January 16, 2011
Carol leaned in the open doorway of their bedroom until Daryl looked up from the knife he was running across his black whetstone. She'd given up trying to persuade him not to sharpen things in bed. At least he'd learned to take his shoes off before sitting there. But his dirty socks were sole-down on the bedspread, his knees bent. "Dinner time?" he asked.
"Not quite yet." She slipped inside and shut the door. "We need to have another one of those parenting discussions."
"That pervy fucker call again?"
"No. But you need to stop lingering in the living room every time Sophia's on the CB with Patrick."
"Pfft. Don't linger. Just got shit to do."
"In the living room?" Carol asked skeptically.
"Want to make sure that asshole don't call again!"
"I know you do. And I appreciate you looking out for our daughter. But Sophia will tell us if he does. She'll come get one of us or whichever adult is nearby. She's not going to talk to him. She's been very mature about the code, and we need to trust her and give her a little space. She's growing up."
Daryl sighed. "Fine. I'll stop." His knife rasped across the stone. "Their conversation's borin' anyway."
Carol chuckled. "The other thing is I want to take Sophia on a supply run tomorrow. I know you're hunting, but Michonne will go with me for extra security. Glenn too. I just want her to see what it's like clearing a store. We'll keep her well covered."
Daryl blew on the edge of his knife and then lay it on the bed. "Guess she's got to learn some time." He reached over for his water bottle on the nightstand and poured a little on the stone. "Someplace relatively safe, though, yeah? Not too overrun." He set the bottle down and went back to his sharpening.
"I was thinking that town where Shane found the tavern."
Daryl's knife froze mid stroke. He looked up at her. "Where they had that run in with Dave and Tony and the other fucker?"
"Shane and Andrea killed all three of them and took their guns. If there are any left, we haven't seen word one from them. And Shane found no trace of them when they went back to loot the houses in that town. My guess is that gang has either moved on, or the Wolves got the rest of them before the Woodbury Army got the Wolves."
"Town's mostly looted. Hell you goin' there for?"
"Because I know it won't likely be overrun. Because I know there's no one living there, or wasn't, at least, last time Shane was there. But mainly because Shane brought back a town yellow pages when he went, and I see there's a little bridal boutique there. I want to take Sophia to get a dress. She was a little heartbroken that the gift store dress she wanted to wear for the wedding didn't fit. And I couldn't even tailor it to fit. And now she thinks she's fat."
"What? Ain't fat!"
"I know. It was a younger girl's dress and not meant to accommodate a budding one but try telling her that. She's at that age when she's comparing herself to unrealistic standards of beauty. It doesn't help that Beth and Maggie and Michonne are all unusually good-looking women. If she just had me to compare herself to, things might be different."
Daryl looked at her warily.
"I'm not fishing for compliments," she clarified.
"Ain't none of 'em as pretty as you."
"I wasn't fishing," she insisted. "I was just stating facts."
"I's just statin' facts, too."
Carol smiled. "Anyway, like I said, there will be three adults with Sophia. I want her to be able to try on dresses and make sure I can handle tailoring the one she picks. And…maybe I want a wedding dress, too. A fancy white one."
"Seriously?"
"It's just…I didn't have a wedding dress when I married Ed. We got married at the courthouse, before the JP, with his hunting buddy as a witness, in a rush, because I was pregnant. And I guess…I don't know. I want our wedding to be different."
"So you're goin' all the way to town and killin' walkers for a couple of dresses?"
"I'll pick up tailoring supplies, too. We'll be able to use them going forward. In fact, I was thinking of making some kind of studded leather sleeves for everyone's arms to use when scavenging. A sort of flexible armor to protect against bites. There's that King of the Rodeo shop. It has a lot of leather I could use."
"Ain't a bad idea." Daryl took his knife and tested its sharpness by running it through the hairs on his arm.
"And we can probably find a few other things while we're in town. I know it's mostly been cleared out, but…" Carol shrugged. "There's always something that got overlooked."
"A'right. But bring your AR-15 and the handgun and both knives and make sure Soph has her handgun and her wazawhatever and Michonne has a damn gun for a change! And not just the katana."
Carol nodded. "I appreciate that you trust me out there."
"Yeah, well…I wouldn't try to cross a mama bear myself."
January 17, 2011
The red oak acorns Daryl had collected in the late fall lay in a pile beneath the deer blind. He settled with his back against the wide trunk of the tree just as the sun was beginning to rise. Carol had been preparing for her supply run when he left.
Dixon climbed up the rope ladder and arranged the branches that obscured them a little better. The teenager then reached over and pulled up the ladder before sitting down shoulder to shoulder with his uncle on the narrow platform. Daisy was at home. Now that she was thoroughly pregnant, Dixon didn't take her hunting except in the small woods by the train tracks.
Dixon was going to start talking now, Daryl knew. This was how it went. He threw words at Daryl for the first fifteen minutes in the blind as if Daryl was some kind of sounding board. For a kid who'd lived alone for the first several months of the apocalypse, he sure seemed to like to talk. Maybe he'd been saving it up. Of course, Merle had been a talker, too.
Sometimes Dixon would ask about his father, and Daryl would go fishing in a well of fond memories, tiptoeing around the not-so-fond ones. Sometimes he'd talk about a book he read, and Daryl would think it sounded interesting, but not interesting enough to take the time to read himself. Sometimes he'd talk about the kids, Luke and Mika, and how they were growing like weeds and learning so much from their many teachers. Sometimes he'd talk about hunting or tracking or motorcycles or racing.
So, it was strange to Daryl when Dixon didn't say anything at all as they settled in to wait for a deer to come take the bait. Daryl fished out a cigarette and smoked in silence. He smoked all the way to the stub and then snuffed it out on the wood floor of the blind. He missed the initial chat more than he expected. And maybe he wanted a distraction from his nervousness about Sophia going on a run. "Cat got your tongue?" he asked finally.
"Beth won't even let me put a hand up her shirt," Dixon said as he laid his rifle sideways across his lap with the barrel pointed out of the blind. "I don't know if it's what happened back at the farm or what. But every time I try…I get the red light."
Daryl fished out another cigarette in silence, flicked open his sliver butane lighter with the DBD initials, and lit up. He clicked the lighter shut again and slipped it in his front shirt pocket, beneath his poncho – a brown and black one this time, because those colors blended better with the trees.
"Do you have any advice?" asked Dixon.
"'Bout how to get your girl to let you feel 'er up?" Daryl blew out a stream of smoke. "No."
"You make me sound so shallow. I'm worried about her. It's not normal, is it? At this stage? I mean…we've been dating and kissing for over a month now."
"Fuck's normal?" Daryl muttered around his cigarette. "You seen these dead people walkin' 'round? Think that's normal? Just is."
Dixon sighed. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He was quiet for a minute and then asked, "How do you make yourself stop thinking about it?"
"'Bout what?" Daryl asked.
"Sex."
"Just rub one out," Daryl muttered. "Ain't rocket science."
"I'm in the space room with T-Dog and Luke and Andre."
"'S what the shower's for."
"Ewww. We all share those two showers. And we only get five minutes. You're not rubbing it out in the shower are you?"
"No." Daryl smirked. "'Cause Carol lets me put my hand up 'er shirt." He didn't mention they'd showered together that one time when no one was in the house. "Listen. Good hunter's patient, kid. How many hours we spent sittin' up in this blind this past week, just waitin' for a deer?"
"A lot," Dixon conceded. "You're saying I need to make sure I'm careful and don't scare her away before she takes the bait?"
"Pffft. Wasn't takin' the analogy that far, no."
"Beth's a virgin. She doesn't believe in sex outside of marriage. I know that. She told me all that off the bat, and I respect that, I just thought…you know…I thought we'd do something. More than just kiss. You know? God, I sound like an asshole, don't I?"
"Sound like a seventeen-year-old boy," Daryl said.
Dixon smiled. He had dimple in his left cheek when he did. That was from his mother. "Well, maybe after she sees me in my tuxedo at your wedding."
Daryl took the cigarette out of his mouth and let it dangle between his fingers. "What tuxedo?"
"The one Carol's going to get on the supply run today to that bridal store in town. She's getting tuxedos for me and you and Glenn."
"Just gettin' dresses! For her and Soph and 'Chonne."
"And tuxedos for the three of us. Did you think they were all going to wear dresses and we were just going wear cargo pants?"
"I ain't wearin' no damn monkey suit."
"What did you think Carol was measuring you for yesterday after dinner?" Dixon asked in disbelief.
"Thought it was for that ghillie suit she said she was gonna make me! For huntin'!"
Dixon laughed.
"I ain't wearin' no damn monkey suit," Daryl muttered as he took another puff of his cigarette.
"Well, good luck to you when you tell her that."
"Ain't gonna need luck. I'm a man. I don't want to wear a monkey suit, I don't wear a damn monkey suit. Pretty damn simple."
"Uh-huh."
They fell quiet, and they waited patiently, but no deer came for the bait today. On the way back to Fun Kingdom, though, Dixon shot a crow with his rifle, which caused several more to scatter through the trees, and Daryl brought a second down with a bolt.
"I've ever actually eaten crow," Dixon said as they picked up their birds. "I mean, except metaphorically. Is it any good?"
"Dunno. S'posed to taste like wild duck, but less fatty. Guess we'll find out."
[*]
Carol returned from her supply run with tuxedos and dresses and dress shoes. They were all laid out on their bed right now, as she unpacked the days' loot, except her wedding dress, which Michonne had secreted away to her own closet, telling her, "It's bad luck for the groom to see the dress before the wedding."
Carol had also brought back needles, scissors, tape measures, buttons, threads, hooks and fasteners, elastic waistbands, thimbles, two pedal-operated sewing machines, and other tools.
"You gonna open a shop?" Daryl asked.
"Maybe."
She put one of the sewing machines on the writing desk and then announced she wanted to fill the drawers with sewing supplies, which meant he needed to clean all his junk out of that desk. "Are you working on a bottle cap collection, Pookie?" Carol asked him as she opened the top drawer.
"'S just where I empty my pockets at night 'cause you don't like shit on the desk."
"Have you ever considered the concept of emptying trash into the trash can? For instance…." She held up a white pack of Morley cigarettes from one of the drawers. "Are you holding onto this empty pack for sentimental reasons?"
"Yeah," he said. "'Member that first day we got here? And you came and sat next to me while Soph and Carl were playing on the playground, and you asked me for a smoke and you took one puff and you stubbed whole damn thing out? And I told you it was a waste of a cigarette?"
"Yeah…"
"That was the pack you took a puff from. Our first smoke together. Was holdin' onto it all this time, 'cause I must have been half in love with you even then."
"Awww, Pookie, I – " Her face grew suddenly stern because he was smirking. Then his laugh burst out like a snort.
He hadn't held onto that pack. This was just some random empty pack. One of three empty packs tossed in this drawer as a matter of fact. She balled up the empty pack and threw it at his chest.
He caught the crumpled mass, still laughing.
"Go get a trash bag," she told him.
He did, and as they were cleaning out the desk, he asked, "How'd Soph do?"
"Good. There was only one walker in the store. We let her kill it. She did a good job with that sword. She had to thrust up. It was taller than her. We also looted a little day care. I made Sophia stay back with me while Glenn and Michonne cleared that out." She sighed. "Too many kid walkers. We got some more diapers for Eileen and Lori or whoever needs them one day. Formula. And we looted a bail bondsman's office because I thought it might have a weapon. It did. A 9 mm handgun and three boxes of ammunition."
"Good thinkin', Miss Murphy."
"Plus a pair of handcuffs, if you want to fool around later."
"Stahp."
"He also had a bottle of whiskey in his bottom drawer and a box of condoms. I offered them to Glenn, since we've still got two boxes and some time on the pill, but he said they're letting nature take its course. They're not trying, but they're not not trying either."
"Seriously?" Daryl asked.
"Apparently. Since Eileen had that baby safely, Maggie feels like it might be okay to toss the dice."
"Huh."
They continued cleaning. Once the trash bag was half full and the few things he actually wished to keep had been transferred to his nightstand drawers, he cinched the bag and nodded to the tuxedos on the bed. "You know I ain't wearin' a tux, right?"
"You don't have to," she said as she picked one up and hung in the closet. "It's your wedding, too." She hung a second tux. "But I got you one just in case you change your mind." She picked up the jacket of the third tux and held it up to him now. "I'd bet you'd look very handsome, and it's only an hour."
"Ain't happenin'."
"But if it did happen…" she said, "…afterward, I would get to loosen your bowtie and unbuckle your belt and then leave you mostly dressed while I had my wicked way with you."
"Pfft."
Carol hung his tux and then began hanging the bridesmaids dresses she would be tailoring later in the closet. "I know it's silly," she told him. "Especially in an apocalypse. It's just Ed treated our wedding like a box to be checked. I married him because I was pregnant with Sophia. And now we're getting married for Sophia, too, but not just for Sophia. We're getting married because we're right together. Because we've been through thick and thin together, and we've helped heal each other." She slid the last dress onto the rod. "And I guess I just want this wedding to be a symbol of how big all that is. I don't want it to be some box that has to be checked."
She let her hand fall from the closet rod. When she turned, he was behind her. He put a hand on her back, swept her close, and kissed her. "A'right," he murmured when he pulled away, his voice husky. "I'll wear your stupid monkey suit. Even leave it mostly on for you later. But only if you leave your high heels on."
She smiled. "Sorry, Pookie. I got flats. But…." She ran hand over the lapel of his shirt and tugged on it slightly. "You should see the sexy corset and panties I got to go underneath the dress. And the garter belts. You can take those off me. Or leave them on. As you choose."
Daryl let out an excited laugh. "Yeah? Where are they?"
"You'll see. On our wedding night."
"'S two months away still."
She kissed his cheek. "Patience, Pookie."