The reviews have been awesome!
Thank you for all the support, kind words, and follows. You guys are the best!
Also, just wanted to let you guys know that I chose the Greene's religious affiliation as church of Christ because that's what I am and it's really common in the South (I'm in the buckle of the Bible Belt). I didn't want to offend anyone who may be of the Baptist, Methodist, Episcopalian, or any other denomination, so I figured I'd go with what I know. If you have any questions, just message me (but please be kind). Thanks! And again, thanks for ALL of the support! Every review is read and treasured!
-Mandy
Chapter Ten:
Beth couldn't recall Daryl driving her to her apartment. She also couldn't recall the bag she'd packed, or grabbing Jake and his food and water bowls. She couldn't recall Daryl helping her back out to the car, or the nearly hour long drive down to East Griffin where her family's farm was. She couldn't recall anything, really.
All she could think about were Maggie's words. How could her mother be gone? She had just talked to her the day before, and she was fine. All she could do was replay the conversation with Maggie, "She had an aneurysm." Annette was the reason Beth had survived after Lori's death. Annette taught Beth how to cook, how to sew and knit, how to play piano, how to read, and tie her shoes.
Beth couldn't fathom how her mother could simply be gone. She couldn't imagine a world without Annette Greene in it.
Daryl didn't say anything to Beth, except to ask for simple directions. When he turned on to the long gravel road that led to the Greene driveway, Beth could feel her throat closing up. She felt her heart beating rapidly in her ears. Evidently, Hershel and the rest of the family heard it as well, and headed out to meet her. Daryl quickly got out of the truck, opening the passenger door and helping Beth out. Maggie and Shawn ran toward her, both hugging her tightly as they sobbed.
"Bethy, we're so sorry." Maggie cried, her eyes swollen.
"I'm sorry I didn't answer." Beth cried, her small body racked with sobs.
"I—I was comin' home with Sadie, finalizin' the weddin' plans. I didn't hear anythin', Dad was gone, out tendin' to Duncan Fisher's dog—he'd been hit by a car. I came home an' Mama didn't answer. Then I found 'er, right in the kitchen." Shawn said, sobbing.
Beth continued to sob as Hershel came closer. His eyes, too, were red and swollen as he approached the three siblings. Carl, too, was there, Annette being the only grandmother he'd ever known. Beth wrapped him in a hug, holding him tightly as he sobbed. Rick, Glenn, and Sadie were all teary eyed, all having been impacted by Annette. She'd accepted them instantly, without question, loving them just as she did her own children. Annette was a gem, a saint of a woman, really, with a temper to boot. Beth took after her mother the most, with a temper worse than Maggie, Shawn, and Lori put together when she was tested. And now, the woman who took care of all of them was gone.
"Bethy, I'm so sorry we couldn't tell you sooner." Hershel whispered, his voice broken and ragged.
"Daddy, it's okay, really." Beth said, hugging him tightly, "I'm so sorry. I am."
"I am too, Bethy, Your mother was my best friend for thirty-five years. I've never met another woman like her, and I know I never will. I just wish it didn't have to happen this way. That's the thing about death, you're—you're just never ready for it." Hershel said, crying softly.
"Let's go inside—it's chilly out here. I'll make some coffee." Maggie said, grabbing Beth's hand in hers as they walked inside. Beth hadn't been home in nearly a month, only being able to call home because of the business of work. The old farm house still smelled of Annette; the scent of vanilla mixing with fresh, clean laundry detergent. It comforted Beth just a little, to smell the familiarity of her childhood. She noticed Daryl trailing just a few steps behind her, talking with Rick over something while looking at pictures. It seemed that Daryl had asked a question about a picture, and Rick was explaining it as Beth walked toward them.
"Yeah, I reckon Lori was sixteen when that picture was made. Beth was about seven, and she was always trailin' behind 'er. Even wound up takin' 'er on dates with us. But Lori never did mind, I didn't either. Beth was actually really fun." Rick chuckled softly. Daryl nodded.
"This one here, this is our wedding. And there's Beth. Lori tore her dress, and Beth couldn't find Annette anywhere, an' so Beth got 'er sewin' kit and fixed it herself. Couldn't even tell at all." Rick explained.
"And that one there, that's when Carl was born." Beth piped up, pointing toward a picture with her, Lori, and Maggie, with a newborn Carl in Lori's arms.
"How old was Lori then, Rick? She was nineteen, right?" Beth asked.
"We both were." Rick replied, "He was a bit of a surprise."
"But Mama was so, so happy. And she spoiled him rotten." Beth recalled, her eyes once again getting misty. Rick tentatively squeezed her shoulder as Daryl walked to her other side, silently standing next to her.
"I just can't believe I wasn't there." Beth cried, her voice cracking.
"You didn't know, Beth. Would it have made a difference?" Daryl asked, his voice soft.
"I don't know. I just didn't get to say goodbye." Beth said. She wiped her eyes, swallowing hard as she walked into the kitchen. She began to inexplicably grab mixing bowls, her mother's Kitchenaid mixer, flour, sugar, and other ingredients. She was going to do the only thing that came to her mind: she baked her mother's famous sugar cookies.
"Bethy, are you alright?" Glenn asked quietly, looking at her perplexed.
"Yep. I'm fine. Just fine." Beth said, mixing the ingredients together, "This dough needs to chill before I can roll it out. In the mean time, I'll clean this place up and make some lemonade. Y'all go rest."
"Beth, maybe you need to get some sleep." Daryl said, trying to help her dry a mixing bowl.
"No, no. Everyone else needs to sleep. I need to wash dishes." Beth replied, her eyes in a steely glare.
"Fine. I'll help ya then. But you're getting some sleep tonight." Daryl told her. Beth rolled her eyes and handed Daryl a drying towel.
"I hate funerals." Beth muttered, scrubbing a pot.
"Me too." Daryl replied.
"Everyone's always so sorry 'bout whoever it was that died, and everyone is always tryin' to tell you they know how you feel. Sometimes they do, but most of the time, they just don't. They really don't. An' quite frankly, I just don't wanna give Mama a big ol' funeral with all those flowers. I don't wanna see my mother in a casket, makeup done all to hell. But Shawn an' Maggie'll have a fit if we don't." Beth said, handing Daryl a just-washed spoon.
"I reckon they always make people feel better. They did when my mom died a few years back." Daryl said. Beth looked over to him, her mouth slightly ajar.
"Really?" Beth asked.
"Yeah. She had cancer. My dad—Dale—he drug her to every doctor in the south I reckon. Problem was, cancer had already moved to 'er liver an' 'er brain, she didn't have long. An' I knew she didn't, but I still didn't wanna say goodbye. Felt cheated for a long time." Daryl explained. Beth nodded her head, still in shock of the days events.
"Last time I talked to my mom, she was complainin' of this awful headache she had. I told her to take some aspirin, an' call me if it got worse. I should've been here." Beth said, her voice laced with guilt.
"Could you have saved her?" Daryl asked.
"If I'd known—if I'd seen the signs—we could've embolized the aneurysm. We could've done surgery, fixed the problem. If I'd known, I could've stopped it. I could have saved her. That's on me." Beth said, choking back a sob.
"No it ain't." Daryl said, perhaps a little too forcefully.
Beth looked up at him, her blue eyes wide and misty.
"These kinda things, you can't stop 'em or control 'em. You gotta believe that." Daryl told her.
"I can't!" Beth snapped, wiping her forehead with the back of her arm, "I let her down."
"No, you didn't." Daryl said. Beth didn't say anything; she just nodded. She put the dishes away and baked the cookies, then proceeded to clean. She cleaned until the sun came up, then she proceeded to do everyone's chores. She made Daryl sleep in her bedroom, and he awoke to find that Beth had already gathered eggs from the chicken coop, fed the horses and goats. When Daryl walked downstairs at 7:30 AM, he noticed she was making breakfast, and that coffee was already made.
"Mornin', Beth." Daryl mumbled, running a hand through his dark hair.
"Morning. Sleep well?" Beth asked.
"Your bed's nice. Your room is comfortable." Daryl replied.
"It is. I'm makin' French toast, bacon, eggs, sausage, and I've got juice and coffee, too, or hot chocolate if you want it." Beth said.
"Beth, you need to take it easy. You're gonna burn out." Daryl said, helping her with the dishwasher.
"No, Daryl. I didn't give anyone time to grieve last time—I only thought about myself. I can't do that. I need to take care of everyone else this time." Beth replied, finishing breakfast. Slowly, everyone came downstairs and into the kitchen, surprised to see Beth had made breakfast and set the table.
"Bethy, you didn't have to do all this." Maggie muttered.
"Yes, yes I do. I've already fed the horses and got the eggs. Cleaned the stalls, too." Beth replied.
"Bethy-bee, you've been busy. Why don't you take a rest." Hershel suggested.
"Nonsense, Daddy. I've got everything under control. Now y'all fix yourself a plate." Beth said, again cleaning.
"Bethy, we're goin' up to Elkins Funeral Home to make arrangements today. We'll be goin' at 11:30." Hershel said. Beth stopped, looking at her father.
"Already?" Beth asked.
"I'm afraid so. Brother Stokes will be preachin' her funeral. She'd asked me to make sure he did it a few years back. The funeral will be at the church of course." Hershel explained.
"Oh. Okay." Beth said. The group ate in relative silence, with Hershel blessing the food and Beth cleaning up immediately after. Maggie, Shawn, Glenn, and even Carl attempted to pitch in, but Beth refused to let them, making them all go watch television. The only person that was able to help was Daryl, and then even she made him go do something else. By 9:30, Daryl made Beth go and get ready to make funeral plans—it was something she was absolutely dreading. Burying her mother, and making plans to do so, was miserable. She shouldn't have to be.
Beth, Hershel, Maggie, Shawn, Rick, and Glenn all arrived at Elkins funeral home, and began to make plans for Annette's funeral. Just like they discussed, the funeral would be at the church Hershel, Annette, Shawn and Sadie still attended: Locus Grove Church of Christ, and Brother Gabriel Stokes would be officiating. Some of the ladies from church had arranged to feed everyone after the funeral in the church annex, and they'd all agreed that Annette would be buried in her favorite church dress; one she wore nearly every Sunday. It was a powder blue dress with a white shrug she wore with it, a string of pearls that Beth and Maggie had bought her usually around her neck. It was painful to make the plans, but it was even more painful for Beth to be treated like she'd break at any moment. That's why, when they arrived home, Beth went straight to cleaning again. She made dinner, baked more cookies, and then began calling people to let them know when the funeral would be. She also wrote Annette's obituary, having Maggie only edit it before they sent it to the newspaper. By the time that dinner rolled around, Beth pulled the roast out of the oven, and even served everyone on the "good" china. Everyone—especially Daryl who had taken a few days off of work—started to notice that Beth was just busying herself. She wasn't really sleeping or eating. She was just trying to do everything Annette had done and then some. Finally, at around 9:00, everyone started going to bed; the visitation was the next day at the funeral home and they all needed the rest. Daryl, however, noticed that Beth's energy levels weren't dropping.
"Beth, you need to sleep." He said as she was sweeping the back porch.
"I can't, Daryl. Isn't that easy." Beth replied, taking the broom inside and immediately starting on laundry.
"You're gonna crash. You need sleep." Daryl said. Beth didn't listen; she just kept working. Daryl could see that she had dark circles under her eyes, and she was remarkably pale. He decided that desperate times called for desperate measures.
"Hey! Doctor Greene! I need to speak with you!" Daryl said, finding Hershel in his study.
"What can I do for ya, son?" Hershel asked, looking up over the top of his glasses.
"Beth ain't okay." Daryl said.
"No, I'm afraid she isn't. You noticed too, huh?" Hershel asked.
"I did. I don't think she's slept at all. I know she hasn't eat much. We gotta get 'er to at least sit down." Daryl said, running his hands through his hair.
"I was worried she might do this. When Lori died, she went nearly catatonic; I think she feels guilty about that now. She's tryin' to take care of everyone, an' she's not takin' care of herself. Come with me, I've got something you can give 'er." Hershel said, motioning for Daryl to follow him. They went to Hershel's bathroom upstairs, and Hershel opened the medicine cabinet, opening a small orange pill bottle.
"This is a sleep aid. Crush up this Ativan and put it in her milk. She'll calm down and go to sleep. She needs it." Hershel said. Daryl nodded, crushing up the pill with some of the compounding tools Hershel kept in the downstairs bathroom, and pouring the contents into a big glass of milk, just as he'd been instructed. Daryl poured himself a glass of milk in a cup of a different color, so perhaps Beth wouldn't quite pick up on the fact that he was drugging her. Surprisingly, it was actually quite easy to offer Beth a glass of milk.
"Hey. I uh, know this might be weird, but whenever I'm upset, I drink a lot of milk. It helps." Daryl muttered, offering Beth the drugged glass.
"Thanks." Beth said, biting her lip, "I love milk."
"Good to know." Daryl replied, watching her gulp down the entire glass in seconds. He knew soon she'd start to slow down, per what Hershel told him. Sure enough, within thirty minutes, she was slowing; her eyelids becoming heavy as she stopped to "take a break" ironing clothes.
"Y'alright, Greene?" Daryl asked.
"I just feel sleepy all of a sudden." Beth mumbled. Then, as if connecting the dots in her head, her eyes widened, and traces of anger filled her face.
"You drugged me, didn't you, Daryl Dixon?" Beth asked, trying to fight the grogginess.
"Dunno what you're talkin' 'bout, Greene." Daryl replied.
"You! Let me guess: either Ativan or Mirtazipine, right? Work quick, especially when put in something like milk? I didn't start getting sleepy till you gave it to me!" Beth exclaimed.
"Greene, you need to get some sleep. You're dad suggested it." Daryl mumbled.
"You don't trust me, do you?" Beth asked.
"I trust you, Beth, but you're gonna crash 'n burn an' ya ain't gonna be no use to anyone." Daryl told her.
She just rolled her eyes before yawning loudly. "I'm too tired to fight you now, Daryl. But this isn't over! I'm gonna be pissed tomorrow!"
"Be pissed. But right now, you need to sleep." Daryl said. He helped her up the stairs; her motor skills becoming a little skewed as the medicine kicked in. Beth was frustrated; Daryl could see it, and he couldn't blame her. But he helped her into her old bedroom; still decorated the way it was when she moved out. He helped her into bed, pulling the covers up and watching as she fell asleep within seconds.
Beth awoke several hours later in a panic, knowing that Annette's visitation was later that evening. She checked the time; 8:00, and ran downstairs, her hair a mess, still wearing the clothes she was last night.
"Daddy? Maggie? Glenn? Where are y'all?" She asked, headed to the kitchen.
"They're out back, feedin' the horses an' goats." Daryl said. He motioned for her to sit down at the table and she did, sitting in Annette's favorite spot. Daryl handed her a plate of toast and a glass of cranberry juice.
"You still pissed?" He asked, as Beth took a bite of toast.
"You drugged me. You and my dad drugged me." Beth replied sharply.
"Ya needed the rest. You were runnin' yourself into the ground. You're a doctor, Beth. You of all people should know that isn't something you do." Daryl explained.
Beth bit her lip, "I can't do what I did after Lori, Daryl. I just can't."
"Jus' don't pull that shit anymore, alright? Take care of yourself." Daryl said.
"Promise." Beth replied.
"Good." Daryl said. Soon, the rest of the family came in, each eating toast and bagels, and other small things that members of the church had brought for them. Maggie sat down next to Beth, smiling weakly, her eyes not the normal, vibrant green that they had been.
"Hey Bethy-bee." Maggie greeted.
"Mornin' Maggie-May." Beth replied.
"Mama's obituary came out today." Maggie sad sadly, handing Beth the paper.
"Did it? I wanna read it." Beth said, opening the paper to the "obituaries" section.
"Bethy, why don't you read it for us? I haven't read it yet." Hershel suggested. Beth swallowed hard, a lump forming in her throat. Beth felt Rick walk behind her, pressing a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at everyone and then down at the paper, and began to read the words that she'd written in honor of her dearly loved mother:
"Annette Vivian Greene, 55, of East Griffin, died Friday, September 5th, after sudden stroke caused by a brain aneurysm. Mrs Greene is proceeded in death by her parents, Kenneth (Kenny) Jackson and Beatrice (Bea) Jackson, both of Orchard Hill, GA. She is also proceeded in death by her brother and sister-in-law, John and Cathy Jackson, of Orchard Hill, her sister, Martha Walker of Birmingham, AL, and her daughter, Lori Grimes, of Atlanta, GA.
Mrs. Greene, a lifelong native of King County, grew up in Orchard Hill, and graduated from King County High School in 1977. It was then that she moved to Auburn, Alabama, where she attended Auburn University, majoring in elementary education. While attending Auburn, she met Hershel Greene, who was in his last year of veterinary school at Auburn. The two married in 1979, in Hershel's hometown of East Griffin at the Locust Grove church of Christ. After Annette graduated from Auburn in 1981, and the two moved back to King County. Just a year later, Annette and Hershel adopted Annette's niece, Lori, after the deaths of Annette's brother and sister-in-law. In 1985, Annette and Hershel welcomed their son, Shawn. In 1988, Annette and Hershel welcomed their daughter, Margaret (Maggie) to their family. In 1991, their youngest, Elizabeth (Beth) was born. Annette loved being a mother and wife, and treasured making memories with her four children. She continued to teach school at King County Elementary, teaching kindergarten and first grade, and winning 'Teacher of the Year' award eight different years during her 33 year teaching career. Students loved her, and she loved her students. She was an active member at Locust Grove church of Christ, teaching Sunday School for 33 years, organizing vacation bible schools, and participating in mission trips to Mexico, Haiti, and even helped build two schools in the Honduras. She loved music, and taught all of her children how to play the piano.
Though tragedy occurred in her life several times, Annette will always be remembered as having hope. She will be remembered for making the best out of bad situations, and encouraging her family to do the same. And, though she deeply loved her family, they take comfort in knowing that she is reunited with her parents, two of her siblings, and her precious daughter, Lori, whom she has missed since her death two years ago.
Annette is survived by her loving husband of thirty-five years, Dr. Hershel Greene of East Griffin, GA, her children, Shawn Greene (Sadie) of Griffin, GA, Maggie Rhee (Glenn) of Atlanta, GA, Beth Greene, of Atlanta, GA, and son-in-law, Rick Grimes, of Atlanta, GA, two grandchildren, Carl and Judith Grimes, two siblings, June Predmore and Jim Jackson, both of Orchard Hill, and several nieces and nephews.
The funeral will be Monday, September 8th, at 12:00 pm at Locust Grove church of Christ with Brother Gabriel Stokes officiating, with a burial at East Griffin Cemetery. Pall bearers will be Rick Grimes, Glenn Rhee, Carl Grimes, Shawn Greene, Daryl Dixon, and Sheriff Shane Walsh."
Beth looked up, noting that Maggie had obviously changed who the pall bearers were. "Daryl? Since when are you gonna be a pall bearer?" Beth asked.
"Your cousin Luke couldn't do it. Hershel asked me to." Daryl replied.
"And Shane is gonna be a pall bearer?" Beth asked, rather irritated.
"Beth, you know as well as I do that Shane is still a family friend." Maggie replied.
"He's my ex-boyfriend." Beth snapped.
"Jim couldn't do it either." Maggie said.
"And why not?!" Beth asked, "Why couldn't Jim come carry 'is sister's casket?!"
"'Cause Jim's got cancer, Beth!" Maggie hissed. Beth sat back in her chair.
"Jim's got cancer and the chemo makes 'im sick. He didn't want anyone to know, 'specially not now." Maggie added, "He only told Mama a few days ago."
"Why didn't he tell 'er sooner?" Beth asked.
"Didn't want 'er to worry. That was his baby sister." Shawn said, "Dad only told us yesterday."
"Oh." Beth muttered, her head lowering.
Maggie pat her on the back, "He'll be at the funeral. Luke can't take leave from Fort Campbell, though. He wanted to be there, but he can't. That's why Daryl and Shane are pall bearers."
"You'd better tell Shane to mind his manners." Beth growled, standing up.
"We will, Beth. I'll keep an eye on 'im." Rick promised. Beth nodded, and then went up to her room. She just needed a few minutes alone, but she didn't prepare for the knock on the door. When she opened it, she expected it to be Daryl. Instead, however, it was Carl and Judith.
"Carl? What're you doin' up here?" Beth asked.
"Aunt Beth, I wanted to talk to you." Carl said, setting Judith down so she could run up to Beth.
"Hi, my Beffy! Don't be sad." Judith said, giving Beth a sloppy kiss.
"What'd you wanna talk to me about, Carl?" Beth asked.
"I remember when my mom died, and I didn't get to say goodbye either. I know it sucks." Carl said, matter-of-factly.
"Yeah, it does." Beth replied. Carl sighed heavily.
"I know everyone thinks you're gonna check out again. I don't, though. You're stronger now." Carl told her. Beth looked up.
"You think so?" She asked.
"You're a doctor now, Aunt Beth. You work with my dad. You're strong. I know you can do this. Thing is, I think it's your turn to keep everyone else strong. Especially Uncle Shawn. And especially Poppa." Carl said.
"Thanks, Carl." Beth said.
"And, I also wanna talk to you, 'cause I think you'll listen." Carl added.
"Yeah?" Beth asked.
"I don't think we should wear black. Nana didn't like it. I think we should wear her favorite colors tonight and tomorrow. Blue, yellow, green. All her favorites. She was always happy. We miss her, we all do, but that's no reason to make her whole funeral something dark. It wasn't her." Carl said. Beth thought a moment, and then smiled. Carl was so much like Lori.
"Yeah, Carl. I love that idea." Beth said. Carl smiled. Beth enjoyed being with Carl and Judith, their innocence made her smile. Beth convinced the rest of the family to go along with Carl's idea—to celebrate Annette and her love for bright, happy things. So, for the visitation that night, everyone wore bright colors; Maggie wearing a bright green dress, Beth wearing a light turquoise dress, Shawn wearing a white shirt with a purple tie, and Hershel wearing a yellow dress shirt. Rick, Glenn, Carl, Shawn, and Daryl all wore colored ties, and Judith wore a bright pink dress that Annette had just made for her, something that Beth loved. Beth didn't want to go to the funeral home that night, but for some reason, having Daryl there helped. She rode there with him, and he walked next to her as they entered. She didn't want to do this, but she had to. For everyone.
Three hours later, the visitation was over. Beth had said her fair share of "thank yous" to everyone, and the visitation lasted an hour longer than it was supposed to. When they arrived at home that night, Beth almost didn't want to walk in. She halfway expected Annette to be making supper, but she knew she'd never see her mother's bright, happy green eyes again.
That part pained her.
So, she sat outside in the old porch swing, the very one she used to sit with her mother in. She sobbed quietly, not wanting anyone to see her cry. Suddenly, she heard the screen door swing, and she saw Daryl's silhouette sneaking through the door.
"Hershel said you were out here." Daryl muttered.
"Yeah, he always knows." Beth said, rolling her eyes.
"You okay?" Daryl asked.
"Jus' tired of losin' people, that's all." Beth replied.
Daryl sat down next to her, stretching out. "When Irma died, that wasn't the first time I lost a mom." Daryl said, almost so low that Beth couldn't hear.
"What?" Beth asked. Daryl nodded.
"I reckon I was 'bout seven. My mom liked to smoke in bed. One day, I was out playin' with the neighborhood kids, an' they all went runnin' toward some sirens we heard. When I got there, I realized the sirens were at my house. That was my mom in bed. Burnt down to nothin'. Wasn't anythin' left." Daryl said.
"They took 'er out before I could see 'er, ya know? She was always my best friend. Always wanted to be like 'er." Beth said, "It was so soon."
"It's always too soon." Daryl replied.
"I thought Mama would see me get married, see me have babies. But I thought Lori would, too. I miss 'em, Daryl. My family, those were my friends. I don't really have anyone else." Beth cried.
"Ya got me." Daryl said. Beth looked up, a weak smile coming to her face.
"I do. Why are you so nice to me, Daryl?" Beth asked, tears streaming down her face.
"Cause you're worth bein' nice to, Greene." Daryl replied. Beth leaned her head on Daryl's shoulder.
Daryl laid his chin on the top of Beth's head, and for the first time in a long time, Beth felt at peace. She hadn't had that feeling in quite a while, and it struck her, while they were there. In that moment of tragedy and sadness, Beth Greene realized something:
She was falling in love with Daryl Dixon, the man she'd previously hated, and she had no idea why. But she knew that she was falling for him, suddenly, all at once, and she had no idea what to do.