AN: Here we are, another addition to the Poppy collection. This one is a continuation, of sorts, for the last chapter.
I hope you enjoy! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!
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"Oh, hello!" Carol declared, taking Poppy into her arms just after she'd freed her from her car seat. The greeting she'd given her as soon as she'd crawled into Daryl's vehicle—while he'd been throwing things over the center console and into the foot of the backseat to make more room on her side—hadn't been enough for either one of them.
Carol closed her eyes as she hugged the little girl that was amused by such a good hug and, in return, wrapped arms and legs around Carol to squeeze her back as hard as she could.
Carol would have been content, in that moment, to be crushed by Poppy's affection.
When Carol opened her eyes and shifted Poppy to one hip, she smiled at Daryl. He had already retrieved her picnic bag from the vehicle, along with the bag that he would, most assuredly, need for Poppy.
"Does everyone get one of those hugs, or they're just for Poppy?" He asked.
Carol's cheeks told her that she was more flattered by the question than maybe she had a right to be over a simple request for a hug.
He was flirting, and no man except Ed had ever flirted with Carol—at least not that she'd noticed. Ed, admittedly, had been pretty sparing with his flirtation. He'd preferred a much more straightforward method of getting what he wanted, when he wanted it—which Carol had assumed was just how men outside of her books operated.
She appreciated Daryl's flirtation, and the fact that his flirtation made his cheeks color a striking shade of pink.
"Maybe not everyone…" Carol said. Her pulse picked up. She was going to flirt, too, and the thrill of simply flirting with Daryl was enough to have her feeling a little lightheaded and squirmy in her gut—a feeling entirely out of character for a woman her age. "But…" she hesitated and took a deep breath, doing her best to convince herself to keep going, "there might be one for a good-looking man with a precious little girl."
"Damn," Daryl said. "Almost had it for a minute there with the precious little girl. I'll look around for one that fits your bill, though, just soon as we get set up."
He smiled at Carol, clearly hopeful, and she laughed quietly at his joke. She reached an arm out to him—the one not holding his daughter—and he came to accept what was probably not her best hug.
She tensed just to feel his body halfway close to hers. In the simple, almost sideways, hug, she could feel his muscles beneath his shirt. She could smell a quick whiff of his scent mixed with soap, laundry detergent, and probably a quick spritz of cologne.
Her body reacted in such a way that she wanted to scold it, and she felt her cheeks run red. His cheeks mirrored the color, and she wondered if he had suffered a similar reaction.
He cleared his throat and walked ahead, leading the way to where they were going—the playground and picnic area was a short walk from the parking long.
"You can put her down, if you want," Daryl said. "She can walk just fine."
Carol smiled at Poppy, and Poppy grinned back at her to show her all of her teeth.
"Can you walk just fine?" Carol asked.
"No," Poppy insisted through her smile, shaking her head. She broke into a little giggle.
"You need to be carried?" Carol asked.
"No," Daryl said, from a step or two ahead of them. He laughed quietly at Poppy's antics. "She don't."
"Yes, she do," Poppy insisted, nodding her head.
"You put her down if you want, Carol," Daryl said.
Poppy wrapped her arms around Carol's neck.
"No—please don't put me down. Don't put me down, Carol," she insisted.
"That's Miss Carol to you," Daryl instructed, stopping and half-turning to give Poppy a look in case she wasn't understanding that he wasn't leaving the door open for her to test boundaries when it came to good manners. "Say it right, and say you're sorry."
Poppy frowned and her bottom lip bulged out just far enough to make it clear that she was sensitive either to upsetting her daddy, to being forced to call Carol "Miss Carol," or, perhaps, to a bit of both. She leaned her head against Carol's shoulder and Carol's chest squeezed in response.
"Sorry, Miss Carol," Poppy offered, her voice slightly muffled by Carol's shirt and her words slightly garbled by her age and pronunciation.
"It's OK," Carol assured her. "Look—is that the playground?"
Poppy lifted her head. Suddenly, being carried didn't quite have the appeal that it had had on the short little path between the parking lot and here. Poppy kicked her legs with excitement and Carol put her down quickly. She raced off, carrying a warning from Daryl to be careful as she shot past him, and ran directly to the playground.
Daryl slowed his steps and allowed Carol to catch up with him. She reached to try to take something that he was carrying, but he playfully side-stepped to keep it away from her reach. She felt her face grow warm again and ache in the way that was becoming oddly familiar when she thought of Daryl—and she found herself thinking of him a lot.
"There's nobody here," Carol said, following Daryl over to the picnic table.
It was true. The park, although quite nice, was empty. Poppy was the only child on the playground, not that it seemed to bother her too much. She was already occupying herself with climbing up one of the structures.
"Not right now," Daryl said. "It's on about lunchtime. Most the parents have done took their kids to get somethin' to eat. It'll be clear 'til around two, probably. Then, they'll start tricklin' in. Over there are some basketball courts and things. The older kids come down that little walk there and head over to the courts, but that's later in the day, usually."
"Poppy doesn't mind playing by herself?" Carol asked.
She could have chosen to sit on the opposite side of the picnic table that Daryl had chosen, so that they could have a conversation across the table. That would have been the normal thing to do. She told herself as much, even as she chose to sit beside him on the bench instead. He didn't say anything. In fact, she thought he looked a little relieved, rather than annoyed.
"She really loves that pirate ship wheel thing up there," Daryl said. "And when there's more kids, she don't hardly get to spin it. Same with that little purple dinosaur thing over there. She likes ridin' it, but most the kids that play here are bigger'n her, so she don't get to ride it much. I try to say something every now and again, but half the damn time the women that are here with their kids look at me like I'm going to do something to them or their kids. I don't ever figure it's my place, then, to teach their kids about manners. I usually say somethin' and, then when nothin' changes, I just remind Poppy she's gotta share and it just ain't her turn."
"That doesn't seem fair," Carol said. "It can't always be not-Poppy's turn! They have to share, too!"
Daryl smirked at her.
"You fired up about it?" He asked, a hint of teasing in his voice.
Carol felt embarrassed for half a second, but she realized that he wasn't really teasing her.
"Maybe I am," she said. "A little."
"Maybe one day you can tell one of them women that their kid's time is up. That way they won't have to look at me like I'm some creeper hangin' around the playground, instead of Poppy's only damn parent just tryin' to get her a turn on the dinosaur she likes best."
Carol smiled sympathetically.
"Maybe one day I'll do that," Carol said. She smirked at Daryl. "I've been in plenty of fights, and few of them were over something as worthwhile as Poppy getting a turn on the dinosaur."
Daryl half smiled, but then the smile fell.
"Fights with him?" Daryl asked. Carol nodded her head. "I'm sorry about that shit."
"Don't be," Carol said. "Sorry doesn't do anything and, besides…it's done, now."
"That why you had a bad night?" Daryl asked. Carol's stomach twisted. It felt strange to have a conversation that felt so intimate with a man. She realized, of course, that it wasn't really that intimate.
She also realized that she'd been thinking of far more intimate things with Daryl and, given half the chance, she couldn't say that she wouldn't explore some of those thoughts.
"Any time he shows up in a dream is a bad night," Carol said.
"Happen a lot?" Daryl asked.
"More than I'd like."
"I had an asshole old man. Used to beat me and my brother just for the fun of it. I used to dream about him, too. Not so much anymore."
"I'm sorry," Carol said sincerely.
Daryl laughed quietly.
"Sorry don't change anything, right? But I appreciate it. In a way, he done me a favor. Taught me that I wanted to be a daddy someday. I wanted to…hell if I know…put some shit right in the world or something. Restore some kinda ridiculous celestial order."
"I'd certainly say you did," Carol offered.
Daryl looked at Poppy. Carol did, too. The little girl was happy. She was a genuinely happy child. She was playing by herself, contentedly, living out some fantasy that was running in her mind.
"This weren't how I imagined it happening," Daryl said. "You think—wife, kids, house, dog. Maybe not all of it, but you always think the whole family. Wife and kids. I didn't think it would just be me and Poppy. Alone. Still, that's how the hell it ended up. And we do alright alone, even if I'd rather it weren't always that way."
Daryl reached in his pocket and produced a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. He offered Carol a cigarette and she shook her head.
"Prob'ly better," Daryl said around the cigarette. "Damn things'll kill ya." He laughed at his own statement and exhaled the smoke.
"I smoke when I'm stressed out," Carol said. "I guess I associate accepting the cigarette with feeling overwhelmed. I smoked a lot when I lost Sophia. When I was first coming to terms with it."
"You ever really come to terms with it?" Daryl asked.
"No," Carol admitted. "But that's not what people want to hear. When they ask how you're doing, they don't want to hear that you feel like you've always got a huge, sucking hole in your heart. They want to hear that you're fine. That time heals all wounds. That it doesn't hurt anymore."
"That's bullshit," Daryl said. "Hell—shit hurts forever. Some of it. Like my sister-in-law says about some of her shit…the pain don't go away. We just make room for it."
Carol smiled at him.
"Maybe that's true," she said. "It doesn't go away. We just—make room for it in our lives. We build our lives around it, to some degree."
"Seems as reasonable as anything else," Daryl said. "Shit my old man did never went away. Not entirely. But—it just don't come up as much as it used to. And when it does? I just use it as a reminder of what the hell I'm never gonna be as a daddy."
"You're a very good daddy," Carol said.
"Stop," Daryl said, his face running red.
"I mean that," Carol said. "I sincerely mean that. Poppy is—a very lucky little girl. Besides—there aren't that many daddies in the world who would even consider taking on a whole playground full of soccer moms just to win their little girl a ride on the purple dinosaur." Daryl smiled to himself as much as he smiled at her. He shrugged his shoulders.
"She's my whole damn world," he said.
"I can tell," Carol said. "And—she knows that. There aren't too many children who are as well-adjusted as Poppy seems to be."
"It's always just been us," Daryl said. "I mean—we get help from family sometimes, but…I mean mostly."
"I understand," Carol said. "You're used to it just being the two of you."
Daryl looked at her. His eyes met hers. They held hers. She felt like she couldn't look away. Her pulse picked up and she felt her breathing pick up, as well. From just the look, it felt like systems all over her body were offering their input.
"It's always been that way," Daryl said. "But—that don't mean that…we wouldn't never want it to be no other way. You know?"
Carol's heart thundered hard. She did know. She felt like she heard everything he was saying—and everything he wasn't saying. He held her eyes. She felt something pass between them. Maybe it was even something like an understanding that was moving between them. The ball was in her court. He'd gone out on a limb and, maybe, it was the longest limb that he was willing to climb out on right now.
She had to make a decision, and she was equally terrified of the two decisions that lie before her for very different reasons.
She feared one decision because it meant putting herself back out there and, even though she didn't' believe that Daryl was at all like Ed, she'd promised herself that she wouldn't put herself back out there after escaping that marriage.
She feared the other decision because, in making it, she would be telling him, in no uncertain terms, that she wasn't willing to offer him what he was silently asking if she'd ever put on the table—a chance at something more for all of them.
Carol had to decide which she feared more, and she had to decide it quickly. Too much hesitation would be as much an answer as a hard "no".
"Daddy…" Poppy called. "Miss Carol. Look! Look at me! Daddy! Miss Carol!"
They both glanced at the little girl. She waved, happy to have their attention, from her perch behind a dramatically oversized boat wheel that was mounted up so that children could turn it like they were steering a ship. When she had their attention, she spun the wheel hard and squealed at the fact that she'd set the big wheel in spin.
Carol smiled and, when she glanced back at Daryl, he was smiling too—amused by his daughter's antics. Carol's heart nearly stopped for a second when her eyes met Daryl's again.
"Does—Poppy like movie nights?" Carol asked. "With—hot chocolate and pajamas?"
Daryl's face blushed slightly pink.
"You know, as a matter of fact, she does," Daryl said.
Carol's heart continued drumming, and her stomach continued feeling squirmy, but she could have almost sworn that her heart was beating out a much happier rhythm now than it had before.
"What do you say?" Carol asked. "A date?"
"A date," Daryl said. "But—I just gotta warn you…Poppy picked out my pajamas."
Carol laughed to herself, already imagining what might be revealed to her.
"I can't wait," she said.
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AN: I've been toying with the future of this collection. I'm considering hopping around, especially soon, once much of the basic background information has been established. What I mean by that is, if one "episode" led to another naturally, like this, I'd keep them together as much as possible, of course. However, I'm toying with the idea of otherwise just kind of posting "episodes" from this universe/family even if they might not be in order. It would mean that I could probably add to it a lot easier because I could simply write things that happened in the family, whenever they may happen, as the mood allowed, and I wouldn't get stuck trying to stick-to and plan the entire narrative in order. It would also mean that I could add cute little moments that might have been "skipped" if I planned the whole thing out and later wanted more time with certain events, but it would mean that things were out of order.
Originally, I made the collection not to really put them in order all the way through everything I wrote in the Poppy Universe, but rather to collect random one shots/short stories that all took place in the same universe and with the same family/characters. For that reason, I'm leaning toward the "out of order" way of doing things that would allow me to move forward and backward in time, in the same universe, as much as I might like.
I've not decided exactly what I'm going to do, but I did kind of want to put it out there to see what you might prefer. I'm not making any promises, though. I'm simply kind of polling as I think about things.
Thanks for your input. I do hope you enjoyed the chapter!