AN: Here we are, another chapter here!
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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Carol was honestly awed at the progress they made on the house. She felt like they'd no sooner settled on plans—having made some personal adjustments to the pre-made plans that Tyreese had to show them—than the frame of their house was already in place just as if it had sprouted out of the ground like a plant.
The land that Daryl and Merle had purchased was beautiful. It was peaceful, and quiet. Carol could easily see herself living there, and she could easily imagine her children—because she was just really starting to allow herself to truly imagine growing a picturesque little family with Daryl—playing in the yard.
Merle and Andrea's house was really taking shape, though. It was almost done, really. It required all the finishing touches—the ones that Andrea was most excited about—before it would be completely done, but they could walk through the structure and easily see each piece of it as it would be when it was finished and they were ready to move in.
Carol and Daryl's house, at this moment, was a little more difficult to picture. The frame was in place, but Carol found that she lacked vision to really see the finished product just yet.
"Come here a minute," Daryl said, calling her toward a spot where he was standing. Sophia, near the trailer where Merle and Andrea would continue to live until their house was complete, was riding her bike in large circles around the trailer while Andrea and Merle kept an eye on her.
Carol walked over to where Daryl was standing, in front of the house, smoking a cigarette.
"Something wrong?" She asked.
"Nothin's wrong," Daryl said. "Come 'ere."
Carol did come, allowing Daryl to slip an arm around her shoulder and pull her close to him. She smiled to herself when he hugged her against his side. She closed her eyes, for just a moment, and drank in the simple pleasure.
They'd gone from newly weds to old married couple overnight, she felt. They were busy—and busy wasn't even the right word for it. Daryl worked at the shop and worked with the club handling things with the hotel. Carol handled paperwork at the shop for an hour or two a day, and she kept the Liberty Inn Café running almost full time. They both gave Sophia as much attention as they could, when they weren't at work, which meant that, honestly, they were left with a deficit of attention for each other.
That was life, perhaps, but it was nice to enjoy even a moment, like this one, where they could simply be quiet and close to one another.
"You know where we are right now?" Daryl asked.
Carol laughed to herself and snuggled her face into him.
"In the yard?"
"On our front porch," Daryl said. "You got to have a lil' imagination. We're gonna fix it up nice, too. Chairs. Nice ones. Them big, sturdy rocking chairs. Gonna sit out here and have coffee damn near every morning while I smoke a cigarette. You can sit out here an' rock Pea Baby."
"What if it's too cold?" Carol asked.
Daryl playfully pinched her side and she jumped. He patted her and laughed to himself.
"Can I have this?" He asked. "Just for this minute right here. That's all the hell I'm askin' before your practicality and reality get in the way."
"I can't wait to sit on the porch, in the morning, and rock Pea Baby while we have coffee," Carol offered. "As long as the coffee's decaf. I'll be nursing the baby for a while—unless it bothers you."
"That a serious statement?" Daryl asked.
"Some people nurse for several years," Carol offered.
"No—I mean, I know that. Kind of…I guess. I think I knew that. I meant—are you really askin' my ass if it's gonna bother me that'cha feedin' our kid?"
"It bothered Ed," Carol said.
"Fuckin' breathin' air bothered Ed, far as I can tell," Daryl pointed out.
"He made me wean Sophia a long time before I was ready," Carol said. "I had to switch her to formula just to make him happy."
"We gonna do what's best for you," Daryl said. "And what's best for the baby. Any and all of 'em we have. You'll tell me what the hell needs to be done and it'll be done. Simple as that."
"You make everything sound so easy," Carol said.
"The hell's hard about it? Everything is easy," Daryl said quickly. "Now it is. I got you and—you make me so I feel like I can do anything. So, whatever the hell I gotta do? It's easy. Just get that shit done, and that's it."
Daryl put out his cigarette and tugged Carol toward the structure of their house. She followed him, walking up the temporary and makeshift steps that took them into the doorway.
"What'cha think? You lovin' it?"
"To be honest, I don't really have the vision to see it," Carol said. "I mean—I love the plans we drew up, but this is so confusing that it's hard for me to visualize it."
"It's just like the plans," Daryl assured her. "I got that kinda vision, and I can damn near see us, already, sittin' in the livin' room waitin' on the kids to open Christmas presents and…hell…I don't even know. Cookin' some big ass family meal in the kitchen. I can see me helpin' the kids make some kinda Mother's Day breakfast. To bring you in bed an' all."
Carol smiled at him.
"You're going to make me Mother's Day breakfast?" She asked.
Daryl's face blushed pink.
"You think that's—dumb or somethin'? That I'm daydreamin' about that shit."
"I think it's romantic," Carol assured him. She planted a kiss on his cheek. "And I love you for it. I've never had much of a Mother's Day."
"What about Sophia?"
"She's only five," Carol said. "She couldn't arrange it on her own. She didn't even know when it was Mother's Day." Carol shook her head. "Ed always said Mother's Day was for good mothers. Not for people like me who didn't—who didn't deserve to even be mothers."
"Suppose we don't talk about his ass no more," Daryl offered. "Makes me feel like barfin'." Carol nodded and sucked in a breath, allowing the cold, crisp air to somewhat cleanse her of the heaviness she felt whenever she thought of Ed.
Daryl wrapped his arms around her, from behind, and rested his chin on her shoulder. She smiled to herself when his arms encircled her. His hand found her abdomen and rested there—warmer than expected. She closed her eyes.
She had started to show, in her opinion, very early. She thought she showed far earlier than she had with Sophia. Their little one wasn't big enough for her to feel it moving yet, but her pants were snug enough that she'd broken down and purchased two pair that would grow with her—something to keep her from spending too much money. She'd felt almost sick, being forced to buy clothes, and she'd shown them to Daryl with the promise that she'd made the smartest choice she could—something she could get the most use of and the most miles out of. But Daryl hadn't made her feel like buying clothes for herself was some kind of crime against him. In fact, he'd simply asked her to model them and he'd seemed unusually thrilled by the fact that they were made with elastic so that they could grow with her expanding tummy.
Her doctor assured her that, though she was showing early, it was nothing but the location and tilt of her uterus and the fact that she'd had one child before that caused it. The baby was healthy. She was healthy. The weight of both of them was good. Her sugar, too, was good. She had nothing to do, according to her doctor, except to continue doing what she was doing and to stop worrying as much as possible.
And though he hadn't actually said it, and though she hadn't actually asked him yet, Carol thought that Daryl must approve of the little evidence of their growing addition, because he was fond of cupping her belly in his hand and marveling over how it felt under his palm.
Carol already had an appointment for a scan that would, if their little one cooperated, tell them if it was a boy or a girl. They simply had to wait and, in the meantime, they had to decide if they wanted to know. Merle and Andrea, being offered that information, had decided against finding out what they were having. Both of them had decided that the excitement of finding out when the baby was born most appealed to them.
Carol turned quickly, and Daryl allowed her the freedom of movement. She hugged against him, inhaling the smell of his cut—leather had become a comfort scent for her that she never imagined it would be before. He squeezed her.
"I miss you," Carol breathed out.
Laughter rumbled in Daryl's chest.
"I'm right here," Daryl said.
"I mean—I miss you," Carol said. "I don't know. We've been busy."
"Ain't likely to slow down too much," Daryl admitted. "Especially not with Thanksgivin' bein' at the end of the week and then Christmas comin' up. But…" He stopped.
"But what?" Carol asked, backing away from him to look at his face.
He brushed a finger against her cheek and down to her jaw, he let it run the length of her jaw, and he dropped it just before touching her chin. It was a simple gesture—an excuse, even, to touch her—and Carol appreciated it for what it was.
Daryl shrugged his shoulders.
"We could both take a weekend off. All the way off. No hotel. No café. No shop. Hell—no club, if there ain't no real ass emergency. We could do somethin' just the four of us."
"The four of us?" Carol asked.
Daryl gave her a crooked smile.
"Was you leavin' Sophia or Pea Baby out?" He asked.
Carol laughed to herself.
"I'm not used to—thinking of Pea Baby as a real person, Daryl," Carol said. "Right now—Pea Baby sometimes feels like nothing but a daydream. A daydream that—makes me nauseous sometimes, and so hungry I could eat an elephant other times…and sometimes makes me feel drained and cranky. And makes my pants not fit—and makes me not feel very attractive."
Daryl furrowed his brow at her and chewed his lip. He nodded.
"You're beautiful," he said. It was simple. Matter-of-fact. It was clear that he saw no need to wax too poetic over the statement. The words, he seemed confident, said enough on their own. Carol smiled to herself.
"You would say that no matter what," Carol said.
"And I would mean it, too," Daryl said. "Hell—I guess we been neglectin' each other, ain't we? Too damn many irons in the fire. Tryin' to get everything going for a future. It's all causin' us to forget that the present is happenin' right the fuck now and we're missin' it in some kinda damn fog of bein' dog ass tired and as busy as a one-legged man in an ass kickin' contest."
Carol laughed.
"It'll be worth it, though, right? I mean—when we have our beautiful house and—with as fast as Ty's got men working for you, we'll have it soon. We'll be moved in with plenty of time for me to put the nursery together before I'm too fat to do it. And—the money doesn't hurt. From the café and your work."
"It'll be worth it," Daryl assured her. "Still—I don't wanna do this. I don't want us to start off neglectin' each other and every damn thing else. I'm serious. We'll get through Thanksgivin' and then we'll take a weekend off. If everything can't run without us for a couple of days without implodin', then ain't nobody else doin' their job. We'll do somethin' nice together."
"Sophia's adoption will be coming through, soon," Carol said. "Could be by the end of the week, Andrea said. We could—do something special to celebrate that with her."
"Take her to Union," Daryl said. "Get her somethin' to eat that she's really gonna like. Take her to the fancy ass ice cream parlor they got. Take her to the mall. Let her pick out somethin' good to celebrate."
"It's almost Christmas," Carol said.
"And? She don't get adopted but once," Daryl said. "Besides—it's Daddy's prerogative. I get to get her somethin' good for her adoption."
"Fine," Carol ceded. "I know it's—added expense, but…could we buy a Christmas tree? Maybe—an artificial one? One of those nice ones? I saw they're having a sale on them soon, and we could save on the expense of buying a new one each year. It'll last a long time. And a few ornaments? The house is small, but…"
Daryl didn't let her finish. He brought his mouth to hers and she abandoned her attempt to speak and pressed her lips against his. She smiled at the kiss, and her smile ultimately broke it.
"Is that your way of telling me to shut the hell up?"
Daryl grinned.
"Somethin' like that," he said. "Consider this shit settled. We pick a weekend. Hell—maybe we make that shit a long one. Spoil the hell outta the newest damn Dixon, 'cause we know her adoption'll be final by then, and we go buy a tree. All the trimmin's. Put that up. I got one requirement, though."
"What's that?" Carol asked.
"I want us to get some ornaments," Daryl said. "But I want some specific ones."
"You have aspirations as a decorator?" Carol teased.
"Want one for Pea Baby's first Christmas."
"It's not Pea Baby's first Christmas, though," Carol said. "You do that after they're born. Not before. Just in case…"
"They some damn law that says that?" Daryl asked.
"Fine," Carol said, ceding it.
"Want—Sophia Dixon's first Christmas."
"She's five," Carol said with a laugh.
"But she weren't Sophia Dixon then," Daryl reasoned. "Want somethin' to commemorate the year she become a Dixon."
"Fine," Carol said with a laugh. "If we can't buy one, we'll buy something so I can make one. How's that?"
Daryl nodded his approval of the idea.
"And I want us to get an ornament with the year on it. Like somethin' we start each year. Our own tradition."
"I like that," Carol said.
"It's a deal?"
"It's a deal. Now—let's go over to the trailer. Andrea wanted my opinion on some flooring."
