AN: Here we go, another little chapter here.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
Carol felt like all her internal organs were tying and untying themselves into knots while she waited for Daryl to get back with the girl…Sophia…her daughter.
Carol wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel about everything. Daryl was acting like he was offended that she didn't want to talk with him about things…that she didn't want to discuss everything…and she felt like she couldn't discuss things with him because she wasn't even sure how she felt about things and she wouldn't have known where to begin if she'd even tried.
She loved Daryl. She loved him completely. And she'd always been thankful that he was such a good husband…that he loved her so much. It was something she'd seen and experienced every day and she knew that she was lucky. She knew that there were other women that weren't so lucky. She knew that other women didn't have husbands that treated them like they were absolutely gifts that had been given to them.
But now she almost felt like there was a part of Daryl that she didn't know at all. The part of Daryl that had kept the secret of her daughter from her was a part of him that she'd never met before.
It was a part of her that almost felt as distant and as foreign to her as the daughter that she was about to meet…
And Carol had spent much of her time since she'd learned the information coming to terms with the fact that the things she had thought were elaborate dreams or even hallucinations of being pregnant…of waiting for her child…that all of these things that she had feared were signs that she really was crazy and that her deep desire to have a baby was driving her to create images in her mind that seemed so real she could almost forget entirely that they weren't real, were probably not hallucinations at all.
They were probably her own memories…and Daryl had listened to her, on more than occasion, tell him about these visions and never had he mentioned that maybe, just maybe, they were so vivid because they were hers…they were her experiences.
She was trying to accept what kind of person she must have been, since she couldn't recall that entirely either, that she had become so crazy that she'd been put away, and so crazy that Daryl had thought it was better to never mention her child to her to avoid it.
And she simply hadn't come to terms with all of that. She wasn't even sure she'd believe it entirely now if she hadn't read the letter that she'd written to the baby, unmistakably written in her own handwriting and had, following that, a night full of even more detailed dreams than usual.
Still, though, she wasn't ready to discuss everything with Daryl. She wasn't ready to smile and nod and tell him that everything was wonderful and that she didn't hold any feelings he might like in regard to all that was happening in their lives.
While she waited for him to get there with Sophia, she fixed up the room for the girl that they'd always intended to make into a nursery. She tried to make it comfortable at least. She had no idea what a fourteen year old girl might like…she had no idea what Sophia might like.
She wondered, even as she arranged and rearranged things, what the girl might look like…what she might sound like…what she might think about everything…
If she could ever forgive Carol for what she'd done…because Carol wasn't sure that she could forgive herself for simply knowing nothing of her daughter for the first fourteen years of her life. And she was quite certain that she couldn't hold it against the girl if she absolutely hated her for it.
Maybe, she thought, that was why she didn't have children with Daryl. She certainly didn't deserve them and she certainly had proved she wasn't much of a mother. After all, she was still waiting to meet her daughter for the first time, or at least the first time that she could remember, and her daughter was very nearly fully grown…and she'd spent her entire life without her mother.
Carol was sitting down on the edge of the small bed and trying not to cry again, convinced that she didn't want her daughter's first image of her to be one where she was crying for herself when she was really the least wronged in this situation, when she heard the sound of the car pulling into the driveway…and a couple of moments later the sound of footsteps on the porch.
Carol's heart leapt up into her throat and she got up from the bed, her knees practically knocking against each other with nerves, and straightened her clothes before she started into the living room to greet them.
She sucked down a few breaths like she was trying to drink water and closed her eyes, trying to calm herself.
When the door opened, Carol could barely breathe and she could only hope that it was evident on her face. Daryl came through the door first, carrying the suitcase that he'd left with this morning, and he moved out of the way, calling in the girl.
When Sophia stepped through the door, Carol was overwhelmed.
She was overwhelmed with all the feelings that she'd been fighting and she was overwhelmed with the fact that the little girl, her head slightly ducked at the moment like she had a particular interest in her shoes, already resembled the reflection she saw in the mirror and she still couldn't clearly see the whole of her face.
"So this is ya house," Daryl said. "An'…uh…Sophia, this is Carol Ann…this is my wife…ya Ma."
Sophia looked at Daryl for a moment and then she turned her head toward Carol, their eyes meeting for the first time.
Carol chewed her lip to keep the sob that was threatening to come up inside her from escaping. She swallowed and forced the best smile she could.
This little girl…this nearly grown girl…was her daughter. And she felt terrified of her in so many ways.
"Hi…Sophia…" Carol said, almost wanting to cry because the words barely came out and even then they weren't right. Nothing would be right to say at the moment.
"Hello," Sophia offered quietly. She cut her eyes back to Daryl and then returned them to Carol.
Carol swallowed hard, trying to get past the lump in her throat.
"Would you like to see your room?" Carol asked.
Sophia nodded and Carol moved, reaching and taking the suitcase out of Daryl's hands. He started to protest, but she pulled it loose from his grasp and started toward the bedroom that she'd recently left with it.
Her mind was racing…what had Daryl told the girl? How had she reacted? What was she even thinking now?
Carol put the suitcase in the middle of the room.
"This is your room," she said to the girl who had followed her inside.
Sophia walked over to her bed and touched the quilt there before she looked at Carol.
"Thank you…it's nice," Sophia said.
"I made the quilt," Carol offered. "Years ago…and the bear? I don't know if you're too old for such things…but I thought it might keep you company. Daryl gave it to me years ago…and I thought that you might like it."
Sophia picked up the teddy bear from the bed and held it in front of her for a moment before she returned it to the spot that it had been on before.
"Thank you," she repeated.
Carol shook her head, covering her mouth with her hand…trying to remember everything she should say and not being able to remember anything in the moment. She wanted, desperately, to touch the girl…to hug her…something…but she didn't feel that she could do that and she didn't feel like she wanted to put something like that on the girl as an expectation if she wasn't ready for it.
"This is…your house," Carol said. "So…anything that you want…anything at all…just let me know or let…Daryl know...and one of us will get it for you if we don't have it. Anything…Sophia."
Sophia looked at Carol for a moment and then she nodded her head.
"Thank you," she repeated. "I don't need anything…except…"
Sophia paused and Carol took a step closer to her.
"What is it?" Carol asked.
Sophia furrowed her brow and looked like she was carefully considering her question. She looked like she wasn't certain it was going to be a question that she was allowed to ask.
"What am I to call you?" Sophia asked. "Both of you…what would you prefer that I call you?"
Carol felt her heart thundering in her chest at the posing of the question.
"What would you like to call us?" Carol asked.
Sophia sat down on the edge of her bed and contemplated it for a moment.
Carol walked a little closer to her and finally summoned up the courage to approach the bed.
"May I sit?" Carol asked.
"Of course," Sophia said, looking at her again.
Carol sat and sucked in a breath.
"Did Daryl tell you…anything about us? About me?" Carol asked.
She was suddenly wondering if she was right to believe that Daryl would have mentioned anything to the girl at all.
Sophia nodded her head, though.
"He said that…you're my Ma…" Sophia said.
The girl laughed quietly to herself and it surprised Carol at the moment.
"I suppose that means you're my mother," Sophia said.
The smile faded and she furrowed her brow again.
"My real mother?" Sophia finished.
Carol nodded her head gently.
"Yeah…" Carol said. "Yeah…I am…and…I'll answer any questions for you that you might have…or I'll try…I might not know all the answers, but I'll try."
Sophia nodded at Carol in response and offered her a "thank you".
"Do I call you my mother…or my mama? Or Ma?" Sophia asked.
Carol considered it.
"Whatever you want to call me, you can call me," Carol said. "I'm not going to tell you what to call me."
"And your husband?" Sophia asked.
"You can call him what you want as well," Carol said. "We're not going to force anything on you, Sophia. You can call us whatever makes you comfortable…and you don't have to decide right away."
Sophia nodded her head again.
"Do you need anything?" Carol asked.
Sophia shook her head.
"I'm fine," Sophia responded.
"Are you hungry? Thirsty?" Carol asked.
"I'm fine, ma'am," Sophia said. "I'd just like to…unpack maybe?"
Carol understood almost immediately what the girl was asking. It was a lot for her, and likely she just wanted a chance to take it all in. Carol couldn't even imagine what all she might be thinking and dealing with.
"I've cleared out the dresser for you," Carol said. "The closet is ready for you too. When you're ready, I could make you some nice dresses. We could look at patterns and cloth together. You could pick out what you like."
Sophia smiled.
"Thank you," she said. "I would like that, very much."
Carol stood up, still uncomfortable with going with her natural inclination to touch the girl, and walked toward the door of the bedroom.
"We have a rule here," Carol said. "We don't lock the doors. You're welcome to close your door for your privacy…but we don't lock them."
"I understand," Sophia said, standing up beside the bed.
"The bathroom is just off the living room, and the door next to it is to my sewing room," Carol offered. "There's a bookshelf in there. You're welcome to read anything there if you'd like that…and I could make something special for dinner for you if you'd like."
Sophia smiled again.
"Thank you," she said again. "Anything is fine. Anything you make will be nice."
"Fine…you take your time, unpack, get comfortable. If you need anything, will you please let me know?" Carol said.
"Yes ma'am…thank you again," Sophia said.
And Carol stepped out of the room, not sure exactly what she was feeling at the moment beyond the fact that she was concerned, more than anything, about how the girl might be feeling. She hoped that somehow she'd know how to do this and that somehow she'd know how to make this all easier and better for Sophia.
She didn't know what she was doing now…but she could hope that somehow she would just know.