Judith roasts a large, lumpy homemade marshmallow over one of the oil-can bonfires in the Kingdom's courtyard. "I like this way of using pig skins better than making pork rinds," she says.
"Blasphemy," Daryl tells her.
Carol snakes an arm around his waist and with her free hand raises her mug of hot chocolate to her lips for a sip. It tastes more like chocolate-flavored tea than she remembers hot chocolate tasting, and she's not sure how it was made, but she's still enjoying the warmth of it.
In the center of the courtyard looms a naturally grown evergreen tree that has been lit by candles, like something out of a storybook about 17th Century Germany. She hopes someone is keeping an eye on that thing so it doesn't catch fire, but it certainly is beautiful.
On the other side of the bonfire from Judith, R.C. carefully holds his marshmallow far enough from the flames to brown it lightly, while Hershey extends his so far that it catches fire. The little boy jerks out the stick, blows violently on it to put out the flames, and then frowns at the black mess.
"That's when they taste best," Carol assures him.
Hershey shrugs and takes a big bite out of it, jolts back, sticks out his tongue, and fans it with his hand.
"Let it cool first," Carol warns.
"Did you know when you toast mawshmellows," R.C. says, "the heat causes a chemical weaction that cweates water molecules. The water molecules evapowate, and that leaves the cawbon – "
"- Boring!" Judith interrupts.
"You're boring," R.C. replies.
"'S just got diff'rn interests," Daryl tells her, and Judith looks a little guilty.
"I for one am interested in greeting my fine guests," booms a voice from behind them.
Carol turns to find Ezekiel approaching and gives him a hug, which causes Daryl to tense slightly beside her. Ezekiel pulls away fairly quickly and extends his hand to Daryl. "Glad you could join us."
Daryl, looking wary, shakes.
"You're not enjoying the hot chocolate?" Ezekiel asks.
"Let the kids split my cup," Daryl says.
Ezekiel smiles. "Perhaps you would not have made a good Scrooge after all. How did you like my Scrooge?"
When Daryl opens his mouth but can't seem to form an answer, Carol says, "Dianne was excellent for the part. I like the creative way you mixed up genders for some of those roles. But Judith stole the show in my opinion, didn't she?" She glances at Daryl, who grunts in agreement. "Jerry was a close second."
"You enjoyed the play, then?" Ezekiel asks her.
"It was well done. I never got to go to a play in the old world. I always wanted to."
"Never?" Ezekiel asks.
"Well, not since high school. This performance was definitely a step up from those."
"I'm glad I could give you the opportunity, then."
Beside her, Daryl tenses.
Ezekiel looks across Carol and Daryl to Judith. "Where is your mother, Judith?"
"Around," Judith tells him.
"Well, I need to greet the rest of my guests. It was a pleasure to see you, Carol, as always. And you too, Daryl." He nods to them and disappears, and Carol can almost feel Daryl's tense muscles unwind beside her.
[*]
Eventually, the candles in the tree are snuffed out and the party is moved inside the large school cafeteria, which is lit by kerosene lamps and candelabras and houses another Christmas tree covered in electric white lights. Daryl thinks that's extravagant. Carol would never waste electric resources like that.
They do have a fake plastic Christmas tree they set up in the cabin, but it's not lit. He brought a real one into the cabin the first Christmas after it was built, but the tree brought too many bugs with it, and Carol said never again. So they put up the pretend thing these days. This year, Hershey and Carol decorated it with ornaments Henry made when he was learning to whittle years ago and those Hershey put together in school. There are, of course, stockings hanging from the fireplace as well, knit by Carol and labeled with pretty, curling letters. Daryl was strangely ecstatic when Carol gave him that stocking their first Christmas in the cabin, so much so that she laughed at his excitement, but he hadn't had one since his mother died when he was eight. His father didn't want to "bother" with Christmas.
"What are those lights plugged into?" Carol asks.
"Nothing," Ezekiel replies. "They're powered by lithium battery. We still have a few in storage, but half the time they're dead when we try to use them. I think this will be the last year we can hope any of them will work. So we're making the most of it." Ezekiel waves to Michonne on the other side of the cafeteria.
She doesn't notice him. She's talking to a man at the piano. Seated around the piano in blue, plastic chairs are a number of other musicians who are pausing between Christmas carols to tune their instruments. The kids have vanished to go bob for apples from a large plastic tub on the cafeteria stage, and Daryl lingers uncomfortably by Carol's side as Ezekiel continues to chat her up.
"I'm going to go find Henry," Carol says eventually. "I don't know where he disappeared to, and I know Michonne's kids will want to spend a little time with him." She leaves Daryl alone with the king.
"Can you believe Carol never got to go to a play until today?" the king asks. "I'm glad I could give her that opportunity."
Daryl grunts. He's the one who gave her that opportunity. He drove her here. She's his date.
Michonne begins to stroll sleekly toward them as the piano, guitars, and violins strike up "Deck the Halls." While Daryl lingers behind, Ezekiel strides forward to meet her partway across the floor, though he stops still and waits for her to close the gap. Then he points upward, to a mistletoe that dangles from the high cafeteria ceiling. Michonne wraps her arms around his neck, and they kiss deeply.
Daryl looks left and right to see if Carol has rejoined them, because he assumes Ezekiel is trying to make her jealous with that kiss. Ezekiel's never kissed Carol like that, at least not that Daryl's seen, not in public anyway. Their public kissing, what little of it Daryl was forced to witness before the breakup, always consisted of quick, almost friendly pecks on the lips.
Michonne pulls away first, although Ezekiel keeps his hands on her hips. He steps forward, leans in, and whispers something in her ear, to which she responds with a low, sultry chuckle. Then she playfully slaps his ass, jerks her head toward the carolers, and, hand in hand, the couple walks to join the singing, leaving Daryl mystified.
[*]
"I think they's really together," Daryl says as he strips off his weapons and lays them on the big, metal teacher's desk in the classroom trailer they've been given to sleep in for the night. Hershey is sleeping over with R.C. at Michonne's.
"Who?" Carol asks as she puts the clean sheets Nabila gave her on the air mattress on the floor.
"Zeke 'n 'Chonne."
"Of course they're together. I told you they were."
"Yeah, but, mean…think they like each other."
Carol laughs. After snapping out a sleeping bag flat like a blanket on the mattress, she comes over and leans back against the desk as he takes off his belt. "Did you have a good time today?"
"Had a good time seein' you 'n Hershey have a good time."
She smiles. "The play wasn't so awful, was it?"
"Went on a bit long."
"Thank you for coming with us."
He folds his belt in half and lays it on the desk. "Mhmhm."
"Where do you suppose Henry is sleeping tonight?"
"Where do ya think?" he asks as he takes off his boots. He sheds his leather jacket and goes to tinker with the space heater they were left for the night. It's plugged into a rechargeable portable power pack. They do the same thing at the Hilltop for dwellings that don't have fireplaces. Soon enough, the coils glow orange.
"Jessica wasn't at the play. When I went looking for Henry, I found him hanging out with some of the knights. You think maybe he broke up with her?"
"Think it's damn difficult for a nineteen-year-old guy to turn down free blow jobs." He moves the space heater closer to the bed.
"He might if he has any interest in ever dating Cyndie." And if he took Carol's advice to heart. "Sometimes two in the bush are worth more than one in the hand."
Daryl looks at her with a furrowed brow.
"I mean, you held out for me, didn't you?" she asks with a smile. When Daryl doesn't reply, she repeats, "Didn't you?"
"Carol, ain't no one but you offered to blow me since the world collapsed."
"And if someone had? While I was with Tobin, or Ezekiel, if someone had, would you have just - "
"- No. But I ain't 19 neither. 'N I don't really like…company." By that she assumes he means women in his personal space. "'Cept you."
Carol closes the space between them, slides her arms around his waist, and kisses him. Drawing back, she says, "I just don't want Henry to end up trapped in an unsuitable relationship."
"Carol. 'S 19. Ain't no one ends up with the person they date when they's 19."
"I did. Well, the person I dated when I was twenty. And Henry's world is even smaller than mine was."
Daryl chews on his bottom lip. It slides out from between his teeth a little raw. "Nah, ya didn't. Didn't end up with Ed. Ended up with me."
She smiles bittersweetly. "It was a long, rough road to you. And not a road I'd want Henry walking."
"'S that Bible of yers say 'bout the easy road? It don't go nowhere good in the end."
She sighs. "Maybe you're right," she says as she takes off her boots and outer shirt. "He has to walk his own path. Make his own mistakes. At least he has the good sense not to get her pregnant. He told me he's not having sex with any woman until he's married. I just hope he doesn't marry her for the sex."
Daryl unbuttons the top two buttons of his long-sleeve flannel and then just yanks it over his head. His undershirt rides up slightly to reveal a hint of his taut abdomen. They both crawl in under the weight of the unzipped sleeping bag still wearing their pants. He leaves her the side of the mattress closest to the space heater. Carol settles her head on his chest.
"Do you think he will?" she asks.
"Ain't the end of the world if he does," Daryl mutters. "She's a dumb ass, but she ain't mean. She'll do his laundry, sweep his floors, fuck 'em most of the time he wants to be fucked. He'll take care of 'er, keep 'er fed 'n safe. He'll be bored, so he'll stay out late huntin' and find other people to talk to who ain't quite as dumb. Won't cheat on 'er, even if he kind of wants to. It'll be a'ight."
"I'd like to think he'd want more than that out of a marriage."
"Kind of marriage my granddaddy had. Smart as a whip, m' granddaddy. Could have really been somethin' if he hadn't grown up in them backwoods. Ran his own mechanic's shop in town. Chopped cars 'n never got caught. M' nana was dumb as a box of rocks, but they had the best marriage I ever saw growin' up."
"I guess neither of us saw a lot of good examples of marriage when we were growing up. I suppose that's the kind of marriage my parents had, except my father was the dumb one and my mother was the smart one, and she drank to get herself down to his level. One day she drove drunk…straight into a tree…and…well."
Daryl hugs her closes. "Didn't know that's how she died." He gently strokes the hair at the back of her neck. "Listen, Henry's a good kid. Little arrogant, but…kid knows right from wrong. Ain't afraid to work hard. 'S loyal to his friends. He's gonna be a'ight. Whoever he ends up with…he's gonna be a'ight."
Carol, with the warmth of the space heater burning against her back, closes her eyes and tries not to worry. "I guess it's a blessing," she murmurs, "that I have the luxury to worry about these kind of things now."
"Mhmhm," he agrees and kisses the top of her head.
"Ten minutes of cuddling before you pull away?" she asks.
"'Til ya fall asleep," he assures her.