Winona slides open the door to the deck, looks out at the wide unbroken expanse of blue water and sky, and squeals. "Oh, my God it's gorgeous!"
"Can I go to the beach, Mama? Can I? Please?" Willa follows her out, hopping, first on one foot, then the other, on the hot floorboards.
"Lunch first," Gayle announces. "Then the beach." In the tiny galley kitchen, she sets the canvas grocery bags on the counter and starts unloading the food they bought at the market before they left Miami. It's mostly breakfast and lunch stuff, since they are planning on eating their dinners out at one of the many nearby restaurants.
"I'm not hungry," Willa says, following her mother back into the cottage. "I wanna go to the beach." Her lower lip juts out dangerously. "Pleeeeease?"
"By the time you get your suit on, lunch will be ready," Winona tells her daughter. Willa hesitates and Winona points a finger. "Go."
Willa stomps across the tile floor throwing one withering look over her shoulder as she heads back to the bedroom.
"Oh, my," Gayle chuckles. "You are in for it when that one is a teenager."
"That's what everyone tells me," Winona says.
They eat lunch on the deck in their bathing suits, listening to the waves. The seagulls swoop and chatter begging for crumbs.
Willa manages half a peanut-butter sandwich along with some grapes and baby carrots before she slides out of her chair and grabs Winona's hand. "Can we go now, Mama?"
"Yes, yes," Winona laughs. "Let's go."
They spend the rest of the afternoon on the beach, all three running in and out of the water, building a sandcastle, tossing the beach ball, and getting sand everywhere. As they head back to the cottage, Willa sets down her bucket and holds her arms up to be carried. Gayle obliges, and Winona scoops up the discarded toy.
"Tired, Punkin'?" Winona says, leaning in to kiss her daughter's forehead.
By the time they reach the steps to the deck, Willa is asleep.
"The sun wore her out. Let her sleep," Gayle says. "We can walk down to that little restaurant on the water for dinner when she wakes up." She lays her niece on the chaise and Winona adjusts the umbrella to give her some shade then flops down in one of the other chairs.
"Be right back." Gayle returns with an open bottle of wine and two glasses.
"Isn't it a little early?" Winona teases.
"We're on vacation," her sister responds. "And besides, it's 5 o'clock somewhere."
Winona leans back, turning her face to the sun. "I always liked that song."
"Ever since Kenny Chesney did it at that concert we went to."
"I do like Kenny Chesney," Winona says, grinning.
"You and men in cowboy hats," Gayle grins and pours them each a generous glass of wine. "So," she says. "What's going on?"
They talked a bit in the car on the way here, but with Willa all ears in the back seat, Winona had ducked most of her sister's questions.
"Richard gave me dissolution papers." Winona watches her sister's face. Not that long ago, when she'd shown up at Gayle's pregnant by one man while still married to another; she'd gotten a what-the-hell-were-you-thinking speech. Now, Gayle tilts her head and bites her lip, and it's a few minutes before she speaks.
"Do you know what I thought when you called me to tell me you and Richard got married?"
Winona shakes her head and waits.
Gayle swirls the wine in her glass. "I felt sorry for him."
"Why?"
"You guys dated for what? Eight months?"
"Six," Winona says.
That's stretching it, really. She'd met Richard when his construction company was doing the renovations at the courthouse. Friendly joking led to a Saturday lunch date. They hit it off right away. Their third date was interrupted by a phone call from the sitter. Willa had fallen and she needed stitches. Not only did Richard take Winona straight home, but when she couldn't reach Raylan, he insisted on driving them to the ER. He waited with them and did a great job keeping Willa calm and distracted while they stitched her up.
"He had no idea what he was getting into," Gayle says now. "Raylan is it for you." She shrugs. "You're never going to 'get over' him. Maybe – maybe - if you didn't have Willa, you'd have a chance, but seeing him all the time? No way. That's what this is about, right? Raylan?"
She takes a big gulp of wine and nods.
"Are you sleeping with him?"
"Not at the moment."
Gayle scoots closer. "But you were? You had an affair with Raylan and Richard found out?" Her eyes are wide. "Oh my God! Did he walk in on you?"
"No, nothing as dramatic as that." Winona tells her sister about Tomás and the confrontation with Richard the night of the boy's arrest. She pours more wine into her glass. "I'm a horrible person."
"No, you're not. But like I said, poor Richard." Gayle frowns. "He didn't stand a chance. Why did you and Raylan break up anyway? What happened after he came back to Miami? I thought you were happy and then all of a sudden, you weren't. You never really talked about it."
"I did," Winona says. "But you'd just had Ben and I didn't want to lay all of it on you all the time." She takes a deep breath and goes on.
"I thought I'd changed. I thought I could accept his job and his hours and all of it, just to have him back raising Willa with me. During all that time alone with her, I missed him so much! And we were happy together for a while. But then there were those damn federal cutbacks and the office was short-handed. Raylan was working all the time and Willa wasn't sleeping and she was more demanding during the day. I was exhausted. We started fighting about stupid things."
She sighs. "I think part of me was still resentful of him not being there for the first six months of her life."
"Why wouldn't you be?" Gayle snorts.
"Then right after Willa's second birthday, he went off to Italy chasing some guy who skipped out on testifying and he was gone for two weeks. Guess how many times he called to check on us?" She flushes in anger even now, remembering. "Twice. Twice in two weeks. We had a horrible fight when he got back." She shrugs. "That was it. Neither of us wanted Willa to grow up with her parents fighting all the time. So..."
She takes a long swallow, finishing her wine. "But now? Now we get along great. He hardly ever misses a day without talking to Willa. And he's never once cancelled a weekend or not shown up when he said he would. Not once." A sad smile curves her lips. "If I'd only been more patient."
"Patience has never been your strong suit." Gayle smiles, but her tone turns serious. "So, what are you going to do?"
"I've still got her to think of." Winona looks over at Willa; still sound asleep in her bathing suit. "We can't rush into anything. I don't want to make the same mistakes again. I can't put Willa through that, and Raylan wouldn't want to, either."
"What does Raylan want?" Gayle picks up the bottle and divides the last of the wine between the two of them.
Winona smirks. "What do you think?"
"You really think you have the willpower to say 'no' to him?" Gayle raises an eyebrow, skeptical.
"Well, we slept in the same bed the night before last and nothing happened."
"Well," Gayle laughs. "He is getting older."
"Ha. Very funny." She takes a sip of wine. "We've been talking more than we ever have. Really talking, about important things. I even told him how alone I felt when Willa was born. He regrets not being there."
"He told you that?"
Winona nods. "I think we cleared the air a bit. We probably have more to say to each other though, and I don't want to hop back into bed with him until I'm sure we can make it work this time."
"Sounds smart," Gayle says, but the way her lips are pressed together tells Winona she has her doubts. She doesn't blame her sister for that, not one bit.
-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
Raylan scans the courtroom as the next group of potential jurors is brought in. It's been a long morning of voir dire. Both sides are exercising their right to dismiss for cause and so far, only three jurors have been selected. Satisfied that nothing is amiss, he leans against the wall, prepared to listen to another twelve people try to weasel their way out of serving.
His phone vibrates in his pocket and he slips it out to glance at the text. It's a picture of Willa standing on the beach in her bathing suit, holding a starfish up by one tentacle. She's grinning at the camera. Winona's text says Don't worry. I made her throw it back. with a little winky face. He smiles at the picture for a moment before slipping the phone back in his pocket.
They've only been gone for twenty-four hours, but the condo felt strangely empty last night. He drank too much beer and fell asleep on the couch watching ESPN. It reminded him a little too much of the time right after their last split.
Richard's decision to file for dissolution and move to Philadelphia is almost too good to be true. Raylan doesn't trust this seemingly good fortune. Sure, he and Winona have been getting along great, even talking more, but they always start out that way. Then something happens or everyday life sets in, and it all blows up in their face. The only difference this time, is that Willa would be collateral damage. Neither of them wants that.
He pulls himself out of his reverie, listening to the twenty-something slacker in the jury box explaining that he can't possible serve because he doesn't have anyone to take care of his three dogs. The defense accepts him, so does the prosecution. The judge bangs his gavel and the jury is up to four.
The door to the courtroom opens and one of the defense team squeezes into a spot between Cabrizzio and the head attorney. Raylan watches the exchange with interest as she whispers something into her boss's ear and he in turn, bends his head to Cabrizzio's. The former cop gives a quick nod.
"Your honor," the attorney says when court resumes. "May I approach the bench?"
Judge Walker beckons and both attorneys step up. The judge takes the paper the defense attorney gives him, reads it, and passes it to the prosecutor. Words pass between the three men and the judge nods.
"Step back," he says. He bangs his gavel. "Court is adjourned until tomorrow."
A buzz passes through the courtroom and the reporters rush out the doors to be first on the air with the surprising end to the day's proceedings.
"Cabrizio's attorney wants a conference in chambers after lunch. I'm betting they're working out a deal," the judge says as Raylan escorts him back to the office. "This could all be over by tomorrow."
Joanna looks up as they come in.
"I need to get the hell out of here," the judge says. "Joanna, why don't you come to lunch with us? Judge Chapman and Linda are coming, too. Maybe we can slip across the street to Marcella's without any of those damn reporters seeing us."
Joanna glances at her phone. "I guess I could," she says. "Why not?" She grabs her purse from under the desk and follows them back out. "I'm going to text Ashley and see if she wants to join us." She taps the message into her phone as they walk.
At the elevators the judge steps back. "After you," he says, giving Raylan the slightest of smiles. Maybe he is getting with the program.
Two young men in dark suits step off, engaged in conversation. Raylan glances into the empty elevator and motions for Judge Walker and Joanna. Judge Chapman joins them one floor down. He's tall, and his full dark beard is flecked with gray. A dark purple button-down shirt stretches tight across a broad belly. His secretary, Linda, is an older woman with frosted blonde hair and a tight expressionless look to her face that screams botox.
Ashley squeezes in after them, casting a grateful glance at Joanna. "Thanks for inviting me." She flashes a shy smile at Raylan.
Stepping off the elevator on the ground floor, Raylan looks right then left, turning toward the back entrance to avoid the reporters hovering around the front of the courthouse. The hallway is clear except for a guard leading a handcuffed prisoner in the telltale yellow jumpsuit of the Dade County jail. The prisoner, a young Hispanic man, is resisting and talking in rapid Spanish. The guard tugs him along, ignoring his protests.
Raylan pauses to let them pass. A door opens farther down the hall and Denny Cabrizio appears, hands cuffed in front of him, followed by his lawyer and the court bailiff.
The bailiff takes Cabrizio by the shoulder and steers him around the other prisoner and toward Raylan's group. As the two pass, Raylan sees the guard pull something from his waistband.
"No!" Cabrizio yells holding his handcuffed wrists in front of his face. His lawyer crouches to the floor, covering his face with his hands.
"Get down!" Raylan acts on his first instinct. Ashley screams and he pushes Judge Walker to the floor, holding him down with one hand and drawing his weapon with the other. Then he sees the object leave the guard's hand.
"Grenade! Get down!" Raylan manages to drag Judge Walker into the elevator bay right before the blast knocks him off his feet.