Hello my lovely readers. I apologise profusely for the delay in updating, but December is as hectic and time-poor as always. Please be patient with me! I'm hosting Christmas for my entire family this year (that's 28 people in total), so I'm running around like a headless chook most days. I hope that you enjoy this, and I want to thank all of you for continuing to support me via reading, reviewing and favouriting this story. I wish all of you a safe and happy holiday season.

Two weeks later

"Okay, so I can't say that I've been to many weddings before, but I'm fairly certain you ain't supposed to serve deer jerky to the guests," Maggie giggled into her coffee at the kitchen table.

Beth glanced up from the pile of old bridal magazines she had taken from a department store on their latest run. They had been heavy to carry all the way back, but Daryl had agreed on the condition that they would be used as kindling once the wedding was over. She agreed wholeheartedly. She was a practical woman, after all. Her slim hand was poised with a highlighter over a page displaying a variety of bridal bouquets, from delicate while lilies to garish multicolored collections of hibiscus flowers bundled together with twine.

"Deer jerky is all we have, Maggie. And I believe the term "guests" is a small overstatement," Grace replied, rubbing at her eyes before resuming her job of assisting Beth with the scouring of bridal magazine for inspiration.

"Of course, let me re-check our guest list. Hmm, Maggie, Glenn, Grace, Sophia. Let's not forget that lonely Walker that keeps dragging himself around the front yard. Although he hasn't RSVP'd yet, so I'd put him on the 'maybe' list," Maggie pretended to appraise the list with disapproval.

"Very funny, Mags. You are the most entertaining maid of honor I've ever known," Beth laughed at her sisters shocked expression at the title.

"I'm your maid of honor? Wow. I wasn't expecting this. It's all so sudden," she stammered theatrically.

"In that case, we'd better get the other jobs sorted," she continued, reaching for her list once more.

"What jobs?" Beth enquired with curiosity. She'd only ever been to one wedding before. It was a girl from their Church who married young to her high school sweetheart. It was a beautiful event, and Beth couldn't help the tears that fell from her eyes when she saw the bride walking down the aisle all dressed in white lace.

"You know, the wedding party. It's going to be a simple process of elimination. I'm the maid of honor, Glenn will be the best man, Grace will be a bridesmaid, which leaves Sophia-" Maggie cocked her head to the side as she mentally listed the roles available in their tiny wedding party.

"Sophia is the flower girl, I guess," she drew a bright pink tick next to Sophia's name and sat back with a grin of approval on her face.

"Oh, if only-" Grace started, before she cut herself off, eyes downcast towards the tabletop.

"What's wrong?" Beth lay her hand atop Grace's in a soothing manner. Despite her concerns about the difficulty of planning a wedding when your own husband had been killed, Grace remained adamant that she lend a hand in the preparation for the day. She offered to lend a hand in just about every job. She was good like that. A team worker. Somebody who pulled their own weight.

"Nothing. I was going to say… but then I forgot that she… don't worry," she stammered, closing the bridal magazine and tossing it into the pile of magazines that Maggie had labelled "kindling" with a post-it note.

"You can say. It's okay," Beth urged gently, smiling sweetly up at her.

"I just wish my daughter was here. Isabella. She would have loved the chance to be a flower girl. On the last Christmas we had together, my husband bought her a ballerina dress. She would wear it almost every day, and she'd say that she was a flower girl for hire, just in case any bride in Senoia needed one. She wanted to be prepared," Grace was smiling, but Beth could see the pain in her eyes.

"I grew roses in our front yard. Isabella would always trample across the garden beds in her pink boots and pick all of the prettiest roses for her bouquet. It made me so angry. I loved her, of course, but I would always tell her off. I regret that now," she finished, blinking rapidly to clear the tears that were threatening to cloud her vision.

"She was young, it's what little girls do," Maggie chimed in with a gentle smile, reaching across the small table to squeeze Grace's shoulder.

"I'm sorry if I upset you," Beth added, hoping that Grace wasn't regretting agreeing to her involvement in the wedding planning.

"No, don't be silly. It's about time I told you my story. If only I could decide where to begin," she reached for her coffee and took a long gulp.

"What about your husband? I want to know what he was like," Maggie offered, taking Grace's drained cup and refilling it.

"His name was Andrew. We met at college. He was studying history and economics, I was studying art and literature. We were complete opposites. My family didn't want us being together. They were racists, plain and simple. Anyway, I cut my parents out of my life and we were married one year later."

"That must have been hard," Beth pushed aside the magazines that covered the tabletop to listen properly to Grace's story.

"It sounds that way, but it really wasn't. Andrew and I were the best team. We bought a house together, had jobs we enjoyed, life was pretty damn easy. Then we had Isabella. Andrew's parents lived a few blocks away, so we always had support."

Grace paused to clear her throat.

"But then I was diagnosed with post-partum depression. I started having breakdowns, and I felt guilty for feeling that way when there was nothing technically wrong with my life. I had a loving husband, a well-paid job, a healthy and beautiful daughter, yet I still hated myself. I went into therapy for a little while. Andrew was so good to me. So patient. Isabella was too young to know what was happening, thank God. She noticed that I had changed, though. I couldn't hide that from my little girl. It wasn't more than a few years later when the world got all fucked up."

"Where did you go when it started?" Beth murmured.

"We headed to Atlanta. We thought there'd be some answers there. All we found was even more confusion. So we headed into the trees. There was a few of us. Andrew brought all of his family. We lasted for a while out there, but those walkers kept picking us off one by one. Andrew had lost both his parents within a year, and suddenly there was only six of us left. I fell pregnant, and every day was the same battle to find safety by darkness. I was so afraid for what was going to happen when the baby came. I guess you know the feeling," she paused to glance over at Beth's stricken face as she blinked a tear from the corner of her eye.

"Of course. But at least I had my family here with me. We had the funeral home. You didn't have any security," Beth corrected, feeling full of empathy towards the woman on the other side of the table.

"We found a little rundown cottage towards the end. I was pretty big, about seven months or so. We thought we were safe, but Andrew had forgotten to check the cellar. There were five walkers down there, and when we went to sleep they made their way up to the living room and attacked us. I remember waking up with Andrew screaming at me, and pulling me to my feet. It didn't even register to me that I could smell blood. I was screaming for Isabella, but I couldn't hear her. I climbed up into the attic, but a zombie grabbed Andrew and pulled him down. I had to sit and watch him die in front of me." Grace trailed off, digging her fingernails into the flesh of her forearm at the pain of her memories.

"My water broke about an hour later. I knew I was in labor, but I couldn't do anything for my baby. I gave birth that night. I named her Lily. She didn't take a single breath. I stayed in the attic with her until the walkers finally wandered off. When I climbed back down, I saw what was left of Isabella. I wrapped Lily in my scarf and laid her next to her sister. I've lost track of how many weeks or months I spent walking through the woods. I barely ate or drank. I couldn't sleep without having violent nightmares. I was so close to giving up. And then – well, you guys know the rest," she trailed off, suddenly hyperaware that she had probably provided a little too much detail.

Maggie and Beth remained frozen across the table from her, mouths agape as they struggled to process her story.

"Fuck," Maggie finally breathed, while Beth let out a small sob.

"That's why I can't ever put into words how grateful I am to you. You saved my life," Grace reached over to wrap her arm around Beth's narrow shoulders as they shook with the effort of withholding her sobs.

"You're part of our family now, Grace. You aren't alone anymore," Maggie soothed her gently, letting Grace's head fall onto her shoulder as she hastily wiped at her shining eyes.

"I'm okay, I'm sorry. God, I didn't mean to ruin the mood for everyone. I like this dress, Beth. You'd look gorgeous in that cut," Grace quickly switched subjects, wishing only to put the past behind her now. All of the pain and suffering she had endured was part of her old life. For the first time in recent memory, Grace felt that her future here was somewhat bright. She had new family, two women who loved and cared for her. Two men who protected and provided for them. And sweet baby Sophia. An angel in the middle of hell.

As if Sophia could somehow sense when somebody thought of her, her chubby arms immediately reached forward from her baby seat on the mat. She fussed impatiently whilst Beth hurried over to her to tend to whatever issues had arisen.

"Sorry, she's feeling a bit fussy at the moment. Can't find nothing wrong with her, she's fed and changed and warm…" Beth trailed off, hoisting Sophia to her hip and jiggling her up and down in an effort to quieten her squawks.

Grace bit her lip to hold herself back from what she was about to say. She wanted to hold her, tiny Sophia. She was one of the most beautiful children she had ever laid eyes on, and her glistening blue orbs appeared to withhold more wisdom than any infant's should. Grace glanced up long enough to see that Beth had noticed her glazed expression.

"Do you want to hold her?" Beth's voice was unsure of whatever Grace's reaction may be. This woman had just lost her children. Was it cruel to hand her a perfectly healthy, adorable bundle of joy to remind her of everything she had so violently lost? Or would it serve as some sort of comforter, to feel that baby soft skin and to smell her curly blonde hair and reminisce for the shortest of moments.

"Could I? You don't mind?" Grace's voice almost cracked at the idea.

"Course you can. Here, be careful, she's heavier than expected," Beth handed the whining Sophia over to Grace, taking notice of the automatic and reflexive motion with which she cradled Sophia against her chest, hands smoothing out her onesie and stopping to tickle her kicking feet.

She held Sophia with ease, as though she had been holding babies her entire life. Beth remembered Daryl and her awkward and fumbling first attempts at holding their baby daughter in the weeks following her premature arrival. She had seemed so fragile, so breakable that Daryl became adamant that his own work-wearied hands were too tough, too brutal for the delicate soft skin and tiny bones of his daughter.

But now, Beth would often catch Daryl with Sophia, holding her close, his nose buried in her blonde hair as she giggled and grumbled and babbled nonsensically. She would never admit that she loved intruding upon those most private moments, loved witnessing a side of Daryl that even she herself had not yet seen. He was never more himself then when he was with his daughter. Sometimes, he even sang for her. Granted, his renditions tended to be of songs that Beth would rather her daughter did not listen to, but his affections still warmed her heart.

After those initial months of anxiety, Daryl's nerves settled. He was soon comfortable enough to scoop Sophia out of her carrier with one large hand, cradling her close to his chest as he relaxed by the fire or checked the Walker alarms early each morning. The house was constantly filled with the excitable squeals of their daughter as Daryl tickled her sides, her legs dangling above the ground as he spun her around. He was a good father, scratch that, an amazing father. He had taken to fatherhood like a duck to water, and Beth was grateful each and every day that she had chosen this man to share her life with.

Now, looking across the table as Grace gently bounced Sophia in her arms, an unfamiliar silence fell around the room. Sophia was asleep. Passed out. Her tiny lashes fluttered against the tops of her cheeks as she snoozed peacefully in Grace's embrace.

"Holy crap. You're amazing," Maggie breathed in awe, catching the glow of embarrassment that flushed her cheeks at the compliment.

"No, it's nothing," she attempted to brush them off.

"Honestly, Grace. None of us can soothe her that quickly. You've got a magic touch!" Beth raised her eyebrow inquisitively, attempting to locate any secret advantage that Grace's arms had over her own.

"You know, all the parenting books say that you're supposed to cot-train your infant from a few weeks of age. Apparently it's considered 'spoiling' them if you allow them to sleep in your arms. They'll never transition into a bed. But I call bullshit on that. I let Isabelle fall asleep in my arms until she was 18 months, and we never had any difficulties training her to sleep alone!" Grace smiled, eyes flickering down every few seconds to admire Sophia.

"I'd say the world's too fucked up to worry too much about spoiling a child. Don't think Sophia's ever gonna be spoiled. She's just loved," Daryl's voice resonated throughout the kitchen as he appeared in the doorway, evidently having just overhead the latter part of that conversation.

Beth felt a breath of air escape her as she took in his appearance. He was unusually clean, his hair slicked back and dripping from his shower, which Beth was suddenly quite jealous that she wasn't invited to.

"What are your plans for today, ladies?" he enquired casually as he straddled one of the kitchen chairs and began cleaning congealed walker blood from his bolts.

Maggie suddenly jumped as she remembered the forgotten wedding magazines spread across the tabletop, and hurried to remove them from his sight.

"Damn it, Daryl. You ain't supposed to see this stuff!" she chided gently, relieved for the welcome change of subject. Daryl laughed dryly at the look of momentary panic that crossed the girl's faces.

"Ain't no secret. Unless you got an undead Vera Wang locked up in the basement sewing you a dress," ignoring the hiccup of surprise from Beth.

"You know who Vera Wang is?" the look of disbelief on Beth's face was enough to make him regret his joke. He shrugged as noncommittally as possible, attempting to dodge any sarcastic comments heading his way.

"Daryl, I'm glad you're here. I wanted to offer you guys something. For your wedding," Grace piped up as she laid Sophia back in her bouncer with a gentle ease.

"What are you talking about?" Beth enquired inquisitively as she watched Grace fumbling with something in her hands.

"Well, I can't find you a proper wedding present, and every couple deserves something special on their big day," she prefaced, watching the expression of anticipation growing on Beth's face. She grinned as she managed to pull the golden wedding band from her finger, glancing momentarily at the stark white tan mark left behind on her finger.

"What are you doing?" Beth's voice was shaky as she watched Grace wiping off the wedding band and sliding it across the kitchen table where it sat, unmoving.

"I want you to have my wedding ring."

"What! Grace, are you crazy?" Beth gasped, holding up her hands insistently in refusal of the offer. It was too much for Grace to hand over the most valuable possession she owned.

"Please, Beth. You saved my life. That wedding ring is a symbol of the love I had for Andrew, and for the amazing five years of marriage we had together. He's gone now, but the love is still there. If anyone deserves it, it's you two," she smiled, sliding the ring further along the table until it touched Beth's hand.

Her small hand accepted the ring, admiring its beauty in the morning light.

"Really, Grace, you don't have to-" Daryl started, but Grace cut him off with a nod of her head.

"I want to. I really do. Please." She sat back in her chair, folding her arms and grinning at the look of excitement on Beth's face.

"I can't just take this from you. Here, how about a swap?" Beth offered, her eyes wide as her fingers went to unclasp the necklace she wore around her neck each day.

"Are you sure?" Grace said, noticing the fondness that flashed across Beth's eyes as she fingered the charm before placing the silver chain into the woman's hand.

"I'm positive. I doubt it's worth much, but it's gotten me through some hard times," Beth smiled.

"Oh, hey, that reminds me!" Daryl suddenly recalled, his hands digging through his jeans pocket until he pulled out a small gift box. His fingers made short work of the black box, snapping it open to reveal the Cherokee Rose silver pendant inside.

"While you lot were looting bridal magazines, I was robbing a jewelry store. There wasn't much left, but I was gonna add it to your necklace, Beth," he watched the glimmer of affection in Beth's eyes as she admired the cut of the silver rose charm.

"What made you choose the Cherokee Rose?" Grace asked.

Daryl chuckled.

"It's a long story, Grace. We knew a woman, she was part of our group. She had a daughter named Sophia, who went missing. I spent weeks looking for her. All I found was a damn Cherokee Rose. It's a symbol of protection for children," his fingertip traced the outline of the charm for a moment, reminiscing.

"Well if that's the case, I think that Sophia should be the one to wear it," Grace suggested. She quickly unknotted the leather bracelet she wore around her wrist, tearing a thin strip off it and threading the charm onto it.

"Here. Maybe for around her ankle?" she handed the anklet to Daryl and watched as he bent over Sophia's crib to tie the material around one chubby ankle.

"Perfect. See, now she's safe," Grace laughed as Sophia's soft giggling filled the room as Daryl tickled the soles of her feet mercilessly.

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