As part of their Christmas "gift" the men helped to collect all the plates, pans and utensils and carried them to the sink after dinner was finished. Their plan was to do all the dish-washing, but after just a few minutes both Carol and Maggie sent them all running.
"No, no, you have to rinse first before putting it in the soapy water - !" Maggie said, grabbing a pot from Glenn.
"That's a drying towel, not a dishrag!" Carol exclaimed, catching Eugene's hand in mid-air.
"I did not know that we would be micro-managed in the cleaning-up process," Eugene grumbled as he stepped back from the sink.
"We appreciate all you've done, really," Rosita said, trying to keep the peace, "but we've got sort of a routine when it comes to the stuff we use to eat. Our own assembly line process."
"So, in other words, off you go," Sasha added, shooing the men out of the room.
"That was really kinda sweet of the men to go to the trouble to arrange a secret gift exchange," Tara commented later as she dried a plate. "I mean, since they do so much of the hunting and hauling and toting of stuff.."
"Oh, please," Carol rolled her eyes as she aggressively scrubbed a pan. She looked around and saw everyone's eyes focused on her. "OK, it's nice that they take care of us they way that they do. But how many times have we gotten praise or even acknowledgement – other than tonight – for all the work that we do?" She paused and focused back on her Brillo pad. "I remember when Ed expected some kind of medal because he'd been at work all day and sold a few cars. Like me staying at home, cooking and cleaning and taking care of a baby wasn't 'work'."
"Good point," Rosita agreed, "but let's face it, men have that machismo culture. They have a need to be praised and told that they've done good." Her face grew wistful, as though she was recalling a sad memory. "Sometimes no matter how hard the woman works at home, it keeps peace in the home to give the man his 'gold medal' just for keeping a job and coming home at night."
"To be honest," Michonne said, "we women take our share of guard duty on top of cooking and cleaning."
"But the men keep us safe," Beth spoke up. Unwanted memories of her time at Grady Memorial – the "rape culture" that existed there - bubbled up to the front of her brain. She shook her head as if to physically dismiss them. "There are some very bad people out there, who do bad things to women. We're lucky that we have a group of men who treat us with respect and also protect us."
"Who knows," Sasha remarked, placing a stack of dry plates into a cabinet, "if the world had never Turned, how many of us would be holding down nine-to-five jobs right now while also cooking and cleaning for a husband or boyfriend or what have you. They'd come home and complain about how hard their day was and then maybe also complain that you were serving microwaved leftovers for dinner…"
"You used to be a firefighter, right?" Tara asked Sasha. She paused after receiving an affirmative nod. "I'm just thinking…unless you married a fellow firefighter or police officer, who understood what you did every day, your husband would probably expect you to, well, wash his underwear and clothes and have dinner ready when he came home from work. You think?" She left her statement as an open-ended question.
"Most likely," Sasha replied. "I mean, I had very few female friends whose husbands or boyfriends completely shared the household chores." She rinsed out a pot and double-checked it to make sure there was no baked-on crust left. "I hadn't thought about this for a long time, but I remember a friend of mine from college, Denise. She'd worked as a flight attendant for many years and then married a pilot. She transferred to a job at the reservations desk at the airport so that she could be home to take care of everything and have dinner ready at whatever time her husband was going to arrive home. Denise and I would get together with a few of our friends every few months for drinks and dinner and she eventually loosened up enough to complain about her husband…how he was very 'strict' and verbally abusive and always putting her down. He told her many times that as a Black man with a prestigious job she was lucky he stayed with her because he could easily find a White woman who would take better care of him."
"Damn," Michonne muttered.
"Sad thing was, her own family didn't support her – her mother agreed with her husband about how fortunate she was." She paused and placed the pot she'd washed into a cabinet. "Luckily her story had a happy ending, sort-of…one night her husband came home and complained that his dinner wasn't on the table and she poured a pot of beef stew over his head before kicking his ass to the curb!" All the women gasped with laughter. "So, you know, when you think about it," Sasha continued, "the world was kinda screwed up before The Turn, and, like Beth said, we are privileged to have a group of men who do protect and respect us."
"Good point," Michonne remarked, silently thinking of the sexual harassment she'd put up with back in her days as an attorney, "we had electricity and food delivery and manicure salons back then, but to be honest, we also had men who worked with us who seemed to spend every waking moment making rude X-rated jokes and then asking 'can't you take a joke?!' when we were offended."
"That does it," Maggie said, drying the last large pot and setting it in the cupboard. She turned and faced the others. "Isn't it sort of, I dunno, mind-boggling…when The Turn first happened, we all thought that the world as we knew it ended, turned upside-down or whatever. But now when we really stop and think about it, in some ways it's gotten better. I mean as far as people working together and taking care of one another."
They all squeezed out their sponges and hung up their towels to dry. "We should probably keep this discussion to ourselves," Carol commented as they departed. "Don't want the men to get all full of themselves or anything." There were chuckles of agreement as they all headed toward their rooms.
‡ ‡ ‡ ‡ ‡ ‡ ‡ ‡ ‡
Beth was slowly making her way back to her room, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Suddenly something made her look up and she saw Merle in the distance, apparently returning from watch duty. "Merle!" she cried out as softly as possible. They all were still conscious about noise and attracting Walkers.
"Princess!" His gruff voice responded. "What are you doing out here at this time of night?"
"Just finished cleaning up the dishes and stuff," she replied as he got closer to her. She looked up into his eyes and shyly added, "I have a special Christmas present for you…I didn't want to give it to you at dinner…"
She reached into the pocket of her jeans and produced a small tissue-wrapped parcel. Merle struggled to open it not only because he only had one hand but also because he was also caught completely by surprise. Beth reached over and helped him remove the paper. Inside was a silver ring. Upon closer inspection the wide band Merle noticed that there was some sort of engraving on it. "It's an infinity symbol," Beth explained. "When I was in high school, we called this a 'promise ring'. But you can consider it a friendship ring, if you want." She slipped it onto his ring finger, but it was a bit too big. "I don't want you to lose it," she said while she placed it on his middle finger, where it fit snugly. She then bent his other fingers down and left the middle finger stretched out. She giggled. "Doesn't that make it the perfect Merle ring?" she asked.
Merle held his hand close to his face to examine the ring. He couldn't control the tears that suddenly started flowing.
"Oh, Beth, it's beautiful…."
"I just wanted to give you something to remind you of me," she said with that smile that never failed to turn his brain into mush. "I mean, as time goes on and we meet more people…there might be some girl prettier than me that – "
"You just hush right now," Merle said in a stern voice. "There ain't or never will be any woman on God's Green Earth more beautiful than you." He gulped and then pulled Beth into a hug that almost restricted her breathing. "I love you, Princess," he whispered.