AN: Here we are, another chapter here.
I posted Chapter 89 this morning, so please make sure that you read it (and let me know what you think, if you're so moved).
I hope you enjoy this one, as well. Don't forget to let me know what you think!
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"I googled it, Merle," Daryl said. "And it don't say nothin' about potato salad or steak. We're good."
"Maybe you gotta put the ingredients in separate," Merle said.
"You sure it weren't dogs you was thinkin' about?" Daryl asked. "It's dogs that get poisoned by some food, Merle. I don't think it's pregnant women. There's pickles in that potato salad and, if I remember correctly? That's like supposed to be prime pregnant woman food. And red meat's good for 'em. I think. Gotta be. Listen it's…it's got iron and…I don't know, it helps the blood. Blood's quality's important for babies. Steak helps give 'em better blood quality."
"You get all that from your phone?" Merle asked.
"You'd get a lotta shit outta your phone, brother, if you'd learn to use it."
"Andrea's been teachin' me things. Look—I got a lot of stuff here with my camera. Even got—look at this…you wanna see our Peanut?"
Daryl accepted Merle's phone when his brother had found what he was looking for. He'd taken a video of the doctor talking about their Peanut at the appointment he'd arranged for Andrea. He didn't have the steadiest hands in the world, but he'd captured the moment, at least.
"Hey—I'ma do that," Daryl said. "Next time we go back."
"You can hear the heart," Merle said. "You hear it? Fast lil' fucker. Sounds like he's gonna stroke out or some shit, but that's normal she said. Weren't shit that Andrea was doin' wrong or nothin'. Doctor told her she was doin' it all right. Their hearts are just real fast like that."
Daryl hummed.
"Yeah—ours was fast, too. She said it was OK."
For late December, it was an unusually mild evening. Daryl and Merle had been working on the little shop that Daryl was constructing in the back yard with Carol's blessing. A friend of theirs had owed Daryl a favor, and he'd poured a foundation for the thing, but the construction of it—simple since it wasn't meant to be too damn fancy—was mostly going to be left to them, Axel, Tyreese, and another friend they knew who was a damn good electrician. It was going up fast, and it was giving them an excuse to dust off skills that got rusty if they weren't used.
Carol and Andrea had gone off with a couple of their girlfriends to buy some clothes that fit better. Sprout wasn't too obvious just yet, but Carol's clothes didn't have enough give to keep their little one comfortable. Daryl figured it was an overall bad idea to smash the baby, so he'd been as enthusiastic as he could be when Carol had mentioned going shopping with Andrea to get a few things that were Sprout and Peanut friendly.
As long as they were going to be at the house working, and as long as it wasn't that cold anyway, Daryl had proposed that he and Merle pick up the fixings for supper and make a steak dinner to surprise the women. He'd already texted Carol to skip a big meal out, if she could, and to tell Andrea they were having dinner at the house, so Carol wasn't going to drop Andrea at home. Instead, she'd bring her with her when she came.
Daryl and Merle had knocked off a little early. The potato salad was made and cooling. The salad was made and covered in the kitchen. As soon as Daryl got the message from Carol that they were on their way, they'd fired up the grill.
The steaks, if they'd timed this right, would come off the grill just in time to rest before the ladies came walking through the door.
Merle was managing the grill, having insisted that he had some special touch with the grill. Daryl didn't much care. He was simply enjoying the company, the fresh air of the backyard, his beer, and a cigarette.
He was kicked back, googling things that Merle came up with as they crossed his mind.
Daryl had ordered Carol's steak to be medium well, and Merle had suddenly gotten concerned that maybe steak had to be cooked to a certain point for pregnant women, or might even be dangerous for them—though he couldn't remember if he'd actually heard that somewhere or had simply made it up. They were moving forward, though, with the steak as planned.
"How they comin'?" Daryl asked.
"Good cuts of meat," Merle mused.
"Carol showed it to me. You just go to the back at the store—at the meat counter? You ring the bell back there, and they'll cut you any damn thing you want. I don't buy it in the case no more. I like 'em to show me what the hell I'm gettin' so I know it's fresh. They don't charge extra or nothin'."
"Still got deer in the freezer at the house," Merle mused. "You oughta get some. I bet it's good for the baby blood or whatever. Still got burger, some stew cuts, and I think some cubed steak."
"I'll get a couple packs," Daryl said.
"I'll swing by after work tomorrow and get it out the freezer. Bring it when I come to work on this. You got a plate, brother? This here is ready to come off…"
Daryl got up from his chair and brought Merle the clean plate that he'd brought after taking the dirty one inside that he'd used to carry the steaks outside. Merle moved the steaks over to the plate and passed it back to Daryl. He was finishing gathering up the grilling tools and preparing to go inside. Daryl carried the meat.
"Grab my beer an' my cigarettes, would'ja?" Daryl called back behind him. Merle hummed at him, but he took that as evidence that his brother would, in fact, bring in everything they'd left outside.
Daryl set the table while Merle situated the food in the center of it and sent Daryl back to get serving utensils while he fixed drinks—sure that tea would be sufficient for Carol and Andrea. Beer would do for Daryl and Merle both.
"What's with all the lil' ass trees, brother?" Merle asked, walking over and admiring Sprout's tree and the little angel tree.
Daryl didn't think that it was his place to tell anyone about the baby that simply hadn't come to be. That was Carol's business. Of course, she'd chosen to share it with Daryl, but that didn't mean it really gave him the right to share it with anybody else—not without her permission, at least.
"Just lil' Sprout trees," Daryl said.
Merle laughed to himself.
"How many trees your kid need, Darylina?"
"As many damn trees as we want," Daryl said.
"Alright," Merle mused. "Don't get your panties in a knot. We ain't got a tree yet." He walked over to admire the Christmas tree.
"Clyde—outside of town? He'll get you a good tree."
"Got all the fixin's," Merle said. "Just ain't gone to pick the damned thing up yet."
"Better go 'fore they picked the fuck over," Daryl said.
"I'll go tomorrow, maybe," Merle said. "Hell—maybe we'll go tonight. Eat somethin'…Andrea ain't got her car. We'll go tonight."
They didn't have any longer to talk about whether or not it was a perfect evening to buy a tree, because Carol turned into the driveway. Daryl saw the headlights and took that as his call to go outside. He figured that she might have buckled down and done some serious shopping, so she'd need a hand getting things inside. Merle followed him, content to go ahead and move Andrea's purchases to his truck.
Daryl was prepared to carry six to ten bags, but Carol got out and pulled only two from the backseat.
"I've got it," she said, when Daryl reached for it, but he insisted that she at least let him have the bags. They were, at least, pretty full, but they were still a great deal lighter than he expected. Merle, too, looked a little concerned as he transferred Andrea's bags to the truck.
"You go get some more later?" Merle asked. "Like—you buy 'em in sizes or somethin'?"
"They come in sizes," Andrea said. "Like anything else."
"This gonna be enough to get to the next size?" Daryl asked.
"How much do I need?" Carol asked.
Daryl laughed and stepped aside so that Merle could open the door and let them all inside the house.
"You gonna know the answer better'n me," Daryl said. "It's just—don't seem like much."
"It's plenty," Carol said, taking the bags from him inside the house. He relinquished them to her since she was determined to have them.
"You gonna show me what'cha got?"
"Maybe later," she said. "We have company."
"It's Merle and Andrea," Daryl said, laughing to himself.
"Later," Carol said, starting toward the bedroom with the bags.
Daryl let her go, and he turned his attention to Merle and Andrea.
"Go ahead," he said. "Sit down. Meat's rested. We can start as soon as Carol gets back."
"You gotta pee or somethin'?" Merle asked Andrea.
"Merle…" she said, clearly thinking he shouldn't have asked her that in front of Daryl.
"It's like a forty-five-minute drive," Merle said. "An' you gotta pee like every ten to fifteen minutes."
"I'll be right back," Andrea said, as though Merle's assertion that her bladder might not hold out through dinner made her suddenly aware that he was right. She went down the hallway, and Daryl could tell from her footsteps that she was headed to the master bathroom, where Carol was, instead of stopping in the hallway bath. He didn't understand it, but he knew that women had a thing about pissing together, so he left it alone and just accepted that such a thing might extend to the house as well.
"You think that's enough clothes?" Daryl asked Merle.
"I think Andrea took more'n that when we went to get married," Merle said. "She'll change clothes like four times a day."
"Prob'ly 'cause they gotta—you know—grow into it or somethin'."
Their pondering over the clothes didn't last long. Carol and Andrea both came back from the bedroom at the same time, though Carol led the way down the hallway.
Daryl thought that, maybe, she just had to piss something awful because she looked happier when she came down the hallway than she'd looked when she'd left the room. She gave him a smile.
"Y'all didn't have to make dinner," she said. "We could have picked something up."
"But what you picked up wouldn't have been good for baby blood," Merle offered. Carol and Andrea both furrowed their brows in his direction and Merle sucked his teeth before he took a swig of his beer and laughed quietly. "We been—doin' research," he offered.
"Hey—I get a kiss?" Daryl asked.
Carol's attention turned immediately to him. Her smile was renewed and she wrapped her arms around him and offered him the kiss that he requested.
"Payment enough for cookin' any damn thing," he offered. "But if you wanted to tip me later…"
"We have company," Carol said.
"That's why I said later…" Daryl offered with a grin. She gave him a warning look, and her cheeks colored pink. "It's Andrea an' Merle."
"Sit down, brother," Merle said.
Daryl was proud of Merle. For all his sometimes-barbaric ways, Daryl turned just in time to see his brother sliding Andrea's chair under the table. Daryl followed suit before he took his seat and began passing around the food.
"How's the workshop coming?" Carol asked.
"Good," Daryl said. "Better than expected, really. I think we gonna finish it a lot faster than I thought in the beginning."
"I'm excited for you to have a place to do some of your projects," Carol said. "I know you miss them."
"You have a good time shopping?" Daryl asked.
Carol and Andrea locked eyes across the table. Daryl had been around them enough to know, though, that was something women did. The two of them had some ability to communicate without a word. Daryl was almost certain they could have telepathic conversations.
"We had a good time," Carol said.
"Good," Daryl said.
"Got'cha somethin' sexy to show me?" Merle asked Andrea.
"We bought maternity clothes, Merle," Andrea said. Watching her and Carol, both, Daryl figured that the steaks they were running around their plate were getting more exercise dead than they had alive.
"So?" Merle asked.
"Maternity clothes are…not sexy," Andrea offered.
Daryl caught Merle's eyes across the table. In hindsight, maybe Carol and Andrea weren't the only two people who could have conversations in that silent and nearly telepathic manner, because Daryl understood everything his brother communicated with nothing more than a glance.
"Whoever the hell thinks that shit ain't met you yet, Sugar," Merle offered.
Daryl glanced at Carol to see what her reaction might be—if she was seconding Andrea's assessment of things or not. She looked just a shade less green than she had when Sprout had insisted that she enjoy a diet rich in ginger ale and saltine crackers. Since she was sitting to his left, Daryl simply found her knee under the table and squeezed it. When she looked at him, he winked at her, and she smiled and blushed slightly.
"I don't know…about sexy," Carol offered. "But…we got a couple of cute dresses. They kind of match, though, because we both liked them."
"Can't wait to see 'em," Daryl offered.
"You get somethin' green, Sugar?" Merle asked.
Andrea smiled and laughed quietly.
"Yes, Merle, I got a green dress."
"Do I wanna know?" Daryl asked. Andrea's cheeks ran a darker pink.
"Merle likes green," Andrea said.
"He ain't never been too damn partial to it before," Daryl offered.
"Things change, brother," Merle responded. Daryl let him have it.
"Them steaks too done…or…not done enough?" Daryl asked.
"Perfect," Carol insisted. Andrea echoed her.
"Sprout just—ain't likin' it or…?"
"We had a kind of big lunch," Carol said. "Before you said you were cooking. I'm sorry…"
"Nothin' but a thing," Daryl said. "We'll put it up for you. You can eat it later. Or tomorrow. Take it for lunch."
"Eat what'cha can," Merle said, directing his words to Andrea. "We gonna get us a Christmas tree when we leave here. You don't wanna be starvin' an' get sick." Merle looked at Daryl with an unquestionably sincere expression. "Her ass gets sick as a dog if she gets too hungry these days."
"I don't know if that's…polite dinner conversation," Andrea said. Merle laughed.
"I don't recall sayin' I was polite dinner company," Merle said. "Eat the rest of that—or what the hell your ass does at the Christmas tree place ain't gonna be polite neither."
Daryl swallowed back his amusement, but when Merle simply set about cutting Andrea's steak up for her and pushing the little pieces into a pile that threatened to spill over the edge of her plate like one of those penny gambling machines if she didn't eat it quickly enough, Daryl had to admit that he'd found a way to get his point across—and to get Andrea moving in the direction that pleased him best.
Daryl didn't push Carol to do more than pick at her food, but he was glad they didn't have anything planned but a quiet night at home.