…

The Dixon Trailer Park barbecue stretched into the evening. Daryl had citronella torches he stabbed into the ground around them to keep the mosquitos at bay and Theresa still sprayed all of the kids down with enough bug spray for them to shine.

Besides the pig, the women had fixed all sorts of sides and Bridget took care of the desserts. Beth quickly learned that anytime the park had a cookout, Bridget covered the desserts – and with good reason. Tonight, she had made a fresh blueberry pie and a fresh strawberry pie and Beth couldn't remember the last time she had had pies this good – and growing up, her church had picnics with plenty of women baking plenty of pies. She felt no shame in having a piece of each with vanilla ice cream.

The kids were running around, chasing fireflies, the soccer ball and each other and Daryl had told them more than once that people were going to think they were being murdered if they kept screaming like that. That certainly didn't stop them though.

The men were standing around, drinking beers and talking about this and that and the women sat in a group of lawn chairs. Kristy Conway had a bottle of wine that everyone except Theresa and Rosita indulged in – though Rosita made it known that if she wasn't breast feeding Coco, she would need an entire bottle for just her.

"I don't think I like wine," Beth said, her face screwed up after taking her first sip. She had never had it before and like she having Daryl take her to a bar, she had wanted to try it. She still tasted it on her tongue and no, she definitely did not like wine.

"I will gladly help you," Kristy said, taking the plastic cup from her, and Beth laughed.

She got up to go get herself a can of Coke from the cooler they had before heading back to her chair and the women. Moses had come, about to pass out from running around for so long, and he had promptly climbed into his mom's lap, his eyes already shut.

Beth looked to George, thinking he would be the same but no, he was still going. She liked seeing him running around with other kids, having friends and being like the three-year-old he was. In the neighborhood in Birmingham they lived in, there had been other children – so many who lived in similar situations to George's – and Beth had no problem him playing with them, but Beth admitted that she was always so protective of him and George had always been so shy around anyone who wasn't her.

Watching him now as he ran around with the Leesman kids, screaming like he was being murdered, Beth honestly felt like she could cry from it.

Daryl was standing with Siddiq and Mr. King and as if he could read her mind – or maybe because he was thinking the same thing – he turned his head then and their eyes met. He gave her the smallest smile. Beth didn't doubt that he was thinking the same thing as her.

So many things had to happen for Beth to be right here, in this exact spot, in this exact moment. Meeting Patrick at that high school party, graduating, going off with him, staying with him, having George, still staying with Patrick, but then leaving and she and George walking all of this way until they saw that "For Rent" sign. Every single second had to happen for Beth and George to have this life that they now were both so happy to have.

It might have been too long since Beth had last stepped foot in a church, but it was obvious to her that God was still keeping an eye for her and her son in His classic roundabout way.

"Would you ever want some of your own?" Rosita was asking as Beth sat down in her chair again.

The question was directed to Bridget, who shook her head. "No. Gary grew up in a group home and sometimes, it's hard for someone to ever get over that. But more than that, I don't want any. Growing up, my mom made sure that I knew that the only reason she ever had me was so that she had someone to take care of her when she got old."

"That's terrible," Theresa shook her head. "That's not why a person has children."

"I grew up thinking that that was the only reason I was around. I ran away when I was sixteen so I wouldn't have to take care of her hateful ass," Bridget continued. "With most strippers, you think we all have daddy issues, but not with me. Mine are all my mother's. And I know that Gary and I could have a kid and neither of us would be anything like what we grew up with, but we've both found one another and we love it being just the two of us."

"Good for you," Kristy said with a firm nod. "If you don't want kids, why have kids?"

"What about you, Ms. Mackey?" Rosita asked.

The older woman was sipping her wine and lowered her eyes to her lap. She shrugged. "I know He doesn't make mistakes, but I think God might have wired me wrong. I never wanted to be with someone. Men. Women. No one. Honestly, the thought of having sex always scared me and disgusted me and I spent most of my life, thinking something was wrong with me for not wanting anything. I didn't crave it. I never have. That want has just never been there."

"You're asexual," Theresa was the one to say and the other women looked at her, surprised. "What? Just because I go to church three times a week, I can't know about things like that?"

Bridget laughed. "I think we're just surprised that a church-going woman would admit such a thing exists." She reached over and squeezed Theresa's hand to show her that she was just teasing.

Theresa smiled and rolled her eyes before looking to Ms. Mackey, growing serious again. "There's nothing wrong with you, Hannah. God always knows what He's doing."

"He does," Beth spoke up. "And you don't need to be married. You have all of us."

Ms. Mackey smiled and in the waning sunlight and flickering torches, they all saw her wet eyes.

"And you just let me know if you ever do feel the need to have a child," Kristy said. "I will give you Cassie in a hot second."

"A girl needs her mother, Kristy," Ms. Mackey said to that.

"That girls needs something alright."

"And why did you and Greg have so many kids, Theresa?" Rosita asked, clearly wanting to get to know everyone she now lived with a bit better. "Is it because of your church?"

"Isn't that obvious? I couldn't keep him off of me," Theresa grinned. The other women began laughing so much so that Moses stirred, lifting his head from Theresa's chest irritably. "Greg," she called to her husband, still laughing with the other women.

Greg left his conversation with Gary and Merle and came to his wife. He looked to all of the women and then down to Theresa. He lifted Moses in his arms without needing her to tell him. "Do I even want to know?" He then asked.

"Probably not," Theresa just smiled.

Greg smirked and turned to leave, calling to the younger ones – Enoch and Miriam – to come with him as he carried Moses back to their trailer.

Beth's eyes went back to look at George. She should get him, too. The sun was still lingering as it did in the summer, but it was already eight-thirty and George could be a nightmare if he didn't get enough sleep. She had her shift at Aldi tomorrow, which meant she had to wake him up and get him over to Daryl's – who was watching him for her since the Leesman home school was done for the next three months even though Theresa had told her time and again that she didn't mind watching George whenever Beth needed it – and she didn't need a cranky tired brat to deal with in the morning.

But he was still running around and having the time of his life. Beth couldn't bring herself to call him over so she could take him back home. This wouldn't be the last cookout Dixon Trailer Park would have that summer, she knew, but George had never been to anything like this and she wanted his first one to be as special as it could be.

Rachel was doing cartwheels and George was trying to mimic her, falling on his butt again and again, but he kept getting up to try it just one more time.

It looked like she would be dealing with a cranky tired brat tomorrow morning.

And to be honest, Beth wasn't in a hurry to go back inside either. It had been a long time since she had done this; talking and laughing with friends. It all felt so normal and Beth had forgotten how absolutely wonderful good-old boring normalcy could be.

…

"Everything alright?" Gary asked, coming back to Merle, holding out a fresh beer for him and then taking a sip from his own.

Merle shook his head, still looking up the road, to the Valero gas station on the corner. "Don't know." He popped the tab of the beer can and took a drink, but his eyes remained set. "That car's been there jus' about all afternoon," he noted.

The car wasn't at a gas pump, but rather, parked in one of the spots. Merle normally wouldn't pay attention or even notice in the first place, but two people were clearly sitting in the car and not getting out. It couldn't have been a hooker and her John. They were too out in the open to be doing something like that and not only that, it had just been too damn long. Couldn't be a drug deal for those same reasons.

So why the hell was a car just sitting at the gas station with two people not getting out, facing this way?

"Hand job?" Gary asked before he took another swallow of beer.

Merle smirked and shook his head. "Longest damn hand job in the world if that's the case."

Gary grinned, but he then began looking at the car, too, and his smile faded. "What are they doing?"

"Haven' figured that out yet. 's almost like they're spyin'."

"On what?"

"You keep askin' me these questions like I know."

"You've been watching the car longer than I have. Figured you might have a theory."

Merle was quiet on that, sipping his beer and looking at the car. It was almost like they were on a stakeout. Not a very good or hidden one, but that was what it reminded Merle of. And the way they were parked, they were facing the trailer park and it wasn't like there was anything to watch on this road other than the cars and semis coming in and out of town. Were they waiting for something? Or were they watching the trailer park? What the Hell would they be watching in a trailer park?

…

As expected, George was a mess the next day.

Beth knew he hadn't slept well the night before. They didn't have an air-conditioner; not even an air-unit. It would only add to the electric bill every month and Beth had a strict budget to stick to. She couldn't afford any extras. God help her if George got sick or hurt and she had to empty out the emergency fund she tried to put money into each month. One catastrophe would wipe her out. Just having a birthday party for him next month was going to stretch her thin.

Yes, an air-conditioner in Georgia, in the summer, would be absolutely wonderful, but it was just something they would have to live without for the time being. She made what she made and they had to live accordingly.

They did have a fan that Beth kept directed on the pull-out couch as they slept, but Beth knew that didn't help. All it did was push the hot air around and George spent the night, turning and flopping around, trying to get comfortable; trying to sleep.

The next morning, Beth tried to get them through their morning routine. She got herself ready for work and tried to get George dressed as well, but he kept throwing himself down on the floor, screaming and shouting that he didn't want to. George had never thrown tantrums before. For the first three years of his life, he had been so quiet. Even as a baby. As if he knew that to survive in the life he and Beth had, he had to be quiet. But here, in Orson, he could be like any other three-year-old and throw a fit until he was red in the face – which right now, George very much was.

"George, stop!" Beth had to snap. She understood the reason for George's mood. He was hot and exhausted, but Beth needed to get him dressed so she could take him to Daryl's and she could go to work.

"No!" George shouted and once again, flung himself onto the carpeted floor of the living room.

Beth just sighed heavily and drank her coffee and ate her cup of yogurt.

She didn't try to get George to eat something. She just fixed him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and slipped it into a plastic baggy to take over to Daryl's.

She went into the bathroom to brush her teeth and George followed after her to throw himself down on the rug in front of the bathtub – just in case she would miss even a second of his tantrum. Beth stood at the sink, looking between her reflection in the mirror and her son, carrying on, and she had this strangest image of calling her mom. If she had a good relationship with her mom – or any relationship – Beth could so easily imagine calling Annette and complaining and even laughing about George's antics this morning and Annette, in turn, would tell Beth all about the toddler tantrums Beth and her siblings had thrown.

After she had herself together, the couch was righted again and the kitchen was cleaned, Beth took George's sandwich and stuffed dragon and gathered her own things. Again, she didn't even try to get him dressed and still in his pajamas, she ushered him out the front door.

George didn't care if they were outside. He kept crying and screaming about it. Outside was just as hot and sticky as it was inside their trailer and he wasn't getting any reprieve. Thankfully, Daryl's trailer was air-conditioned so he would calm down as soon as he was inside again.

"Whatcha goin' on 'bout, boy?"

Beth locked her front door and looked next door to see Daryl's brother, Merle, standing on the front porch, smoking a cigarette.

She met Merle a few days ago – when he came home. Daryl said he had been gone for a while and was now staying with him for a while. Daryl had said that when it came to Merle, keeping track of time, the best way to do it was in segments of "for a while". Merle was a drifter and always had been, but Beth could hear the slightest hint of hope in Daryl's voice that this time, for a while would mean just that.

Merle was older; a bit gruffer and rougher around the edges, but Beth could only assume that Merle's body had the same markings and scars as Daryl's and because of that, she found his personality completely understandable. She didn't mind.

"Screamin' like you're losin' your head."

George just kept crying as he followed his mama down their steps and next door to Daryl's trailer.

"He didn't sleep well. We don't have air-conditioning and it was a miserable night," Beth explained.

Merle stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray resting on the porch's railing. "What the Hell you mean you don't have air-conditioning?" He frowned.

Beth just shrugged. She was a single mom living in a trailer, working as a cashier at Aldi. She didn't get the feeling that Merle was stupid so he could very easily figure out her financial situation. She doubted she was the only poor person in this country, in the South, without air-conditioning.

Merle opened the door for her and she ushered George inside. Even she sighed with relief when the comfortable, cool air hit her. George turned around, took his dragon from Beth's hand, and then went to the couch, flopping himself down, face-down.

"Hey," Daryl came from the bathroom, dressed, and his teeth freshly brushed.

"Daryl, where those the sales ads?" Merle asked, already moving towards the pile of them spread across the kitchen table.

"Hi," Beth smiled at Daryl. "He's in a mood," she then warned him.

"Wish you would let me put a window unit in for you," Daryl said, looking to George and then to her.

Beth just shook her head and held out the plastic baggy with George's sandwich. "So, to warn you. He didn't eat breakfast, he's in his pajamas and his teeth aren't brushed."

Daryl shrugged. "Sounds like Merle. I know how to handle it."

She smiled, almost laughed, and leaning in, she stood on her toes and kissed him. "Thank you for watching him. If he gets to be too much, Candyland with Ms. Mackey might help."

Daryl leaned down and gave her another short kiss. "We'll all survive."

Outside, a car horn honked and they both looked out the door to see that it was Greg, who had volunteered to drive Beth to work that morning on his own way to work.

Beth turned back to Daryl and gave him another kiss. "I'll be back by two." She then went to the couch and knelt down next to it. George turned his head so he was looking at her. "You be good today. Let me hear you promise me."

"I promise I'll be good," George mumbled.

She gave him a kiss on the head. "I love you, George."

"I love you, mama."

Beth kissed his head again and stood up. She looked to Daryl and they shared a smile. He walked her to the door and held it open, letting her walk out first and he followed her out on to the porch. He held a hand out to Greg in his car before looking to Beth.

"Have a good day," Daryl said to her.

"You, too," Beth smiled. "I just hope you talk to me again after watching George today." She said it as a joke, but she completely meant it.

Daryl just smiled and leaned down, giving her one more kiss. "A lil' kid actin' like a lil' kid won't get rid of me, Beth," he said and Beth swore that he was making a promise to her.

…

Beth was certain that someone was watching her. She just got the itch on the back of her neck that all people got when they realized someone was looking at them without their knowledge.

But anytime she looked for that person, she didn't see anyone she knew. No one was looking at her except for the same amount of anyone looking at her as she scanned shoppers' groceries. But the feeling wasn't going away and it was starting to scare her.

When she able to take a break and Albert took her register over, Beth went into the back – first to use the employee bathroom and then she went to the refrigerator in the break room, taking out the sandwich she had fixed for herself. With that and her bottle of water, she gratefully sat down at the table to eat.

She couldn't stop thinking about the itch on the back of her neck though. Should she call Daryl and check on George? Was this one of her motherly intuitions that she should check on her son? No. It wasn't that. And besides, she knew that George was safest with Daryl. If anything happened, Daryl would keep him safe or he would call Beth to let her know what happened.

This itch was something else. What, she didn't know, but it was something.

She didn't think it was Patrick. He would have absolutely no idea where to even begin to look for her. She could have gone east, west, north or further south. He would assume she would stay far away from Georgia because of her family. He had no clue which direction she went and he wouldn't know how to find her and George.

She didn't have to worry about Patrick, Beth knew.

So did that mean this was someone else? Who though? Who would be in Aldi in the middle-of-nowhere Orson, Georgia, just watching her?

…

THANK YOU! I seriously can't thank everyone enough and it means so much that this story is being read and enjoyed so much! And during this chapter, I realized how many "G"s are in this trailer park lol

In the next chapter, I don't want to give too much away, but I will say that in a part of it, we have Daryl, Merle and George spending their day together.