Maybe Memories

Upon meeting with the realtor, I realized I had more work ahead of me than I thought. I was advised to repaint the interior and exterior of the house, as it needed the update. I was also advised to hire someone to look at plumbing and update anything else I thought could use it, and quite honestly, a lot of things could have used it. Selling it as is would have been acceptable, but I wanted to make sure that I got all I could out of it, it was the smart thing to do, but I had no idea where to start.

I'd also taken the time to get a hold of the funeral director, who was ready when I was for the service. I wasn't ready to put her to rest, to see her like this, but it was time. I'd agreed for the funeral to be set up for the next week, and honestly I hadn't expected many people to come, but once I realized she would have an obituary in the paper, I figured she'd have quite a few people attending.

I felt like moping around, it seemed like nothing could bring me out of this slump I was in. Jesse seemed busy all the time, which wasn't anything new, but it was a little harder while I was so far away. I felt like we'd lost connection all together. It was so weird, feeling so alone. I wasn't often one to care about being alone, but I'd also never been so isolated. I thought maybe a walk would help.

I walked down some of the dirt paths that lead through the thick woods about half a mile behind the house. I walked for what seemed like ages, listening to music through ear buds on my phone. My music was loud and the trees covered a lot of the sky, I hadn't even realized it was starting to get rainy out until I felt a few drops his my face. I ignored the drops, not caring much for some reason, and kept walking. I knew I'd walked this path a lot before, when I was a teenager. I hadn't really meant to finish walking down that path, but before I knew it, I was in front of the Dixon house. I wasn't sure if that's where Merle and Daryl were staying or if they'd gone somewhere else. I knew both of their parents were dead, so it was a good possibility that they still resided there.

I stared at that old house, it was in okay shape, for what it was, but to most others it would just look like some old, run down, redneck shack. There was a garage on the side, that I was never allowed to go in. I knew back then that their dad was spending a lot of time in there, and I figured we weren't allowed in there because of that, but I later found out it was because he was making moonshine. The garage was filled with it, from what Daryl had told me.

I stared at the house, recounting all the times I came over to see if Daryl wanted to come to dinner or go hang out. I knew he had it rough, and I tried my best to get him out of there when I could. I remembered the times he had walked the same dirt path, usually in some desperate escape that he would pretend wasn't a big deal once he reached our front door. I could still hear the police sirens from the first day I met him when we were kids when his mom died in that house fire. He and Merle had to stay with us for a few days while the police decided what to do with them before giving them back to their dad.

I was lost in my thoughts, and it gradually started raining more and more, it was the crash of thunder and lightning that snapped me out of my thoughts. I turned to leave, but I only got a few steps before a familiar voice caught my attention. "Ellie!"

I snapped my head to the right and ripped out my ear buds, looking to where Daryl stood, his hair lightly dripping water and skin glistening from the rain. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention. I'm leaving."

He approached me and looked somewhat concerned. "Ya okay?"

He was always very good at reading people, and he seemed to have only gotten better at it. "Yeah." I lied, though a part of me knew he saw right through me. "I was just walking, clearing my head. I didn't know you still lived here."

He nodded in response. "Yeah, me and Merle." He paused for a moment and bit his lip. "Gonna be stormin' soon. Want me to walk ya home?"

I smiled at the gesture, seeing the smallest glimpse of that kind heart I knew he still had buried deep within himself. "If you want to, sure." He nodded again and lead the way, keeping pretty quiet for the most part. It was starting to rain a lot harder, and by the time we got back to the house, the lightning was getting frequent and the wind picked up dramatically. We hurried onto the porch to take cover under the overhung roof. "Do you want to come in? It's a long walk in a storm like this."

He looked a little uneasy at the offer, then turned behind him to see the storm brewing. "Guess so." I was a little surprised he took the offer, but didn't question it. I opened the door and let him walk in, shutting and locking it behind me. I honestly hadn't locked a door once before I moved to New York, but after I moved I never left a door unlocked, not even the car.

"Want some dry clothes? I know my mom has a box of my dad's old clothes around here somewhere. I can dry yours so you don't have to go home soaking wet." He nodded again, and I didn't really understand his silence. He used to be so open and chatty with me, but now it was almost as if I were a stranger to him. I went up to the attic and grabbed some clothes for him from a box my mom had stashed away after my dad moved. I brought them to him, even though it was nothing like what he'd normally wear. "I'm sure you remember where the bathroom is." He grabbed the clothes and moseyed over to the bathroom.

I put on some coffee then went to change into something dry. I chose a pair of dark leggings and a long sleeve shirt. I was freezing from the cold rain and decided to put a few blankets of the couch. By the time I was finished he emerged from the bathroom in the jeans and sweater I'd brought him. He looked a little unlike himself, but it was a nice change on him. I swore he could make anything look good. I took his wet clothes from him and put them in the dryer. I handed him a cup of coffee and he seemed hesitant and uncomfortable, but he took it anyway. "Thanks." He muttered.

"Are you alright?" I asked, turning my head and leaning up against the counter.

"Fine." He shrugged, visibly trying to loosen up.

"Come watch TV with me while the storm passes?" I offered, and he looked a little wary, but followed me into the living room anyway. we both sat on the couch and I covered up with a blanket, turning on the TV. We sat in silence for a while, but it felt easy, comfortable. I glanced over at him, never looking more like a classic 90's film husband. It made me have to hold back a smile, I'd always wanted to see him dress like he wasn't always about to go hunting or mudding or something. Suddenly, the house didn't feel so empty anymore, and it didn't feel so cold, even though I was shivering. For the first time since I arrived, I felt good. I felt relieved.

"Never understood that. Killer's in the house and the dumb broad goes up stairs?" We were watching some horror/thriller movie and he was criticizing some of the worst decisions the victims made.

"You'd think they'd go outside or get in a car and dive off or something." I commented, agreeing that going upstairs was probably the worst decision possible.

"Shoot his ass. That'll solve it." He had a weird sense of humor, a somewhat dark one to be honest, but I understood it, and I smiled and shook my head.

"Well what kind of movie would that be if she just shot him? Then it would be over." I reasoned, making him stare at me in a "come on" kind of way.

"Well she could try." He snorted. There was no pleasing him, but to be fair, he wasn't one to watch movies or TV to begin with. He was brought up to not have an interest in things like that. We sat in silence for a long time, before something surprising came from him. "Why'd ya leave?"

I was shocked to hear him ask. Yes, he was the type to say what was on his mind, but he wasn't one to delve into a potentially sensitive subject, not on his own. "What?"

"Why? I never understood it." He looked serious, and maybe there was a hint of fear in his eyes.

I struggled in answering him. There were only a handful of people that had any idea of the real reason I left, and I'd left in such a hurry, and in such secrecy, that I didn't even tell anyone goodbye. "I don't really know how to answer that." I said, honestly. He gave me silence, and upon looking him in the eyes, knowing he deserved the truth. I knew that telling him was important, to the both of us. Apparently it had bothered him enough all these years to ask me about it, and I wanted to give him an answer, I felt it was the right thing to do. I hadn't even told him I was going, I hadn't told him anything. But I was scared, and a huge part of me wasn't ready to tell him or talk about it at all really. "I'll answer you, before I go back home, but I can't right now." I almost choked on my words.

He nodded and let out a small sigh. "'Kay." His cooperation and respect of my boundaries made me feel even worse than I already did.

"I'm sorry." My chest felt heavy against my heart and lungs and I felt like I'd made a mistake.

"Don't worry 'bout it. None of my business anyway." He meant it, and it hurt more. I felt like I'd put up a wall between us and I wanted to break it down, but my urgency to do so came as odd to me. I kept questioning why I cared so much about what he thought.

"No, it is." I corrected, earning a surprised look from him. "You were my friend, and I left without saying 'goodbye.' You deserve an explanation, and if you'll be patient with me, I'll give you one. Just not now." I felt almost as if I was begging for his approval, which again was odd to me.

"Whenever ya wanna talk 'bout it, lemme know." He looked genuine, like he understood this was bigger than what he probably assumed.

I smiled in relief and appreciation. "Thank you. It means a lot Daryl."

"Yeah yeah, don't be gettin' sappy on me." He smirked, lightening the mood.

"Oh, I saw Merle the other day, I don't know if I told you or not. He's still getting into trouble?" I felt worn out by Merle, I knew he'd never change.

"More like not gettin' caught." He said, nonchalantly.

"Are you doing okay? He's not dragging you into things, is he?" I knew Merle had a past in the drug world, and he occasionally got Daryl into the middle of it. I hoped he'd leave him out of it.

"Kinda hard to not get involved when he's got dealers and users over every damn day." He still didn't seem very caring about it, just like it was normal.

"Why don't you leave? Get a place of your own?" I desperately wanted him to do well for himself instead of letting his brother drag him down. His heart was too sweet for the life he'd been damned to, I broke my spirit to see a man with such great potential to be living under someone like this.

"Nah. Merle can't be on his own, he'd be in prison in a week." A babysitter. That's what he was boiled down to. He was far too loyal to Merle, and as much as I respected him for being loyal to his family, it was bringing him down and potentially dooming him.

I shook my head, upset with Merle for doing this to his little brother, upset with his father for raising them the way he did, upset at the world for letting a man with such a soft heart turn cold and shielded. I was automatically defensive over him, and I blamed it on wanting the best for my friend, but the smallest part of me, that I would never allow to speak into my brain or heart, knew better. "That's not your problem."

"I know." Was all he could say. I almost though that would make him mad, that he'd try to defend why he did what he did, but he just accepted it.

"Don't you think you deserve a better life than that?" I asked, begging him to see he was worth more than he gave himself credit for.

"Why would I? Didn't do nothin' to deserve it." His modesty was high and self worth low. This was the damage an abuse father and a dead mother did to a child. He never got over it, he never got closure and he never grew out of being timid and self loathing. Seeing how genuinely oblivious he was to how wonderful and deserving he was frustrated me and broke my heart all at the same time.

I stared at him for a moment, processing his words, trying to understand how he couldn't see what I saw in him, the same thing I saw in him when I was a teenager. Emotions rose to the surface but I didn't want him to see me cry, and I didn't want to explain myself. I slowly engulfed him in a hug, wrapping my arms around him and burying my face into the crook of his neck. I knew it wasn't right the second it happened, I knew this was something I wouldn't have wanted Jesse to see. He seemed a little nervous, not used to touch, but after a moment he wrapped his arms around me, unsure of himself at first, but then calming into it. My heart raced and palms sweated, and although my nerves were going haywire, I hadn't felt so calm and easy since I left New York. It was such a weird mix of things to feel, but that was when I'd realized that my feelings for him had never truly gone away. I still cared about him, and I still had a fondness for him. More guilt overwhelmed me when I thought of Jesse seeing me like this, and even though we were just friends and it shouldn't have been a big deal, my fast growing emotions turned it into one. But even with the guilt, the nerves, and every single bone in my body screaming at me, telling me to get away from him, telling me this wasn't okay, I stayed. I took in a deep breath, he smelled like cigarettes and leather with a slight hint of the musty smell of rain. It was all so calming and warm that I felt myself wanting to fall asleep as he gently ran a hand up and down my back.

Daryl was able to read me like a book, even when we were young he'd always know what I was thinking or feeling. He knew me well enough to know my subtle signs of emotion, and I felt like he knew I was upset. Things were building in me again like they had earlier, but this time I just couldn't stop the tears from flowing. This was beyond me feeling sorry for Daryl, it was beyond my guilt and my mother's death. It was something of a realization that I never felt this way with my husband. In this small moment, a hug, I felt more than I had in my whole marriage. It broke me. I questioned everything in my life, and though I knew I was over thinking it and that it was just a small burst of old emotion, I crumbled. And Daryl knew this wasn't just about what he said anymore, he knew this wasn't about me feeling sad over his self depreciating comment, he may not have known what it was about, but he stayed there with me as long as I needed him to.

After a few minutes of my pity party, I looked up at him, not yet letting him go. I touched his face and looked into his worried, light blue eyes. "I'm sorry." I said, taking my hand back and sitting back where I was. He didn't break eye contact with me, he had an intensity behind his eyes and I wanted to know why, but I thought asking would have just been a dead end.

"What are ya sorry for?" He asked, sounding calm and collected but I wondered what he was actually thinking.

"Crying on you." I half laughed, tears still in my eyes. "I just.. Everything just.."

"I know." He nodded, leaning back against the arm of the couch, still facing me.

"I've just been dealing with a lot on my own." I said, which wasn't a lie, but it sure wasn't the entire truth. "Jesse and I haven't talked in days, he doesn't seem to have a lot of time to talk lately."

"That your husband?" He said, somewhat pained? It was an odd tone coming from him.

"Yeah. He's been busy I guess, has a case or something to work on." I shrugged, knowing this was a normal thing in Jesse's world, but it wasn't normal for him to have no time to talk at all, even when I was home.

"He can't take 30 seconds to call his wife?" He seemed a little defensive, but he seemed that way most of the time anyway.

"I don't know. I'm sure he's tired." I defended, not wanting to get into it much further, because I knew how Daryl could be. He hadn't seemed to change that much either.

"Whatever ya say." He said, looking toward the TV, thankfully ending the conversation.

I let the silence roll on for a little while, not necessarily feeling awkward about it. My stomach growled and we made eye contact, both of us giving a bit of a half smile. "So are you ready for dinner? I am." I chuckled.

"Sure." He answered. I got up and head to the kitchen to make spaghetti, wanting to make something relatively fast. As I was cooking, I heard my phone ring. "Hey, phone's ringin'." Daryl said from the couch.

I figured it was Maggie or my dad or something, so I answered "Can you answer it?"

I heard him answer, but the moment he spoke back to the caller, my heart dropped. I knew exactly who he was talking to. "Calm down, she's jus' in the kitchen." He walked out to me and handed me my phone. I couldn't have dreaded this conversation more...