There were other women nearby and available to start setting the table and preparing for dinner, but something – something nudging at her subconscious - propelled Rosita to go to Sasha's room. She knocked on the door somewhat hesitantly, not exactly sure why she felt the need to invite Sasha to the cafeteria at that moment.
"Come on in, door's open," Sasha called out. Rosita entered and looked around at the empty living room.
"I'm in here!" Sasha called from the bathroom.
Rosita stood in the doorway and watched a moment as Sasha alternately ran a wide-toothed comb through her hair and then twirled some sections around her finger. Sasha looked into the mirror and spoke to Rosita's reflection. "Turns out that jar of cocoa butter Abraham gave me for Christmas is also the perfect remedy for taming down this frizz a bit." She set down the comb and ran her fingers through her hair while shaking her head. "There, that's better, don't you think?" Sasha said aloud.
Rosita looked at the headful of shiny symmetrical spiral curls Sasha had unleashed. "Yeah, lookin' good," she replied.
"That was so thoughtful of Abraham," Sasha continued as she washed the excess product off of her hands. "Of all the men, actually," she added, "to take the time to think of, y'know, and actually choose specific presents for us."
"Yes, very thoughtful," Rosita mumbled softly. She was trying to understand this strange feeling in her gut. She couldn't quite wrap her mind around the rush of thoughts assaulting her mind. "Um, we're gettin' ready to set the tables and get prepped for dinner…"
"OK, I'll be right there," Sasha replied.
Rosita walked back to the cooking area outside of the cafeteria. She saw Allison watching over the cut-up goose on the grill, and Michonne discussing the finer points of roasting a whole bird with Noah and Carl. Even though there had been no "official" announcement, it was pretty well known around the camp that Rick and Michonne had a "thing". She walked into the cafeteria and Carol greeted her by immediately instructing her as to what plates and utensils to set out.
"I don't know why my mind and my heart won't let me rest," she thought to herself as she set dishes on the table. "I wish my abuela was here to talk sense to me." As she continued to assemble place settings she constructed an entire dialogue with her grandmother in her mind. "We've been together for so long, protecting one another. Whenever I was in danger, he was right there to save me."
"What is the problem then, nieta?"
"He has never actually said that he loves me."
"No crea todo lo que le dice…Actions speak louder than words. Maybe that is his way of saying he loves you."
"Quizás. Maybe. But sometimes I think that he has a wandering eye for someone else…I have no proof, just some strange feeling that bothers me…"
"Escuche la tripa. Your gut does not lie."
"Hello?!" Tara's voice interrupted Rosita's mental conversation with her grandmother.
"Huh? What?" Rosita replied.
"Are you OK?" Tara asked with a look of concern. "I just asked you three times what I could do to help."
"Sorry, I guess my mind was elsewhere. Best check with Carol to see what else needs to be done."
"I guess your mind was really elsewhere," Tara commented. "Carol left the room to go get washed up and dressed a while ago." She paused and then repeated. "Are you sure you're OK?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine, I promise," Rosita reassured Tara.
‡ ‡ ‡ ‡ ‡ ‡ ‡ ‡ ‡
"Hey!" Allison called to Noah as he wandered nearby, apparently looking for something to do. "Do you mind tending to these goose parts for a few minutes? I need to, um, take a quick break."
"Sure," Noah smiled, taking the tongs from her. "Have you pierced the skin and added Worcestershire sauce?" He asked.
"Not so far, I'll leave those finer details to you," Allison said over her shoulder as she headed back to her room.
She entered the room she shared with Daryl and found him washing his face and forearms in the bathroom sink. "Got a sec?" She asked.
"Yeah," he grunted as he buried his face into a terry cloth towel.
She paused and tried to collect her thoughts, thinking of where to start this conversation. "I had a conversation with Merle earlier," she began, "and…"
"And?" Daryl turned around abruptly to face her.
"…and he's wanting to marry Beth." She held up a hand to stop Daryl as she saw he was gathering for an explosion. "I know, I know that you and your brother have had a, well, dysfunctional relationship, to put it mildly…and by the way, realizes that for whatever it's worth."
Daryl stood still for a few moments to catch his breath. Finally he asked, "So what's your point?"
"Please, please, just try to calm down and listen to me equably – and yes, I threw in one of 'my words' just to hopefully some tension…."
Daryl couldn't help but give her s quick grin. He walked over to one of the couches in the living room and sat down. "So, what do you want from me?"
"Not me, necessarily, but your brother. He'd like you to be his Best Man when he marries Beth. But," she added with emphasis, "what he really wants is for you to accept that he truly loves Beth. That he wants to marry her because he loves her and wants to protect her and take care of her." She reached out and clasped one of Daryl's hands in both of hers. "To be honest, I think that he's learned a lot about what a true relationship is all about, after seeing Glenn and Maggie and you and me…" She gently stroked the top of his hand with her thumb. "…and Mr. Hershel did tell me once upon a time that of all of Beth's suitors – Jimmy, Zach – that he was most comfortable with Merle courting her, which is why he never actively discouraged her from befriending him."
"Well," Daryl's thoughts were scattered every which way, "those other guys, Jimmy and Zach, they were just kids."
"Right," Allison agreed. "Testosterone on two legs."
"But they were closer to her age – "
"But still kids," Allison said with quiet emphasis. "Even if they'd survived, would they be able to take care of Beth like Merle has done so far? Think about it – he made a special trip to a music store to find tuning forks so that I could test her hearing. That's something you would have done for me, granted. But would Zach have had the wherewithal to think along those lines?"
"Mmmph," was all Daryl could manage to grunt.
"And," Allison softened her tone of voice, "In case you haven't noticed, Beth has sort of 'taken care' of Merle as well. His age doesn't seem to bother her, and I've seen her rub ointment on his stump."
Daryl's eyes flitted every which way and then stared directly at Allison's big blues. "You think she genuinely cares for him? I mean, not just 'cause he's one of the few – "
"Sweetie, I think she made her feelings clear long before our group was reduced to X amount of available men." She smiled at him and added, "Sometimes the heart wants what the heart wants."
"I s'pose," Daryl said after a long pause. "I mean, I guess he'd never hurt her or anything, and we can't expect to eventually find Mr. Perfect for Beth…"
"Who knows," Allison asked rhetorically, "maybe time will tell that Merle is Mr. Perfect when it comes to Beth."