picked out that were bound to be stripped and scrapped within the week.
And after all that…there wasn't as much fear for Sophia as there had been before. She understood, a little better, how the car worked. She understood, a little better, how to anticipate and respond to trouble. She knew…above all…that she'd never really be in control in the car, but that staying calm could mean the difference between slamming into the obstacle and missing it.
So going out on the road probably wouldn't be that big of a deal…and it was something she needed to learn to do. Tootie said that once she got her license he'd find her a junker that ran decent. One of the cars that no one wanted anymore…and she could have it to drive back and forth.
She could drive it to school, and to work, and she could even offer to do things like pick up the groceries for Carol every now and again and be able to help out more than when she just offered to clean the bathrooms or something like that on the weekends.
Wren nodded at Sophia and smiled.
"Yeah…I figure next week I'll get me my damn trusty helmet an' we can cut the block a couple times. She gets real good an' I'll take her out ta pick up some parts an' shit…let her cart my ass around for a while," Wren said. He leaned back against the workbench. "Yeeeeepppp…let ole Wendy drive me around like I done arrived."
Daryl chuckled.
"That's all the fuck ya need Wren…some damn shit ta go ta ya head," Daryl growled.
Wren shrugged.
"Might be right…but right now I gotta get my decrepit ass home an' get other shit goin' ta my head," Wren said. "We gotta clean the house…boy's is comin' in for the holidays. Gotta help clean the house."
Sophia laughed.
"Won't you look cute in a little apron," Sophia said.
Wren chuckled.
"Hell yeah I do," he responded. "Got me a little feather wand too. Dance my ass all 'round that house."
Wren stretched and dropped the empty beer bottle he'd been holding in one of the nearby trash barrels before going and getting his coat.
"Ya got a ride?" He asked, turning back toward Sophia.
Sophia shot a look at Daryl who was working. He glanced at her and shook his head, so she turned and mirrored the act toward Wren.
"Get'cha coat. Catch fuckin' pneumonia traipsin' 'round in this weather," Wren said.
Sophia smiled and darted to get her coat and gloves back on so she could follow Wren out to the truck. She called a goodbye to Daryl and slipped through the wooden door, hopping back up in Wren's truck and riding in silence with him while he whistled Christmas songs on the way to her house.
"It's not Christmas yet, you know," Sophia said, leaning her elbow on against the truck window.
"Might not be," Wren said. "But we elves celebrate all year 'round."
Sophia smiled and raised an eyebrow at him.
"You're an elf, huh?" She teased.
Wren nodded.
"Sure I am…just ask Merle," Wren said.
"I thought you were one of the lost boys?" Sophia responded, bringing up the shop wide joke that Sophia was Wendy…and the mother of all of them…mother of the lost boys…and consequently keeper of the tools and paper filer.
Wren grunted.
"Reckon I'm that too, Wendy," Wren said. He chuckled. "Been a lotta damn things in this life…an' ain't done yet. Not 'til they shovel a couple pounds a dirt on my head, I reckon."
He pulled the truck into the driveway and Sophia bid him a good evening before jumping out and running inside.
When she got inside she couldn't find Carol immediately. Dinner was being cooked, though, and it smelled wonderful. Sophia wrestled out of her coat and gloves, putting her coat on the hook and tossing her gloves on the floor to dry by the shoes. She wrestled out of her shoes, then and padded through the house toward Carol's bedroom. The door was shut.
Sophia tapped on the door and leaned her head against it.
"Carol?" She called, tapping at the door again.
Carol opened the door a second later, barely sticking her head out. Sophia didn't think she looked alright, and she was immediately worried.
"I'll be out in a minute sweetheart," Carol said. "Go wash up…dinner's almost done."
Sophia nodded. She figured she could try and find out over dinner what was going on, but she already didn't like it. She hadn't seen that look on Carol's face for a while…and she'd hoped she wouldn't see it again.
Sophia slipped up to her room to wash up and change, hoping that she'd have some kind of way of getting it to go away again.
