Red River Blue
Chapter 41
Daryl groaned, lifting his arm to shield his eyes from the light that was shining in through the open flap of the tent. His head was pounding and his entire body ached like he'd been beat to hell. He groaned again, trying to convince himself that there was no way he was feeling this horrible just from the drinking he did the night before. He must have caught some sort of terrible sickness. And Daryl was halfway to justifying the need to stay in bed for the remainder of the day when the sound of someone clearing their throat quite loudly caught his attention.
Daryl lifted his arm, checking to see who made the noise and immediately wishing he hadn't. Carol was sitting in a camping chair with her legs crossed, giving him the look. The one that meant he was in deep shit. He didn't see it often. Carol was patient and slow to anger. She didn't get mad over silly stupid nonsense. Which meant that he must have been up to some serious bullshit last night. Daryl groaned again, playing up how terrible he felt and hoping for some sympathy. It wasn't much of a stretch since he actually did feel like dogshit warmed over.
Lowering his arm, Daryl scrubbed his face with his hands and tried to remember just what in the hell he'd been up to. He drank a lot. He was sure they polished off that entire bottle of tequila. And probably washed that down with beer and hard cider. The last vivid memory he had was of River laughing. River's laugh was the kind of laugh that made other people laugh even if they didn't get the joke. It was high pitched and girly. And loud. If she really got going she would start doing this ridiculous giggle snorting. And that's what she was doing. Daryl couldn't even remember what was so funny. He just remembered holding his stomach because he was laughing so hard that it hurt. But there was no reason Carol would be upset about that. She was drinking right along with them. At least while all the laughing was going on. Because when River laughed herself right out of her chair, she pulled Carol down onto the floor with her. And then they laughed about that.
"What'd I do?," Daryl asked, his voice audibly hoarse. His throat was dry and scratchy and he felt like his tongue was covered in fur. Carol lifted a bottle of water from the ground near her feet, holding it out for him. Daryl took it gratefully, gulping down the contents of the bottle so fast that water ran down his chin.
"It'd be faster for me to tell you what you didn't do," Carol said. Daryl groaned again, wiping the water off his chin and scrubbing his face with his damp hands. What he needed to do was find a water bucket and dunk his whole head inside. But that was going to have to wait a minute.
"When you got back here after the party, you pissed up the side of the tent and all over yourself," Carol announced. "Then you crawled in here covered in piss and started messing with me."
Daryl tried to force the tequila addled cogs in his brain to work faster. What Carol said definitely triggered some memories of the night before. Daryl's eyes lit with recognition.
"I remember that," he agreed, trying his very hardest not to smile. "Ya had that lacy thing on. You were lookin' good." Carol furrowed her brows at him, not looking even the slightest bit impressed with his compliment.
"Yes. I had a nightie on. Because when I left the party, you said you were going to finish your drink and meet me back here. Instead, you stayed there and talked River into giving you a lap dance in front of half the damn town." Daryl cringed as he fought the urge to drag his pee smelling blanket up and bury his face in it like an ostrich.
"M'sorry," he said. "Ya know how she gets when she's drinkin'. I'm sure we were just playin' around."
Carol sighed. To be fair, she knew all that without him telling her. Daryl and River were just friends. If they wanted to sleep together, they would have done it years ago. They weren't having an affair. Daryl wasn't cheating on her. And if the two of them were horsing around with each other like that at home, it wouldn't have been that big of a deal to her. But they weren't at home. They were at the trade fair. And now there were all sorts of embarrassing rumors circulating about River and Daryl. Carol thought she got over her insecurities about being older than her husband years ago. But how quick people were to believe that Daryl was cheating on her brought them flooding back. The whole thing was a mess.
"I know," Carol admitted. "But there's more." Daryl visibly braced himself for the more that was coming. "Negan caught a couple guys screwing with River outside the party and killed one of them. Lydia was involved too. While you've been sleeping off your birthday hangover, we've been having a council trial."
"Fuck," Daryl cursed, pushing himself up into a sitting position. "What'd they do with that asshole?"
Carol tried not to smile. Because it was unclear which asshole Daryl was asking about. There were several involved in the situation, him being one of them. The asshole that attacked River was in a holding cell. Under guard. Because Sam and Merle, who were also behaving like assholes, were both threatening to kill him. Negan, otherwise known as the king of all assholes, was being babysat by Rick and Harley. Carol was pretty sure the plan was to take him back to Hilltop and make him Glenn's problem again. Carol explained all this to Daryl as briefly as possible, leaving out her personal opinions on the men involved.
"Alright. I'm gonna wash the blankets and shit. Then I'll help you get the rest of the bakery stand set up…," Daryl said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. They had an inflatable mattress in their tent. But it was set on a large collapsible cot to keep it up off the ground. When his feet hit the ground, Daryl aroused the interest of a small puppy that he hadn't known was even there next to the bed. The little fuzzball of a dog jumped up, pawing at Daryl's legs and whining for attention. Daryl pulled the small dog up into his arms, smiling when it immediately started to cover his face in puppy kisses.
"Where did this dog come from?," Daryl asked. "It looks like a german shepherd."
"You're close," Carol said, a trace of fading irritation in her voice. "The woman that sold it to me said it's a belgian malinois. Happy fortieth birthday!"
"Holy shit!," Daryl exclaimed, hugging the puppy against him until it started squirming to get away. "This dog is mine? I always wanted a dog."
"I know," Carol said, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. She was still irritated with Daryl. But how excited he was about the puppy was beyond cute. Daryl set the dog down and reached across the small space between them. He tugged her forward, hugging her as hard as he could without getting more of his drunken pee stink on her.
"This is the best birthday present I ever got," Daryl gushed. "I love ya so much." Carol finally gave in and laughed as she hugged him back.
"I love you too."