The women push together two tables in a corner of the sparsely inhabited tavern (it's a Monday night, after all) and crowd around. They're not far from the fireplace, which is good, because the mid-March weather is cold. Old friends from the Alliance – Carol, Michonne, Enid, and Dianne – are the participants, but Shannon joins them too. The mayor's wife knows everyone and gets along with everyone, and besides, she heard the word party.
"So I guess we're killing two birds with one stone?" Shannon asks as Gauge, the teenage waiter who replaced Candy, sets down their pints of Jamestown brew, takes his tray, and disappears.
"What does that mean?" Michonne draws her pint glass toward herself.
Shannon nods to Enid's hand, and that's when Carol first notices the diamond engagement ring. "Let's see it," Shannon insists.
Enid blushes slightly and turns her hand outward toward the women, revealing the gold ring with a small, solitaire diamond. "It's kind of silly. Such an Old World tradition. But I didn't want to hurt his feelings."
"You said yes because you didn't want to hurt Raul's feelings?" Rosita asks.
"No! I'm wearing the ring because I didn't want to hurt his feelings. I said yes because I want to marry him."
"So we're losing Raul?" Carol asks. "Santiago won't be happy."
"Neither will Gunther," Dianne says. "He's going to have to appoint another assistant farm manager."
"And Dante and Inola are going to hate losing a good construction worker," Shannon says. "Of course now we have Rosita permanently. She's great at the demolition angle."
"I do like to blow things up," Rosita agrees.
"Who said he was moving to Hilltop?" Enid asks. "We're going to live and work here in Jamestown mid-March through mid-July. Then I'll go back to the Hilltop, and Raul will stay here for the fall planting and harvest. Then he'll come back to the Hilltop after the annual trade fair."
"So you'll be apart mid-July through mid-November?" Shannon asks. "For four months a year? A long-distance marriage?"
"We can handle it. Absence makes the heart grow fonder."
"Good luck with that when kids come into the mix," Shannon tells her.
"We're in our early twenties. We're not planning on having kids for five or six years."
Shannon snorts. "Well, the best laid plans of mice and men. Carol's son just had a kid. And Sarah's pregnant, you know."
"Trust me, I know," Enid says. "Raul hasn't stopped talking about how our first kid is going to have a niece or nephew that's five years older than he or she is."
"Do they have names picked out?" Carol asks.
"Rafael if it's a boy," Enid replies. "That was Santiago's dad's name. Leana if it's a girl. That was Sarah's mother's name. But it's not due until July."
There's a brief lull in the conversation, and Carol takes the opportunity to ask Shannon, "How'd the meeting with Cyndie go?"
"Well, I marked my territory around Garland like a dog lifting its leg and pissing a circle, so I think everything's going to be just fine now."
Enid chokes on her beer, swallows it down, and lowers it to the table. "What's all this?"
"Cyndie has a little crush on my husband," Shannon says.
Dianne shrugs. "Well, Cyndie does have a thing for older, competent, and powerful men."
"See!" Shannon waves toward Carol "Dianne agrees with me!"
"I didn't say I disagreed with you." Carol did think Shannon was being Shannon at first – and teasing her husband over a nonevent. But after that awkward hug in Garland's office this morning, and Cyndie's repeat mention of dinner at the tavern, she's not so sure.
"I wouldn't be surprised if she found your husband attractive," Dianne says. "That's all I'm saying. But she's not going to chase a married man."
"She couldn't even be bothered to keep chasing Captain McBride," Rosita notes. "And he was single at the time. And that man is hot."
"You think so?" Shannon asks. "He's a little too broad for my tastes. And I guess red hair just doesn't do it for me." She chuckles and digs a hand into her own strawberry curls, lifts some, and drops them. "And I like men who are a little more subdued, believe it or not."
"Well, Garland's certainly subdued," Dianne says.
"Speaking of older, competent men of power," says Michonne, looking directly at Rosita, "Tell me how Earl convinced you to settle in Jamestown. Because when you last wrote me in December, you swore you were never giving up hot running water and electricity and that if anyone was moving anywhere it would be Earl moving to Alexandria."
"The museum has hot running water," Rosita replies. "I get one shower a week. The washing troughs aren't so bad, and, when it's not winter, the river's fine."
Michonne raises an eyebrow.
Rosita puts down her pint glass. "Okay. In late January, Earl put his foot down. He said I love you, and I want to marry you, but I'm the Sheriff of Jamestown. I have a child here. These people are Benji's family. They're my family. I'm not uprooting him, even if he is only a baby."
"And you accepted that?" Michonne asks skeptically.
"I wasn't going to, at first," Rosita says. "You know I followed a man once, all the way from Texas. Moved for him. Supported him. Stuck by his side through more shit than I can even remember anymore. And one day he just…" She shakes her head. "So I didn't want to risk that again. This time, I wanted the man to follow me. Prove he wanted me that much, you know? But the more I thought about it…Earl wasn't asking me to follow him a thousand miles without a commitment on his part. He was asking to marry me. He was asking me to put down roots with him. Here. To become a permanent part of his family and his home – to become a part of something he'll never, ever leave."
"And you like it here?" Michonne asks.
"It doesn't have the luxury of Alexandria," Rosita replies. "But it has a lot more variety. it's a town. And I'll still visit Alexandria."
"You don't miss serving on the council?" Michonne smiles lightly. "I kind of thought you liked the authority."
"I started out this apocalypse as a follower. Maybe I don't mind being a follower, as long as I can find the right people to follow."
"And you're saying Alexandria's leadership are not the right people to follow?" Michonne's face is a mixture of emotions – hurt, irritation, offense, surprise, disappointment.
"That's not what I said," insists Rosita, sitting forward and setting her pint glass down with a clink. "I mean, that's not what I meant. I just meant…I don't know. Maybe it'll be nice to take a break for a while. Live in a place big enough that's been established long enough with enough of a structure and enough leaders and security that I don't have to step up. I fell into leadership at Alexandria. We all kind of did."
Michonne sighs. "You think I wouldn't like to step back for a year?"
"Why don't you then?" Shannon asks.
"Because that's not how it works in my world. Who would step up?"
The tavern saloon doors creak open and Mitch and Aaron walk in, glance at the women, wave slightly, and head to the bar.
"Speak of the devil," Rosita says.
Michonne glances at Aaron as he sits down in the middle of the bar and raises his one good hand to order.
"Aaron just came back to Alexandria a year or so ago," Michonne says.
"Aaron's a native to Alexandria," Carol reminds her. "He's the one who brought us in, remember?"
"And we thought they were all soft," Michonne reminds her.
"But, to be honest…" Rosita draws her pint glass closer. "Thing were going pretty well without us. And then we showed up, and things all went to shit."
"They would have gone to shit anyway," Michonne insists. "But Alexandria wouldn't have survived."
"Maybe," Enid agrees, and Carol is suddenly reminded that Enid, too, was already living in Alexandria when the rest of them arrived. "Or maybe Aaron would have become the leader we needed…the leader he's become."
"That was a very different Alexandria," Michonne says. "Aaron was a recruiter. Deanna led the place, and – "
"- Sounds like maybe you don't want to step back for a year at all," Shannon observes with her Shannonesque bluntness.
Michonne seems to mull this over as she drains the last of her pint glass of beer. When she sets it down, she changes the subject. "We'll miss you, Rosita. Eugene especially."
"Eugene's got Candy now. How's that going by the way?"
"It's…interesting," Michonne replies. "It's working for them. And she's raking it in with the Candy shine. I just have to get him to stop obsessing over that baby and get back on the battery project. Candy says she'll give him a swift kick in the ass to make sure that happens." She glances at Carol. "And Garland said Jamestown will send its power engineer back with us for two weeks."
There's definitely not room for Daryl and Sweetheart on that speedboat now, Carol thinks. Not that it isn't for the best that Sweetheart stay in Jamestown for this jaunt. Carol can't wait to see her grandbaby, but she's already dreading the time apart from her own baby.
The waiter returns with another round of Jamestown brew. "We didn't order these," Michonne says.
"They're courtesy of the gentleman at the end of the bar," he replies as he sets them before the women and begins clearing the empty glasses.
"Oh no," Michonne insists. "Send them back. I'm not giving any men any ideas I want to hook up tonight."
"We'll take them," Dianne says. "Don't worry. They're just from my husband."
Michonne turns to look at the bar and scans it until she spies Gunther, who sits at the end of the L, shoulder near the wall, playing chess with Linda, who sits on a stool on the opposite side inside the bar. He lets go of a chess piece and raises his teacup to them. Michonne nods and raises her pint glass in return. Turning back, she asks, "Six drinks? Is your husband rich?"
"That's one of the town's running debates," Enid tells her. "Who's richer? Raul or Gunther?"
"Gunther doesn't look or act the part," Dianne says. "But he's got his stockpile. Especially since he doesn't drink or smoke and he grows his own tobacco. And he works a lot of overtime between the farming and the managing and the council."
"Does that bother you?" Shannon asks. "How much he works? I wish Garland would slow down."
"Not really," Dianne answers. "But we don't have two young children. Gunther spends a little time with the orphan he sponsors, but it's nothing like raising your own. And to be honest, I'm an introvert."
"Shocking," Shannon says with a smile.
"I enjoy my time to myself. And we still have plenty of time together."
"So there's overtime pay in Jamestown?" Michonne asks.
"Well, not for Garland," Shannon says. "Not for the mayor. He gets paid 20 hours even if he's working 40. There used to be a cap of 15 hours on pay. And he used to work even more before he had Carol to help him out."
"Why's that?" Michonne asks. "Such a low pay cap?"
"No one wants a professional political class. No one wants the mayor getting rich off pencil pushing while they're out breaking their backs in the fields or on the ships. So the Mayor gets paid twenty hours. The Council gets paid ten hours. And Garland says the lieutenant mayor gets fourteen hours now?"
Carol nods.
"How did you get Carolyn to approve those extra four hours?" Shannon asks.
"It wasn't easy," Carol admits.
"Gunther doesn't get paid for all of his overtime either," Dianne says. "But that's because half of it he's actually working for his workers, when they're sick or have a sick kid and he doesn't want them to lose hours toward their rations. But with him inheriting the cabin from Ernesto, and his side garden, and me working full-time, too, well…we're set."
"So you're buying the next round, too?" Rosita asks.
"I didn't say that."
"Maybe Mitch and Aaron will buy us the next round," Enid says loudly enough to be heard at the bar.
Aaron half turns on his stool. "There are too many of you!" he calls. "But the new bride can have a pint on me. And the bride-to-be." He raises his pint, and Linda, hearing, this, leaves the chess board to draw two more pints for Rosita and Enid.
Rosita and Enid raise their pint glasses back to him.
"I'm going to be so buzzed," Enid says as she sets hers down. "I've never had three beers in one night in my life."
Rosita scoffs. "Amateur."
"I was fourteen when it started," Enid reminds her.
"Yeah, but all the beer wasn't looted yet. Are you telling me you and that Alexandria boy never snuck a six pack up into that attic?"
"Ron?" Enid asks. "He never left the gates to loot. And I was looting more valuable stuff."
"How do you like being a part of the gay triumvirate at Hilltop?" Rosita asks.
"They can't call it that anymore," Enid replies. "And I'm not really part of it. It's more of a diarchy, and I'm like…the chief advisor. I like it just fine. But, honestly, I don't how much Jesus does. I think he just kind of fell into it, you know? Like you said, Michonne, people don't always want to step up. And things aren't going quite as smoothly since Aaron left. But we're doing all right, all in all."
The saloon doors creak open again and bootsteps tread across the planks. It's Deputy Andrew, and he doesn't notice the women at the pushed-together tables by the fireplace. He struts toward the bar and raises a hand. "Pint, please."
"Aren't you on duty?" asks Carol, raising her voice to be heard.
Andrew's hand freezes in the air. He turns and looks at the women at the table. "For the birthday girl, I meant."
"What birthday girl?" Carol asks.
"You're not celebrating a birthday?"
"We're celebrating Rosita's wedding," Shannon says. "And Enid's engagement. So you can buy two pints for the table."
"Uh…okay." He turns back to the bar. "Two pints for the table."
"No way I can drink a fourth pint," Enid murmurs.
"Don't worry, I'll drink it for you," Shannon says.
After Andrew pays for the pints, and asks if there are any problems to report in the tavern, he begins to return to his rounds. Gunther slips off his stool as Linda packs up the chess board. "Andrew," he calls, "a word? Let me walk with you."
"Uh…okay," Andrew says, looking curious as to why Gunther would want a word with him.
When Gunther nears him by the saloon doors, he puts a hand on Andrew's shoulder. "It's about Trisha. And you're husbandly obligations." He reaches out, shoves the creaking saloon door open, and ushers Andrew out.
Shannon chuckles. "I guess Andrew's getting an earful about staying out late at night and making Trisha do everything for Little John."
It's after ten when Michonne and Carol get back to the Dixon cabin, giggling slightly. There's a lot of shushing of each other as Carol shuts the door behind them. Sweetheart is asleep, and so is Daryl. A blanket and pillow have already been left on the couch for Michonne, and the fire is burning low and gently in the fireplace. "See you in the morning!" Carol whispers, or think she does, before slipping behind the drapes, unsteadily stepping out of her shoes, and crawling, clothes still on, into bed beside Daryl.
He rolls over, drapes an arm around her, and murmurs, "Have fun?"
"I did."
"Mhmmm." He scoots a little closer and whispers in her ear. "How drunk are ya?"
"Drunk enough to lie here while you have your way with me. Too drunk to respond much."
"Well that ain't no fun," he mutters, and rolls back on his side and goes to sleep.