Jackson sits down at the picnic table at the end of the bench next to Beth and across from Carol with his plate of smoked wild turkey and the mashed potatoes Carol blended using three cans of potatoes, powdered milk, chopped wild onions, salt, and garlic powder. "I noticed Daryl didn't come back with you from the forest this afternoon," she says.
"He didn't want to give up the hunt. We only managed to bag three squirrels. He insisted on staying until he got some quail."
"Why quail?" Beth asks.
"Well…he said Carol is getting tired of fish and venison, and that she's never cared much for squirrel stew." He turns from Beth to Carol. "And I guess you two have some kind of a date tomorrow?"
"We do," Carol says with a smile, though she's a little surprised Daryl told Jackson that. She wasn't sure if he would take her it's a date comment seriously. But the idea that he's actually trying to find something she likes for the dinner is encouraging.
"I wish I had some kind of date tomorrow," Beth says wistfully.
[*]
Carl and Lori are already collecting the plates when Daryl finally strolls down the shore, a string of three birds slung over his shoulder. He disappears onto the dock and up the ramp to their houseboat, so Carol brings him the untouched plate she fixed him.
When she gets down below deck, he has a large pot of water heating on the stove. The three quail lie splayed out on the counter. He grabs one of the quail by its feet, dips it in the hot water, and swirls it vigorously while bobbing it up and down. Water splashes onto the little stove top.
"I brought you some dinner," she says as she sets the plate on the table. "We ate well tonight. This is the last of the turkey. Other than the gizzards. Rick let Beth have them to make gizzard stew for her and Hershel tomorrow."
"Hell you mean, Rick let Beth have 'em? When did he become the food police?" He slaps the wet quail on the counter and picks up another and bobs and swirls it. "Jackson and I hunt that turkey, you season and smoke it, and Rick gets to decide who gets the leftovers?"
"Well, you weren't there to challenge him. And it doesn't bother me if Beth takes them. It didn't seem to bother Jackson, either. in fact, he suggested she take them."
Daryl has moved onto the third quail now. After swirling and bobbing, he slaps it down on the counter.
"What does that do?" she asks. He's shown her how to skin a squirrel and a snake, and how to set a small game trap, but she's never watched him prepare birds before. "All the swirling and bobbing?"
"Makes 'em easier to pluck." He turns off the burner, picks up one of the wet birds, and uses his fingers and thumbs to rub the feathers away.
She takes the second quail and follows his example, but the feathers don't come off as easily for her. "Did you get these quail special for our big date tomorrow night?"
He flushes. "Well, said you like quail."
"I do. Especially when it's wrapped in bacon."
"Yeah, well, I ain't found a wild hog. Could wrap it in Spam. We still got three cans."
"Please don't."
Daryl takes out his hunting knife and cuts off the head and lower legs of his plucked bird. Then he digs around in the body cavity and pulls the entrails free. "I got this," he tells her.
"I should learn," she says.
"Told you I'd cook for ya tomorrow. This is part of it."
"Okay then." She goes to the sink to wash her hands and then fills a glass with sun tea from a big glass jar and sets it by his plate on the table.
His work now done, he puts the cleaned quail carcasses in their refrigerator, right on top of a Tupperware container of leftover bean soup from yesterday's lunch. It will be tomorrow's lunch, too.
"We do have saran wrap," she tells him as he begins rolling up his sleeves. "It might be more sanitary than just tossing raw meat in the fridge."
"Plastic? Don't you care nothing 'bout the environment?" He flicks on the faucet, squeezes some dish soap onto his hands, and begins scrubbing up.
"Well, I wasn't planning to toss the saran wrap in the lake later. You want me to microwave your dinner? It's cold now."
"Nah. Be fine cold." He slaps off the faucet and begins drying his hands with a dish towel while she pours herself a glass of sun tea and sits down at the two person table.
He sits down across from her and immediately drains the ice tea with a satisfied ahhh.
"I'll get you a refill," she says as he digs into his food. "You don't stop to drink enough when you're out there, do you?"
He doesn't respond to that, but when she sets his refilled glass down, he drains another half of it. She sits down again at takes a sip of her onw. When he's between bites, he asks, "You have a fun date last night?" he asks. His tone is a mixture between sarcastic and bitter.
"I did. It was very enjoyable."
"Y'all spent a lot of time below deck, huh?"
"Were you spying on us?"
"What? No. Just…I was on watch was all." He stabs a piece of turkey.
"It wasn't your scheduled watch. You finished off Rick's watch."
"'Cause Rick's got a pregnant wife at home."
"Very generous of you," Carol observes. "And while you happened to be on watch, you happened to notice how much time I spent below deck?"
"Just noticed y'all went below deck. And you were still there when Glenn traded off with me an hour later. Ain't like stayed up to see when you came home."
She thinks he did stay up, because there was a light seeping from under his bedroom door when she got in, and it went off when she clicked on the living room lamp. "Do you want to ask what we were doing below deck?"
"Ain't my business." He chews hard and swallows down his last bit of food. "You're a big girl."
Trying not to show how amused she is, Carol bites down on her smile. "I am. I am a big girl. All grown up. But in case you're interested, we were playing games."
He looks at her through half-lowered eyelids. "Like spin the bottle?"
Carol lets out a sharp laugh and covers her mouth.
"So damn funny?" he asks.
"Have you ever heard of a two grown adults playing spin the bottle?"
Daryl shrugs and lays his fork on his empty plate.
"When was the last time you went on a date, Pookie? Junior high?"
He pushes his plate aside and crosses his arms defensively over himself.
"Also, I think spin the bottle with two people defeats the purpose, don't you?"
"Ain't the purpose to make out?" he asks.
"Well, I suppose you're right there. Did you ever play spin the bottle when you were a kid?"
"Once," he mutters. "At this neighborhood July 4th barbecue. Some of the kids…out on the back porch…they got a game going."
"How old were you?"
"Fourth grade."
"Was it your first kiss?" she asks.
"Nah. When Cindy Hayes spun the bottle, landed on me. And she said, screamed, 'Eww, hell no, not a Dixon!' And then she got up off the porch and ran away."
Carol frowns. "That was mean."
He shrugs. "Don't blame her. She was almost middle-class. Her family moved up. Got out. And mine...well, we just kept going farther down."
"Well, if it's any assurance, T-Dog and I did not play spin the bottle. We played Yahtzee and then Parcheesi."
"Sounds like a boring date."
She stands and takes his plate. "Well, I guess that means you have a much more exiting one planned for us tomorrow then, huh?" She winks, and he looks into his glass.
[*]
In the morning Jackson strolls down the dock, rifle on his shoulder, toward the houseboat Daryl is just now exiting. Daryl walks toward him and yells, "Catch!" before tossing him the keys to the pick-up truck.
Jackson reacts quickly, and does manage to catch them, though he almost drops his rifle.
"You're driving," Daryl tells him.
"We're hunting in some other forest today? Why?"
"Hunting supplies." They still have six pounds of venison, eight fish filets, and several cans of food in communal storage, plus whatever each household had in its private fridges. The hunting can wait a day.
Rick, who is on watch, opens the shore gate for them and then walks over to speak through the open window of the passenger's side. "See if you can find some baby formula while you're out there."
"Ain't Lori gonna feed it from her tits?" Daryl asks.
"Elegantly phrased," Rick replies. "I hear you have a hot date with Carol tonight."
Daryl sits up straighter in his seat. "Does the whole damn camp know?"
"It's a small town. Have you ever been on an actual date before?"
"Been on dates!" Daryl insists.
Rick smirks. "That didn't involve a bar with sawdust on the floor?"
"Shut up." The truth is, Daryl hasn't been on a date before, not a real date, not one where he cooked dinner for some woman and had to make conversation with her. "Ain't exactly rocket science."
"Mhmh." Rick nods. "Well, formula if you can find it. Just in case something goes wrong." He swallows hard and grits his jaw, and it occurs suddenly to Daryl how terrified he must be about this impending birth.
"Ain't nothin' gonna go wrong," Daryl assures him. "We're prepared."
Rick nods, taps the roof of the truck, and steps back. Jackson drives through the open gate and Rick swings it shut behind him.
"We've already cleaned out what was left in the drugstores and grocery stores in Clayton," Jackson says as he drives down the gravel road winding its way through two walls of trees away from the lake and toward the highway. "And they didn't have any formula. Should we try Midway?"
Daryl unfolds a map and spreads it out on the dash. "Nah, let's go to Troy."
"That far?"
"Ain't that far. An hour."
"The way you drive, maybe."
"Wanna check out a winery near there." Daryl stabs his finger on the map. "Found a flyer for it in the boat rental office."
A dimple pocks Jackson's cheek as he smiles. "Trying to get Carol drunk tonight?"
Daryl glares at him.
Jackson smile wavers. "You're just trying to be romantic. I get it. And we're all out of wine. I'm sure the others will be happy if we come back with some. Well, except Hershel."
"And Lori and Maggie." They can't drink now that they're knocked up. "And Beth don't drink."
"Well, she doesn't around Hershel anyway."
Daryl turns his head. "What's that mean?"
Jackson shrugs. "When I got off watch last night, she stopped me on the dock. She had a beer from somewhere and wanted to share it with me."
"Thought you hated beer."
"I do. And I try not to drink in general, because, you know…I don't need another addiction. I took one sip. She was the one who drank it." Jackson turns off the gravel road onto the two-lane, paved highway and maneuvers around a lonely, rambling walker, clipping it slightly with the front bumper. In the rearview mirror, Daryl can see the walker spin and then tumble to the pavement. "She said she'd have sex with me."
"What?" Daryl sits forward in his seat.
"Don't tell Hershel, please."
"Fuck would I tell Hershel for?"
"I don't know. Just don't. I don't want some farmer's daughter scenario. I've seen him with that shotgun. And it's not like I was the one who came onto her. She just came up to me and said, if I wanted, she'd have sex with me."
"Just like that?" Daryl asks doubtfully.
"You said it happened to you. With my mom."
"Beth ain't like your mama was."
"Well, she said she feels like it's time to lose her virginity. That she wants to get it over with. I guess she and Timmy never…you know."
"Jimmy. His name was Jimmy. And what did you say?"
Jackson concentrates on the road ahead. "I said I'd think about it. She's kind of young. Seventeen. I never dated anyone younger than me before. But…she is pretty. And…I mean…there's no one else around. But I don't really want to be a guy she just gets it over with. Because if it's just the one time, then it's going to be awkward around her after. But, if it's not just the one time, and we keep doing it…well, I guess then we end up together for the rest of our lives for no reason other than that we're basically the only two single people in the world."
"There's Carl," Daryl says.
"Even my sister doesn't take him seriously, and she's closer to his age."
"Just saying. Kid's gonna be a man one day."
"Who knows if any of us will even still be here in five years," Jackson muses. "Maybe I should just seize the day and have sex with her while she's willing. Gandhi said, live as if you were to die tomorrow."
"Yeah, well, he also said, Learn as if you were to live forever."
Jackson turns his head in surprise, and then redirects his eyes to road. "You read that book of quotations I gave you?"
"Skimmed it."
"Well, one thing I have learned is women seem to get pregnant very easily around here. Why didn't Rick and Glenn use condoms?"
Rick did, Daryl's pretty sure, but Rick isn't the father. "The way Glenn and Maggie were going at it for awhile there, think Glenn just flat ran out."
"Well, I have three boxes, but condoms aren't a hundred percent reliable."
"You got condoms?"
"I picked some up from a drugstore at one point. There wasn't any reason to at the time, but I figured we might find a camp. Someone might need them. I could trade. Why, you want a box?"
Daryl flushes. "No! I mean...not tonight."
"Better safe than sorry. I mean, you had sex with my mother on the first date."
"Didn't have a first date with your mother."
"All the more reason to be prepared for an actual date."
"Ain't like that with Carol."
"Ain't like what?" Jackson asks. "You don't want to have sex with her?"
"Nah. Yeah! No, I mean...I just mean sex ain't happening tonight. Not on a first date. Not with Carol."
"You respect her," Jackson says simply. "You're not going to try to make that move tonight. But what if she offers?"
"She ain't gonna offer."
"But what if she does?"
"Turn left up here!" Daryl barks the words more than he means to.
Jackson raises an eyebrow at him, but makes the turn, and then he accelerates past two growling walkers down the open highway.