[June 20, 10 NE]
Daryl holds Sweetheart tightly by her hips as she bends over the side of the speedboat and watches the white trail in the water. "Fwast!" she shouts over the purr of the electric motor. "Bote go fwast!"
"Yeah, real fast," Daryl agrees and drags her away from the edge and settles her back on his lap where he sits in the shade of the solar-paneled roof. Turns out he didn't even need a ticket for her. She doesn't count as a whole person – doesn't need a seat of her own as long as she has a parent's lap to sit on. So he sold one of the three tickets back to Seaman Reedus – for one round of ammunition less than he bought it for, unfortunately - so the sailor can meet his Hilltop girl at Oceanside. Daryl thinks maybe Reedus knew he wouldn't need it and was playing a dirty trick.
Eventually, Daryl has to let Sweetheart off his lap to look again. She's like Merle in the hands of a cop, flopping and then going slack to slide right out. He keeps a careful eye on her, ready to yank her back if she starts leaning over too far. Their seat is in the front row, so after she peers over the side for a while, Sweetheart tries to head for the controls of the boat, which is being piloted by Ensign Lincoln. The ensign took the skipper classes to get his license so he'd have a better chance of getting a spot on the taxi for his monthly tail-chasing expedition. Daryl drags the toddler back by her shirt collar. Ensign Lincoln glances back at her and smiles. "You want to be a skipper, little one?" he asks.
"Skip!" Sweetheart echoes. "Skip! Skip! Skip!"
They arrive in the evening, just in time for a fish fry dinner at Henry's tavern. Henry greets them all excitedly, especially Sweetheart, who leaps in place and cries, "Buba! Buba!" Daryl's surprised she remembers him after all these months.
"I guess I'm not ever getting rid of that nickname." Henry picks his little sister up in a bear hug and then sets her on her feet. He hugs Carol next, and then extends a hand to Daryl. Daryl's surprised by the manly shake. Maybe fatherhood has toughened the kid up.
Henry's busy at the bar, but his wife Rachel sits with the Dixons at a table as they hungrily eat their dinner. Sweetheart's more interested in her nephew than her food, and when Daryl lets her down from her booster seat, she runs over and stands by Rachel's chair, with a hand on Rachel's knee, to peer down at little Zeke inside the sling across her chest. "Bay-bee," Sweetheart says. "Bay-bee. Sweetie's bay-bee!"
"Well, he is your nephew," Rachel tells her as she fishes little Zeke out of the sling. The baby has awoken and is squirming and fussing.
"Hungwy? Sweetie's babee hungwy?"
"It's not quite time for that," Rachel tells her as she pops a pacifier into Zeke's mouth. "I'll feed him in a little bit, when I'm done with my dinner." She looks across the table. "You want to hold your grandson, Daryl?"
"Uh…" His grandson? That's really what this kid is, he supposes, by law or marriage or custom or whatever. Mitch said as much, but no one has actually seriously called him grandpa yet. Or said the word grandson until now. The baby looks small for five months. Sweetheart wasn't that small at – well, come to think of it, they didn't know her at five months. She was at least six months when they found her. "Um – "
"- You don't have to." Rachel hands Zeke over to Carol instead. Carol settles him upright against her chest as he coos slightly. Sweetheart runs behind Rachel's chair, around the table, and stands by Carol's chair to look up at the baby there.
But when Zeke lifts his head, he doesn't look toward Sweetheart. He turns instead as if to look at Daryl. His arm slung across the back of Carol's chair and his empty plate pushed forward on the table, Daryl peers at the baby. "Thought ya said he had blue eyes." They're more of a light yellow-brown hazel, with some flecks of blue at the edges.
"Well, their eye color changes in the first year. It'll settle eventually. You know that. I'm sure it's in your book," Carol teases.
Daryl doesn't know why, but he realizes as he looks at the baby now that some small part of his brain, some weird fluky part of it, must have expected the baby to be black, just because he's named after Ezekiel. And that tiny percentage of his brain finally snaps into alignment with the rest of the more rational part of his brain as the little hazzle-eyed, blond, freckled, pale creature flops his forehead down on Carol's shoulder, rubs his eyes, and fusses. "Whitest damn kid I ever saw," Daryl murmurs. "Cute little bugger, though."
[*]
Dianne's old cabin has been turned into a bed and breakfast, since Oceanside is the port where all four communities meet up now. Henry has apparently already reserved and rented them a room – at a price unknown to Carol – because his cabin is far too small to house them all.
"I'm surprised Henry didn't ask me to stay with them and feed the baby when it wakes up to give them a break," Carol says as Daryl flings his backpack up on the bed and Sweetheart toddles over to look at the cot that has been placed in the room for her.
"Sweetie's bed?"
"Yeah," Daryl says. "Put yer bunny in there."
Sweetheart pulls down the sheet and lays her stuffed bunny with its head on the pillow. She then tucks it in, thrusting the sheet almost violently around its floppy arms.
"He doesn't need me to help as much as I thought he did," Carol continues a little despondently.
"Guess they figured shit out," Daryl says. "'Sides, he said Zeke's sleepin' through the night now. Six hours anyhow."
Carol shrugs. "I just thought I'd be needed more."
Daryl looks at her and huffs. "A couple months ago you were bitchin' he just wanted to see ya to help with the baby."
She sighs. "You're right. It's nice he just wants to see me. And I want to see Zeke. And I will help. I'll give Rachel a break here and there."
When they come out of the bedroom, an elderly Oceanside woman, who runs the bed and breakfast, is waiting with a pile of fresh towels and wash cloths. Carol takes them. "Agnes, was it?" The woman nods, and Carol says, "Thank you, Agnes."
"The wash basin is on the dresser," Agnes tells them. "If you need a shower, there's also outdoor showers from the old beach camp our water engineer managed to get working in April using a manual system that pumps from the well we dug last year. There are stalls for privacy. You have to wind the pump for about six minutes, get in, open the latch on the shower head, and then the water will run for about four minutes total, so shower fast. I always advise you get wet for thirty seconds, latch the showerhead closed, lather up, and then open the showerhead again to rinse off. It'll be cold."
"Thank you," Carol repeats.
"The living room and kitchen are common areas for all guests. I'll have breakfast ready for you at 8 AM, unless that's too early? I mean you are on vacation."
Are they? Carol hadn't realized they were, but it sure is starting to feel like it. Vacation? In this world? She never imagined the day. "No, 8 AM is great." Daryl never sleeps past 6:30 AM, even when he's not up to hunt, and Sweetheart never sleeps past 7. They'll both be plenty hungry by then. And maybe Carol can go over before breakfast to take Zeke for his first early morning feeding, if Rachel will pump tonight, and give the couple a chance to sleep in a little. It will give her a chance to enjoy her grandbaby, too.
"The second room will have Seaman Reedus and his lady friend in it," Agnes tells them. "I forget her name, but she arrived on the stagecoach from Hilltop this evening."
"Melissa," Carol says.
"And the last room's empty until Sunday, when another couple will be taking it," Agnes continues as Sweetheart pitter-patters over to the couch and head dives into the cushion before boosting herself up onto it. "Aaron from Alexandria and one of yours, I think."
"Mitch," Daryl murmurs.
"That was the name. I'd keep all of the windows open if I were you. It gets hot otherwise. It does cool down after about 8, and we usually have a nice ocean breeze. The beach is open for public use from 10 AM to 6 PM but before and after that, it's for pier and shore fishing only. Noisy people swimming and sunning aren't good for the fishing. You've probably seen Henry's new tiki bar. That's now open from 1 PM to 5:30 PM every day except Monday and Tuesday. The pub up in the old mess hall is also open Wednesday through Sunday, every night from 6 PM to 10 PM for drinks, and Thursday, Friday, and Saturday for dinner and drinks."
"Yes, we just ate there tonight," Carol says.
"My daughter does the cooking for the pub, did you like it?"
Well Carol's certainly not going to say no now. She was hungry and would have liked anything, but it wasn't as good as the chef's specials Mallory McBride makes for Linda's Tavern. Oceanside lost a real asset when Mallory married the captain. "It was delicious."
Agnes gives them a few more tips for "enjoying their stay" and then leaves them alone.
"Good Lord," Daryl mutters. "Thought she was never gonna shut up."
"Did you hear that?" Carol asks. "We're on vacation."
"Sweetie's bed!" Sweetie cries, snuggling up on her side stretched out on the couch.
"No, Sweetheart, your bed's in our bedroom," Carol tells her.
"Might not be a bad idea," Daryl murmurs. "Let 'er sleep out here. Give us some privacy tonight."
"She'll be into everything before we wake up if we leave her out here. Besides," Carol smiles teasingly, "privacy for what?"
Daryl shrugs. "Like ya said. We're on vacation."
"Maybe tomorrow." Carol kisses his cheek. "I'm tried from the trip and all the excitement."
In another thirty minutes, Sweetheart is settled, sleeping, in the cot in their rented room. Carol closes the book she's been sitting on the floor to read and joins Daryl, who's in bed with his hands behind his head starring up at the patterns the oil lamp is casting on the ceiling. Once she's settled, he rolls on his side and turns off the lamp and then rolls all the way over to face her.
"Goodnight, Pookie," she says before kissing his bare shoulder.
"Nite, Beautiful." He kisses her forehead and then rolls his back to her. Daryl will cuddle after sex, or on the couch sometimes in the evening, but he's not much for cuddling when he's trying to sleep.
Thirty minutes later, Carol awakens to the sound of Melissa's drunken giggling, to Seaman Reedus's voice saying, "You naughty thing, you," then a bedroom door opening and closing.
Beside her, Daryl pulls the pillow over his ears, and Carol drifts back to sleep.