Chapter 10
Bella Bambina
The late afternoon sunlight seeped through the blinds, filling the hotel room with thin beams of light and shadow. Winona was asleep, curled up beside him, breathing softly, and Willa was napping in her crib, but Raylan was wide-awake. Slipping off the bed carefully and moving quietly so as not to wake either of his girls, he located and opened his box of clean laundry, picked off a clean t-shirt, a button down shirt, and a clean pair of jeans from the neatly folded stack of clothes, and changed in the bathroom. Back in his own clothes, he grabbed the hat off the nightstand along with the badge and gun he felt naked without. Hand on the doorknob, he glanced back at the sleeping beauties, then slipped out into the hall and headed for the hotel bar.
He sipped his bourbon as he watched the looping reel of sports news on ESPN.
Raylan's mind was restless. He couldn't nap, couldn't relax, couldn't concentrate on the television. Being exiled into time off, not as a punishment but due to budgetary constraints, seemed like a load of bullshit to him. In fact, in recessionary times, DOJ data clearly showed that criminal activity went up. He knew first hand it was up in Harlan County.
Here sits an under-employed LEO in a land of plenty of crime, Raylan thought of the irony of the situation to himself.
After a time, he glanced at his watch and signaled the bartender for another. His mind raced, thinking of avenues he might go if need be. It was wishful thinking the stubborn economy would rebound any time soon. He could always hire onto a private security detail for some extra work. Corporations were always hiring. Warehouse security was easy work to pick up if one was flexible as it entailed 24/7 shifts. And then, there was always car repos. Nasty work, but it was legal and it paid well, especially for high end cars.
His cell rang. It was Tim.
"I came back to the office to find you gone," Tim began. "Bet you couldn't get out of here fast enough, huh?"
Raylan sighed. "You told Art about Alison's little weed habit?" His tone conveyed that he was not pleased.
"What the hell, Raylan," Tim shot back. "You tell everyone who'll listen that your latest flavor smokes weed … in front of you, no less."
"She has a tough job. Sees a lot of bad, bad shit on her job," Raylan explained, tracing his finger around the rim of his glass. "With you havin' been in Afghanistan and seein' a lot of bad shit yourself, I'd think you'd cut her some slack on that one."
Tim was silent for a beat. "I made an off-handed comment to the boss, not knowing he didn't already know about it from you," Tim explained himself in more detail. "Like I said, you tell everyone."
"I'd like to see her stop that bad habit," Raylan also explained himself. "Guess that's my way of needlin' her about it, but … it don't work."
Another awkward silence.
"Are we good?" Tim asked.
It was as much of an apology as either man was going to give.
"Yeah," Raylan said, followed by a sip.
"So, Art told you I'm paired with Nelson?" Tim pried.
"Yep," Raylan answered. "Is that a step up for him, or a step down for you?" Raylan asked in a joking tone.
"Honestly? I think it's a big step down for the entire Marshal Service," Tim volunteered. "We might as well let the heathens have the keys to the Kingdom."
"No shit," Raylan agreed.
"At least you're preoccupied with Winona and Willa a little while longer," Tim offered.
"I'm sittin' here at the bar thinkin' about what then? After they leave," Raylan took another sip. "We're all gonna need some extra dough. You've been around long enough to know how this budget shit works. Soon, our days will be cut."
"We're thinking along those lines, too," Tim shared. "Nelson has an in with Rupp Arena in the security area. He's already placed a call in. He said he would rotate a shift with the rest of us, in appreciation for helping him out."
"How does he have an in with Rupp?" Raylan asked.
"It's through Deborah. Her dad is some executive over there."
Suddenly not feeling so bad for Nelson, Raylan said, "Well, good for Nelson."
Tim caught Raylan's acidic tone. "No, seriously. Nelson is a very prideful, self-made man. He doesn't like leaning on his father-in-law. But in a case like this, he'd present us all as a package deal. Takes the sting out of it for him."
"Oh, okay."
Raylan still didn't give a shit.
"Well, gotta go," Tim said. "I've got a date with Randi Friday night."
Ah, the real reason for this call, Raylan thought to himself.
"Really? Even after her and her randy sister gettin' the two of us in trouble?" Raylan smiled.
"Oh, man. She was worth it," Tim bragged.
"Good for you," Raylan said. "Just so Mandi understands I am no longer available."
Tim laughed. "These girls may be a little slow on the uptake, but I think they finally got that message loud and clear."
"Alright. You know where to find me for the next day or so," Raylan tried to wrap up their conversation.
"Alright, man. Later."
Raylan finished his drink and headed back up to the room. When he opened the door he saw Winona lying on the floor on her stomach, her bare feet in the air. Willa was on her stomach too, on the quilt, stretching toward her mother who was just out of reach. "Gah!" she yelled.
Winona laughed.
Willa grunted, pushing hard with her little arms, trying to raise herself up. "Ma-ma-ma-ma!"
"Com'ere, you," Winona said, scooping her up. She put her lips against the baby's bare tummy and made a smacking sound. "I could just eat you up!"
"Speaking of eating," Raylan said, smiling down at his two favorite ladies. "It's about time we get cleaned up and head for Giuseppe's."
Winona's face turned up. "Where've you been?"
"Down at the bar. You were sleepin', and I didn't want to wake you. Just needed to think."
"You're worried about the cutbacks, Art was talking about aren't you?"
"A little." He shrugged, amazed at how well she could read him, even now. "No use worryin' over somethin' you can't control." Willa held out her arms, and he lifted her over his head. She shrieked happily so he lowered her and lifted her again, making a pfft pfft airplane noise.
Winona smiled and watched for a moment as Raylan played with their little girl. This is how she always imagined he would be with their children. It was a joy to see. She pushed to her feet and rifled through the suitcase, pulling out a bright pink ruffled dress and matching leggings. "Come on little girl, let's dress you up for dinner."
Raylan 'flew' Willa over to her mama with her back well supported. At the handoff, his eyes met Winona's. In that instant, he caught a glimpse of her joy.
-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
It was a lovely evening in Lexington, and Giuseppe's was crowded when they arrived. Louis, the ancient maitre d', recognized them and smiled when he saw Willa in her carrier. "A new member of the family! Congratulations!" He beamed as he led them to their table in a quiet corner of the smaller dining room.
Louis flipped a high chair over, turning it into a stand for the baby carrier. "Thank you," Winona said, snapping the seat in until it clicked. She gave Willa the ever-present monkey and sat in the chair the maitre d' pulled out for her. Raylan accepted the menus, and Louis gave a slight bow and retreated back to his post.
Winona slipped off her coat and Raylan gave her an appreciative glance, taking in the way the familiar blue dress clung to her now more generous curves. "I've always liked that dress," he said, remembering the night she surprised him at the motel wearing it.
"Thanks." she smiled at him, happy to be back in her favorite dress.
Moments later a waiter approached, cradling a bottle of wine in one arm. "Good evening, is this the Givens' party?"
Raylan nodded. "Yes."
"I'm Phillip, and I'll be your waiter. A Mr. Mullins called and ordered this bottle of wine for you."
"That's nice of Art." Winona caught Raylan's eye over the candlelit table. "Guess this means you're out of the doghouse."
"Maybe," he agreed. "Thank you," he said to the waiter. The waiter expertly opened the bottle, poured a splash into the glass and swirled it around before giving it to Raylan to approve.
"I'm not much of a wine connoisseur," Raylan said, swallowing it in one gulp. "That'll do." He nodded at the waiter.
The waiter poured Winona's glass and then filled Raylan's. After reciting the night's specials he left them to decide.
"Here's to..." Raylan said, raising his glass and his eyebrow.
Winona's lips turned up into a smile. Her eyes slid to Willa, preoccupied with chewing the monkey's ear, and back to Raylan. "Figuring things out." She finished.
"To figurin' things out." He clinked his glass against hers.
The waiter came back, bearing a basket of bread. Before he could take their order, Angela, the owner's plump motherly wife appeared, toting an antipasto platter and a stick of biscotti. Shooing Phillip away, she took over. "Mister Marshal! So nice to see you again. We have missed you. And look at this bella bambina!" She ran a hand over Willa's head. "Six months?"
Winona nodded. "Just about."
"She's teething I'd bet."
"Yes, she is," Raylan confirmed.
"I can always tell." She held out the biscotti to Willa, who grabbed it, and stuck it in her mouth gazing adoringly up at the giver. Winona shot a panicked look at Raylan.
"It's okay for her to have?" Angela said.
Thinking it was a little late for her to be asking, Raylan shrugged a shoulder, deferring to Winona.
"No chocolate or nuts," Angela assured her. "Just plain with some anise. Both of my boys teethed on it, and my grandbabies, too. Look...she likes it."
Willa was happily gumming the hard biscuit, drooling all over the abandoned monkey.
"I guess it's alright," Winona said, relaxing a little. With all the directives in the child care books she'd read, sometimes she wondered how those of her and Raylan's generation had survived babyhood. A little biscotti wasn't going to hurt Willa. "But I think I may want to put a bib on her," she said upon seeing the sticky drool. She reached into Willa's diaper bag and pulled out a clean pink bib and separated the Velcro ends.
"Allow me," Angela said and gently placed the bib under Willa's chin, securing the ends on the other side of the baby's neck. "She is such a beautiful little girl," Angela gushed.
"Just like her mama," Raylan said, his gaze steady and warm. Winona flushed.
Angela beamed at them. "So happy! You let us cook for you," she insisted. "I know just what to bring you. You trust me?"
Winona nodded. "Of course."
"Good!" She smacked her hands together lightly. "Eat," she said, jabbing a finger at the antipasto platter. "And drink your wine." She winked at Winona. "You nurse her later and that little one will sleep well tonight. I'll be right back."
"Did she just suggest you get our daughter drunk?" Raylan joked as she walked away.
"Me having a glass or two of wine isn't going to get her drunk. And I can always give her some of the breast milk I left with you."
"Yep, there's a couple of bottles left in the fridge."
She took a sip of wine and smiled at him over the rim of her glass. "But it might be nice if she slept through the night."
Not sure how to respond, he took a long drink from his glass and reached into his pocket, pulling out his cell. "I'm just thankin' Art," he said as he texted away.
"Good idea, buttering up the boss."
Willa continued gnawing on the biscotti, watching her parents with wide blue eyes.
"She's happy," Winona said. "I think she likes us all being together."
Raylan watched the light play over Winona's face. "She's not the only one."
By the time Angela reappeared with a Caesar salad for them to split, they were both on their second glass and Raylan ordered another bottle.
After the new bottle had been opened and poured, he reached into his jacket pocket and slid a small flat box wrapped in silver paper across the table. "Happy Birthday."
Winona stared at him.
"Go ahead, open it." He grinned.
"My birthday isn't until next week," she said, grabbing up the package just as Willa reached for it.
"I know, but next week you'll be back in Miami, and ..." he shrugged.
Denied, Willa shouted "Ma-ma-ma-ma!" and banged a chubby hand on the table. Raylan quickly picked up the stuffed monkey and distracted his daughter.
Fingering the package, Winona laughed. "You never could wait. Remember our first Christmas?"
"What's wrong with openin' presents on Christmas Eve?"
"In the first place, it wasn't Christmas Eve, Raylan, it was three days before Christmas. You just couldn't wait to give it to me."
"Well, it was a great present and besides, I was low man in the office. I had to work the holiday, remember?"
"Yes, I remember." She held up a hand. "And it was a wonderful present." Her hand drifted to the initial necklace she still wore. "But, just to be clear, this little one will be opening her presents from Santa on Christmas morning. Not Christmas Eve."
"Yes, ma'am." He smiled indulgently. "Now, open your birthday gift."
She slid a finger under the tape holding the silver wrapping paper, unveiling a black box with JR stenciled on in silver. Her eyes widened. "Rosenberg's?"
He dipped his head and grinned, watching as she opened the box revealing the silver and sapphire drop earrings.
"Raylan! These are gorgeous."
"It's Willa's birthstone," he said.
"Oh, so it's a push-present."
"Huh?" He was genuinely puzzled. "No, it's a birthday present from Willa and me. They reminded me of your eyes."
"Ma-ma-ma-ma," Willa reached towards her mama.
The baby wanted that shiny, pretty whatever that shiny wrapping was.
Winona pulled the satin ribbon away from the wrapping paper, tied it in a tight bow, and handed it to her little one.
"Can she hurt herself with that?" Raylan asked.
"No because we're right here," she explained, happy that her daughter was now closely studying this strange new object. "I've learned that most of the time, she just wants to look at what she sees. She's very intelligent."
"Okay," Raylan said, not sure if he bought her explanation or not. However, Willa did seem to be content for the moment.
Enjoying the quiet, Winona began taking off her silver earrings and replaced them with the gorgeous sapphire drops.
"How do they look?" she asked as she closed the second lever back.
Raylan gave her a tight-lipped smile. "As pretty as I pictured."
Winona reached across the table and placed her hand over his.
"Thank you," she said. "It's been a long time since I've received a gift as beautiful as this one. Not that I'm jealous or anything like that but, for the past year, the only one who has been receiving any gifts or clothes and things is Miss Willa over here."
They both looked at the baby who was enthralled with the feel of the smooth satin ribbon that was now coated in biscotti goo.
"Yeah, but look how content she is with a simple piece of ribbon," Raylan remarked. "I figure at least for this first year or so, we're gonna get off easy for her birthday and Christmas. Give her the wrappin' paper, bows, and maybe an empty Quaker Oats box, and we're good to go."
They continued to watch their baby in awe.
Angela reappeared with a waiter carrying a tray with their meal on his shoulder. In the other hand, he held a stand which he flipped open and laid the tray on top.
Spying the remnants of wrapping paper and the box from Rosenberg's, a box that every woman of taste in Lexington knew well, Angela remarked, "Is tonight a very special occasion? You should tell us these things so we can prepare special music and desert." Her smile was sincere.
"Well, it's not really," Winona tried to downplay it all. "Next week is my birthday, and Raylan and the baby got me these." She placed her first two fingers behind the right earring and showed it to Angela.
"Oh, my. They are beautiful," she gushed. "Mr. Marshal, you have very, very good taste in both jewelry and women."
He dipped his head. "I like to think so."
"Please, no big fuss," Winona pleaded to Angela with her eyes. "It's been such a long time since we've had a quiet night out. That alone is celebration enough for me."
"I understand," Angela winked at her. "I have 8 children and 14 grandchildren. May I take this away?" she pointed to the pieces of silver paper on the table.
"Yes. Thank you," Winona said. Instinctively, she picked up the Rosenberg's box that now contained her much less expensive silver earrings and tucked it into her purse.
Angela grabbed the pieces of silver paper and moved their untouched salad dishes aside. She then served the main course family style. There was ravioli in a rich meat sauce, risotto with asparagus and mushrooms, and a plate of the crab-stuffed shrimp Art had raved about. Before she left them alone, she lit the candle in the middle of their table and topped off their wine glasses. "There," she said, pleased with herself. "Now, the magic can happen."
(To be continued . . .)