Well, I don't really have an excuse for my absence. Just the usual not being able to focus and second-guessing my writing. But I am sorry to leave you all hanging. Hope you like this little chapter. Something is better than nothing (I hope). Thanks for reading!
When they left town it took all Annette had to warn her daughter not to go. Beth could read it in her mother's eyes. Annette kept it inside, telling Beth that she would always be there if she ever wanted to come back instead. For that Beth was appreciative, even more so now looking at it from a mother's perspective. It must have been incredibly hard to watch her youngest child jump on the back of a Harley and take off down the road not knowing when or if she'd return.
Maggie, to the opposite, didn't even say bye. She'd spoken her peace, peace being a relative term, the night before, telling Beth she was fucking up her life. She rightfully predicted she'd be back with nothing to show for her time gone except for a broken heart and a baby in her belly. Knowing Maggie had predicted exactly what happened made it all the more difficult to come home.
Shawn wasn't there to see her off either. Not because he was angry, he was just busy doing something else.
They were a family scattered in the wind, Beth was only following suit. Making it easier for everyone involved, following her own path. Making her own way.
Beth thanked Annette, sure she'd never need to come back. They'd visit for holidays or whatever, though they never did the years they were gone.
So they took off on that hot September afternoon on Daryl's bike. She packed her old high school backpack with very few belongings; a few changes of clothing, a coat, a couple of her favorite books, her journal. Daryl took even less.
That first night they slept under the stars, at an abandoned rest stop. Behind the building was a plot of trees, parking in the shadows, no one knew they were there. Sharing one dinky sleeping bag that Daryl stowed away in the saddlebag.
Blinded by love, it was everything her young heart had wanted. Just her and Daryl alone. Making love. The chill of the night air on her bare skin, Daryl buried deep inside her. She remembered feeling like the only ones in the world. And in that little world, they didn't need anyone but each other.
Daryl was always cautious with her. Almost too cautious and, sometimes, she had to take charge, show him what she needed. She shuffled until she was on top, flinging the flap of the sleeping bag off her shoulders. Bare skin glowing with the moon shining behind her, she rode him hard. Fast. Like there was no past and no future.
With him, she could be reckless. WIth him, she wasn't little Bethy Greene.
"Are we crazy?" Daryl had asked as they were dozing off, her head resting on his shoulder. His arms protectively surrounding her.
"What?" She asked sleepily. Riding for hours on a motorcycle was nothing like riding in a car. The wind wore at you, the constant awareness, it drained her.
"Are we crazy for taking off? I mean, are you sure 'bout this?" He asked. "Probably should have asked that before we left."
"Well, we are miles from home so I guess I better be sure." She smiled up at him, angled her head up, lightly kissing him. "And yes, we are crazy," she verified, whispering in the darkness. "But the good kind a' crazy."
The first few weeks were a repeat of that first day and night. Traveling for miles. No place to go, not a worry in the world. Crashing wherever they found a place. Occasionally they'd stay at a campground so they could shower, cook a decent meal over a fire or they'd fork over the money for a hotel if the weather got really bad.
Just as what little savings they had left dwindled down, they landed in a city in northern Georgia. Beth found work and Daryl did what he did. They'd spent a few precious months there in that run-down apartment together before Daryl grew restless and they moved on, skipping town one night. At first, the instability didn't bother her. Daryl would always take care of her, and she would take care of him.
They moved around a few times before Merle joined them and some of the enchantment faded. Whereas before it was just Beth and Daryl, everything now included Merle.
They, Beth, Daryl, and Merle eventually ended up in another city. And then a small town. Then another town. The next stop always promised untainted hope. Excitement. Maybe this was the place they could settle down?
"Because I can't get my heart broken again."
His eyes shifted to something other than anger. Hurt. Pain. Betrayal? "Fuck," he whispered, looking away.
"When I left it wasn't because I stopped loving you," she said wondering how he did not know this.
"Whoa, what?" He asked.
"I woulda' followed you to the grave before I got pregnant. I didn't go from loving you one day and not the next." Annoyingly, tears streamed down her face, how she hated them.
She hadn't meant to say so much. This wasn't about her or her broken heart. For years she'd been able to keep her devastation inside, rarely showing how badly leaving Daryl hurt her. She's tried her hardest to be present for Billie's sake. To not be an overly emotional basket case over lost love. But then Daryl comes back and within a few months here she is, crying in the alleyway at work being anything but in control.
"What I feel about you doesn't matter. It can't matter."
"How can it not matter?" He wondered aloud. It mattered to him.
Ignoring his question she went on. "I had to give this a chance, no matter how I felt. For Billie's sake. I thought once you got to know her you'd see what an amazing little girl she is and fall in love with her and want to be her daddy. Then Shane shows up and messes everything up. He's a reminder of the way we used to live. And how precarious and dangerous it actually was."
"Yeah, but that ain't the life you're livin' today, is it? It's not the life I'm tryin' to live anymore. I do want to be in Billie's life. In both your lives. How many times do I havta say it? The second I knew she existed there was no question in my mind. I want to help take care of her. Shane ain't shit to me, ya' understand me?"
He didn't think it was possible. He knew theoretically parents were supposed to love their children though he never experienced firsthand from his own parents. It was questionable if his parents ever felt a fraction of what he feels for Billie.
Beth had felt the same way. The second she knew Billie existed, just a tiny bean in her belly, she knew she loved her and wanted to be her Mama more than anything she'd ever wanted in her life. As her belly grew so did her love and when she had an ultrasound, the little squished blur on the screen made it even more real.
She had prepared herself to be a mother and a father to Billie. Even if Daryl somehow found out they had a daughter she didn't think he'd rush into daddy mode.
Yet, here he was fighting for Billie. Fighting for his right to be her father. He didn't take off with Shane. Didn't give up when Beth shut him out. He confronted her, wanting to figure it out together. And he said he loved Billie. He loved their little girl.
With sudden optimism stirring in her heart she was able to shove the anger and uncertainty away. With only a second's hesitation, she flung her arms around his neck. He probably thought she was insane but she didn't care.
He stood frozen for a moment. Afraid to move, afraid to breathe. Afraid the slightest reverberation might send them backsliding. Finally, he wrapped his arms around her waist, lowering his face to her neck until his lips were hovering just above her skin.
"This mean you ain't mad anymore?" He questioned.
"I wasn't mad. Just scared, I guess." Scared still.
"Beth," he said gruffly, meaning to ask her what she meant. Did she still love him? Does this change everything?
Did he really want to know?
"I am sorry for the way I treated you. Sorry you got caught up in the chaos. You gotta trust me when I say I'm here for good no matter who might show up from my past. No matter if I have to work shoveling cow shit. I'll happily do it to provide for Billie. I am here for both of you no matter what. Ya' understand?"
His eyes drifted down to her lips then quickly back to her eyes. He couldn't afford to be distracted by his feelings for her. But damn it, standing here together like they had so many times in the past, it felt right. Looking up at him, her eyes searched his for something. Hell if he knew what.
Reluctantly, he let her go. This new Daryl he's trying to be doesn't make moves on another man's girl.
Daryl wished he could have seen Billie that day, but Beth didn't bring it up and he didn't want to scare her off. He could wait. What was one more day? A few more hours really, if you don't include the hours he'd be asleep or working. Billie was his little girl and he didn't plan on going very many days in a row again without seeing her again. Beth seemed to understand that.
There was still plenty to be figured out. Beth admitted she still had feelings for him. Not in an I love you and have to be with you kind of way. In a matter-of-fact way, as though he should have known. He had no idea what to do with that information. Should he act on it? Wait for her to make a move? And what about Glenn?
He was sitting on the porch pondering these things and trying to decide if he was hungry enough to scrounge up something for dinner when he was surprised to see Beth's dusty Tahoe roll up his driveway. He stood, excitement mixing with trepidation. With the way the day had been going, he couldn't help but wonder if something else happened. He wondered if Shane hadn't left town like he'd told him to do.
His apprehension faded when he saw Beth's smile through the windshield, giving a little wave. He rounded the car and opened the door for her before she had the chance.
"Hey," she said, smiling, stepping down out of the vehicle. "I hope it's okay that we stop by. Not much going on at home tonight. Mama's got her book club and Maggie isn't home. And I think Shawn's got a girlfriend, but he hasn't brought it up to us yet." Beth realized she was rambling. "And, well, Billie wanted to see ya'."
"She did, did she?" Daryl questioned, unable to hide the grin.
"Yeah, she told me so," Beth teased. "She missed you."
"Well, I missed her," he answered honestly.
He stood there awkwardly for a moment then before he had a chance to think better of it, he took a step closer, running a hand over her shoulder. He needed that contact. The simple brush of a hand over fabric. "We're okay, right? After what happened today. We're okay?"
At the coffee house, just as things were getting interesting, they were cut short by the barista needing change for the register. They parted quickly and he left saying he'd call her. The air between them had felt lighter like they'd worked through whatever rift Shane caused, but he wanted to be sure she wasn't here to say good-bye one last time. The way things tended to go in his life, he wouldn't be surprised. Devastated, not surprised.
Beth nodded, "Yeah, we're okay."
He let out a sigh of relief and after a beat, he stepped away though he didn't want to. He shifted to the back door and opened it to find Billie strapped in her car seat holding both her beloved elephant and the giraffe he got her. When she saw him, she squealed and said "Hi," letting the word drag out into a Hiiiiii. She clapped her hands and then reached for Daryl.
He leaned in and unbuckled her, taking her into his arms. She clung to his neck, hugging him. It may have only been a few days, he had missed her. When she pulled away he flung her up into the air while she laughed a deep belly laugh.
"What's up, baby girl? Your Mama says you wanted ta' come for a visit?"
Beth stood back and watched as he tossed Billie up in the air, gaining a few feet of air space. It didn't make her uneasy as she thought it might. Seeing Billie's smile, hearing her laugh made it all okay. How easily children trust. Billie knew her father would never drop her. She was safe in Daryl's hands.
Soon Billie wiggled down and was on to the next thing, always exploring. Beth looked toward the house, memories flooding back. They had spent most of their time in Daryl's bed, occasionally hanging out with Merle and whoever else was there. They'd had a few monumental parties there as well.
"Wow, I haven't been here since, well, since the last time I was here with you. It looks pretty much the same."
"Yep, it is pretty much the same," Daryl chuckled. "'Cept for the deck. Finally fixed that."
True enough. It was rebuilt with new lumber. Could still smell the fresh wood. "Want to come in?" She knew where he lived, had spent plenty of time there in the past, there was no reason for him to be reluctant.
"Sure," she responded happily, picking Billie up and following Daryl inside.
As her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the interior of the house, she didn't miss Daryl moving a pistol in its holster from the small kitchen table to the top of the fridge. It wasn't a secret that he carried when they were together, usually in a holster at his back. At the time he didn't have the safest of occupations. She didn't ask about it, not today. Not after what she'd put him through already. She wanted nothing more than things to remain on an even keel for the indiscernible future.
"Somedays I think of just tearing it down," he admitted, turning back to her.
"Oh, don't do that. It's a cute house." True enough, she could see its potential.
He looked at her, "It's okay, you don't gotta' be nice."
Beth laughed. "I'm serious. It's got good bones." She really had no idea what that meant. It was something she'd heard Shawn and Glenn say when talking about the old bunkhouse Glenn and Maggie were planning on fixing up.
"Guess I could add on if need be," he said, having no idea where that came from. Who would he be adding on for?
There were two small bedrooms. Maybe, someday if Beth ever allowed it, Billie could spend the night. He'd already had his mind made up she would have the second bedroom, whether Beth allowed her to stay over or not. He could paint it a cheery color. Pick up some toys. Get a crib for her. Or was she old enough for a bed? He wasn't sure and didn't want to ask. Didn't want to appear to be clueless as to what type of bed his daughter was old enough to sleep in.
"It was big enough for you and Merle and your parents," Beth pointed out.
"Yeah, I guess so."
Daryl spent most of his time growing up away from the house, out in the woods. His dad was drunk more than he wasn't. His mom was always working and when she wasn't she was sleeping, passed out with the help of off-brand valium her doctor prescribed to her. Merle was perpetually pissed off and quickly following in their old man's footsteps. Then his parents died within a year of each other. It saddened him to think how much easier it was to breathe once they were gone. The constant tension between his parents, between Merle and their dad, between Daryl and Merle had been palpable. After their parents died, he and Merle became closer, the tension quickly fading away.
Every time he thought of his parents or Merle it was like a punch to the gut. So he focused on Billie, realizing he didn't have any toys. "Shit, I don't got anything for her to play with."
"Oh that's fine," Beth said, reaching into her giant bag and pulling out a baggie of crayons and a small notepad as well as two small dolls with snarled hair.
"Come prepared?" He joked.
"You gotta' when you have a toddler."
"Hold up, I think I got something," he said, disappearing into the room he and Mere had shared growing up. Beth could hear him shuffling around, dropping something, swearing, and then returning with a box of Lincoln Logs.
"I used to love these. Is it okay that she play with them? They're a little dusty probably," he said blowing dust off the lid, removing it.
"Yes! They're perfect."
"Hey, Billie," Daryl said, turning the box upside down and dumping the logs out.
Instantly enthralled, Billie went to examine the pile of miniature logs. Daryl sat on the floor and Billie sat in his lap, comfortable with him as if she'd always done it. He began showing her how to put them together. Surprisingly she watched curiously, patiently, with her hands folded in her lap instead of just treating into it with toddler abandon. Beth sat on the couch and watched. Her tiny world that she almost let Shane destroy. How quickly things can come crashing down if you let them. Never again would she allow that to happen.
Soon Daryl and Billie had built a tower almost as tall as Billie herself. "Mama wook!" She shouted, Mama look.
"Wow, that's a great tower!" She took her phone out and snapped a picture of Billie, Daryl and the log tower.
"Alright girl, you ready?" Daryl asked Billie. She nodded seeming to know what he meant. Beth had no idea until he backed up and said, "Ready, set… go!" And Billie swung her arms, knocking the tower down with the enthusiasm only a toddler can possess.
This went on a few more times, Daryl and Billie would build a tower and Billie would knock it down. When she grew tired of that, Daryl built a house for her dolls and left her to play on her own, going between her stuffed elephant and giraffe and the toys Beth procured from her bag and the Lincoln Logs. He sat next to Beth on the sofa.
"I was gonna throw some hot dogs on the grill if y'all wanna stay for dinner," Daryl suggested. The tips of his ears poking through his shaggy hair turned endearingly pink, sending Beth a bashful look.
There was a time when there wasn't anything between them, there was nothing he couldn't ask her. They freely shared everything. It was magical for a while.
Now he fumbled asking Beth if they wanted to stay for dinner. It hurt, feeling that gap between them.
Well, there was only one way to bridge that gap. "Sure! We love hot dogs," she said a little too eagerly.