To Keep You Close to Me

“Why are you with Daryl?” Cole asked me as we cleaned the bar after a long night. He was a typical southern boy; heartbreaking southern accent, chivalrous, attractive. He was always trying to take me out, but I always had to say no.

“I don’t know. He was there when my parents died. And I don’t know. You don’t know him like I do,” I told him. We’ve had this conversation many times and I was running out of reasons as to why I was with Daryl.

“I don’t know if I should know him, if he’s anything like his brother,” he said, referring to Merle. Merle was the only downside to Daryl. Merle was obnoxious and annoying. The man couldn’t control his drinking or drug use. He often crashed at our house, which was crowded enough as it was. I tried looking past him when I evaluated the relationship between Daryl and me.

Lots of people asked me why I was with him. I heard so many times that I could do better. Daryl has a sweet side, which only I get to see. I don’t see it that often, but when I do, it makes me fall in love with him.

“Are you sure you aren’t settling?” my best friend Charlotte asked. She works at the restaurant as a waitress. She also attended the same college as me, the same major: nursing. We both only completed an LPN degree. I planned on going back to become an RN, but times were tough.

She didn’t approve of the Dixon brothers only because of Merle. He took Charlotte’s brother under his wing when they were younger and introduced him to a new lifestyle of drugs and unprotected sex with prostitutes. So as most people do, Charlotte blames Daryl just as much.

“Maybe I am settling, but Daryl needs me.” Cole and Charlotte rolled their eyes. The door to the restaurant busted open and Merle Dixon walked into the building. A sigh escaped our lips as we all took our positions. Merle and a friend sat down at the bar in front of me.

“Hey Sugartits, how ‘bout you get us a drink,” he greeted. He and his friend creepily smiled at me. They were both obviously already intoxicated.

“The usual?” I asked. I only worked at the bar on the weekends, and I saw them every night, ordering the same thing. I pulled two beers from the fridge, popping the caps off and sliding them in front of the two men. In sync, they grabbed their beers and took a sip. I felt bad for the other customers in the building because Merle and his friend were known to be loud and start fights.

Since they were already trashed, it only took a few more beers to get them completely smashed. At that point, I cut them off. When Merle asked for another, I told him and gave him his bill.

“Hey now, ain’t there some family discount?” he asked, looking at his bill.

“We’re not family,” I stated and walked off towards another customer.



When I arrived home, Daryl was laying on the couch watching TV. I apologized for being late and walked into the kitchen to start dinner. The cupboards were practically empty, except for a box of spaghetti. We just had spaghetti the other night, but it will suffice. I filled a pot with water and sat it on the stove, waiting for it to boil. While the water heated up, I walked back into the living room. Daryl was watching the news. Lately, we’ve been hearing about these weird attacks. People have been biting other people. About five incidents have happened in the last week. The news cast was trying to cover it up by saying this was a side effect of some kind of drug.

There were rumors that more attacks happened than we were aware of and the government wasn’t telling us. The only thing they did tell us was to watch out for strange behavior. Strange behavior could mean anything these days.

“What’s for dinner?” Daryl asked as I stood up to check on the water.

“Spaghetti. I know we had it the other night, but it’s all we got. I’ll go shopping tomorrow,” I told him, running my hand through his messy hair.

“It’s okay,” he said forgivingly. He was always understanding, unlike his brother. After all, Daryl was the sweeter one.

I walked back out to the kitchen and checked on the water. Bubbles were bursting along the surface so I put the stiff pasta into the hot water. I could hear Daryl walk in behind me, reaching into the fridge for a beer. He popped open the can and took a swig.

“I had to cut Merle off tonight. He came into the bar already drunk,” I complained. Daryl couldn’t do anything, he couldn’t control Merle.

“What did you expect? It’s Merle,” Daryl stated.

“I know. It’s just annoying. He’s always around, everywhere I go. He’s here, he’s there when I’m working.”

“What do you want me to do about it?”

“You could start by telling him to find his own place,” I sneered. I was taking care of Daryl and me. Not Merle. He was mooching off of us and Daryl couldn’t tell him to leave. Merle did whatever the hell he wanted and didn’t let anyone tell him what to do.

I tested the pasta before draining it and adding the sauce. Daryl and I sat down at the table and started eating. About halfway through our quiet meal, the front door burst open, revealing an angry Merle. I glared at Daryl as his brother walked over to us.

“Where’s my dinner, Sugartits?” Merle asked as he threw out his arms as if he were waiting for a hug.

“You can get some yourself,” I snapped.

“You gonna let her talk to me like that, Darlina?” Daryl remained quiet, finishing his food. Merle stumbled over to the stove and started helping himself. Though his drunken self could coordinate his actions and ended up dropping the spoon and a scoop of spaghetti. I slammed my fork down onto the plate and stood up. I stomped over to where Merle stood laughing his ass off and pushed him out of the way.

“God damn it, Merle!” I yelled as I quickly picked up the spoon and threw it in the sink.

“This wouldn’a happened if you just served me like you’re supposed to,” Merle said.

“I’m not supposed to do anything for you! You don’t live here!”

“Val,” Daryl called.

“No, Daryl. Merle, get out. I’ve had it, get out.”

“Don’t be that way, Val. Why don’t ya come over here and give your good pal Merle a big hug and we’ll forget about all this,” Merle said.

“Val, he’s been drinking, he can’t drive,” Daryl said as he walked over to me.

“He can walk,” I said sternly.

“Just let him stay for the night. He can leave in the morning,” he said. Merle was now eating the spaghetti straight out of the pot.

“Fine. But I am not cleaning this up,” I spat and stormed out of the room. As I entered the bedroom, I shut the door behind me and started to strip. I threw on a baggy t-shirt and a pair of shorts. The bedroom door opened behind me and then shut again.

“Val,” Daryl said softly. “What’s wrong?”

“Daryl, I just wanted a nice quiet dinner. With you, just you. And he has to come in here and ruin it,” I said. A frown appeared on his face as he sat quietly on the bed. “I don’t want it to have to come down to picking between us, but I can’t deal with him, and I’m afraid it might come to that.”