A.N. Spring Break is almost upon me… which means midterms are happening right now. I'm CRAZY busy. I still am making time to write, usually in the evening after I get done studying, but I'm not sure how good the chapters are.
So I pose this question to you: would my faithful readers prefer chapters sooner and have them not be as good as I could make them, or wait until spring break so I can write some awesome chapters?
Just something to mull around in your head for a while. Lemme know in the review section!
It was a work of art, truly.
The front of the house was positively disgusting. Using the deer carcass, they effectively turned the paneling into a horror house. There were deep gashes from their knives, blood spatter and smearing, and dirt caking much of the siding.
"It's beautiful," Beth said, wiping her filthy hands on the grass underneath her. Daryl gave her a look, much like the one from earlier. "It's a joke." He shrugged and headed toward the house. The sun had begun to dip low in the sky, and they were both hungry.
After cleaning up the blood that was in the front hall, Beth got started on dinner.
"Did you want me to attempt to cook that venison, Daryl?" she asked as he brought it up from the basement. By now, the refrigerator had had enough time to get cold, and last night while Daryl had been out, she had cleaned it out so it didn't smell putrid anymore. He put the deer meat in the freezer, but left one slab out.
"You're not grossed out by it?" he asked, setting it on the glass cutting board. Beth laughed.
"Of course not. Otis used to bring home deer all the time before y'all showed up at the farm." It had been a long time since Beth had thought on Patricia and Otis. The memories brought tears to her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away so Daryl wouldn't notice. She didn't want him thinking she was even weaker than he already did.
Beth busied herself with supper to take her mind off of the farm. There was a can of diced potatoes, and as she rifled through the cabinets, she found a shaker of rosemary and garlic. Perfect.
She diced the venison with a serrated knife, and put it in the hot sauté pan with the rosemary and some olive oil she'd found in the cabinet with the spices. As it browned, she threw a look over at Daryl, who was sitting at the table, looking over the map.
"How long until we're ready to leave here?" she asked conversationally, pushing the cubes of deer around the pan.
"We have another coupla days of gatherin' supplies, so maybe in a week."
"What are we gonna do with all the venison, if we're only gonna be here for a week?"
"It's salted up real nice. The last day before we leave I'll tan it an' turn whatever's left into jerky. It'll last for a good long while."
When the venison was nearly cooked, Beth added the diced potatoes, along with some pepper and the garlic. The fragrant rosemary filled her nostrils and she sighed contentedly. How nice it was to eat real, home cooked food again.
Daryl tried to concentrate on mapping out a route for them to take, but he found he couldn't do much of anything besides watch Beth flit around the kitchen in those godforsaken jeans that made her ass look like a peach while she hummed to herself.
Stop, Daryl. Quit yer starin'. It's not gonna do ya any good except… yep, that. He felt his pants tighten.
"Damn it," he muttered.
"What?" Beth asked. He spluttered for a minute, not knowing what to say.
"Oh, uh, nothin'. Was just thinkin'."
"What were you thinkin' about" she questioned innocently.
"That ain't your business, sweetheart." She looked visibly upset, but did not press the matter further. "What are you hummin'?" he asked, trying to take his mind off his hard-on.
"My sophomore year of high school, we had auditions to sing a solo in the choir concert… I beat out a bunch of seniors. I'm just hummin' the song I sang. It's a song from a Broadway show called 'Sunset Boulevard'." That, surprisingly, sparked recognition in his brain.
"That a movie, too?"
Beth nodded. "Yeah, but I've never seen it. I don't think they used any of the music."
"My momma use'ta watch those types o' shows when she was drinkin'. Merle use'ta make fun o' me fer watchin' with her, but momma liked the comp'ney."
She nodded and smiled smally.
"That food smells about done, sweetheart." Beth nodded and took it off the burner. The venison smelled outstanding married with the rosemary and garlic. She found two shallow bowls and spooned the meal into them before bringing them with forks over to the table.
Daryl was about to dig in when he felt her hand on his. She had her head bowed.
"Dear God, thank you for the day you've given us. Let this food be nourishing and give us the energy to head north. God, look after Maggie and Glenn and Judith, and all the others who are separated from us. Protect Daryl and me in the days to come. Amen."
"Uh, Amen," Daryl repeated slowly. They ate quietly for the first few minutes before Daryl couldn't take it any longer. "D'you really think the big man upstairs is still up there?"
Beth laughed. "Of course I do. God is God, he's not goin' nowhere."
"If God is still watchin' us, why is the world the way it is?" he retorted.
"Daryl, if God wasn't still watchin' over us, we'd be dead already. I know it's not easy to have faith, but this is His plan." she replied evenly. "I wish I had Daddy's Bible; it's probably burnt to a crisp at the prison by now…" He watched her absently rub her scar.
Daryl remembered that day, the day after Sophia came out of the barn… Beth had slit her wrist pretty bad, trying to kill herself. He remembered thinking she was the dumbest person he'd ever encountered. To her credit, since then, she'd fought hard to live.
There was just something about her, something that made him notice. She was pretty, sure. Shit, he'd go so far as to say she was beautiful (if he was in the habit of calling women beautiful, which he wasn't). But there was something else, something he couldn't explain.
He realized she was watching him watching her, and quickly looked down at his food.
"God brought me to you," she whispered so quietly, he wasn't sure he heard it right.
The sun was finally set, so they cleaned up the kitchen after dinner, and shut the lights out. They went upstairs into the back part of the house, where they could have the lights on without attracting scads of attention.
"I got to shower first last night; you go ahead tonight." Beth said with a smile. "I'm gonna go through the girl's room and pack up some clothes." Daryl nodded and went into the master bedroom, towel in hand. Beth, on the other hand, entered the girl's room and found a purple Prada suitcase under the full sized bed.
By the time Beth heard the water shut off, she had folded and packed five pairs of jeans, five long sleeved shirts, twice as many tanktops and teeshirts, a couple pairs of shorts, plus most of the socks and underwear she'd found. In the top drawer, under the socks, she had found an unopened box of condoms. They wouldn't expire for another six months.
Stealthily, Beth stowed them in the suitcase as well. As she was exiting the room, she noticed a bookshelf full of classics; the girl had excellent taste. She grabbed a handful of books and headed into the master suite with the suitcase. Daryl was, she assumed, in the closet getting changed, because there were wet footprints leading over into it.
"I'm taking mine now," she called, throwing the books on the bed and resting the suitcase against the wall.
When Beth exited the bathroom, towel wrapped tightly around her body, she found Daryl sitting up against the bed wearing sweatpants and another wife beater, reading one of the books she'd put on the bed. The spine read 'Of Mice and Men'.
"Always liked this one… sort of made me think o' me an' Merle." Beth suppressed a snort.
"Don't you think that's kinda messed up?" she asked. He looked up at her; he was wearing reading glasses. That made her lose her composure. It was too much.
"The hell you laughin' at?" he asked angrily. "The only thing that's messed up is that you're still standin' there in a towel that barely covers your ass!" She merely stuck her tongue out at him and flitted out of the room. She found the girl's pajama drawer, and after putting on a pair of nude cotton boyshorts, she pulled on a pair of yoga shorts and a floral camisole.
Beth returned, closing the door behind her. She tiptoed over to the bed and pulled the book she wanted from the pile.
"What'd you pick?" Daryl asked. She felt herself blush.
"It's called 'Lolita' by Vladimir Nabokov." She replied, her voice catching slightly in her throat.
"Never heard of it," he replied, to her relief. Her relief turned to ash in her mouth when he asked, "What's it about?"
"Well… it's about a man that marries a woman to… get closer with her daughter… who's a preteen."
Daryl appraised the book with judgment.
"It's a classic!" Beth explained hastily. "It got banned from school, but Daddy thought we all should be well read, and it's usually the banned ones that are the best." He just shook his head.
"Ain't nothin' 'classic' about likin' little girls," he said. Beth got the feeling he wasn't just talking about the novel.
She was getting really tired of all the awkward silence.