November 25, 2010
~*~ DD ~*~
Daryl grins as he sees Scout and Shane entering the kitchen, each carrying big crockpots like the two he and Carl just delivered to Carol's domain. His is the sole meat dish Carol isn't cooking herself, two roasts from one of the wild boars his team took down when they started moving too close to Homestead property for the former game wardens' comfort. Damn things could be a menace in enough numbers, and with no real predators right now, those numbers were going to grow. He doesn't even think a walker could do much damage to a good size sounder of hogs unless they were strongly outnumbered. They're too fast and too willing to eat anything.
"Stuffed cabbage rolls," Shane explains to Carol. "Made them vegetarian so they'd be more of a side dish to whatever you've got going that smells so good in here."
"You made them, not her, right?" Daryl teases. Scout smacks him in the arm, but she's smiling.
Shane laughs. "Yeah. Did the prep last night and stuck them in the crockpot this morning. Should be enough for everyone to have a couple, if they like. Got mushrooms, lentils, rice, garlic, raisins, tomatoes, bit of spice."
Carol's peering into one of the crockpots and sniffing appreciatively. "I don't think I've ever had them without beef, but they smell heavenly. Thank you. Now shoo. I'm pretty sure they're waiting on you two to start up a lacrosse game out back." They head out to the backyard, and she turns to see him still leaned on the counter. "Not going to go play too, Pookie?"
"Nah. They got enough to play around. Might later." It's not that he doesn't enjoy the sport, actually more than the games of soccer or touch football that get scrambled together in the backyard fairly often, but Carol's dismissed her team of teenage prep cooks outside and he can't quite bring himself to leave her. Even Beth and Patrick are out there. "Where can I help?"
She looks around thoughtfully. There are two crockpots on the counter in addition to the four that came via him and Shane, but he doubts they need any attention. He's already peeked and seen she's got sweet potato casserole going in both. While they'd had enough turkey between a couple of captured ones from the poultry flock and the half dozen Daryl's team have hunted over the past two weeks for the community meal, Carol's taken out two of the more ornery geese from the poultry flock for the family dinner. Both of those are in one of the ovens, although she said when he came in it's probably another 45 minutes before they're done. The other oven has the biggest pan of dressing he's ever seen. She has four burners of the stovetop occupied as well, and there's a deep fryer on the counter.
"You ever done dinner rolls?" she asks, looking at the bowl of dough on the island counter, covered with a dish towel while it rises.
He shakes his head. "Know biscuits and cornbread, but not yeast rolls."
"Guess you can learn then." She pulls him over to the island and tips the dough out on parchment paper after punching it down, rolling it quickly into a long rope. "Just cut it like this and roll it into balls for the pan. When you're done, spray it with the garlic butter spray. Cover it with a towel and it'll finish rising while the geese cook." While he starts on the dough balls, she sprays three pans and sets them beside where he's working.
He hears her open the oven door to check on the dressing. "What all's in yours?" Growing up in the South, he knows every woman has some special recipe of her own. He doesn't think he's ever eaten a dressing that tasted the same if the cook behind it was different.
"Cornbread dressing with apples and some of that wild boar sausage I asked you for from the hog hunt. Got mushrooms, sourdough and cornbread, onions, and helped do away with another bottle of that awful white wine. Glynnis did the bread and cornbread yesterday for the dressing."
"So, I see she wriggled something in?" he jokes.
"That and she did all the pies earlier this week and froze the ones that could be. I'll need to cycle some of them into the ovens as we eat. Got two pumpkin, two bourbon-pecan, two berry, two butterscotch, and two lemon cream." Carol nudges him where she's measuring out ingredients for cornbread. "Glynnis said to watch you, because you could eat one of the lemon all by yourself."
He laughs. "Probably. But so could Jazz. Might do a key lime at Christmas to surprise him. He likes all the citrus ones."
"I had noticed his love of anything lemon already."
"What's in your veggie pots and pans?" With covers on some, he could only easily identify one big stockpot that is obviously future mashed potatoes.
"Potatoes, cauliflower with broccoli, and butternut squash on there right now. In the coolers, I've got glazed carrots, crowder peas, spicy green beans with kale, peas with pearl onions, and spicy collard greens. Merle's out back with the grill for the corn and frog legs that Shane took the kids hunting at the fish hatchery."
"Jesus, Carol. You're gonna make us pop." And he can see the evidence of her planning in the little notebook that even sideways from this angle he can see has a timeline and quantities. He thinks in the right life, Carol could have run a restaurant like that lady from Grady did that took over so Carol didn't have to do meal shifts all the time.
"I couldn't narrow it down," she says, blushing a little, but she's smiling, so he didn't upset her. "It's the first time I've ever gotten to just do a menu all out. Well, some limitations for things we can't get or aren't in season, but it's a lot of people to feed anyway. And the kids were great prep cooks in peeling and chopping. Plus, you and Shane cooked, and Glynnis did the pies, and Maggie and Beth made two cakes." She indicates two covered cake stands already on the table. "Jacqui's bringing corn pudding when she and Jim come up, and Cricket brought enough cookies we'll be eating them for days."
The idea of why she never got free reign on a menu like this bugs him, so he takes a break from his rolls to sneak in a hug. She makes a little surprised sound, but hugs him back readily. He's back to the rolls and she's moved on from cornbread - now set aside to bake when the dressing comes out of the oven - and starts coating okra.
Daryl works quietly for a minute, then starts laughing a little. "Did you ever think you'd be having a Thanksgiving dinner that included wild boar and frog legs on the menu instead of turkey?"
She gives him one of those sly grins of hers. "I never ate a single frog leg until that quarry camp, despite living in Georgia all my life. No squirrel or rabbit either."
"And now you're just a regular ole Dixon, nibbled on everything. We ever venture south, gonna find a gator just so you've tried it. Or head up to the mountains and find a bear. Figure those could survive a while too, like the hogs and deer." Sadly, the things that don't survive the walkers well are the household pets and penned up livestock. Daryl isn't going to think about those particular sights while in this amazing smelling kitchen.
"You've eaten bear and gator? Why doesn't that surprise me?"
He just laughs as he finishes the rolls and follows her direction with the spray and towel. "Some of it I've hunted over the years, but a few were at wild game charity dinners. Like for Rotary Club or Boy Scouts."
"What's the weirdest thing you've ever eaten then?"
"At a dinner? They don't get too crazy. Exotic, but a lot of 'em don't even do squirrel. Had Rocky Mountain Oysters, of course." He waits for the grimace to set in and smirks at her. "Eaten bobcat and crow at different times. Figured if I killed it, should at least give it a try. Think the weirdest that I don't want to repeat would be karaoli yahni. That's these little wild snails they catch on Cyprus that Scout made us try that trip we went over there. They catch 'em wild like people go clamming or crawfishing, then cook 'em in tomato sauce. Go into a market there and you can buy them fresh, but the damned things are actively trying to escape their bins too."
"I don't know whether to say ewww or be jealous you got to go to a foreign country and try things like that."
"You should ask Scout sometime about her duty tours. Think a lot of her mementos are in the attic here. She usually brought a bunch home since she always lived in the barracks and it didn't allow for storage space. And I know she's sent all sorts of things home." His own small collection is part of what he collected from Thomson on his trip.
"I'll do that. I always worry about asking sometimes, in case something's a bad memory."
"Just ignore Afghanistan and you'll be fine. She's good with the others."
Carol nods as a timer goes off for the oven with the dressing in it, so she scurries to check it while Daryl sidesteps out of her path. When she declares it done, he gets the pan out of the oven to the trivets on the table while she pushes her two pans of cornbread into the warm confines.
"About half an hour on the geese. Wanna check with Merle on how close he is? Take him a cream soda too." Carol passes him a cold drink from the fridge.
"A'right." He leaves her to the okra she's still breading and steps outside to the little outpost of the deck that houses the big grill. From the massive stack of foil wrapped packages, Merle's nearly finished with the corn and starting on the frog legs.
"Carol send you looking for her veggies?" Merle asks, reaching out to take the soda bottle when it's offered.
"Yeah. Geese got a half hour she says. Dressing's done and the cornbread's in the oven."
The older Dixon nods. "She's gonna drop like a rock tonight soon as everyone's gone. Told her she was taking at least a half day tomorrow to rest up a little, but she probably won't listen."
"She's just excited."
Merle smiles softly, and Daryl likes the expression, one he hasn't seen on the man outside of his kids in decades. "Yeah, she is."
There's no one else on this part of the deck, everyone involved in the lacrosse game that looks like it's evolved into contact rules if the fact that Jamie's just been bowled over by a crowing Maggie is any indication. He supposes it's a good thing they fetched all that gear from the high school and everyone's following Hershel's rule of helmets to play. The veterinarian swore he had no wish to deal with concussions from anyone getting a ball smacked into their skull.
"Who's winning?" he asks. The antics on the makeshift field don't really tell him much other than Jazz is in at goalie on one end and Beth at the other, taking the spot Honey would normally play but can't due to her broken arm.
"I'm not entirely sure they're keeping score. Or staying on the same teams. Could have sworn ten minutes ago that Maggie and Glenn were on the same team, but then she stick checked him and scored, so who knows?"
"Guess that's what happens when you let Honey be the referee. Doesn't matter if they're all happy. Abby still playing?"
"Sorta. She's benched herself for now to pester Honey. If they were taking score, I'd say she's distraction for a larger plot."
Daryl laughs. Yeah, he could see that as a plan. Merle plops the last of the corn packets on the big platter and stretches before going back to the frog legs.
"You and Carol set a date yet? Sophia can't seem to stop talking about wanting it done yesterday."
"She's thinking Christmas. Doesn't want anything big, just a ceremony in front of everyone."
"The fuss would embarrass her," Daryl agrees. "But you best make sure she at least gets a pretty dress for it."
"Not stupid, Daryl." But he grins. "Use all the excuses I can for that. She's a hard woman to spoil." He looks at the platter and back through the glass toward Carol. "Best take that corn in before she comes looking for it. Bring me another platter out for the frog legs, will ya?"
Daryl nods and lifts the heavy platter of corn. When he looks back over his shoulder as he opens the door, he catches Merle's affectionate study of Carol moving around the kitchen and just has to smile at the happiness so evident in both of them.
~*~ CP ~*~
"I ate way too much," Carol groans. She's not sure she can move for the next two or three hours. She isn't the only one. They've wedged in enough seating for everyone, although the younger ones are actually up on the balcony area that overlooks the living room. From where she's leaned back against Merle, she can see at least three of the kids sprawled on the floor in their little food comas.
What seemed like a mountain of food is decimated enough that they might have some interesting leftovers for everyone to take, but nowhere near as much as Carol feared once all the food was on display. The desserts, however, may end up in the take home containers, because she's not sure even any of the men or more ravenous teenagers have managed dessert yet. There's time yet to the evening, she supposes, but is certainly glad other folks are tackling the dishes.
"So, who's up for board games?" Honey calls out. She's sprawled against Christopher's knees, and from the looks of the two empty paper plates in front of her, Carol wonders how she has the energy to perk up like she is. Teenage metabolism, she supposes.
"Drag a few out and see who wants to play, once the food's put up," Merle suggestions.
Honey rolls to her feet and snags the disposable plates and utensils from everyone in her vicinity before going off to return with an actual garbage bag to offer up to everyone else. She's grinning and Carol's puzzled until Merle leans in to mutter in her ear. "She's taking trash duty so someone else gets to put away food and do the dishes."
It makes Carol giggle softly at the young woman's forethought. Honey's a hard worker, but she likes to joke a lot about working smarter, not harder. She has the balcony diners roused to throw away their items as well. Normally, Carol would hate to toss the plates when no one's eaten dessert, but she doesn't suppose they use them often enough to worry about landfill levels in a world that's lost almost all population.
Honey's also got the others moving. Jazz, Sophia, Isabelle, and Carl come trotting down the stairs and begin sorting food into takeout containers, each treating the food like a buffet again. She realizes they're setting up variety plates for people to take with them and figures if anything's left more than they want to eat, she'll take them down to the community center fridges. There's always someone looking for a meal off-cycle that will take care of leftovers. Beth and Jimmy go to divvy up the pies and cake into clear little clamshells, and Carol wonders who planned ahead for that so she can thank them.
It takes the teenagers less than ten minutes to have all the serving dishes and pans empty and stacked along the counter by the sink. Stacking the food that can't sit outpost into the fridge takes a little more creativity, but they manage with what she hears Jazz mutter is like Tetris with food boxes.
What impresses her the most is that no adult seems to be directly involved in the process, but she wouldn't be surprised if Patricia arranged it ahead of time.
With the table wiped down, the game cabinet is raided, with the usual favorites landing on the table. Carol knows for sanity's sake, the kids are probably going to pick a few and head downstairs, leaving the adults to play. They do, although a couple of adults join in, when Christopher, Jamie, and Amy follow. Honey stays upstairs, surprisingly, coming to steal the seat Maggie vacates as she volunteers she and Glenn for dishes.
She curls into Carol's side, a little bit of a feat since she's as tall as Merle and about six inches taller than Carol herself. She has her head on Carol's chest as if she were a much smaller child, humming softly. Carol angles her arm up to pet her hair like she would if Jazz or Sophia curled up against her, enjoying the extended contact. Honey's as tactile as her siblings and dispenses hugs freely, but she's never just relaxed against Carol like this.
As the others start splitting off into smaller groups to play cards, a board game, or even debate if anyone wants to sit through a movie, Carol glances up to Merle and sees he's smiling down at them both. He leans in for a kiss, the movement of which causes Honey to grumble.
But then there's a quiet question: "When will you two actually get married?"
She doesn't sound worried, although a little subdued. She was as excited as Sophia when the ring made its appearance, but it seems their lack of forward progress or discussion is making her pensive.
They haven't set an official date for it between them, although they've thought about Christmas, since everyone will already be festive. So that's what she tells the girl curled against her.
"Good." She reaches out and actually brushes her fingers across the ring and doesn't seem like she's worried about moving away anytime soon. Carol wonders for a minute if her clearing the younger ones out of the room was deliberate so she could ask the question. She could see Honey designating herself as the seeker of information for their children as a collective.
Carol looks up at Merle, knowing she committed the date, but he's smiling and reaches down to play with the ring too, so that she ends up with them both holding her left hand.
This is a tiny slice of heaven, she thinks.
~*~ GR ~*~
"You got a minute, Glenn?" Glenn turns from putting away the last dish he dried as Cricket's dish helper and nods.
Hershel leads them out onto the back deck. No one's ventured outside, even though the weather's actually quite nice for November, so they've got it all to themselves when Hershel motions for him to take a seat at the patio table.
"Did you need something?" he asks. He's been with Maggie, lived with Maggie, long enough now not to feel completely anxious about a private conversation with her father, but there's still a little ball of it taking up residence in his gut.
"Just wanted to have a little talk, it being a family holiday and all. You did good sending me to talk to Abraham." The man's steady gaze is kindly in a way Glenn never experienced from his own father. "He's not the only one might be missing family on a day like today. You got anyone out there, son?"
"Not sure. My family was up in Michigan. Dad, mom, four sisters. I came down here for college and never went back." He wasn't entirely welcome, after dropping out of college. He could go home, but it would be back to the expectations he only partly escaped in coming to Atlanta.
"We can always hope the government held things together better up there, or they found a safe haven. Four sisters is a lot of family. Guess that's why you fit in so well with the Dixon girls."
"Yeah. Two younger, two older. Lana, Corinne, Charlotte, and Emily." He rubs at the surface of the table, studying the weathering pattern instead of looking at Hershel. "Lana's an accountant, Corinne a teacher, both married, but only Lana has kids so far. Charley's still in college at Michigan State, had another year to go on her biochemistry degree." He's quiet for a minute, thinking of his youngest sister.
"And Emily?"
"She's Beth's age." He smiles sadly at Hershel. "None of them have the kind of skills you need for this. My parents are first generation immigrants from Korea, but they lived in the city there and here. Add in that Lana's got two kids under five... I want to hope I'll hear something from them one day, but I can't keep hoping for it."
"I suppose that's fair enough. But the dead can't walk forever, so maybe one day you'll find out they're as resourceful as you are."
"I sure hope so."
"Our family, they came over from Ireland. My grandfather was the first generation here for my family. Saved up and bought that farm I raised my family on." Hershel pulls a pocket watch out, turning it over in his hands. "My grandfather brought this over from Ireland with him. He passed it on to my father, and my father passed it to me. Pawned it once, for nothing more than a night of drinking."
He laughs and Glenn does too, a little nervously. "You bought it back though."
"Josephine did. Maggie's late mama. She was always smarter than I was about such things, so she kept it hidden until I sobered up." Hershel opens the watch, running a thumb across the glass face. "She was a good woman, my Jo. Maggie's got all her fire and determination. Got her heart too."
He closes the watch and studies Glenn solemnly. "One thing you won't understand until it's your little girl is that no man is ever good enough for her, until you finally meet the one that is." He reaches out and grabs Glenn's wrist where he's stopped picking at the surface of the table and lays the watch in it. "I've watched you, son. With Maggie, with Beth, with your adopted sisters. That's what you look for in a good man, how he treats the women who love him."
Glenn swallows hard, pulling the watch closer. The weight in his hand feels far more than metal and glass, as if its history weighs so much more. "Thank you," he says softly.
"Shawn would have really liked you. He wasn't my son by blood, but I intended him to have it one day. He'd want you to have it just like I do. He'd also tell you to quit fiddling around with that ring you've got hidden away before Maggie ends up proposing to you like her mother did me." The older man smiles a little sadly. "Now head back inside and enjoy your day with family."
Sliding the watch protectively in his pocket, Glenn does as he's bidden, looking back to see the bearded veterinarian staring off into the distance. He hesitates to leave him alone, until Patricia meets him at the door. She's damn near waddling, her pregnant belly seeming to indicate imminent baby rather than six more weeks. She has a fleece throw over her arm. "Go find your lady, Glenn. I'll go sit a while with him."
Assured that the man who just declared him worth one of his most precious daughters won't be alone, Glenn rests his fingers on the watch through his jeans and smiles.
~*~ SP ~*~
Sophia's sitting on one of the unused bunks, with Jazz stretched out with his head on her lap facing outward. He's fast asleep, but she's still playing idly with his silky soft hair. The big group downstairs is spread out now, the board games long since abandoned in favor of smaller activities. Amy and Jamie are still here, which is why she won't be in trouble for being in the bunk area. The couple are watching a movie over on the sectional. Beth's beside them with Andre asleep in her lap, where the little boy asked to stay the night with 'his Bethy' and Michonne agreed with a smile.
Most of the kids are playing cards, a game Jimmy calls 'bullshit' that involves successfully lying about your cards. The older kids are losing badly to Al and Abby in the game. She thought Daryl would get mad when Abby plays a game that requires her to use a curse word, but he only laughed and told her it was an allowed exception.
Patrick's in his bunk asleep. Like Jazz, he was up really early, so they just kinda ran out of steam.
Carl's sitting on the floor in front of the bunk Sophia's sitting on, playing solitaire. She nudges him with her socked foot. "Gonna miss the five on the six," she hints.
He nods and moves the card just as Honey comes down the back stairway. The older teenager is grinning as she drops down to sit across from Carl.
"Christmas."
Sophia and Carl both frown at her, wondering why she's talking about Christmas already.
"They're getting married on Christmas."
"Oh, wow." Sophia's squeal gets everyone's attention and wakes the two sleeping boys. She feels a bit sorry for that, but it's not the first time Jazz lost sleep for family news.
He frowns at Honey, still half asleep, so she repeats it. "Dad and Mom are getting married on Christmas day."
The excitement spreads in the room. Maybe Patricia's kids aren't 'official' Dixons and neither is Beth and Amy's only half there by dating Jamie, but everyone's grinning.
"We should figure out something cool to do for them," she suggests. "Because if it's Christmas, they're trying not to make a big deal."
Honey nods and most of the others look interested, even Jimmy, who normally tries to play it cool about things like this. "Gonna put you in charge of that, Pipsqueak. Get some ideas together."
Sophia makes a face at her for the nickname she's snagged from Daryl, but they know she'll agree. Honey goes to join the folks watching the movie and Patrick and Jazz return to sleep before Carl speaks.
"Hey, Sophia?"
"What?"
"You think your mom is gonna have a baby like mine? They're the same age, kinda."
Sophia thinks of all the times she wanted a little brother or sister and knew it wasn't safe for one at her house. But now, that's different. "I dunno. But I hope so. It'd be nice not to be the baby of the family."
"You got Abby. And my new sister too, sorta."
"I guess." She leans her head against the headboard. The family tree is a bit confusing. Some days she's not sure if Abby's her cousin or niece and neither is anyone else.
"Sophia?" Carl's voice is lower now, and he sounds a bit sad. She looks up to see he's pushed his cards in a pile, giving up on the game.
"What's wrong?"
"Do you think my mom and Daryl are gonna get married too?"
"They might. You could always ask Daryl. Would you want them too?"
"At first, not really. Not because he's not cool or anything, but because things were so weird about the baby. I mean, there's Dad, and Uncle Shane, and then Scout, and it's just a lot of things changed just in my family. I mean, I thought Dad was dead and then he wasn't, but it didn't fix things." He sighs. "It was really bad for a while, especially with Mom. I guess I'm afraid they'll break up and it'll be bad again."
"Well, that can happen even if they don't get married, right?"
"I guess so. I remember Mom's friend sat on the couch crying half the weekend once when her boyfriend broke up with her."
"I guess it was easier for me cos I really liked the idea of Mama and Daddy together. Daddy was scary sometimes at the quarry cos of the drugs, but never scary like Ed. And Mama smiles all the time now. And sings and hums and she's just so happy. Is your mom happy like that?"
Carl thinks it over for a minute. "Yeah. I think she is. Maybe it'll be okay if they get married."
She fluffs Jazz's hair and smiles at her friend. "Don't think they'll get married before your sister is born though."
"Why's that?"
She giggles. "You are such a boy. No woman wants to get married when she's big and pregnant." Or at least that's what all the magazines and TV shows seem to imply that Sophia's seen. She thinks her mother might not care, but there's a set date now and no baby, so Carol won't have to worry about that.
He takes it as good sense and nods. "She does complain she feels like a beached whale sometimes and says she can't see her feet." He yawns. "You want something to drink?"
When she agrees, he wanders off to the fridge, leaving her to just smile in happiness about the upcoming wedding that she can feel clear down to her feet.