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Daryl took a step out of his truck slowly. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion, even the squawks from the birds that flew overhead seemed longer and more drawn out. The gravel from the driveway crunched under Daryl's work boots what he felt was loudly and both feet planted on the ground, becoming deeply rooted so that Daryl felt he couldn't move. The truck's door was shut tightly and that little white bag was held tightly in his sweaty hand. Even though the front door was only a few steps away from where he was standing he couldn't seem to move. He could see the TV flickering through the screen door and, for once, couldn't hear Merle yelling drunkenly from somewhere within the house. Now was the perfect time and perfect times, especially in a Dixon's life, were rare. Still, he couldn't move. The humidity of the Georgia summer was making perspiration bead on his forehead and he could feel sweat stains forming through his black T-shirt.
Finally, Daryl managed to take a deep breath, push back his nasty, taunting thoughts and walk into the little white house. Kendall wasn't in the living room or kitchen, but the dishes were done and still wet in the dish drainer and the oven was on with something in it, making the house smell delicious. Daryl stood in the kitchen for another minute to try and re-motivate himself. His worst fears kept playing themselves over and over again in his mind and they crippled him.
"Kendall!" Daryl finally called out. There was a second of silence, except for the TV.
"Be right down!" Kendall called back cheerfully. Daryl sighed and almost laughed as well, of course it had been too much to hope for that she would come right down and he could get this stress off of his chest. His fears of rejection were beginning to knot up in his chest, creating a physical hold on him as well. Daryl walked through the kitchen and into the living room, where he dropped himself down onto the couch in an attempt to calm his nerves.
"Hey, where were you? I thought you had today off," Kendall said as she came down the stairs that were on the opposite side of living room. Kendall looked pretty; it's almost like she knew Daryl was nervous and was trying to make it worse. Her make up was done and she was wearing a dark blue dress that hugged her body and showed off her bare legs.
"I did," Daryl said, trying to crack a smile. Though he was sure it ended up looking more like a grimace. Daryl had never been good at forced smiles, or anything ingenuine like that. Hell, Daryl had a hard enough time expressing himself as it was without having to fake an emotion.
"That doesn't answer my question," Kendall said in a laugh as she tossed her long hair over her shoulder. A couple months before, Kendall had cut her hair from breast length to skimming her shoulders. She'd claimed she had to, since styling her hair had fried it. God, had she hated having short hair though. Remembering her complaining, to the point of comedy, in Daryl's opinion, and seeing it beginning to get long, and more beautiful than it was before, made him smile. He couldn't explain it, but something in as simple as her tucking her hair back had calmed him. Maybe it was remembering her humor and a past between the two of them that wasn't rocky that helped fade his fears.
"Well, calm down Ken, I'm about to tell yah," Daryl replied in a half smile and an eye roll. Daryl rose to his feet and was about to take a couple steps towards her when the screen door squeaked open and loudly slammed shut.
"Ninety nine bottles 'o beer on tha wall, ninety nine bottle 'o beer! Take one down an' pass it around. . . " Merle shrieked. Merle was still out of sight from the living room, but Daryl didn't have to see him to know his brother was belligerently drunk. Then, a scratchy females giggle followed Merle's singing and Daryl felt his heart sink. Merle wouldn't just pass through and let Daryl surprise Kendall. Not if he had a woman on his arm. No, Merle would have to be as obnoxious and rude as possible in order to 'impress' the woman he brought home. It was the natural order of Merle's drunken hookup routine. Pick them up at a bar, bring them home, be an asshole to Kendall and/or Daryl for anywhere from a half hour to hour and a half, then bring them down to the basement to do the deed. Behind Merle's back, Daryl and Kendall would call this the Hillbilly mating ritual.
"Baby brutha! What're you doin' home?" Merle said in a voice so loud it was more of a yell. The cheap rum and chewing tobacco on his breath was thick and nauseating.
"I have today off, Merle," Daryl replied. Normally, Daryl would take advantage of his brothers inebriated state and mess with him as much as possible, but now he just wanted Merle to go down and fuck the bimbo he brought home so he could talk to Kendall, who hadn't seen the little white bag he'd brought home yet. She was still completely clueless to his surprise which was one advantage.
"Whatever, I guess yer jus' tryin' to ruin my plans," Merle said in a fake sad voice. Daryl saw Kendall roll her eyes and he repressed a smirk.
"What are you talking about?" Daryl asked and instantly regretted doing so.
"Because, I wanted to fuck Karla here all over tha house. Even yer bed sounded pretty inviting," Merle said and started laughing. The drunk woman behind him hiccupped and began to giggle as well. She was older, even older than Merle, probably pushing 50. Her face was slathered in make up; there were dark orange lines around the corners of her face where her foundation ended and her eyes were surrounded in a very thick and uneven eyeliner which was then surrounded in a pastel pink eye shadow. Another gem brought home by Merle. "I mean, we could still do that, if you wanna watch baby brutha," Merle winked and slapped Karla's ass who continued to giggle maniacally.
"All set," Daryl replied in a low voice. "Why don't you two just go downstairs," He added. Karla began to take a step across the living room towards the basement door, showing she probably had been here before, when Merle grabbed her arm to bring her to a halt.
"I mean, Kendall could join if she wanted. How would you feel about that, Karla?" Merle said in a slow, stupid laugh. Kendall uncrossed her arms, her arched eyebrows raised in surprise. She opened her mouth and was going to say something when Karla beat her to it.
"She's hot. She's got a real nice rack and ass too," Karla began in a nasally voice that was heavy with a southern accent. "What the hell? Come down to the basement with us," She said in a giggle and winked a pastel pink eyelid. Daryl wanted to yell at Merle for suggesting it. Nothing boiled his blood more than another man, especially his own brother, coming onto something that was his. At the same time though, Karla's comment made him want to burst out laughing. It wasn't the first time Kendall had been put into this kind of situation. Many a drunk girl had grabbed Kendall's face while telling her how beautiful she is and tried to kiss her. Some had tried to take her further. Kendall had never reciprocated; like Daryl, she was a fierce committer. Once she had told Daryl she'd be his girl, she was all his. Daryl liked to joke about how he'd like if Kendall did kiss one of those sloppy drunk girls, but he liked being the only one to touch her and didn't want that to change.
"Oh, uh. Merle was just joking," Kendall stammered as she recrossed her arms over her body uncomfortably in an attempt to cover herself. Karla's face dropped and it became clear she had genuinely been hoping Kendall would join her and Merle in the bedroom.
"Oh, princess, you know I wasn't." Merle said. His speech was getting lower and more slurred. He was slowly swaying his way over towards the couch and Daryl knew if he made it to the couch he'd pass out there. Why he'd get so drunk before 6pm on a Saturday was beyond Daryl.
"Merle. This is my house. Either go downstairs with Karla, or leave. I'm not in the mood for this today," Kendall said, her voice strong and not showing any of the discomfort she'd been displaying seconds ago. Merle had a big dumb grin across his face. He was about to say something, when Kendall cut him off, knowing what he would say. "You're a freeloader. You don't pay rent here, your name isn't on the lease or any of the accounts. Don't piss me off," Merle's grin fell and he grumbled something illegible before staggering towards the basement with Karla at his heels.
"Why am I always the one who has to do that?" Kendall asked in a slight laugh. It was true, she was always the one who shut down Merle when his bullshit got too much to handle. Kendall didn't expect an answer from Daryl, though. She knew his answer and was ashamed she'd asked. Daryl's entire laugh Merle had degraded him and left him to feel worthless. Daryl would never say it and would get completely enraged if Kendall said it, but she knew part of him still feared Merle.
"Dunno, Ken," Daryl shrugged. Kendall walked past him and sat down on the couch, less than an inch from her left leg was the little white bag, shoved in between the cushion and the arm of the sofa. Kendall noticed the little bit of white plastic sticking up within a couple seconds of her sitting down.
"What's this?" She asked absentmindedly, clearly thinking it was something she may have left from earlier. Not knowing it's significance or the stress it was causing Daryl at all.
"Ken, wait," Daryl said and then walked over to the couch and picked it up himself. He opened up the little plastic bag and pulled out the small black velvet box. Daryl took a deep breath as his blood pumped through his veins hot and heavy, making his hands shake. Daryl got down on one knee in front of Kendall and opened the velvet box to show a white gold ring with a diamond about the size of a dime in it's center. "Marry me?" He asked as he tried to swallow again, but his spit had seemed to evaporate leaving his mouth hot and dry. Kendall's face dropped.