broken claims

Part 4

If the devil wore pearls and lipstick, he might've been mistaken for Stella Swan. Daryl could have slammed the door shut if she hadn't wedged her foot through first. "My daughter is distraught because you have taken my grandchild. Apparently you're unwilling to allow her access."

"Ain't like Sharley's been picking up for phone calls."

He had gotten through once and hadn't bothered for a second time. Life had to keep going. It had only taken a few weeks before the drawings hanging from the fridge by magnets transitioned from the stick figures of a woman with scratched on red hair in favour of a fairly accurate resemblance of Merle's scraggly looking smile. Leigh wasn't even asking for her mother anymore. The goal was supposed to be a healthy, happy kid. That was the purpose. And Daryl was doing it, focusing on the one job worth doing, the one thing that trumped everything else.

"Where is Rosalie?" Stella smiled tersely. The name was a bit of a stretch for a little girl who beamed at him from across a kitchen table with a Jack O Lantern smile. Two baby teeth were lost and gone in favour of growing up a smidge.

Daryl stepped away from the door and looked at the trailer. "She's with her uncle," he said flatly. A bottle of whisky was visible on top of the fridge and it looked like a red flag hoisted up on a rope. "He's got her for the day."

Stella trailed her finger almost discretely across a wooden desk by the wall. She inspected for dust and the smile faded to a frown. "Richard and I have been discussing it, you know. This situation can't be viable long term."

"Leigh was gonna swallow one of those pills Sharley had out. I took her for her own good. She talk about that stuff lying around her apartment?"

"I'm sure you imagine that this is... good."

"Sharley say anything about the bruise my kid had?" Daryl added on hotly. "Somebody took their fist to her."

"Rosalie needs stability. She needs what we could provide," Stella pushed, wrinkling her nose slightly. "We're willing to allow you to stay in the guest apartment above the garage. It was renovated recently. I'm sure you could find it comfortable."

"Nah. Don't think so."

She had the audacity to look confused at his rejection. "I assure you that it's quite liveable."

"We're good here."

"Respectfully, Daryl, this place is a dump. You can't possibly raise a child here."

"Why's that?" Daryl asked neutrally, struggling to take his anger and choke it back down. It was luck that Merle had sprung Leigh for some plan. If Merle was sprawled across the patchy couch in the living room listening to the woman talk, he'd be up on his feet cursing and spitting threats.

Her face went scarlet and she lowered her voice like the neighbours could be listening in. "Rosalie has a good family. We can offer so much more than what you might be able to alone."

"Leigh ain't yours, lady. And you might look down your nose around me and my place, but she's just as mine as she ever was Sharley's," Daryl said, practically a threat. "I've got it handled."

Stella fell silent. Her designer clothes made the trailer look shabbier than it usually did. The one arm of the couch was spruced up by duct tape holding it all together. "Sharley is capable of getting herself back together. You ruined my daughter's life, Daryl. You're the reason she got pregnant and fell off from the track we had her on. I won't let you ruin my grandchild."

Leigh was the best thing to have come out from whatever Shaley and Daryl had been. "Come here again and I'll shoot 'ya. You ain't welcome here."

"We'll be expecting Rosalie for Thanksgiving dinner."