AN: Here we go, another little chapter moving us along.
I just wanted to remind everyone that this story is for entertainment value. I've done some research on these things, but nothing thorough and extensive. That means that I don't pretend this to be absolutely factual. It's meant to entertain. Suspension of disbelief is required and appreciated.
I hope you enjoy the chapter! Let me know what you think!
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Carol was completely out, but Daryl couldn't sleep. He hadn't said anything at all about the child and his new information because he had no idea what to say.
It wasn't exactly fair to say they'd all been living a lie, but they'd certainly all been living by omission. Believing the baby was dead, it just seemed like it would be unnecessary stress on her to tell Carol that she'd had a child and that she'd lost it.
So they'd simply chosen not to give her that information. They'd just decided that leaving it alone and dealing with it if she were ever to remember anything about it would be best.
And now Daryl was feeling surer and surer that this hadn't been the best idea at all.
There was no telling how Carol was going to react to any of this. If he chose to try to do something about the child, that meant that Carol was going to have to face, all at the same time, the fact that she'd had a child, the fact that she'd been forced to give it up, the fact that she was getting it back but it was very nearly grown and she'd missed its life, and the fact that everyone knew about the situation before except her.
But, if Daryl didn't do anything about the child then he'd have to live with the guilt of knowing that Carol's child…Carol's daughter…was possibly living a much less than ideal life and he had been the one to make the decision, alone, that it would be that way…that keeping Carol from knowing everything was more important than the girl's well-being.
And if Carol ever did remember the child? How could he ever admit that he'd known it was alive, known how to find the girl, and had chosen for her that she would never know anything of her daughter?
Daryl eased out of the bed and made his way to the sewing room that Carol practically lived in. He pulled the footlocker from under the table in the corner and picked the key for it out of its hiding place on the top shelf of the bookcase that was loaded down with just about everything that they had no other place for in the house.
Carol had never tried to go into the footlocker, and she really had no need to desire access to it. It was filled with documents, as far as she knew, of little importance to her without Daryl around. They were simply personal documents for the both of them…a safe place where he would always know where everything was in the case that they needed them.
He unlocked it and dug out what he needed. A white envelope that he'd taken out of her file so very long ago.
He'd read the letter only once or twice before and tucked it away. The child that it was written to would never read it, or so he thought, simply because that child no longer existed.
My precious little darling,
I can only hope that you'll read this one day and that you'll forgive me, though I'm not worthy of your forgiveness. I must try, though, to explain to you why it is that I can't be your mother even as I enjoy the feeling of having you so close to me for just a little while more.
I love you even though I'm forbidden to love you. This is not your fault and it has never been your fault. It is because of the shame that I brought on your father that I cannot keep you. It is for the best that I let you go because you're forever going to be stained with my shame if you stay with me. I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry for so many things, but for that most of all.
The only chance that I can give you to be free from that is to give you a life where you are free from me and you are the child of a deserving mother.
I know that you will be perfect and precious. I know that your parents will love you enough that you will never miss me. This won't make me sad. It means that you love those that you are with and that you are loved, so you must never worry about me. I promise you, though, that I will think of you often. You will always be in my heart.
Your father and I are not married yet. To keep you would be to bring shame to your father and his entire family and without your father I wouldn't be able to care for you. I wouldn't even be able to care for myself. So, you see, I have no choice. I have no choices at all. The best that I can do for us both is to let some nice family have you.
I hope that you have a mother and a father that love you as much as I do and as much as I wish that I could show you. I hope that one day you can forgive me.
I will love you forever,
Your mother, Carol Ann McAlister
Daryl folded the letter back up and returned it to its envelope. He sat back in the green, straight back chair and pressed his fingers into his eyes.
If the child were happy with its life, it would change things considerably, but leaving her alone in a home was just as big of a sin as leaving Carol in Sunny Meadows.
That wasn't the life that sixteen year old Carol would want for her daughter, and he was sure that it wasn't the life that his wife, sleeping in the other room, would want for any child that she had or might ever have.
She wanted them to have a life filled with love. She wanted them to have a full life with a good family. And when the baby had been born, fourteen years ago, she didn't have that to offer the child.
But they had that now. They could offer this girl…Sophia…love if nothing else. They could offer her a family and a home.
Daryl knew what he had to do, even if he had no idea how to make it work.
"Daryl?" Carol called, her voice thick.
"Yeah? Comin'," Daryl responded.
"What's wrong? Are you OK?" Carol called.
"Fine," Daryl said. "Go back ta sleep…I'm just…I'm comin'…go back ta sleep."
He returned the letter to the footlocker and returned the key and the footlocker to their normal places before he switched off the light and headed back to bed, curling his body around Carol's warm body as she faded back off to sleep, comforted just to know that he was fine and coming back to bed.
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"Yeah…my name's Daryl Dixon," Daryl told the woman. "I'm supposed ta have an appointment with Martha Jean Hewitt."
The woman smiled and offered a hand to Daryl.
"I'm Mrs. Hewitt," the woman said. "I talked to Mr. Dewitt earlier about the fact that you're seeking adoption?"
"Yes ma'am," Daryl said. "He said that I could come on down here an' meet with you when he called back…said I could see you about the whole thing? Fill out some papers or whatever I gotta do…pay somethin' I guess?"
"All of that comes later, Mr. Dixon," Mrs. Hewitt responded. "We'll need to visit your home…meet with you and your wife. What age range were you looking at adopting? I can tell you that currently there are waiting lists for adopting infants."
Daryl cleared his throat and shook his head.
"No ma'am…I ain't lookin' ta get no infant," he said. "Well…not right now…but right now I'm lookin' for a specific kid. I'm looking for Sophia McAlister. She's fourteen years old an' it's gotta be her. You see…my wife's…her mother."
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"It shouldn't be a problem, after the home visit, for you take temporary custody of Sophia," Mrs. Hewitt declared as she walked through the hallway with Daryl. "There's no need for the child to remain here while we're taking care of all the legal work…"
Daryl was only half listening at this point. He'd already called Carol and told her that something had come up and he was going to be late because it had taken him hours to get this far…much longer than he'd expected.
He'd assumed, somehow, that they'd simply "return" the child…he hadn't really thought far enough ahead to imagine that there might be a good number of hoops to jump through…nor that he was going to have to subject Carol to a "home visit" tomorrow that she knew nothing about yet.
Still, he reminded himself that he was doing the best thing that he could do…and he had to have faith that somehow the rest would work itself out.
"I think I'd just like ta see her…for now," Daryl said.
"Certainly," Mrs. Hewitt said.
Daryl followed the woman through another door and into something of a play area. There were more children there than he had imagined he'd find there, all engaged in some sort of activity, and most of them turned to observe this male stranger coming with the woman who was…as Daryl thought of it…the manager of their house.
Daryl skimmed over the children, trying to imagine what Carol's daughter might look like…what she might sound like…what she might think of him.
And he knew her the moment his eyes found her.
Because Alice was right. She did look like Carol, and she was sitting off to the side, reading a book, her legs curled up under her. She hadn't so much as looked up when they'd come through the door.
He leaned close to Mrs. Hewitt.
"That's her," he said. "That's her over there…with the book."
"That's her," Mrs. Hewitt said with a nod of her head. "Sophia's a sweet girl. She can be a bit quiet and reserved. I must say that sometimes I think that's why she hasn't ever made the best impression on some of the people who've come here. They like the well behaved children, but the slightly more…outgoing…children get the most attention. And of course, boys are preferred."
Daryl cleared his throat and tried to swallow down the lump so that it might make its way down to his churning stomach.
Part of him wanted to simply snatch the girl up at this very moment and take her home with him. He wanted to assure her that this wasn't where she was supposed to be…it was never where she was supposed to be…but the other part of him knew that it was better that they had to wait until after the home visit.
He still had no idea what he was going to say to Carol…or how he was going to explain the fact that he'd gone, without waiting for her word on the matter, to start an adoption on a child for them…and it wasn't a baby after all.