"Shoes."
"Yes, shoes. Where did Mommy put her shoes?"
Carol was tearing apart her bedroom looking for the shoes she always wore to work. She glanced up at Sophia, suspicious of her gap-toothed smile.
"Did you hide Mommy's shoes?" she asked, tickling the bottom of her daughter's pudgy little foot.
Sophia just giggled, obviously not planning to be of any help.
Right on cue, the doorbell rang. Sighing, she scooped Sophia up off her bed and padded to the front door, hastily attempting to tame her hair with one hand along the way.
She peeked through the peephole and saw it was Daryl, right on time. She'd expected him to just sit out at the curb and honk his horn but here he was, standing on her doorstep under the yellow porch light and clumsily running his hand over his hair in his own vain attempt to smooth down a cowlick.
She smiled and opened the door, "Hey!"
"Hey," he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"This is Sophia," she told him, proudly hoisting the little girl up on her hip. "What do you say to Daryl, Sophia?"
"Shoes," Sophia told him gravely, kicking out her chubby leg to wiggle her bare toes at him.
He looked up at Carol, obviously puzzled, and she had to laugh, "That seems to be her word of the day."
"Oh," he nodded somberly. "Yeah, shoes."
Sophia made grabby hands at him but Carol figured Daryl probably wasn't prepared to juggle a toddler.
"Let me just give her to my mom," she told him, glancing down at her own bare toes, "and find my shoes and I'll be ready to go. You can come on in and wait on the couch if you want."
"Shoes," Sophia told him once more, looking at him over Carol's shoulder to point at her toes again.
Carol glanced back to find Daryl peering at her little girl as though he'd never seen one before, "I guess you didn't have any little sisters, huh?"
"Nope. It was just me and Merle."
"I guess you two were probably more than enough."
He snorted at that and she motioned to the worn out couch in front of their flickering television set.
"Have a seat," she told him. "I'll hurry."
He made himself as comfortable as he could between Sophia's dolls and she went looking for both her shoes and her mother. The shoes were found, after another lengthy search, to be wedged under her bed and her mother was found to be in the kitchen, heating up some Spaghetti-O's for Sophia's supper.
"I'll just put Soph in her highchair," she told her mother, "Daryl's here so I need to get going."
Her mother looked over at her, raising a brow, "Don't I get to meet the young man first?"
"Mom, it's not a date," Carol sighed, pressing a kiss on Sophia's forehead as she settled her into the chair. "He's just giving me a ride to work."
"Everything has to start somewhere," Carol's mother retorted with a smile and Carol rolled her eyes, hoping Daryl hadn't overheard their conversation.
"Oh and Carol?"
Carol stopped in the doorway, feeling not unlike a moody teenager.
"You might want to take a look in the mirror before you go out there."
"Again, Mom, it's not a date," Carol sighed. "I know it's been a long time since a guy came by to pick me up for anything but it's still just a ride to work."
"Fine," her mother replied, turning back to the stove as Carol turned to leave again. "But either way, you have a dust bunny in your hair."
She could feel Daryl's eyes on her.
Carol was singing along with his old Lynyrd Skynyrd tape, watching through the window as the sun sank slowly behind the trees and houses along the road. Every now and then, she could feel him glance her way and then quickly avert his eyes when she looked over at him.
"What?" she finally asked when the curiosity got to be too much. "Do I have something in my hair?"
"What?"
"Do I have something in my hair?" she repeated, flipping down the visor to peer into the tiny, grubby mirror. "I had a dust bunny hiding in there earlier."
"Oh. Uh, no," he answered, "No, you're good."
She ran her fingers through her hair, fluffing up her curls a little, and felt his eyes on her again as she pushed the visor back into place.
"Your little girl is real cute," he said stiffly, like he wasn't sure if it was the right thing to say.
She smiled at him but he was firmly focused on the road, "Thanks. She is pretty cute, isn't she?"
"She looks like her mama."
Her eyebrows nearly hit her hairline, "Well aren't you smooth, Mr. Dixon?"
His ears went a little red and she decided it was adorable. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen a man blush before, especially a man like Daryl Dixon.
As they neared the club, she saw him squinting at something up ahead. Turning to look through the windshield, she saw the manager and a few of the girls standing out in the parking lot around her Cherokee.
"What the hell?" Daryl murmured, turning into the lot and pulling into a spot just a few spaces over from hers.
The girls stepped out of the way when they noticed she'd arrived and only then did she see what they'd all been staring at.
Her Cherokee had four flat tires. Four slashed tires to be exact.
She heard Daryl curse under his breath as he came around the truck to stand next to her.
Katie met her eyes and looked pointedly between the tires and Daryl, "Damn, it looks like you and Little D must have pissed somebody off big time!"
Carol just stared at the sagging rubber, too stunned to correct Katie's assumption. She supposed she should feel lucky that it was just her tires; after all, Ed knew where she lived. But she didn't feel very lucky. Buying four new tires was going to put a real hurting on her savings.
She squeezed her eyes shut, imagining the typing classes she'd wanted to take flying right out the window.
She heard Daryl muttering something about the show being over and opened her eyes to find everyone slowly drifting away, heading back inside to get ready for the evening ahead.
When the parking lot was quiet again, she leaned back against the side of Daryl's pickup and rubbed her temples as she tried to calculate exactly how much Ed's little outburst was going to cost her.
Daryl leaned back next to her, arms crossed over his chest and his voice low, "What a fucking bastard."
Carol nodded slowly, "You have no idea."
He shot her a curious look but she just shook her head. This wasn't the time or the place to dredge up her past with Ed even if it was staring her right in the face.
"My brother has a buddy with a garage. I can give him a call when we go inside if you want," he offered, kicking at the loose rocks on the asphalt. "He can probably give you a pretty good deal."
She looked over at him, taking a deep breath to calm herself. Those words seemed to lift a little of the weight off of her shoulders. Sure, the offer was helpful but it was the kindness behind the words that comforted her most of all. Daryl Dixon was turning out to be quite a friend and she couldn't think of anything she needed more at the moment.
"That would be great if you don't mind."
Daryl nodded and pushed himself away from the truck but she caught his wrist before he could leave. He froze, looking down at her hand and then up to her eyes.
"Thank you. For everything," she told him, still trying to reign in the emotions that were tumbling around inside of her like loose change in a washing machine. "You've been so helpful with all of this."
Daryl just nodded that brisk nod of his and turned to head inside without another word. And after one last look at her ruined tires, she followed him.
"Hey."
Carol nearly jumped out of her skin as someone standing just behind her spoke right into her ear. She balanced out her tray just in time, narrowly avoiding splashing beer all over one of their regulars.
"Sorry about that, sir," she told him, carefully setting his drink down on the table before she turned to face Daryl.
He grimaced and she touched his elbow, smiling to reassure him, "Hey, what's up?"
He followed her back to the bar, keeping close to be heard over the music, "Donnie's on the door tonight. I told him to keep an eye out for that asshole. He said he's got it covered."
Carol stopped short and Daryl nearly stumbled into her as she turned to face him with a smile, "Really? That makes me feel so much better."
"I told him the guy would be easy to spot. He's probably still limping," Daryl snorted, the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"That's great," she told him, reaching out to squeeze his arm, "I feel like all I've done is thank you lately but...I don't know what I'd do without you right now."
He ducked his head but she saw that smile spreading out across his lips, "It's nothing. Better get back to work."
She nodded, tucking her tray under her arm as she watched him move through the crowd. One of the dancers caught him before he'd gone three steps, motioning toward the back rooms where the private dances took place.
Daryl nodded and squared his shoulders, cutting a pretty imposing figure as he headed off to take care of the problem. She only realized she was still staring after him when he turned and glanced back at her over his shoulder, quickly looking away when their eyes met.
She looked away too and shook her head, trying to keep her hands busy as she struggled to pin down exactly what she was feeling. Between the lingering threat of Ed's wrath and the constant warmth of Daryl's kindness, she felt as though she'd been on a roller coaster for the last twenty four hours.
But whatever she was feeling right now, it had her smiling.