Two weeks had passed since Beth's birthday. As she had predicted, Hershel's reaction to the car was not pretty. Otis had been livid, but after he and Hershel had visited the "friend" who had sold Hershel the car, they had returned considerably disgruntled but there was nothing they could really do; Otis had been told the car had problems. It was ridiculous really, but there it was. Beth informed her father of what Daryl Dixon had offered, and Hershel had immediately gone to the phone. Beth had hurriedly given him the number Daryl had written down, which she had since entered into her phone. Beth had been somewhat relieved that he hadn't questioned the new number, as even though there was no reason for him to be suspicious about it she just didn't feel like explaining why she had Daryl Dixon's private phone number – especially when she didn't really know why herself. Beth had listened to Hershel's end of the conversation tensely, but at the end of the phone call he seemed surprisingly satisfied. Satisfied that Beth hadn't been taken advantage of at least, but not about the car completely, nor of Daryl Dixon's customer service skills. Maggie hadn't minded driving around that weekend for Beth's birthday in the city. Beth and her friends Laura and Maddy ended up crashing at Glenn's apartment as both Maggie and Glenn were too drunk to drive back, but overall it was a fun night.
Two weeks…and no word from Daryl Dixon about the car. She wasn't sure if it was the reason he'd told her not to phone the shop, but she had a feeling he had known she would get impatient. Beth stared out at the highway from her window seat on the bus, her phone in her hand. She had scrolled through her contacts, stopping at Daryl Dixon, closed it, and opened it again.
Every trip into college and back seemed about 50 hours longer than the last, and Beth would usually experience a moment of annoyance or two when she got on the bus. She would be the first to admit that she was spoiled. The youngest in the family, she had been doted on from the moment she came to be. She was starting to think maybe this car was a good thing though. Maybe this was it…her parents had been telling her for months that she needed to take on more responsibility. Did they honestly think that meant giving her a car? Beth decided that she would take whatever money Daryl Dixon got for that lemon, give him a cut (no matter what he said, she was giving him something). Everyone had insisted she keep the money from the scrap metal, and at first she had flat out refused. However, Hershel had pointed out that if she didn't take the money, she wouldn't be getting any birthday present, so she was starting to relent. She would buy her own car, and she didn't need her parents to do it for her. Even Daryl Dixon was spoiling her. He hadn't charged for the inspection of the car, and his refusal to take any money from selling the parts or scrap metal was weighing heavily on her mind. Daryl Dixon just wasn't known to be so nice…the only good thing she'd ever heard about him was from Glenn on her birthday. He certainly had a rough exterior, but his offer to sell the parts seemed at odds with that. Beth knew that wasn't part of their services.
The bus pulled up to the bus stop where she could see her father standing, waiting for her. She sighed. She had gently suggested to him a couple of times to stay in the truck, but on the other hand it was a nice sight to come home to after a long day in classes. Hershel smiled as Beth gave him a peck on the cheek, and they walked over the road to the truck. The drive was mostly silent, until Hershel cleared his throat.
"I was talking to Sheriff Grimes today…Merle Dixon is in prison."
Beth gasped. "He did it? They got him?"
Hershel shook his head, looking torn between anger and…disappointment? Why he would be disappointed, Beth wasn't sure. Merle Dixon in prison was good for everyone (except maybe Merle Dixon). Beth was even sure it was good for Daryl Dixon.
"He was in prison a week before the fire. They don't know who did it."
Beth was silent as she processed this information. She had been more interested in why she couldn't call the Dixon's shop than in who set the fire at Bill's, Beth reflected guiltily. Bill Weatherly had been around their place for lunch one day, but Beth was at class. Annette had told Beth that he was waiting on the police and insurance company to finish their investigations before he could find out whether or not he would be covered for the damages. It seemed no one had even noticed Merle Dixon's absence around town. He was in and out of prison so much people had stopped talking ages ago.
"His brother has an alibi, so it wasn't him either."
Beth breathed out air she hadn't been aware she was holding in. "Good."
Hershel raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. They drove in silence the rest of the way home.
After they'd had dinner and Beth had showered, she sat down at her desk to write a short paper she'd been given earlier in the day due tomorrow on the myths of sex and gender. She logged on to her laptop and sat there for a few minutes, browsing the internet and messaging a few people. Glancing at her textbook, she opened her browser and typed into the address bar used cars. Beth scanned the results and opened a couple of tabs, eyebrows furrowed. The cars were expensive, and she played around with the search refinements. She wasn't sure which make of car to pick and ignored most of the other selections like fuel type or cylinders.
Beth had already realised that even if she knew which make of car to pick or what she was looking for, she needed a mechanic to look at the car before she bought it. She wasn't going to make the same mistakes as her father and Otis, who had clearly trusted their "friend" too much. That "friend" Franklin Abbey was really just someone Otis had done work for over the past 5 or so years. It was safe to say Otis had withdrawn his services, and their friendship was no more. The chances of Bill not telling her parents were slim; they had been going to him for 30 odd years, and Beth wanted this to be a sure fire surprise. She shut the browser, her mind chanting ask Daryl Dixon. Beth knew him hardly at all, but she knew if there was one thing she could count on him to do it was keep his mouth shut. She could picture his glare and his angry movements in her mind. Something was, and had been, wrong in his life. In his upbringing. With an older brother like Merle Dixon, she supposed he hadn't had much of a chance. She could picture him walking through the car yard as easily as she could see her laptop in front of her. Pushing any further thoughts on the Dixon brothers out of her head, she started her paper.
Would he even agree to help her?
Beth pushed her chair away from her desk in exasperation. She was being ridiculous! She would just message him, about the car parts, just to get something going. A phone call might be a bit too…confrontational for him (and her), and he could reply when he wanted. She was still being ridiculous, but at least she was actually planning something, she thought wryly. After about ten minutes of absurd deliberating, she stared down at her phone. The message read: Hi Daryl, its Beth Greene, just wondering how you were going with selling the car parts?
She quickly pressed send and sat back in her chair wondering why it was such a big deal.
A bit of a short chapter.
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