AN: Here we go, another little chapter.
I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think.
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Daryl couldn't exactly say he'd had a full night's sleep, but he'd at least had a chance to think over some things. He knocked on Carol's bedroom door before he went to take his shower and get ready for work, and by the time he was dressed, she'd prepared a breakfast for him that he certainly wasn't going to argue with.
"You gotta eat too," he commented, looking through the pill bottles that he had for her and picking up the bottle that she was supposed to take pills from each day. He palmed out the pill before he pulled a knife out the drawer and cut one of them in half, dropping the extra half into the bottle again and putting it in his pocket, nervous to leave the pills around the house so he was stuck carrying them around in his pockets.
Carol brought a plate and sat at the little table and Daryl took his seat.
"Food looks good," Daryl said. "Thank you for breakfast."
Carol looked at him almost like he'd begun speaking in foreign tongues. She didn't respond, though, and he put the pills on the table to the side. He noticed her eyes flick toward them, but she didn't say anything at the moment.
"Where'd you learn to cook?" He asked.
She froze and he waited for an answer. After a moment, though, she simply shook her head at him.
"I…don't remember," she said with a shrug, filling her mouth almost immediately with a much larger bite than she typically took while eating.
But Daryl could already tell that she was lying. Two mornings with her, though, and he could already tell that she was different, at least a little different, over breakfast than she was, for instance, when he got home from work.
He had spent most of his night chewing over his new information. Hershel's story had suggested it and the doctor had confirmed it when he'd invited the man out on the porch to discuss his examination of Carol.
She'd had a child. It was official.
Daryl didn't know the details behind the child, but it was certain that she'd given birth to a child, whether it was dead or alive.
The doctor, having spoken to Daryl prior to the examination, had avoided mentioning it to Carol, and Daryl sincerely wasn't sure if she did or didn't remember anything about the baby at all.
He assumed, then, given the information that the boyfriend in question…the one so many people wished to attribute to her "delusions" had been Edward something Junior, that the child had been his…or else had been the child of some other man if his father's apparent accusations were true that she'd had an affair with some other man to fall pregnant.
But really, Daryl had realized, none of that really mattered to him in the slightest, at least not in its purest form.
He didn't really care what people thought about him…or what they said about him. And he didn't much care what they said about people that he cared about. His family had never exactly been held in the highest regard by society, and no matter what he'd ever done to try to be deemed acceptable by the people around him, he'd learned that it was impossible to please them.
And from that, he'd learned that he didn't care. There would always be someone around to criticize for something.
So if Carol had been engaged before, he didn't care. If she had a child by the man she was engaged to, and he could easily see how such a thing could happen, he wasn't concerned by that. Even if she'd had a baby by some other man…he didn't really care.
He wasn't a virgin and, even though he knew that the woman you chose to marry was supposed to come to your bed some virginal goddess, he didn't expect any level of purity from her.
The only reason that he was concerned, at this point, with figuring out what had happened to her, in fact, was because he wanted to understand what it had done to her…and really he wanted to understand what her four years at Sunny Meadows had done to her, and if he could undo whatever it was and get her to simply understand that he wasn't concerned in the slightest with any of the rest of it. He wasn't going to judge anyone for their pasts.
"Where'd you learn to cook?" He repeated.
Carol stared at her plate and he saw her shake her head slightly.
"Carol Ann…" Daryl said, forcing a bit of tension into his voice. "I asked you a question…you're supposed to answer me when I ask you a direct question. That's the only respectable way to respond to a question."
Carol looked at him, her eyes seeming a little brighter to him than usual and he wondered if it was because they were already late on her next dose of medicine…a medicine that the doctor had warned him with long term use could cause her some medical problems, but hadn't seemed to cause any damage so far.
"I'm not sure," she said, shaking her head slightly. "I learned to cook because…every wife needs to cook for her husband. She needs to cook things that he likes to eat…"
Daryl nodded his head.
He could see from her facial expression now that she wasn't lying. Before she'd been trying to lie, but now she was clearly telling the truth. She didn't fully remember, at least not right now, the details behind her culinary ability.
He cleared his throat.
"Eggs…over easy…toast…fried potatoes…sausage," he said, looking through the items on his plate. All were easy to prepare and relatively fast. "I like these just fine…but you never asked me what was my favorite breakfast. How'd you decide this was what you was gonna make?"
Carol looked at the plate, cut her eyes toward him, and then stared off over his left shoulder if he didn't know any better. She shook her head slightly.
"It's what I found in the kitchen," she said. "I thought that…since it was in there…you might have wanted it. I'm sorry…"
Daryl shook his head.
"Don't be sorry," he said. "You done good. Why eggs over easy?" He asked.
He was getting at something, but he almost didn't want to tell him where he was headed. He wanted her to figure it out for herself. He wanted her to put the pieces together…and he was certain she was capable of doing that…or at least she would be eventually.
She shook her head slightly at him again and looked back at him. He could tell from the condition of her eyes now that she was on the verge of being upset…and likely because she wanted to answer his questions but maybe truly couldn't.
"I just…it just seemed right," Carol said. "You don't like them?"
Daryl finished up what he was eating and wiped his mouth with the napkin before standing up. He reached and patted her on the shoulder and she flinched slightly, pulling away just a bit before she settled back into place.
"I like it just fine," Daryl said. "Just…if you was wonderin'…I like my eggs scrambled best."
Carol looked at him, not getting up from her chair at the moment, and nodded.
"Scrambled," she repeated. "I'll remember…"
"Good," Daryl said. He reached and picked up the pills. He offered them to her and she held them in her hand for a moment, looking at them. Daryl cleared his throat. "We're…uh…workin' a different dose for you, OK? So you gonna take this now for me, right?"
Carol nodded and swallowed the pills down with the glass of orange juice in front of her.
"Good," Daryl repeated. "Mrs. Greene's going to be here…any minute…to work, but 'member you can do whatever you want."
"Is there anything you'd like me to do?" Carol asked.
Daryl realized it might be a good idea to find her something to do.
"Tell you what…how about we see about you workin' some with Mrs. Greene? Make me somethin'?" Daryl asked.
"I'm not very good at sewing…" Carol started.
"Neither was Mrs. Greene when she started, I reckon," Daryl said. "Start small…make us some nice pot holders or somethin' for the kitchen?"
Carol nodded and smiled slightly.
"I could do that, if that's what you want," Carol said.
"That's what I want," Daryl said.
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"So…basically what I'm doin' is cuttin' her meds down," Daryl said.
He felt like he had lost his mind and he felt like the woman in front of him had all the reason in the world to call any and every authority she could to come and haul him right down to Sunny Meadows as a patient instead of an orderly.
But she was just smiling at him and nodding while he told her the slightly edited version of what was going on in his life…a story that had been easier to tell her than he'd thought it would be when he started.
"But…you just ring me and have them get me if anything…happens…or if she…" Daryl stopped and shook his head. He had no way of knowing what might happen. He surely didn't have any way of telling this woman what she might expect.
"I think I understand," Josephine Greene responded softly. "And…I think things should be fine. I'll keep an eye on her…and I'll have some down time to chat with her and she may be a very good student to learn some sewing skills. If she does well, I could always use the assistance."
Daryl sucked in a breath, somewhat relieved that she wasn't calling him insane.
"Thank you for that," he said. "I don't know if this is gonna work…but…"
"But you're going to try," Josephine said. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Yesterday she was just fine. She stayed in her room most of the time and she watched me while I worked for a while."
"She ain't talked about nothin'?" Daryl asked.
"No…she wasn't inclined to speak," Josephine responded. "But perhaps today she will be. And tomorrow even more. Don't worry about things here. I'll get in touch with you if there's something that I can't handle."
"I'ma be home as quick as I can," Daryl said. "Got a stop ta make after work, but it shouldn't take too long..."
"That's fine," Josephine responded. "Hershel won't pass by for me until he's off work…and if he arrives before you do, I'll ask him to wait until you get here."
Daryl thanked her and moved, opening the front door and gesturing for the woman to pass inside. She did and he pulled the door shut behind him, heading to work and hoping that things would only improve from here as he stepped her down from the medication and gave her more and more opportunity to think for herself.