Sweet Georgia Belle:
Peaches and Cream
Chapter 5
[Something Given, Something Gained]

This must be a dream.

Though her body ached in every way possible, she felt as if she was in paradise. She woke up to clean, baby blue sheets on a large bed with the softest mattress imaginable. Tan colored wooden furniture adorned the room with soft white curtains billowing from the breeze of the open window.

She couldn't remember the last time she felt so relaxed… relaxed? Yes… this must be a dream. There was no way she would've let herself fall in such a deep sleep that she can't remember the place she woke up in. If this was a dream, she didn't want to wake up from it. She didn't want to live her reality, the world where she had to sell her body to survive. What would her daddy say now?

Her daddy wouldn't say anything, instead he would try his damned best to take her out of this situation. Like what Daryl did.

Wait… Daryl? Dixon.

Beth shot up on the bed into a seating position; all traces of tranquility drained from her body as she reoriented herself to reality.

She was free. Freed by ten thousand dollars… from one of her previous clients. If she remembered correctly, he said she held no obligation to him—that she was free to go. But… is that the right thing to do? If she was truly free now, she had nowhere to go… except to Karen's. Even then, there's a risk of Jeff finding her at Karen's apartment and end up hurting mother and son because of her. After yesterday, she didn't want to hurt them anymore than she already did.

She owed Karen and Bubba an apology… desperately. Beth spotted a cordless phone on the nightstand and picked it up to call her. Karen picked up immediately, as if she knew it was Beth who was calling.

"Are you okay, sugar? Where are you? Do you want me to come get you? How—"

"Karen! I'm okay… calm down!" Beth couldn't help but let out a small laugh at the expense of her dearest friend. "I'm okay… I'm fine."

"Okay, hon. Where are you? Are you with that man?"

"Mhm, I'm at his house."

"Oh god, Bethany Greene, don't tell me he's making you sleep with him! So help me God. Give me his address, I'm coming to get you!" Karen sounded none too happy.

"No, Karen. No… he didn't make me do anything. In fact, he's… nice. He offered me a job to work as his housekeeper until I can save enough money to get on my feet. It's so weird, Karen. He's helping me but I don't know why…"

"Are you sure he's not taking advantage of you?"

Beth laughed bitterly at the question, "Karen, I doubt someone like him wants to take advantage of a prostitute."

"Honey, don't say that. You had to do that to survive—it doesn't define you. I know you better than that. You're better than that. And if he isn't trying to sweep you under and sell you to someone, I think he might be genuinely trying to help you."

Beth's voice caught in her throat, tears welled up in her eyes. Karen always knew the right things to say to make her feel better, no matter the situation.

After a long moment's pause, Karen spoke up again.

"Take it, Beth. Take his offer. Become his housekeeper for a little while. Get some money, and get the hell out of this place. You deserve so much more… I would hate to see you back to square one."

"I don't know, Karen… I feel like I'm taking advantage of him," she wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. Sniffling, she continued, "Besides, I can't just take his money and go. It's not right."

"Well, save up the ten thousand dollars with whatever he pays you and then some. Pay him back and then, you'll be free to go… one hundred percent."

Beth nibbled on her bottom lip, contemplating on idea. It wasn't a bad idea at all. She would be able to give back all the money he used on her, she could potentially gain a reference for jobs, gain some extra money on the side. Besides… she had nothing at her apartment for her anyway. Except for her documents. Oh. That might be an issue.

"Beth?"

"Yeah, I'm here… I think you're right Karen. Maybe it would be a good idea to be his housekeeper for a little while. I don't have any of my documents on me though. They're all at my apartment. I better go back and get them."

"No way, sugar. I'll get them for you. Come by my house to pick them up. I don't want you going near that asshole ever again. I'll pick up some clothes for you too. Did you leave them in the same place you told me last time?"

"Yeah, in the bottom left draw of my dresser, they all should be there. Are you sure about getting them for me? Jeff might find you…"

"Don't worry about me hon. Will you be able to get here by noon?"

Beth glanced at the clock, 8:15 am. She would have more than enough time even if she walked all the way from here… wherever here is. "Yeah, I'll stop by at 11. Thank you so much Karen… for everything," she whispered, her voice cracking.

"I know, sug. I'm just glad you're getting a new lease on life. Stick to it honey. I know you can do it. Listen, I have to bring Bubba to daycare. I'll see you at my apartment at 11 o'clock, okay?"

"'Kay," they exchanged their goodbyes and hung up. Beth let out a long sigh, sitting still on the edge of the bed with her feet running through the soft fluffy carpet. Karen made perfect sense. It would be difficult to find a job with her minimal high school education in the job market these days.

Maybe it is fate that brought Daryl Dixon to her… as corny as it sounded; he is her savior, her hero. She would be stupid if she let this opportunity to go away. And when she did save enough money… she'll change her name and leave the country. Maybe. It may take a long time, but taking Daryl's offer will be the first step to a brand new life.

No more selling her body… no more pain… no more men. The thought made her heart skip a beat, excited. Yes. Never again will she let a man into her heart like she did for Jeff. It was for the best.

"Okay, Beth… you can do this," she closed her eyes and nodded her head, giving herself some motivation. She placed the phone back into its receiver and made the bed, folding the blankets and sheets with the upmost care.

He may have offered her a job, but he didn't say he was going to hire her for sure. She had to make an impression. She slipped into the hallway and into the bathroom to freshen up. She noticed a toothbrush in an unopened case, resting near the porcelain sink.

Beth tilted her head to the side; her hand pressed against the cool door frame, and wondered if he had set it there for her last night. A small smile graced her face at the thoughtful gesture.

'This guy is something else…'

-0-

Daryl woke up with a start, shocked by the light streaming into the room through the uncovered windows. Groaning, he grabbed his cellphone and checked the time. 9:15 am. "Shit!" he hissed, grabbing his shirt and pants off the bed. He has a meeting with an important client in forty-five minutes. He was going to miss it if he didn't hurry his ass up now.

He raced out of the second guest bedroom, across the hallway and into the master bedroom, in his boxers. "Shit!" he cursed again when he realized his state of dress as he stared at his reflection in front of the walk in closet. Beth was in the other room; he sure hoped she didn't see his hairy ass running around in a frenzy half naked.

Ugh. He wouldn't be able to live that down. She might even think he's a psycho.

Despite his sour mood, he wasted no time in putting on a fresh suit and tie. Going into the main hallway's bathroom, he began cleaning up his face and mouth. He noticed the wetness of the sink and saw that the unopened toothbrush he left on the counter last night was not there anymore.

Beth must've used it. The corner of his lips twitched at the thought and wondered what she thought of it. He had the hardest time sleeping last night as he ran through the day's events through his head. He had cursed when he forgot to tell her where the extra toothbrushes were, instead of waking her up; he opted to put one where she would be able to see it. He was glad she used it. It was a start. To what though?

Anyway, he made quick work of finishing up his routine and rounded the corner. He knocked on Beth's guestroom's door. No response. Knocking again harder, he called her name.

"Beth?"

Still no response. He jiggled the doorknob to make sure it wasn't locked and entered through the door. Within, not a thing was misplaced. The bed was made, everything was clean. She wasn't in there.

He closed the door to the guestroom, perplexed. Did she leave?

Daryl made his way down the stairs, the smell of breakfast washed over his senses, making his mouth water. On the formal dining table sat a cup of still warm coffee, sugar, cream, a glass of water and a plate of pancake and eggs.

Daryl whistled loudly, impressed. He couldn't remember the last time he had a home cooked meal, let alone a freshly made pancakes from scratch. From what he remembered, his pantry and fridge was basically empty. She must've found what was left of the flour and eggs.

He was running late, but damn he didn't want to waste her efforts, and besides, his stomach was growling in anticipation for food. Sitting into the chair, he tore into the pancakes and drank his coffee black.

"Beth?" He called after he cleaned his plate and wiped his mouth. Still, no one answered him.

He then proceeded to check the kitchen, the yard, bathroom… nothing. There was no trace of her, as if she was never here to begin with. Well, she had to have been. The plate of breakfast and her discarded old clothes was from her.

His cellphone rang, Merle. "Yeah, I'm on my way. Just stall for me. I'll be there." He hung up without waiting for his brother to answer. He was probably pretty pissed at him. He was never late. Ever. Today was just one of those odd days.

He had twenty minutes to get to his company and secure another contract. He had no time to waste. With a gruff sigh, Daryl stalked over to the front door. He noticed his shoes were set out for him… hers were missing.

She must've left, he thought. Damn. He really thought she was smart enough to accept his offer. Ten thousand dollars didn't mean a whole lot to him… money was just money. The thought of her selling her body again—it was something he didn't want to come across again.

His day started out pretty shitty. It got better with her breakfast and now… it was shit all over again. With a hiss, Daryl left his home and jumped into his car and raced to work.

-0-

Well shit, if he didn't have to go home and back a few things for his week-long business trip tomorrow morning, he wouldn't have even bothered.

Pulling into the driveway, he noticed something was certainly out of the ordinary.

His house lights were on. "What the fuck?" he hissed. His day was pretty foul; the last thing he wanted to deal with was burglars. He left his car door open as he exited the vehicle, and popped up the trunk to take out his hunting crossbow. He had left it there since his last hunting trip, never made the effort to take it out of his trunk.

With his crossbow armed and ready, he slithered through the front door, not making a sound. He never locked the front door, no one ever bothered to visit except for Merle. Besides, his security gate needed a passcode to open. His gate and fences were at least seven feet high—someone must've been desperate to get in if they scaled the shit.

He heard clanging and footsteps echoing from where his kitchen may be. Still cautious, with his back against the side of the wall where the kitchen was, he inched closer and closer.

The soft bang sounded, and then the footsteps got closer and closer. He aimed his crossbow directly at the doorway, ready to attack whoever dared to intrude on his house. He was really wanting to say, 'You fucked with the wrong person today.'

The person walked past him at first without knowing, then turned around and screamed.

"Oh God!" Beth. The large bowl in her hands slipped from her grasp and shattered noisily onto the floor, splattering the contents everywhere.

"Fuck! Beth?" He tossed aside his crossbow and prayed to god that the contents in the bowl wasn't piping hot. No such luck.

Beth cried out and fell backwards, onto the wooden floor, clutching her left foot in pain.

"Shit," Daryl raced into the kitchen, skipping over the liquid mess on the floor and grabbed the closest wet kitchen towel. He slipped his hands under her shoulders and pulled her away from the mess on the floor. "Are you okay?" He pressed the wet cloth against her foot.

"No! Not really!" She sassed, frowning at him disapprovingly. "What were you thinking bringing in a crossbow? Were you trying to hunt me or something?!"

"It was an accident! I thought you were some burglar trying to steal my shit! How the hell was I supposed to know it was you? I thought you were long gone this morning!" He scowled back at her, checking her foot to make sure she wasn't bleeding from the shards of the glass bowl.

"But you still shouldn't creep up on people like that! God, I thought you were some psychopath serial killer!"

"This is my house! I should be able to walk in here however the hell I want!" He hollered, his hands still tending to her foot. She had nothing to say then. Good, he thought.

Then she started to laugh.

He stared at her incredulously, she had an arm was propped up behind her, another pressed against her chest, her head tossed back as she laughed merrily.

Daryl had no idea why she was laughing but soon enough, he caught her contagious, tinkling laughter and he chuckled with her. The whole situation was absurd. He then realized his mistake, the entire house smelled like food. How the hell did he miss that fact?

Shit, burglars don't go to a person's home to cook. Upon that realization, he laughed harder at his own stupidity.

"Welcome… home?" he heard her say, their laughter dwindling down to smiles and chuckles.

He nodded in return and helped her onto her feet. "Can you walk?"

She smiled at him and giggled, "Yup. Just a light burn. It'll go away in a few minutes."

"Smells great in here," he nodded at the food on his dining table.

"Yeah, I wanted to surprise you… little did I know you were going to do the surprising," she laughed, stepping over the mess and into the kitchen.

Daryl felt his face redden in embarrassment. Shit. This was his house damnit! He'll never live this down.

"I'll clean this up and bring you a fresh bowl… I'm sorry I dropped it," she said in a sincere manner, folding her hands together rather nervously.

"Nah, I didn't know I even had it. I don't cook much," he started to clean up the mess. "I'll clean this up, go on and finish setting up the table."

"Yes sir," she responded, somewhat dutifully, all the mirth from seconds ago gone from her voice.

He froze in his spot on the floor. He didn't mean to sound like some dictator asshole, but he was unable to say anything else to her. She finished setting up the table just as he was done with cleaning.

"Dinner's ready," she said softly behind him.

"A'right, give me a sec," Daryl noticed she scurried out of the kitchen, as if afraid.

By the time he reached the dining table, he noticed that she had only set out enough utensils and plates for one person—him. She stood at the corner of the table, on the other end looking down at her feet and fidgeting her fingers against each other.

Daryl sighed, what happened to the laughing Beth he witnessed earlier? He rather liked the sound of her laugh—it sounded like tinkling bells and wind chimes. Besides, this shit wasn't going to fly with him. He wasn't going to eat alone while she slaved on the stove to cook him a meal, only to stand there while he ate his fill.

He turned around briskly and headed into the kitchen.

"D-did you need something?" she called out after him.

He didn't answer her and gathered extra bowls, plates and utensils with him. He ladled some soup into the bowl and returned the lid to the pot. He made sure he had everything before heading back into the dining room. Beth followed behind him, as quiet as a mouse.

He set the items down on the seat to the right of him, and then pulled out the chair.

"Sit." He nearly groaned at his choice of words. He honestly did not mean to order her around like some jackass. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to try to be a gentleman. "I mean uh… please have this seat?"

Beth frowned prettily at him. A part of him wondered what she would look like without bruises or makeup slathered over her face. Only time will tell, he supposed. Nonetheless, Beth sat on the chair as asked, and remained silent.

Daryl took his seat to the left of her and began digging into the food. My god. He would've groaned in sheer satisfaction at the taste of her food. If she wasn't sitting next to him, he would've—gladly too.

"Listen, Beth," he began after he noticed that she wasn't touching the plate he set down for her. "It would be much appreciated if you would eat with me… you cooked after all. I would feel like shit if I ate while you stood there… it won't fly by me."

She nodded in response, and then closed her eyes. She muttered a few words under her breath, followed by a very soft, "Amen."

Daryl stared at her, this was no ordinary girl. Despite all the shit she had gone through, she still blessed the Lord for her meal. It was something… weird… odd…. Something he hadn't done since his mama died.

Looking at her now, he saw a lot of his mama in her. Persevered through abuse, yet kept her faith in God until the moment she died. Maybe there was something unique about their situation… maybe she was sent to him by the man above to teach him a thing or two. Because the Lord knows, he has lived a blessed life so far.

He looked down at his plate then at Beth who was silently eating, and then a guilty sensation washed over him. Reaching over the table, Daryl grabbed her left hand with his right. "Would you like to say grace?"

He saw her eyes twinkle with surprise and delight. A part of him wanted to that light in her eyes to never fade away. Because she deserves to be happy, forever.

Holding her hand tighter in his, he closed his eyes and bowed his head. For the first time in over twenty years, he prepared himself to thank the Lord for his blessings. And this was all because of this woman named Beth.

/

J.R. – Something given, something gained! They are both broken in many ways… you'll see.

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