March 20, 2011
"I can't believe I'm the only man who knows how to tie a bowtie," Rick said as he tied Daryl's. "The best man's supposed to be doing this."
"Sorry," Dixon muttered. "I didn't attend a lot of black tie affairs growing up in the mountains of North Carolina."
The bridesmaids and bride were still at the House of the Future, getting ready, but the groomsmen were in the chapel, as was Hershel, who was reviewing his notes where he sat in one of the pews. Someone, Daryl didn't know who, had decorate the church with March wildflowers.
"Glenn, didin't you at least go to your high school prom?" Rick asked as he moved down the row of men and began tying Glenn's bowtie.
Glenn sneezed, and Rick stepped back. "Sorry," Glenn muttered. "Pollen."
"Better not sneeze in the middle of the ceremony," Daryl warned him.
Glenn pulled out the pocket watch Hershel had given him when he asked for Maggie's hand in marriage. "Almost two," he said. "You ready for this?"
[*]
Daryl stood nervously at the altar of the tiny chapel to the side of the podium on which Hershel had lain his Bible. Maggie sat alone in the first row of pews to the right. T-Dog sat with his arm around Patricia in the first pew to the left. Behind them sat Rick, Lori, and Carl to the left, and then Andrea to the right.
Lori had decided to make the trek, despite being five weeks from giving birth. She loved weddings, she'd told Rick, and Dr. Steven's had given her a clean bill of health. Besides, the roads between Woodbury and Fun Kingdom were fairly well cleared by now.
At the back of the church, Beth stood and began playing the wedding march on guitar. Daryl looked toward the open back door of the chapel as Dixon and Sophia began marching in, Sophia with her arm laced proudly through Dixon's and her rose-colored dress almost touching the floor. His little girl looked happy and pretty. Dixon fell in place behind him at the altar, and Sophia took her place opposite him, leaving room for his bride. Next, Glenn ushered Michonne down the aisle, and groomsman and bridesmaid fell into place.
Mika and Andre skipped down the aisle, scattering rose petals. Andre ran all the way up to Michonne with his little basket and hugged her side. She waved him over to Maggie, who plucked him up to bring him back to the pew with her.
Luke followed bearing Carol's ring on a white lacy pillow, which he handed off to Glenn before running to sit with Andrea in the pew. He grinned up at her and Andrea ruffled his hair. The young man had developed quite the crush after Andrea had spent an hour in the early afternoon building a Lego castle with him.
Then Carol came in.
Daryl swallowed. The flowing white dress - simplet yet elegant - accentuated every womanly feature of her body. He rocked back on his heels, and Dixon put a hand on his shoulder to push him down in place. Dixon squeezed Daryl's shoulder once, chuckled, and let his hand fall back to his side.
Daryl swallowed hard as Carol took her place across from him. Sophia, standing on tip toes, pulled back Carol's veil to reveal her face. She looked a little nervous herself. Or maybe just excited.
"Dearly beloved," Hershel began, "we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony."
Daryl didn't hear the words that followed. He forgot he was in a ridiculous monkey suit and that it felt like the collar was choking him. Carol smiled at him, and all he could see was her.
"Amen." Hershel said.
Were they done with the prayer part already?
"And now a scripture reading from Ruth," Hershel intoned. "The bride and groom will echo in union after me: Don't urge me to leave you or to turn back from you."
"Don't urge me to leave you or to turn back from you," Daryl and Carol said together.
"Where you go, I will go."
"Where you go, I will go," the couple vowed together.
"And where you stay, I will stay."
"And where you stay, I will stay," they echoed.
"Your people will be my people," Hershel intoned.
Carol glanced out at the people in the pews and smiled. "Your people will be my people," she said with Daryl.
"And your God, my God."
"And your God, my God."
Daryl tuned out again when Hershel began his homily about love and marriage and compromise and ups and downs or whatever he was prattling on about. His eyes swept over Carol, and her soft smile made him rock back on his heels a second time. Dixon once again pushed him down into place.
He didn't notice when Hershel began the vows or when he concluded "as long as you both shall live?" Carol looked suddenly uncomfortable, and Hershel said, a little sternly, "Will you?"
"I will!" Daryl practically shouted. "I will," he said more quietly. "I do."
Carol smiled again.
"And Carol, will you have this man to be your lawful wedded husband? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and health, forsaking all others, as long as you both shall live?"
"I will."
"And now for the rings," Hershel said. Dixon extended the ring toward Daryl, but he was still fixated on Carol, so Dixon slapped the ring against his shoulder twice. Daryl took it.
"Daryl, please repeat after me," Hershel said.
Daryl repeated each line as it was spoken: "I Daryl, take thee, Carol, to be my wedded wife…to have and to hold from this day forward…for better, for worse…for richer, for poorer…in sickness and health…to love, honor, and cherish…all the days of my life…I give you this ring as a symbol of my pledge." Daryl took Carol's hand and slid the wooden wedding band onto her finger. Even in the cool early spring in the unheated chapel, her hand felt warm to his touch.
"Carol, please repeat after me. I Carol, take thee Daryl…"
Carol repeated line by line the vows Hershel spoke, and then, when she said, "I give you this ring as a symbol of my pledge," she ran the tip of her finger gently around his tattoo.
"Those whom God hath joined together," Hershel declared, "Let no man put asunder. I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride."
T-Dog whooped as Daryl leaned in to kiss Carol and others in the pew clapped while Dixon put two fingers in his mouth and whistled.
"It's not a fuckin' ball game," Daryl muttered when he pulled away from her lips.
"I now present to you," Hershel said, "Mr. and Mrs. Dixon!"
When Carol was out the door of the chapel, she tossed her bouquet. This time, Patricia caught it, and then she raised an eyebrow at T-Dog, who spread his arms wide, palms up, with a shrug.
[*]
When they were finally alone behind the closed door of their bedroom, Carol couldn't keep her hands off of Daryl. He just looked so damn good in that tux. Her lips were on his immediately, and then her hands. She tugged at his black bow tie until it was resting loose around his collar and then undid just the top button of his white dress shirt. "Leave it like that," she demanded as she began frantically unbuttoning his belt.
"Slow down," he murmured, his voice husky. "Need to get you out that dress."
She turned around so he could unzip the back. His hands were shaky when he unfasted the hook at the top, and that just made her more excited. It was torture the way he ever so slowly pulled the zipper down to her waist and then slid the dress off her left shoulder to kiss a bare spot just at the base of her neck.
She turned around and quickly stepped out of the puddle of white fabric, now in nothing but her corset, garter belts, half stockings, and panties. His eyes raked over her. "Damn," he growled. "Damn, woman." And then he was the one backing her to the bed, unbuttoning the top button of his black dress pants, and jerking down his zipper.
[*]
They both lay on their backs panting. Daryl was still in his tuxedo, though the pants were at his knees. The corset still clung to Carol, though her garter belts had been unfastened and lay dangling and her panties pushed to one side. Daryl hadn't even taken them all the way off.
"Goddamn," Daryl muttered. "Goddamn, Mrs. Dixon."
Carol laughed happily.
[*]
The second time, hours later and after dinner, when the sun had set and they were under the covers, was slower and more tender. They fell asleep soon afterward, content and safe and utterly naked in one another's arms, the hope of a long future extending before them.
Maybe it was too much happiness for one man, Daryl would think later. Too much happiness for a world like this. Far more happiness than a man like him deserved. Because the sweet peace they drifted into that night was shattered an hour later by Hershel's fist pounding on the door.
"Carol!" Hershel cried. "I need your help! I need you to assist! Lori's having the babies!"
[*]
Lori lay on the bed in Glenn and Maggie's room crying at the sharp pain of each contraction while Carol brought in hot water and towels. Rick sat in the chair from the vanity, which he'd drawn up beside her bed, and held Lori's hand as she squeezed his with each contraction.
Hershel had sanitized and lain out the scalpel and other surgical tools across the dresser, in case an emergency C-section was needed. Carol wished now she had practiced more, but Lori was supposed to have had the babies in Woodbury.
"What if she needs a C-section?" Rick asked frantically. "Dr. Stevens isn't here. Dr. S. Bob – no one here is a doctor or a medic!"
"I've probably performed more C-sections than a general practitioner," Hershel assured him in a calming voice. "I've performed two on immature heifers. Sometime they get pregnant too young if the farmers aren't careful about keeping the yearling bulls away."
Carol was relieved to know she wouldn't be the one behind the scalpel. She'd certainly be assisting if it came to that, however.
For now, though, they were urging Lori to go the safer route of vaginal birth, as long as she seemed to be making progress, and she was. Her water had broken and the contractions were already four minutes apart. "Breathe…" Carol told her. "Just breathe…."
It wasn't Carol's first home birth exactly. She'd ended up giving birth to Sophia bent over the kitchen sink because Ed hadn't believed her when she woke him up to say that the baby was coming. He'd told her to "stop her winning" and go back to sleep. Then he'd promptly rolled over and gone back to sleep himself.
Not wanting to anger him, Carol had gone to pace in the kitchen and tried to wait until the contractions were closer together to wake him again, but then Sophia was coming…suddenly…and then her little girl was there, on the kitchen floor. When she woke Ed to take them both to the hospital, he was angry she hadn't woken him sooner.
[*]
The youngest children – Andre, Luke, and Mika – were sleeping hard. Mika had woken up but gone back to sleep. Andre and Luke, despite being next door to the birth room, had never stirred or emerged. It had been an afternoon and evening of hard play.
Everyone else, however, was huddled in the living room, anxious about what was happening upstairs.
"It'll be all right," Sophia re-assured Carl, who was sitting on the bottom of the ramp and looked up at the balcony every time he heard a cry. "Your mom will be fine. Look!" She gestured to the rug where the puppies lay snuggled, two in one dog Fun Kingdom dog bed and two in another. "Hershel delivered all the puppies and they were all healthy!"
"They weren't so early though," Carl said nervously.
"Five weeks isn't that early," Beth assured him gently as she sat down beside him and wrapped an arm around him. "That's near-term. Not even technically premature."
"Gonna go get more towels from one of the shops," said Daryl, clicking on a flashlight, because it was almost eleven o'clock now.
"We have plenty of towels," Maggie assured him.
"Gonna go get more. Just in case." He couldn't stand to stand around, listening to a woman scream. He couldn't stand not to be doing something, anything.
"I'll go with you!" Glenn leapt up from the couch and followed him out the door.
[*]
"It's time to push," Hershel told Lori.
Lori was gripping Rick's hand so tightly it was turning blue. "I am pushing!" she yelled. "I've been pushing. Argggggg!"
"Give us another one," Hershel told her.
It was only three more hard pushes before the baby crowned, and soon it was out, and its cry pierced the air, causing four sighs of relief to fill the room. Carol wiped the tiny girl down. She placed her on the meat scale she'd brought to the room, and the little tyke weight in at only five pounds, once ounce. But her lungs were clearly in good working order. Rick proudly cut the umbilical cord with a pair of scissors. Then Carol wrapped her up in a blanket.
Carol placed the newborn baby girl on Lori's breast. Lori tucked one arm under her and smiled gratefully but wearily at the tiny creature. "Hello, Judith. Hi, baby girl," she cooed.
"She's so beautiful," said Rick, laying a hand on the tiny head as it rooted instinctively for Lori's breast.
"Push," Carol told Lori. "Keep pushing."
Lori did, but nothing was happening. The baby nursed as she labored, and, eventually, Rick took the baby from her breast and cradled it in the crook of his arm, admiring his beautiful, baby girl.
Carol popped out on the balcony to holler down, "The first one's out! A baby girl. Five pounds, one ounce. She's doing well!"
There were sighs of relief and clapping from the peanut gallery below.
"We've got more towels if you need them!" Glenn called up, pointing to a stack on the coffee table.
"We're fine for now."
She heard Daryl say from below, "Gonna go get some more bed sheets" and the front door open and close.
When Carol went back into the room, Hershel was listening to Lori's stomach with a stethoscope.
"Is something wrong?" Rick asked anxiously.
"I just don't have an ultrasound," Hershel told him. He'd lost his one for the cows in the fire. "And she's been pushing a while. I just want to make sure everything's fine with the other little one."
"Dr. Stevens told us there could be anywhere from one minute to an hour between twins being born," Rick told him.
Lori moaned, and he looked anxiously at her.
"Yes, that's true," Hershel replied.
It was true, but Carol knew the average between twins was less than fifteen minutes. It had been thirty now.
Hershel kept moving that stethoscope around and listening intently. The silver metal went from spot to spot to spot across Lori's bare stomach, and his face grew more and more concerned.
"You can't hear it?" Lori asked anxiously.
Rick, who was cooing at the baby Judith in his arms, stopped and looked at Hershel.
"We're going to have to do the C-section after all," Hershel said. "To get it out. I'll cut along your old scars."
"But he's alive?" Lori asked. "He's alive isn't he?"
Hershel didn't answer.
"He's alive, isn't he?" Rick echoed, more loudly than his wife.
Hershel stood from his crouched position over Lori. "The important thing right now is to tend to your wife's safety. Now we're going – "
Lori suddenly cried out with mixed surprise and excitement and put a hand on her stomach. "He's fine! I just felt him move!"
Rick laughed with relief, but then Lori's face went a sudden, deathly white.
"What's wrong?" Rick asked.
Lori's eyes widened in horror, and then she arched her back and screamed, "Get it out! Get it out!"
Carol looked at her bare stomach, which was rippling with wild, violent movements, almost as if the baby was trying to claw its way out.
"It hurts! It hurts! Oh God! Get it out!" Lori screamed.
With a slow-dawning horror, Carol realized what was happening. The baby had died. Sometime while they were delivering Judith, or maybe even hours before that, the baby had died in Lori's womb. It had died, and just now it had turned, and toothless though it might be, it was trying to consume Lori from the inside out.