Chapter 9

THURSDAY

He awoke with the dawn, as he normally did, but everything else was a hodgepodge of strange and pleasurable. The perfect warmth of the room, the mattress, which was actually comfortable; the soft, sweet smelling bedding- and the tiny woman who was curled up around his back, her little hand clutching at his shirt. He could tell by her breathing that she was still asleep, and he was loath to wake her, but the need to pee was over riding everything else that was keeping him still. He got up as gently as he could, gingerly pulling his t-shirt out of her fingers, and covering her up with the light blanket. He headed for the bathroom with the lightest steps he could muster. He hadn't been in it before, and it was much as he expected a woman's bathroom to be; full of strange bottles and pretty towels on the rack. After he was done, he took a moment and smelled her shampoo bottle, smiling at the familiar scent. Then he crawled back into bed, laying on his side to face her.

He loved the little cotton nightgown she wore, so pretty and feminine in a way that he always imagined a woman dressed. He captured a little lace edging between two fingers, rubbing it to feel the softness. But it caught on his calluses, and he released it quickly. What would it be like, to make love to a really beautiful woman? Only one other woman he had ever had had been this pretty, and that was back in his early 20's. He had still been lean then, with harder muscles, more stamina. God he hated his body. Beyond the scars, there was a beer gut developing, softening of his arms into fat in places, his legs were too skinny, his one broke ass eye where he had been punched too many times. Jesus Christ, why was he even here? He reached up, caressing the un-brushed fluff of her morning hair with his knuckles. Girls like her, even when they grew up like him, ran as far away as possible when they got older. They got fancy jobs in big cities and probably talked to expensive shrinks about their fucked up childhoods. They lived in big, expensive houses with their husbands that played golf or some shit. Not some old, broken down excuse for a man. He needed to know. No more being a pussy ass coward, he needed to talk to her, know what she wanted. Before this, whatever it was, went any further. Before he fell even more... and he cut that thought in the bud. Her old life had done her wrong somehow, and for some reason she thought he could fix it. Maybe he could. Maybe it was all he could do. Maybe he would see her through whatever her problems were and then she really would be gone. He let out a deep sigh, digging his fingernail into his cuticle. Why weren't woman ever easy? 'Because the easy ones cost $80 an hour and you pick them up behind the truck stop' he thought with a smile. The best ones were hard, and tough. They made you crazy and scared. The ones worth working for, they didn't just make you work for it for no reason, as he was learning fast. They made you work because you wanted too- because you suddenly wanted to be a better man. Maybe she would leave, but a growing voice inside him was thinking maybe she wouldn't. He flexed his fingers for a moment, then let his hand rest on her hip, before closing his eyes again and falling back asleep.

She awoke about ten minutes before her alarm was to go off, feeling hot and crampy. She moved her thighs together to make sure she didn't feel any wetness between her legs yet, and felt awash of relief that she remained dry. That was almost all the movement she could manage, as Daryl's arm had shifted around her, crushing her body to him in a vice grip. They were both on their sides, and she ventured a look up. All she could see was under his chin, where the skin was beginning to crape with age and was covered with early morning stubble. She wanted to reach up and run her fingers over the softening skin under his chin and up through his beard, but she knew it would weird him out. She understood it, what years - decades even- of being told that you were less than would do to you. That it became all you saw, everywhere, all the time. And when someone came along that didn't just tolerate your supposed 'flaws', but loved them, then it all just seemed insane. Or that it was just a new kind of pain, one you hadn't even thought of yet. It took a long time to recognize someone giving you a flower, when all you've ever been given was shit.

She wiggled one arm up around his middle, giving another little glance to the clock on the wall to check the time. He stirred, and pulled her even closer, leaving her little room to breathe. Now she could barely even move her head, her face was crushed against his chest so tightly. She used her free hand to run down to his backside, giving it a little squeeze. She felt his face nuzzle into her hair and he mumbled sleepily; "Five more minutes." At least she thought that's what he said, she was pretty sure he was still mostly asleep.

She kept her voice soft, gently stroking his back; "Sweetheart, I'm going to..."

"Goddamn angel." Then he snored, and settled back into her hair again.

That took her aback. She smiled, letting him cuddle her in his sleep; probably the only time he felt fully comfortable with her. She watched the clock tick down, running her hand over the little of him she could touch from her position. Not all of him was rough skin, the dip of his lower back was soft, and she came back to it again and again; loving the idea that this little part of him was a place that only she knew about. That this little valley of softness was hers and hers alone.

Finally, her alarm went off, and he rolled away, wiping his hands over his eyes. "Ugh, turn that fuckin thing off."

She chuckled, rolling over to her side to shut off the alarm. "How'd you sleep?"

He looked at her a little sideways. "Alright, I guess. Considerin' you were crowden' me all night. Thought you were gunna keep your hands to yourself."

She came up and kissed him on the forehead, saying; "Sorry angel, I'll try harder next time." Before walking to the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.

He suddenly felt a little abashed. He had been having a very vivid dream about finding her in the woods, and she had called him angel because of the wings on his vest. He shook his head to himself. No way, it was just a dream- it's not like she could read his mind or anything. He heard the kids starting to make a racket, and got himself dressed to start making breakfast. The boys never said a word about Daryl coming out of their mother's room, they were just happy to see him again. What they were excited about was a carnival being in town; and trying to get their mother to take them. She acquiesced to going that Friday, in order to get them to finish eating and get ready.

Daryl noticed her moving slower and stiffer, as if in pain, but didn't know how to ask what was wrong. When he saw her take six of the extra strength pills he finally figured he needed to do something or she was going to fall over dead and he would have to watch. He pulled her into the kitchen by her bicep when the boys finally ran upstairs to finish getting dressed.

"You shouldn't go to work today." He growled at her, under his breath.

"And why the hell not?" She wasn't quite sure what he was talking about and felt a little perturbed.

"I can tell ur in pain. I don't know what's wrong, but you need to take care of urself."

She laughed, and he frowned at her; what the fuck was wrong with this woman? "Oh Daryl. It's just my period, I'll be fine."

His face scrunched up. "But you look like death."

She smiled, trying to keep her sarcasm in check; "Thanks. But I'll be fine. I have this thing where I get really bad periods. I feel like I've been in a car accident all day, but they are really short- only two or three days long." He looked really uncomfortable. "End of lecture. I'll be right as rain by Saturday or Sunday at the latest."

"Is it always..." he waived his hand at her. "I mean... you look all pale and wobbly, and you look dead tired. Like you got the flu."

"Sometimes are worse than others. Don't worry about it, I've been handling Endometriosis since I was a kid, I got this covered." Suddenly the boys were back downstairs like a whirlwind of monster truck backpacks and half tied shoes. "I want you both in the car in under five minutes. Go, now." She turned back to see him chewing on his lips. "I don't suppose I could count on you to handle dinner tonight? There's extra cash in the cookie jar if you want to get some takeout. I just know I'm going to be beat by the end of the day..."

"Naw, its fine, just get on out of here before the boys steal the car."

"Fair enough." She gathered her things and headed for the door, silently thanking whatever god there was that he hadn't made this anymore awkward than she already felt about it. Intellectually she knew having a period was nothing to be ashamed about, per-se. But it still helped that he didn't freak out or act disgusted by her. Of course inside Daryl was a very different animal then outside Daryl. Inside he was a mess of embarrassment, half thought out questions, and the voice of Merle making fun of the whole shebang.

He had worked most of the day away working on the huge backyard fence. With just him working, and no post hole digger other than himself, it would take him at least a week and a half to get the job done. He went into town to order lumber, and stopped by Ricks to have a beer and the world's most awkward conversation about 'what to do about a woman on her thang'. Rick set him up with several large cheeseburgers, a marginally nice bottle of wine, and directions to a bakery where Lori liked the chocolate cupcakes. His final words were a warning to absolutely, under pain of death, not to mention that he had gone to the bar and talked to his buddy about her period.

"They get really funny about it man. Take my advice. Tell her you Googled it or some shit, but just don't tell her you talked to me about it. She will, I guarantee, loose her shit about it."

She did not, however, loose her shit. He tried to lie to her. But he had the hardest time just talking to her, much less getting creative with the truth. They had finished dinner, and she had just settled down with her first glass of wine after putting the boys to bed. She sat on the couch watching TV, as he came into her line of sight.

"Uh, May?"

"Yes, sweetheart?" He was nervously drying his hands over and over again, after insisting on washing the dishes himself.

"I... uh. Well I got you somethin'. I just don wan ya to be mad at me."

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Why would I be mad? If it's a gift?"

"Well I don't, I mean, I wouldn't want you thinkin' I was implyin'... oh jesus I don't know woman." He stomped back towards the kitchen in a huff and came back with a little pink box. "Here, just open the fucking thing."

She took it from him, and gave him a quick glance under her eyelashes before opening it. He looked like he was about to chew his own thumb off. She opened the lid and inside was a beautiful little chocolate cake, small enough to fit in her hand. "I don't, I mean I heard... don't woman like chocolate? You know, when they... you know..." He was red all down his face and chest, his eyes cast down to the floor.

"Oh my god Daryl, this looks amazing. Where did you find a bakery around these parts that could make something like this?"

"Well... I, oh." He ran his hands over his face. "I'm not..." He sounded a little scared. "I ain't suppose ta' say."

She chuckled. "Oh well now I have to know. Come on, what's with the secrecy?"

"Please don' make me. You're gunna be so mad."

She stood up, placing the cake on the table. Her voice was the same one she used when the boys were confessing to something. "Now Daryl." She ran her hands over his arms. "I won't be mad. I just don't understand what all the fuss over a bakery is."

"You won't be mad?"

"No."

"I didn't... I didn't know what to do. With you. And... your thing. So I asked Rick. And he told me that's where he got stuff for Lori, when they was still married, that that's the kind of thing a good guy would do. But I wasn't supposed to say nuthin', cause you would get all upset with me for talkin' about it with another guy." He was almost a foot taller than her but he looked like a sad little boy that had gotten caught lighting firecrackers where he wasn't supposed to. She couldn't help but chuckle a little at the whole thing.

"Oh baby, I'm not mad." She pulled him into her arms. "Come here you sweet man." He wrapped his arms around her neck as she went for his middle.

"So you really ain't mad?"

"I wouldn't go talking about my period to anyone else. But this time no. Your heart was in the right place. And you brought me a bacon cheeseburger, a bottle of wine, and a fucking cake; so I really don't have much to complain about." She pulled him down and gave him a little kiss. He grinned, like he knew he did good, and she couldn't help but smile back.

"Now I'm going to go get my pajamas on, then I'm going to come back down here, and we are going to drink and eat that cake. Alright?" She got that bossy little tone in her voice, and he loved it.

"Yes Ma'm. But I'ma drink a beer- not exactly a wine kind of guy."

"You can drink whatever you like if you keep bringing me chocolate."

'I'd rather be drinkin' you.' He thought, grinning a little, his head bobbed down again.

"Sometimes I wonder what's going through that head of yours" she continued, lightly. She gave him a chaste little kiss on the lips and went upstairs to change. When she got back downstairs he was on the couch, stocking feet propped up on the coffee table, beer in his hand. She put in a movie and started in on her cake, feeding him little bites from her fork; which he took with shy glances and quick lips. But he was also shifty, peeling strips of label off of one beer, then another; casting glances at her every so often.

She paused the movie suddenly, turning to Daryl. "Sugar?" She whispered; "You seem a little twitchy." He scoffed. "Twitchier than usual."

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no sound came out. He kept his eyes glued to the television screen where a young woman was about to be attacked by a werewolf.

"Is it the movie? Because I can put in the zombie one I have instead..."

"No! I mean, its fine...I just...Its nuthin."

"You know Daryl; we haven't known each other long. And you are just about as inscrutable as the Sphinx. But even I can tell that something is twisting at you." He shot her a look, almost pleading. "And I know that you would probably rather be shot in the knee than have a conversation. But there is something going on inside your head that has almost broken through that barrier, and that tells me that it's something important to you. Which means..." she reached over and held his free hand. "... that is important to me. I won't judge you Daryl. Is it this issue with your brother?"

He shook his head with a little grunt. He didn't understand several of the words she had used, but he understood the meaning. He didn't want to make her mad, but he needed to know, for himself.

"Just try sugar. I know it's hard, since your such an introvert..."

He sneered at her "I'm a what?"

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter; you can google it later. It's not a bad thing, it's just a personality type. I'm an introvert too, just not nearly as much as you." He gave her a little head nod and made himself a little mental note about it for later. "Daryl, please. Whatever it is, I won't be mad." He gave her a sideways glance and she took a drink. "Ok, I probably won't be mad. And I really just want to finish this movie, even though I've seen it eight million times."

"You really like Werewolves that much?"

"I do. I've always had a taste for wild things." She gave him a big shit eating grin, and he looked away with a tiny smile.

"It's just... you talk a lot about bein' a kid and stuff before commin' here. But you hardly ever, ya know, talk about him." She shook her head and shrugged. He sighed. "You know... yur husband. I guess... I don' know. You had money, a big ass house, all that shit; but I know you weren't happy..."

She knew what he was asking. He thought she had everything a woman could want, so what had that other guy done to fuck it all up so badly? She pulled his hand up, and kissed him gently on the fingers. "It took me a long time to get away from my childhood. A lot of work. Schooling, but also learning things on my own that other kids in fancy homes already knew. I worked so hard at it, that when I met someone who made a lot of money, and I told myself that nothing else mattered. That my kids would grow up with every advantage that I never had, that was all that mattered." She slowly started petting at his hand as it sat in her lap, more to sooth herself then him. She took a deep sigh. "I had a big house in the suburbs, played tennis, and went to dinner parties."

She turned to him, rubbing his beard, looking down, but listening intently. "And you know what Daryl?" He grunted, unmoving. "I hated every fucking minute of it. All of it, the people, the animals, the streets, the shops, all of it, was fake. It's like those people live in a theme park based on money and elitism. I would try to talk with people about real things, like the environment or poverty and they would look at me like I had two heads. If I had one more discussion about the Kardashians I was going to blow my fucking head off." That got her a chuckle.

"And my husband? He wasn't as much of a man as I had hoped I would get. He would sit watching sports, or bitch endlessly about his office. That's it. Years and years of a one-sided conversation. If the kids needed something, I handled it. If something broke, I fixed it. I paid the bills, kept the house, and worked every day. And if I dared to complain, or try to talk about myself, I would get railroaded about how sensitive I was being. He could be a real smooth talker, a charmer, when he wanted to be. But then he would change on a dime. Little quips about my weight, or how what I was doing was wrong or embarrassing. No matter what I did, I was never quite good enough. He never hit me, but he always knew just what to say to keep me in line." She paused, taking another drink of her wine, then continued; leaving the glass on the coffee table. "He was hit by another car on the freeway. It was raining and the other guy was a little drunk. Part of me knows I should have cried when he died, but I never did. And I'll be damned if I ever will."

He pulled his hand out of hers, and gently wrapped his arm around her, pulling her into his chest. "I had been looking at farms for sale on a lark. I kept looking at this one, all broken down and clearly unwanted. When I saw a job opening at the court I jumped for it, didn't think I would get it. But I did. And here I am..." she swept her arm around at the room "...in my dream home, that is falling down around my ears. With a good man who doesn't treat me like an ignorant piece of trash. And I'm... learning to make friends; mostly with my ladies at work. Unless the boss is around, and then we have to stop with the dick jokes. He hates dick jokes. Does that answer your question?"

He nodded and grunted again, then gave her a little kiss on her head. "So, since we're on the topic of uncomfortable situations, can I ask you a question?"

She heard him swallow before replying; "I suppose."

"Why have you never dated another woman since your 20's?" She felt him go stiff around her, and he shifted in his seat. She chewed on her lips for a moment, unsure how to continue. "I'm sorry, it's just that you hardly ever talk about yourself."

"Ain't really nuthin' to say. Most of my life's been followin' Merle's lead and tryin' to keep his ass out a hot water. I wasn't nobody. Never been anybody that woman be willin' ta date."

"But there must have been woman through the years..."

"Trashy waitresses, bar flies. Only ever good for a one night stand or hungry enough to have me buy um a meal."

"You're telling me nobody ever wanted to date you? I find that really fucking hard to believe."

"S'true. Nobody ever cared to pick me apart like you did. Sept..." He let the word trail off.

"So you have had a girlfriend before." She chewed at her lip, uncertain that she wanted the answer.

He shook his head and finished off his second beer. "Was a long time ago. Don't even matter now."

"Well why not?"

"She's dead." He spoke so softly that she barely even heard him.

"If you don't want to tell me, it's alright."

"No, I guess..." he sighed again. "Her name was Beth. You two would have liked each other. Woulda' been friends. Two of ya look totally different though; she was skinny as a rail and had yellow hair. I was always buyin' her milkshakes, tryin' to get her ta thicken up a little. She was my first, ya know? First girlfriend, first lay."

He rubbed his nose, and perhaps his eye as well; she couldn't tell, she tried to look away to make him feel less awkward. "I was 22, she was 19 when we met. Only dated for about a year. Her family hated me, but she didn't care none. She was... light. Happy. She was always singin' and laughin'. I don't..." He paused and sniffed his nose. "Anyway, we was at a party and got in this big fight, and she left with another dude who was supposed to take her home. She disappeared, and everyone would have blamed me, but I was there all night drunk as shit, bitchin' to all her friends about her leaven'. Some hunters found her about a year later, dumped out in the woods. They caught the guys that did it, and they ain't ever gettin' out of jail. But it was jus' never the same after that. Like when my mom died in that fire, like neither one of em was ever really real." He wiped at his face again with the back of his hand.

She wrapped her free arm around his thick chest, burying her face in his side. "I'm so sorry you went through that." She didn't know what else to say, and she knew he probably needed a little space to pull himself back together. "I'm going to get you another beer." He had his hand up again over his face, so she got up quickly and took extra time in the kitchen.

May handed him his beer and plopped back down on the couch next to him, holding a small pillow to her back. When he gave her a funny look, she piped up. "It's a hot pad for my back. Back cramps are one of those 'fun' extras I get every month."

"Ya want me ta..." He took a quick drink off the bottle before putting it down on the coffee table, then spun his finger at her to turn around. She looked at him a little quizzical, but did so. His fingers started to work into the tight muscles at her shoulders. She grabbed a couple of pillows from the couch and tucked them under her chest, laying half way down on the couch.

"You are now officially the best man on the planet."

"Watch yur' movie." He grunted, but she could tell he was smiling. She hit play again on the remote, the girl on the screen briefly flickering back to life before dying on film. He was glad she was distracted; he needed a moment. He was still working on the information she had trusted to him, and his own memories that had flooded him. He had never meant to bring up Beth; to May or anyone ever again. Beth had come as close as he ever had to love. He wasn't sure she had ever felt the same about him. He had been more intense when he was younger; angrier too. They had challenged each other, pushed each other's buttons, in good and bad ways. He had mellowed so much since then, felt so much better about himself. But that last bit probably had more to do with the pretty brunette he was currently rubbing his hands all over. At first she had seemed so perfect, so untouchable. But now... He worked his thumbs down to her lower back and she moaned and gave him a thumbs up. He gave her a simple back rub and she acted like he had handed her the world on a silver platter. It couldn't be that easy- could it? That was what women wanted? Back rubs and junk food? She had what everybody ever said that women wanted; and ditched it for a leaky home in rural Georgia. Maybe it was just her. Maybe he had just gotten lucky that a country girl had figured out she wasn't a city girl after all; and somehow she was letting him tag along for the ride.

She was unconsciously chewing on her cuticles when suddenly her hand pointed at the screen. "Oooo. Oooo. Watch this disemboweling- it's the best!"

He shook his head and chuckled a little. "She's a weird little shit- but she's my..." He stopped thought, taking a deep drink off his beer instead. Best not run with that idea. Best to just let sleeping dogs lie.

She reached around, pulling her hair around behind her head. It revealed the scoop of her neck; the soft, pale skin beckoning him in flickering light of the screen. He reached up, moving a few lose strands into the pile of hair behind her head, but the contact was nowhere near enough. Touching her soft, wavy strands had only made it worse. He wanted her so badly he could feel it like cold seeping into his joints; crisp and aching. He cleared his throat and went back to working on her tight muscles. He kept going until the end of her movie, then told her he should go.

They walked out on the porch, the night cool; sounds of wildlife playing out around them. He stood on the ground to meet her eyes from the porch."I'ma be late tomorrow, won't be in until the afternoon." She raised her eyebrows, but he wouldn't go into it. "Don' worry about it, just got ta' get something personal done."

She placed her hands on his shoulders, rubbing her palms on soft leather of his vest. He was getting shifty, so she decided it best to change the subject. "You want to go to the carnival with us? I wouldn't ask, but you are probably the only chance those boys have for winning a prize."

"You don't got no aim?"

Her fingers threaded behind his neck, and she chuckled. "Not really. I might be able to hit the broad side of a barn, but not much else. And the boys are a little too short to do that well."

"I suppose." His voice was soft and he was starting to lean a little towards her, his voice soft and sweet.

"My hero once again." She smiled sweetly, leaning a little towards him as well, batting her eyelashes. "Then I'll see you tomorrow afternoon?"

"Yeah." She closed the gap between them, kissing him easily. She felt the muscles under her fingers stay soft, and she had a little moment of triumph over his growing ease. She tipped her head to the side and deepened the kiss, teasing his lips with her tongue. He opened his mouth to her and they connected softly, languidly, knowing that it would go no further then this moment. His hands came up timidly, his fingers finally resting on her waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him into her body, then pulled out of the kiss to look intently at his face. "God you have beautiful eyes." She whispered, brushing his hair back. "Bluer than a summer sky."

He looked down, clearly embarrassed. "Stop it."

"Suit yourself. But I think you're hot, and I'm entitled to my opinion." He looked away and off to the side with nothing but a grunt. His vest and shirt slipped a little, leaving the hollow of his throat uncovered on one side. She gave him a wet little kiss there, causing his breath to hitch. She made a little mental note of that spot and addressed him again. "I'll see you tomorrow." He nodded with a soft 'goodnight' and they parted ways.