"I am so sorry," Winona said, tenting Willa under the blanket in an attempt to muffle her screams.
"How old is she?" The flight attendant cast a sympathetic gaze on Winona. Her nametag read "Tami"
"Five months." She slipped her hand under the blanket, guiding Willa to her breast. Blessedly, the baby latched on and the screaming temporarily ceased.
"Don't feel bad." Tami consoled. "It happens all the time. Anyone on here who's had a baby doesn't think a thing of it." She turned back to her cart. "Can I get you anything?"
Winona glanced longingly at the tiny bottles on the cart. "Just water," she said. "And some pretzels, if you have them."
Tami filled a plastic cup with ice and set the bottle of water on the tray along with the smallest bag of pretzels Winona had ever seen. Wrapping her fingers around the cap Winona twisted it off and poured the water into the glass, resisting the urge to down it in one swallow. No one ever told her how nursing made you thirsty and hungry and tired and sore and cranky and - wait.
Carefully, she lifted the blanket. "Thank God," she murmured. Willa was for the moment, sleeping. Taking advantage of the rare respite, Winona adjusted her blouse and slipped the blanket off Willa's face, shifted her seat back, and closed her eyes.
The relief – and the nap - were short-lived. Willa was wide awake in time for the layover in Charlotte and managed to fill her diaper right after they boarded the connecting flight to Lexington. Winona mentally added changing a diaper on a screaming baby in a tiny airplane restroom to her list of things she'd rather never do again.
"You, my sweet darling, are so going to be an only child." She whispered as she settled them into their seat.
-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
She brushed the hair out of her eyes and bounced the baby again, heaving a sigh of relief when the light above the luggage belt began to flash with the flight number.
The familiar blue bag appeared and she pushed her way to the front, shifting Willa to her other hip so she could grab the handle when it came around. She reached for the bag, but it slipped from her grasp.
"Dammit," she muttered. She looked back toward the entrance. Raylan said he'd meet them if he could, but it looked like that hadn't worked out. Willa whimpered and squirmed and Winona felt her own thin veneer of control slipping. If the baby started crying again now, she might just sit down on the floor and cry along with her.
"I can help you with that," a caramel-skinned young man with a nose ring, his hair in neat dreadlocks; took a step around her and easily tugged her suitcase off the luggage carousel and loaded it onto a nearby cart.
"Thank you," Winona said.
He pointed to the child safety seat a little further up the belt. "Is that yours, too?"
"Yes. Thank you so much," she said, again. A memory rang in her head, something about the kindness of strangers. Evidently they were even kinder when you were holding a baby.
"No problem." He slung his bag over his shoulder and stooped to grab a guitar case from the carousel. "You take care."
"You, too." She turned; heading for the rental car kiosk, pulling the cart behind her with the car seat perched precariously on top.
Forty-five minutes later she pulled out of the airport with Willa screaming from the backseat. At the light, she tried Raylan's cell again. No answer. Pulling over, she shot him a quick text.
We're here.
-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
It was the same - a different room, a little bigger maybe, but the same. She shook her head at the man's predictability, thanked the maintenance guy who set up the crib, and closed the door behind him with a click.
Sunlight streamed through the windows, revealing the threadbare carpeting and faded bedspread. But the room was clean. No dust on the dresser, just some loose change and a receipt from Krispy Kreme. She slid open the top drawer. Two t-shirts, neatly folded, an equal number of boxers, and a pair of socks. Without looking she knew the other drawers were empty.
"Well, here we are Miss Willa," she said, bouncing the baby on her hip. "What do you think of Kentucky so far?" The baby stayed quiet, looking around with big eyes. Winona kissed the top of her head.
She paced for a while, the baby seeming to enjoy the movement, but Winona's whole body ached with tiredness, so she sank onto the bed, perching the baby on her lap and handing her a rattle that went immediately to her mouth.
The cell phone buzzed and she picked it up.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I am so sorry. I'm on my way. I'll be there in about forty-five minutes."
"It's okay, Raylan, we're fine."
"I was gonna pick ya up at the airport."
"I got a rental," she said. "It'll be better anyway."
"I am so sorry," he said again. "How was the flight?"
"Fine. Long."
"Ya got into the room okay?"
"Yes," she said. "I call it the 'baby factor'. He let me right in."
"I'm so sorry I wasn't there."
"I know. It's okay, Raylan. We'll see you in a little while."
She hung up and looked down at her daughter. "So, little girl, are you ready to meet your daddy?"
-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
Steam filled the tiny room as Willa continued to wail. Winona offered the breast, but the baby turned her head, miserable.
"Oh, baby girl, what do you need?" Winona murmured. "Mama has to get some sleep. Please, please settle down." She patted the baby's back, turning in small circles, the tile floor cool and damp under her bare feet.
"Mama doesn't know what you want." She whispered. "And can I tell you a secret? I don't know what your daddy wants, either. Evidently, I'm supposed to, but you're gonna find out he isn't the easiest person in the world to read."
Willa hiccupped a sob, but her head fell against Winona's shoulder, one chubby hand wrapping around the necklace.
Winona swayed back and forth. "And the other thing is," she went on. "He has good intentions, he does, but – just like pickin' us up at the airport – his follow through isn't always the best."
Tired beyond words, Winona sat on the toilet seat and rambled on. "But sweatheart, when he took you like that, when he stayed here with us instead of heading back down to Harlan? Well, your mama's heart stopped right there. God," she sighed. "I love that man."
Willa looked up at her. The baby's eyes still swam with tears, but the crying had lessened to a whimper.
"You want your daddy to come home and live with us?" She met her daughter's gaze and smiled. "Yeah. Me, too."
-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
"Yes, Mama," Winona said. "Of course I let him take her. He's her father." She sighed, holding the phone between her chin and shoulder and bunched the pillow behind her head.
"He took her so I could get some rest. She likes a car ride. They'll be fine." She smothered a yawn. "Look, I'm exhausted. Can I call you back? Okay, I'll let you know what the doctor says. Love you, too. Bye Mama."
Winona let the phone drop onto the bed, squirmed under the blanket, and instantly fell asleep.
The buzzing woke her and she groped for the phone without opening her eyes. "Hello?"
"Winona?"
Groggy, she rolled over, eyes still closed. "Art? Hi, sorry, but Raylan's not here."
"Oh, I know he's not. Just wanted to let you know he left little Willa's pacifier here at the office."
"That's okay. She has a million of them. You're back on the job?"
"Nah, but Leslie's sick of me mopin' around so I'm hanging around making myself a nuisance."
Winona yawned and immediately apologized. "Sorry," she murmured.
"Oh, I remember those days." Art chuckled. "That sure is a pretty little girl you've got."
"I think so, too. Thank you."
"Well, I'll let you go. Raylan left a bit ago, so he's probably almost back to you."
"You take care, Art."
"You, too." She glanced at the clock. She managed to get two straight hours of sleep. Not bad. In fact, probably the longest stretch she's had in awhile. She stretched, padded into the bathroom, took her hair down and stripped, leaving her travel clothes in a pile on the floor.
In the shower, she thoroughly enjoyed the luxury of not peeking through the curtain or listening for Willa every second. After, legs shaved, lotion applied – another miracle – she dressed, brushed her hair, and pulled it back again.
She heard the key in the lock. Stepping back, she gazed at her reflection in the mirror. "Here we go. Time to put up or shut up."
-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
"So. I guess this means I should tell Mama no?" Winona said. Holding the sheet tight to her chest, she leaned up on one elbow, gazing down at him.
His brow furrowed in confusion for a moment, then the familiar slow grin slid across his face. "Ya can tell Randy to piss up a rope."
She giggled and he pulled her down to him. "Shhh." He murmured into a kiss. "Don't wake the baby."
"Oh good God, no," she whispered back. "This is the longest she's slept in...like...ever."
"Maybe she likes it here."
Flopping onto her back, Winona looked around the sparse motel room. "When I said I didn't care where home was I didn't mean we could stay here."
"No," he chuckled. "We can't stay here. The cable sucks."
"Where then?" She rolled onto her side to face him. "Have you thought about it?"
He feigned looking at his watch. "Winona, it's been about half-an-hour since ya told me I had a choice," he said. One eyebrow went up. "And I been kinda busy with other things." His hand slid under the blanket, reminding her.
"Yes, you have." She slapped his hand away. "But she's not going to sleep forever."
"Tell ya what," he said. "Why don't we get dressed and I'll go get us some food. Ya used to like the chicken fried steak from the place up the road, right? They do carry out."
"That sounds really good." She watched as he slid out of bed, gathering his scattered clothing and dressing quickly.
"I do love you, Cowboy."
"I know that." He bent to kiss her. "I love you, too."
She bit her lip. "Can we do this?"
"I don't know." He glanced at the crib, then shot her that grin again. "But we're sure as hell gonna try."