AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

Things have been crazy lately. I've moved a couple of times, changed jobs, and been doing some training. I'm hoping things are calming down now and I can start to build a routine again. I'm a little out of practice writing, but I'm trying to get back in the swing of things there, too. Thanks for bearing with me!

I hope you enjoy the chapter! Let me know what you think!

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"Carol, I think I can say this without offending my bride. Your strawberry cake remains the best I've ever had," Hershel Greene said. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and returned the napkin to the table before he picked up his coffee cup and drank half its contents in long swallows. The cup barely had time to touch down on the table once more before Josephine picked up the coffee pot and refilled the mug for him.

"It was really Sophia that made the cake," Carol said.

"Then she got her baking skills from her mother," Hershel said. "Sophia—you've outdone yourself. Half a dozen of the ladies at church would give up their darkest family secrets to be able to make a cake that tastes that good."

Sophia beamed and her cheeks burned red.

"It was Mama that helped me make it," she offered.

"Nonsense," Carol said. She stood up from her seat enough to reach the cake knife and she waved her hand toward Hershel to request his plate.

"You'll have another piece," she insisted.

"I couldn't," Hershel responded.

Carol waved her fingers at him, not allowing him to refuse the cake that he clearly wanted.

"One more piece," Carol insisted.

"I'll eat the whole thing if you don't," Daryl said. "And that won't be good for none of us. Have another piece a' cake."

It took very little convincing before Hershel passed over his plate and Carol served him another slice of cake. Without asking him if he wanted it, Carol took Daryl's plate and placed another slice there for him. He offered her a smile, a slight nod of the head, and a wink—all three constituting a thank you that Carol valued more than the two words.

She settled back in her seat with a sigh and sipped her own coffee.

Jack and June were asleep. They'd come in half asleep from the Greene's house and Josephine had helped Carol get them tucked in while Daryl and Hershel had shared cigars on the porch swing. Now they were all enjoying cake and coffee with Sophia. The evening had turned out peaceful after all, despite her brother-in-law's best efforts to make it less so.

"I believe I can also say—now and without feeling as though I'm only doing it from some sort of obligation—that I owe you a congratulations," Hershel said after he'd taken a few bites of his second piece of cake.

"Oh yes!" Josephine echoed. "Congratulations. Though I've told you before."

"And took it back," Daryl said.

"Daryl..." Carol said quietly.

"It ain't no untruth," Daryl said. "She give it an' she took it away. Just like that."

Rather than be offended, Josephine laughed to herself.

"I hardly took away my congratulations," she said. "But—I suppose that I can see how you might have taken it that way. Call me old fashioned, but I was raised that you didn't announce that you were expecting too soon. It's bad luck."

"That's an old wives' tale," Hershel offered.

"And I'm an old wife," Josephine responded.

"It doesn't matter," Carol said. "What matters is that the two of you came to celebrate with us. That's all that matters."

"And we're ready to tell everyone," Daryl said. "Gonna start tellin' anybody that listens tomorrow, even if we gotta come up with a reason to go into town to do it. But—we'd appreciate it if you'd hold off sharin' our good news a couple days so we can get the chance to tell it out first. 'Fore it comes back to us an' all."

"We wouldn't dream of stealing your thunder," Hershel remarked. He polished off the piece of cake that he was eating and Carol gestured toward the cake once more to see if he might want another piece. He shook his head at her and she believed him this time—or rather she believed Josephine's expression that said that Hershel was finished. Hershel, for his part, might have continued to eat the cake for the rest of the night.

"We really do wish you the best," Josephine said. "Sophia...June...Jack...they're all so lovely. Why I've told Hershel before that if the rest of the kids around here were even half as polite and well-behaved...well...I don't even know." She laughed to herself. "But they're not. You two know how to raise 'em right. You raise your children well. And that's something to be proud of. No doubt that's why you've been blessed with so many—and I hope there's so many more to come."

Carol couldn't help but smile at the praise that the old woman heaped on her. It burned pleasantly warm in her belly to hear the approval of her parenting skills from Josephine Greene.

Many of the thoughts that Carol had surrounding motherhood were that she was always a less-than-wonderful mother. She loved her children dearly, and she loved them with every fiber of her being, but she was far from perfect. There were times that she was tired and short. She gave them less attention than she was sure they needed and she felt like she'd failed Sophia on so many levels that she often told herself that it was no wonder that God had never seen fit to let her bear another. She always hated that Daryl was punished, though, as a result of her actions and her shortcomings. When she was feeling particularly negative, Carol wondered why the county made the mistakes it made in granting her the right to mother Jack and June. Sometimes she imagined an officer coming to her door to take them away—Sophia as well, even though she was a legal adult now and couldn't be taken by the court—because they realized that a grave mistake had been made and that Carol had never been a proper choice for a mother.

But the warm feeling in her belly right now didn't allow for those kinds of feelings to even find a way to temporarily push themselves into her mind.

She was a good mother. Her children were good children. She raised them right. Daryl was an excellent father, but she was a good mother, too. She helped Sophia bake strawberry cakes and she made her dresses and clothes that everyone in town talked about. Sophia was doing well at college and June was smart—smarter than most any child her age. Jack was still a baby, but he was bound to be clever, and he was such a sweet little boy.

And God had finally seen fit to grant Carol the child she'd prayed for. She was finally ready.

She was certain that her loyalties were going to come into question more than once—Merle Dixon wasn't going to be the only person who accused her of making a fool of Daryl—but it didn't matter. She knew the truth. Daryl knew the truth.

And no matter what lies anybody said about her, their family was still growing.

"We've said we'll take as many as God sees fit to grant us," Carol said. "But—for the moment I'm focusing my attention on what we have. Sophia doesn't really need us anymore but..." Carol smiled at Sophia when she reached over and hugged Carol sideways, pulling her into her. It was true. Sophia was grown and she didn't need them, but she still enjoyed them and they enjoyed her. Carol would mother her for as long as she allowed. "But we're focusing on June and Jack. Taking care of them. And this little one. Helping it grow. We want to do everything right. I want to do everything just as I should to give it the best chance starting out."

"And you will," Josephine assured her. "I can help you. I've done it myself four times. I can tell you how to care for yourself better than most of these doctors around here can."

"And I—well...I can tell you whatever you might need to know, son," Hershel said, catching Daryl's attention. "But the main thing I can tell you is that it's best to learn when woman's talk doesn't involve you. What do you say we take what's left of this coffee and use it to wash down a pipe or two? It's a nice evening."

Daryl didn't need much convincing and Carol nodded at him when he glanced in her direction. He would enjoy himself better on the porch and "woman's talk," as Hershel Greene put it, was always more enjoyable when there wasn't an audience around to judge what was being said.

"Miss Josephine—let me make us a fresh pot of coffee," Carol said. "There are some things I'd like to ask your advice on."

And just like that, Daryl took his leave with Hershel, accepting Carol's unspoken excusal from the table.

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"It wouldn't hurt so bad except he's my brother, you know? It's like—somethin' that's had me down on my knees prayin' more times than I wanna admit. That somethin' is finally goin' my way. My wife's carrying my kid. Her doctor says she's the healthiest woman he's seein' right now. I mean—I'm not a man that gets giddy or anything like that, but I was damn near wishin' I knew how to click my heels together like..." Daryl stopped speaking and laughed at his own words. He shook his head. "Man—I don't know. Click my heels together like Bing Crosby or something like that. I just wasn't prepared for him to come here and say that to me when I wanted him to be happy. Wanted everyone to be happy. Just—you know. Just for a little while."

Hershel Greene hummed at Daryl from around the pipe that he was smoking. Daryl preferred cigarettes, but he enjoyed a pipe from time to time. A good cigar wasn't anything he'd turn his nose up at either. Daryl smoked his cigarettes while Hershel smoked his pipe, but it was really the company that they were both enjoying the most.

And Daryl wanted Carol to have a little time inside with Josephine Greene. He had no idea what they were talking about exactly, but they were talking about babies and they were doing it in the best way possible. Daryl wanted Carol to have the opportunity to soak all of that up that she could possibly get.

"He didn't have a right to say that to you," Hershel mused. "But—people have a tendency to say a good number of things about which they have no business talking."

"At least you two was willin' to come for cake and coffee," Daryl said. "Savin' graces if you ask me. Give some good to this night. At least—at least we know somebody's wishin' us luck."

Hershel laughed quietly. He rocked the swing they were sharing with his foot.

"When you first married Carol, I have to admit—I questioned your motives. I questioned everything about your relationship. It was only natural—given the circumstances."

"Everybody questioned everything about me," Daryl said. "Figured I was a son-of-a-bitch. Taking advantage of her. Truth is—maybe I did take advantage. I don't know. I didn't think I was takin' advantage, but sometimes we give ourselves a pass that we wouldn't see clear to give to someone else."

"I don't think you took advantage," Hershel said. "Not now. Of course, I wasn't witness to every aspect of your relationship. When you first brought home Sophia—I thought that it might be the worst idea ever. I thought that maybe Carol couldn't handle it. Maybe it was just a selfish move on your part. Some effort to make yourself a father without considering the repercussions that it might have."

"You weren't alone," Daryl said.

"I wasn't," Hershel confirmed. "But it turned out to be a beautiful thing. Good for the both of 'em. And then you brought home June—and I thought...for sure it was just torture to give Carol another child and to remind her that you had none born to you when everyone knew she wanted it so badly. I thought it would be salt into her wounds, so to speak."

"Just more selfish bullshit from me," Daryl said.

"The point is that I was wrong," Hershel said. "Every time—whether I gave voice to what I was thinking or not—I was wrong. I judged. Just as we're told not to do. I judged."

"Don't everybody?"

"And I was wrong," Hershel said. "You and Carol—you're as perfect a married couple as any I've ever seen. You could speak to the newlyweds at the church if you wanted to. Tell them the secrets they come seeking about how to be married—how to make a marriage work. If there are any secrets, it's the two of you that have figured them out. Your children? Well—I love my grandchildren as much as any Papa should, but if only they were as well behaved as your little ones we could keep them more often. And this baby? It's a real blessing. An absolute miracle. You couldn't convince me otherwise. Hand-chosen by God for the two of you. To bless this household. This family."

Daryl laughed to himself. His stomach knotted up a little.

"But I'm sensing a 'but' in there," Daryl said.

"But—your brother may not be the only one who looks at your marriage and...well...maybe they feel just a little jealous about the fact that it's better than their own. Maybe they feel a little insecure. It could be a case of a splinter in your brother's eye and such. They feel the need to say something."

"It don't matter what they say," Daryl said.

"That's precisely my point," Hershel said. "Because whatever they say, they'll be wrong. Just remember that. And—if you can see a way clear to forgive me for the things that I've thought through the years, then maybe you can see a way to forgive them. And your brother."

"He can't even say he's sorry," Daryl pointed out.

"Some men find those two words to be the hardest ones to pronounce," Hershel said. He hummed to himself. "They're right up there with declarations of love. They come out sounding like just about anything else. Maybe even...sometimes...they come out sounding like someone saying they don't want a family member to be treated poorly or taken advantage of."

"You takin' his side?" Daryl asked.

Hershel laughed to himself.

"Not hardly," Hershel said. "I'm taking the side of peace and of family. That's what we're here to celebrate, isn't it? Family?"

"But Carol didn't make a fool of me," Daryl said. "And she didn't treat me poorly or take advantage of me."

"Oh—I have no doubt about that," Hershel agreed. "I've been wrong a great deal about what goes on in this household, but I know that's not something I'm wrong about."