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There were always simple chores to be done, and Carol did them willingly if only to keep her mind and hands busy. She leaned over the large old fashioned Maytag, cranking the side handle to wring out a shirt, and panted with the effort. It was good exercise for her arms too, as she told Michonne earlier.
There were others who were willing to take up these chores, but while Daryl, Michonne and Sasha were out on a run she needed the distraction. Carol had confidence in her friends, her family, but she knew that no matter how good you were at defending yourself and others it didn’t take much to get into a bad situation. Even the best could trip at the wrong moment or be surprised, and then they could die. She shook her head, grabbed the shirt and passed it to Maggie, who was hanging the clean clothes to dry on their clothes line.
Carol grabbed the next item, a short dress, and began scrubbing. She could already hear an engine in the distance and Maggie was looking up toward the gate in anticipation. “Think they found anything good?”
“Maybe, though you know how picked over all of the nearest places are getting. As long as they all come back safe it is enough for me.” Maggie gave her a small smile, “Glenn wants to do a run tomorrow; try another road. He found an old zoning map that showed some neighborhoods we might have missed. I think I might go with him.” She turned and stared at the gate to the prison yard as a car finally made its way to the fence.
“Just the two of you? Might be good to take two more in another car in case there is anything decent to find.” Carol glanced at the car and then back to the dress, which was ready to be rinsed and wrung out. She looked back as soon as the car parked, just to count the people getting out of the vehicle, and to note that they had to open the trunk. That usually meant that there was something gathered on the run. She counted three heads and then kept her attention on the wash until a shadow crossed in front of her washer.
“You still doing that? Thought you’d be done by now.” Daryl paused, his cross-bow propped against his shoulder, and Carol looked up, leaning forward over the top of the washer as she smiled at him. “I found some . . . some, um,” he trailed off, looking down at her and she saw him flush.
She glanced down to see what he was staring at, if there were panties floating in the wash or something like that, but saw that the shirt she was wearing had gaped open and that the top of her bra was showing. Leaning over as she was he was probably getting a good look. “See anything you like?” Carol grinned at him, enjoying his blush and the speechlessness, “Eyes up here, pookie.” She pointed at her face and he followed the movement of her hand. He was still flushed and she saw him swallow hard before he turned and practically fled to the inside of the prison.
Maggie laughed, “Poor Daryl.”