The next morning at breakfast, the tight-knit group watched Amanda with open curiosity. After all, Daryl Dixon rarely spoke about his personal life or much of anything for that matter. He hadn't mentioned his family other than his brother who hadn't been seen since Atlanta and his mother who had died in a fire when he was young. So the fact that Daryl had a niece who showed up at the prison was quite the surprise under any circumstance. Finally, Carl spoke up, "You don't look like Merle."
"Thank God, huh." Daryl chuckled. "She looks like her momma but she's got the Dixons' eyes and Merle's crazy-ass hair."
"Is that why he shaved his head?" Carl asked innocently.
Rick hushed him while trying to hide his own smile as Amanda self-consciously tried to smooth down her wild dark curls. "Thanks a lot, kid. You know how to make a girl feel pretty." She smiled and winked at him.
"Sorry," he mumbled, eyes down.
"It's okay, Carl." Daryl laughed and tugged on a particularly bouncy curl. His niece tried to smack his hand away but he was too fast. "Merle used to call her his little mop head, among other names I ain't sayin' here."
"Are you from Atlanta?" asked Rick.
"No. New Orleans. I was here for a wedding." She said between bites of the tasty meal Carol had prepared. "Since I was a baby, I spent summers in Georgia with Daddy and Uncle Daryl." There were a few raised eyebrows around the table. "I know," Amanda chuckled. "Not the ideal situation for a little girl."
"Hey, you survived, didn't you?" Daryl grumbled, lightly shoving her shoulder with his. She shoved back
"I guess that's why Daryl is so good with Lil Ass-kicker," Beth added as she fed Judith.
"Lil Ass-kicker? Really?" Amanda shot her uncle an incredulous look. No one else here would give a baby girl such a horrible nickname.
He just shrugged. "Well, we had to call her somethin'. 'Sides, you don't wanna know what me and Merle called you and you had a name."
Carol shook her head and smiled. "I can only imagine."
"No. You can't." Daryl said, shaking his head. Everyone laughed.
"Do you know if your mom is...alive still?" the boy asked her.
Amanda shook her head and fought back silent tears. "Don't know, Carl. I called her when all this sh- I mean crap was happening in Atlanta. She told me to find Daryl and Daddy because if anyone could survive this mess it would be them. She said the Dixons were like cockroaches. You can't kill 'em."
Daryl snorted. "Guess that's true." He stood up and ruffled her hair causing it to stick out even more. Again, Amanda tried to smack his hand away but she still wasn't fast enough. "I'm gonna relieve Oscar. Join me later, Possum."
"Why does he call you Possum?" Carl asked.
Amanda laughed, "You'll have to get Daryl to tell that story. He tells it so much better than me."
"Aw, shit. I ain't got time for this. Oscar needs ..." Her uncle tried to slip out the door.
"It's not that long, Uncle Daryl." She grabbed his arm and tried to pull him back to the table.
"Pleeeease!" pleaded Carl, then Beth and Carol joined in. Hershel hid a smile behind his hand.
Rick interrupted their pleading. "Daryl, I'm sure Oscar can wait a few more minutes. Besides, I think Glenn and Maggie were headed that way."
"Thanks, man." Daryl shot his friend a dirty look. "You do know Glenn and Maggie ain't goin' be doin' much watchin', dontcha?"
He just smiled and said, "Just sit back down and relax for a moment. We never get to hear about your family, Dixon."
"There's a reason for that," he grumbled. "I owe you one, girl."
"Oooh...I'm sooo scared," she teased.
"If you knew what's good for you, you would be!" her grumpy uncle warned.
Rick laughed. "Okay! Kids, that's enough! Everyone be quiet and let Uncle Daryl tell his story."
Daryl shook his head and sat back down. "Watch your back, little girl," he mouthed to Amanda who rolled her eyes and bit her lip to keep from laughing at him.
"It was a Sunday, and me and Merle was watchin' a football game, and drinkin' some beer. Merle was half-passed out on the couch when that one," he jerked a thumb towards his niece, "if I 'member rightly, was about four. She came in carrying a bucket and hollerin', 'Daddy, Daddy, Uncle Daryl. Found me some kitties. They's mommy's dead. Can I keep 'em?' Merle just mumbled somethin'. Don't even think he was awake and she says 'Yay. Thanks, Daddy. Wanna see em?'" Daryl's shoulders started shaking with laughter as he remembered a happier time. "She was right up in his face tugging his eyelids open. 'Look, Daddy. Daddy?' she wailed. Merle, he just grunted again. Well, baby girl, there, pulled out a dead momma possum with babies still clinging to its back and dropped it right smack on Merle's face. Merle roared, and slung a beer bottle right through the TV screen. 'What the fu-! Get those goddamn effing things outta here.' Amanda was crying 'Please don't hurt my kitties, Daddy. Please!' Then she put her little fists on her hips and her bottom lip jutted out. She stomped her foot. 'You said I could keep 'em, Daddy!' Merle closed his eyes and I reckon he was countin' or or prayin' or somethin' cuz when he finally opened 'em, he just looked at her, smilin' this big-ass grin and said, 'Well, of course ya can keep 'em, Ladybug.' Then he turns to me and yells, 'Daryl! Take care of these mother f-ing damn poss-, er kittens.'"
"Did you keep them or you cook them?" Carl asked.
"Oh my God, Carl!" Beth laughed and then turned to the redneck and asked, "Well, what did you do with them, Uncle Daryl?
"Took 'em to the wildlife rescue center," he said quickly and escaped before anyone else could say a thing.
"Well," said Carol. "I don't suppose we'll hear from him for the rest of the day. He's used up his word quota for a week."
Amanda was wearing a fresh set of clothes generously donated by Beth. She was so happy to get out of the other ones that she'd been wearing a month. Beth also helped braid her shoulder-length curls into some semblance of order. At least it was out of her face, now. She almost felt human again.
She made her way to the guard tower where her uncle was on watch. A few walkers milled about the gate but nothing too threatening. She still couldn't believe she found him. She hugged his waist tightly and kissed his subbled cheek loudly. He patted her shoulder. "That's enough, girl," he said and pulled away.
Same ol' Daryl. "Do you really think Daddy's still alive?" she asked, half-afraid of hearing the answer.
"Ain't seen nothin' to make me think otherwise, Possum," he answered, staring down the road that led to the prison gate. "How'd you survive on your own?"
"Met up with some nice people, actually. A pretty good size group." Her eyes reflected the sad memories of the good people that didn't make it. "They kept getting killed off until it was just me. Then I found some more survivors. Kinda the same thing happened, again." She paused a moment then nudged her uncle with her shoulder. "Damn, I guess maybe I really am a Dixon."
He grunted and squeezed her shoulder.
"Daddy didn't think I was a Dixon."
He turned her to face him. "Why'd you say that?"
"I heard him tell Momma so. He called her a slut and told her that she just wanted someone to dump her little bastard off on so she could party."
Daryl shrugged and shook his head. "That was Merle jus' bein' Merle. He took one look at you and knew you were his. He just had trouble wrappin' his brain around the fact that somethin' so perfect was part of him. Hell, I did too. You were too good to be a Dixon. Shit, baby girl. You're the first Dixon to go to college. And graduate. Your Daddy was proud of you. Me, too."
"He never said anything to me," she commented sadly
Daryl sighed. "Ya know we ain't good with that stuff. Especially Merle." Amanda raised an eyebrow. "Okay! Neither of us is but that don't mean we ain't proud. For what it's worth, Possum, we was comin' to your graduation, your college one. Left a couple of days early, too. Merle wanted to check out the casinos in Biloxi. Your daddy, well, he had a little too much to drink, got in a bar fight with a couple of coon asses an' we was both throwed in jail."
Amanda leaned her head on his shoulder. Now she felt guilty. She never heard that story but she also never made an effort to keep in touch with her daddy. She never even used her daddy's last name. It wasn't on her birth certificate. "No, Daryl. I guess wasn't good enough to be a Dixon, yet."
Her uncle snorted in protest.
But," she continued, "I want to be one, now. It's got me this far. As of this day, Amanda Landry no longer exists. I'm now Amanda Dixon and proud of it."
One corner of his mouth turned up into that familiar smirk, "You're one crazy bitch. Gotta be a Dixon, for sure."