Daryl wasn’t sure when it was he’d made the mental note that Beth loves tinned peaches, but he had, squirreling it away in the back of his mind with other important facts like don’t wipe your ass with poison oak. From that moment on he was on the lookout. His eyes subconsciously zoned in on tins and he checked every label, even detouring down the canned goods aisle when they were on a run for something else. Just in case.

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