Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas
The voices of Arthur Freed and Denny Markass sang the song "You and I" sweetly to one another from the corner of the living room as Meet Me in St. Louis played vividly on the TV. Carol and Daryl had been shut in the house for two days, waiting for the herd to thin out around the property, and were running out of things to keep them busy. A day ago, there was a discussion about a trip back to the cottage to retrieve the supplies they had left behind. He had offered to go alone, but she'd convinced him they could wait out the heaviest surge of bodies with the supplies on hand. She was glad then when he agreed because it had forced them to work together and spend time together. They had been focused on living rather than surviving. Part of that living was the discovery of the working TV and a collection of movies in the corner cupboard of the room.
"I don't get it," he grumbled beside her on the couch. She turned, her attention drifting briefly to him, away from the unfolding story.
"What?"
"How's this a Christmas movie again?"
"It's a classic!" She scoffed and swatted him in the chest.
He grabbed her hand and held it over his heart as a comfort, giving it a quick squeeze before letting it fall away. "All she's doin' is singin' bout trolleys or meetin' up in St. Louis."
She sat up, straightening the blanket across her legs, her feet crossed atop the coffee table. "Okay, yes, it is about all seasons and falling in love, and also, technically, the world's fair," he gave her a scrutinizing glare."But, later in the movie, she sings Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."
"Ah, I see."
"Yeah?"
"Naw, not really." He chuckled and shifted slightly on the couch, their shoulders touching lightly.
She rolled her eyes playfully in his direction and stood from the couch. Then she said, "I need hot cocoa. Do you want anything?"
He looked up at her, a content and pleasant smile gracing his face. "Water? My throat's feelin' a little dry—scratchy." He cleared it then, and she noticed he hadn't shaken the look of exhaustion from his headache the other day.
She placed the back of her hand against his forehead and frowned. "You feel kind of warm," she said.
He shrugged and swatted her hand away, "S'nothin' just tired. Probly the dry air- ain't used to it."
"Mhmm." She looked at him with concern. "Hit pause, mister. " She patted his shoulder and walked to the kitchen with a little swing in her hips. She looked back at him as he leaned over and fiddled with the remote, and the movie paused.
She went to the kettle on the counter and pulled a canister of cocoa down from the cupboard above. When Daryl said the house was fully stocked, he wasn't lying. On their first day, locked inside as a new winter storm rolled in on the backs of the dead, they kept busy creating an inventory of the pantry. With rough calculations, she guessed they had enough supplies. If they were careful, it would be enough to last them through the beginning of summer. Prior owners had dehydrated and canned a multitude of things, including her precious cocoa mix. And, that inventory didn't account for any extra they had discussed bringing over from the other cottage once the weather and the dead allowed. She thought fondly of the little oasis she'd created and smiled at the memories shared days ago. She imagined now that the tree sat lonely in the dark, still decorated.
The electric kettle beeped, bringing her out of her thoughts. She poured the hot water over the cocoa mix in her mug. She stirred it gently, watching it swirl together with the powdered milk she'd discovered yesterday. It had been hiding behind the dry goods in the back of the pantry. "You want a bottle or a glass?" she called back to him as she continued to stir her drink.
"Bottle?" he asked.
She turned and walked through the laundry and mudroom into the garage where they'd decided to keep the stores of bottled water. The wind moaned and rattled against the garage door, and she felt the prickles of cold on her arm as she entered the chilled space. Her feet instantly cooled by the concrete floor. She quickly grabbed the requested bottle and rushed back into the kitchen. She shivered as her body adjusted back to the warmth in the central part of the house.
"Ya okay?" he asked.
"Mhmm." She grabbed her mug from the counter and carefully carried it back to the living room.
"Thanks," he nodded as she handed him his water.
She plopped back down and covered her legs, reaching for the mug and taking a sip. She closed her eyes in pleasure and yawned.
"Look's like it ain't just me." She gave him a confused look. "Tired?"
She stretched beside him on the couch and took another sip, "No, I think I'm just bored," a small giggle burst from her lips. "I can't believe I just said that."
"When do ya think the last time we had time to be bored was?" He quirked an eyebrow at her and slouched further into the couch.
"You're telling me you're bored with me?" she wiggled her eyebrows.
"Stahp." his cheeks flushed. "Ain't what I meant at all."
"You blushing or is that your fever talking?" She reached out again with her hand to check his temperature.
He huffed and swatted her away. "Seriously, stahp!"
"Fine, okay, start the movie back up." She turned back toward the screen, taking another satisfying sip of her cocoa.
He pushed play on the remote in his lap and turned his head to look at her.
"OH! I love this part!" She beamed at him. "See?! Oh, he showed up at the dance!"
Daryl's eyes flickered to the screen and back to Carol. His eyes softened, and he admired the joy on her face as she watched the characters on screen dancing and laughing. The scene changed, and now the girl, wearing a sparkling cap, stood with her suitor under a moonlit sky, crying as the young man began to speak. Carol reached over and grasped his hand.
John: I wouldn't have said it, Esther, if I'd thought it would make you cry.
Esther (crying): I've imagined you saying it thousands of times. And I always planned exactly how I'd act. I never planned to cry.
Carol watched the scene, enraptured, as Daryl continued watching Carol in the same way.
John: Well, at least you didn't laugh...I never asked a girl to marry me before...
Esther: John, nobody could have done it more beautifully. I'm very proud.
John: Esther, will you? Will you, Esther?
Carol turned her head then, eyes soft and full of love. His cheeks grew hot as their eyes met.
Esther: Of course I will, John.
She squeezed his hand as the characters kissed on the screen tenderly.
John: Gosh, the time we've wasted. Say... do you realize I might've lost you? Three more days you'd a been gone.
His breath hitched in his chest as he felt the tell-tale flutter of affection for her there. Carol's thumb traced over the back of his hand.
Esther: Let's not even think about it.
His eyes remained fixated on her face, trying to communicate the same sentiment without words as he wove their fingers together.
John: We might never have seen each other again
These same hopes and desires were coiled tightly in his chest, waiting to burst into being.
Esther: I kept telling myself that even if I did go away... we'd find some way to be together.
Their breathing quickened as she raised her other hand to rest on his chest. He blinked rapidly, and she began to lean in. "Daryl—" her voice shook, breathless and eager.
Judy's rich singing voice suddenly filled the room, breaking them out of the reverie.
Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Make the Yuletide gay
Their breathing evened out, but they continued making subtle glances at one another. Daryl turned his gaze back to the TV just as the youngest girl burst into tears.
Next year, all our troubles will be miles away.
"What are you thinking?" her soft voice broke through the song.
Once again as in olden days
Happy golden days of yore
He cleared his throat and tried to sit up to look her straight in the eyes.
Faithful friends who were near to us
Will be dear to us once more
"Was thinkin'-" he paused, taking a moment to look at the TV screen while Judy finished singing. "Were right. S' Christmas movie, I guess," he folded his arms and smirked at her.
She laughed then, her eyes full of joy at his admission. She was the brightest light in the room to him in that moment. They'd had so many close calls, and he knew he wanted her to be dear to him forever like Esther had been to John in the end. The movie's sounds continued, with the characters moving around on screen, hugging, telling each other Merry Christmas and other platitudes. He could hardly pay attention as his eyes wandered to Carol so frequently to gauge her own reactions, which were pleased. The music swelled, time passed, and they were all walking around the world fair, staring at the spectacle in awe. She reached for the remote on his lap and lowered the volume as the credits rolled.
Just as she went to take another drink from her mug, he reached over and grabbed it from her hand with a twinkle in his eye, taking his own sip. "That's pretty good!"
"Hey! Get your own!" she grabbed it back. "Gonna get me sick with your germy germs," she grumbled teasingly as she wiped the lip of the cup.
He screwed up his face feigning insult, "Shared plenty o' germs before. Ain't heard you complain. Plus- ain't sick." he cleared his throat again at the persistent tickle and grimaced at the body aches that had started to settle in.
"It's a Good thing I can just make more," she smiled and stood. He watched her hips sway playfully back and forth as she padded back to the kitchen to make herself another mug. "I'm going to make you some tea to help your throat, too," she called back to him.
"Ain't sick!" he groaned.
When she returned, she held a tray with two mugs and a bottle of pills. "Move your feet," she requested as she gently patted his knee. He complied, and she placed the tray down in front of them.
"I told you," he whined.
She sighed deeply and opened the bottle, shaking two white pills from it. "I know when you're lying," she smirked. "Hold out your hand, please?"
He scowled and begrudgingly held out his hand. Carol dropped them in his palm. He downed them quickly with the remaining water in his bottle.
"I can tell you're gonna be a terrible patient," she mumbled, handing him the mug of tea. He sniffed it suspiciously and squinted his eyes at her. "It's peppermint sweetened with honey."
"Fine." he took a careful sip and relaxed back on the couch. "I get to pick the next movie."
"Oh yeah? Out of what—all five in the cabinet?" She crouched down in front of the VHS player and pulled out a few options.
"Die hard."
Surprised, She turned, "I didn't even tell you what was here."
He leaned over onto the arm of the couch and slid down until his head rested on it. "Already looked, already know it's there," he said, closing his eyes to rest them for just a moment.
"Awww... but look—" she held up a tape. The cover depicted two people in black and white, and she said wistfully, "It's a Wonderful Life. "
"If it's Die Hard then sure," he rolled onto his back, trying to find a comfortable position for his aching body.
"You aren't even looking," she was perturbed.
"Can see with my eyes closed just fine," he sighed, folding his hands over his chest. He felt himself suddenly drifting. The ache in his throat was starting to subside, and his limbs felt heavy and tired. The last sounds he registered were the tape ejecting from the player and the click of the TV turning off. He felt the gentle and cool touch of her hand against his forehead again. "Carol?" he mumbled slowly.
"Shhh. Just rest for a bit." He felt the gentle weight of the blanket covering his body. He inhaled the scent of her and drifted into a dreamless sleep.
She stood in front of the bathroom mirror, a face stricken with worry staring back at her. According to her estimation and the kitchen clock, Daryl passed out an hour ago. Whether or not he wanted to admit it, all signs pointed to the flu or something else respiratory. Either way, she bubbled up with worry. They may have had food, but when they inventoried the bathroom and first aid supplies, they found little in the way of Tylenol or Ibuprofen- anything that would help reduce a fever. And if it got worse- pneumonia? They had nothing to treat it. No antibiotics and nothing to ease a cough or expel mucus. So, she had to make a plan. She would need to figure out a way and a time to leave this house and head back to the cottage.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a wet cough from the other room. "Of course," she muttered and rubbed a hand over her face in frustration. She exited the bathroom and walked down the hallway to check on him. Daryl had one arm up, the crook of his elbow covering his eyes, his head turned just so toward the back of the couch as the blanket covered to just the middle of his chest. He still hadn't wanted to take his boots off for more than just sleeping in their bed. She sighed, approached him quietly, sitting at the end of the couch, and slowly, gently eased off the ratty boots, 'These will have to go, too.' Aside from his stubbornness over the matter, there wasn't any logical reason why he couldn't wear the boots she'd found him. She wrinkled her brow at the sight of his threadbare socks. He had also been unwilling to accept her offer to find him a new pair. She suspected it had more to do with her safety, putting his needs on the back burner to spare her time and keep her close to him. Well... if he was truly down for the count, as his current disposition suggested, then she'd add fresh socks to her list of things to find for him.
She knew there was always something more to be found, even if she felt she'd scoured every neighboring house. This homestead was the perfect example. Suddenly, she was reminded of the two properties she'd left mostly untouched near the first acreage. An idea sparked.
She would leave early in the morning, take the truck, and push her way through the herd, and if the herd was still too thick, she'd cover herself in a walker and strike out on foot. Those were her options. Both of them would be risky. He'd be furious once he found out, but she was willing to risk life and limb for him if it meant he stayed alive. She shivered, remembering the moment things had gone south at the prison. She wouldn't let things get out of control like that again... Ever.