-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
"Well, shit." Raylan slams his cell phone down on the desk. His outburst isn't that unusual so none of the other marshals even look up from their computers, but Dan Grant pauses on his way to the coffee.
"Watch it, Givens, that phone is government property." He leans one hip on the desk. "What's got you so worked up? Pencil break? Paperwork not going well?"
Paperwork is all he's allowed to do, under doctor's orders, until his appointment next week. Dan and the other marshals have been happy to oblige, sending all the scut work collecting on their desks his way.
Raylan sighs. "Nah, I'm just tryin' to get reservations at Majorca and the maitre d is a real asshole."
"Reservations for when?"
"Sometime in the next six months'd be nice." He leans back in the chair and stretches, feeling the tension in his arms and shoulders. He's only been back on the job for a day and a half and he's exhausted. And it's only paperwork. Maybe he's getting too old for this shit.
"Hey, I was sorry to hear about Art," Dan says, changing the subject. "Have you heard any thing new?"
He's not really surprised his boss knows something that's supposed to be hush-hush. Like all organizations, the Marshals' Service has its gossip train and most of the Chief Deputies are on board.
"Winona talked to Leslie the other day. They have an appointment this week at the memory center at UK, but all of the other tests came back clear – no brain tumor, no stroke."
"So it looks like Alzheimer's? Shit. That's a lousy deal."
"Yeah, it is." Raylan taps the pen on the desk. "Leslie told her they're staying positive. There are all kinds of new drugs and treatments coming along all the time, so maybe something will help, or at least stall it for awhile."
"I hope so. Art deserves to enjoy his retirement. He earned it, putting up with you."
"Yeah, I guess I gave him a few headaches."
"A few?" Dan chuckles. "Hey, why were you wanting reservations at Majorca anyway? You got a hot date?"
"Winona really wants to go there."
"Winona, huh?" He grins. "You two back on that horse?"
He gives a shrug and returns the grin. "She wants to date."
"I always thought marriage and babies and divorce came after dating...maybe that's what I've been doing wrong."
"Ha," Raylan says, opening a file and picking up his pen. "I guess I'll have to try someplace else. Hope she's not too disappointed."
"Give me a minute," Dan says. He heads for his office and closes the door. A few minutes later he returns, handing Raylan a slip of paper.
"The 19th ? That's next Saturday. That guy told me they were booked on weekends until October. How the hell did you do that?"
"Connections." His boss winks. "Miami is all about connections." He slaps a couple more folders on top of Raylan's stack. "Hope you get through all your paperwork by then."
"Asshole," Raylan mutters.
Dan just laughs.
-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
Winona presses the 'speaker' button on her phone and grabs a beer from Raylan's fridge. "So can you watch her or not?" She says, loud enough for her mother to hear. She watches out the window as Willa tugs the puppy along on a leash, heading for the grassy area where the condo residents walk their dogs.
"Well, of course I can watch her, but why are you being so secretive? Oh! Are you meeting with Richard? Do you think the two of you might work things out?"
She sits on a barstool and takes a sip of beer. It's good and cold. She swallows. "No, Mama, I'm not meeting with Richard and we aren't working things out." She sighs. "It's just a girl's night." The lie slips easily from her lips, but she realizes her mistake immediately. There's a long pause in the conversation, and she stretches up to eye Willa and Ranger. The puppy is rolling in the grass, tangling himself in his leash, the little girl bent over in laughter, watching him.
"If it's a girl's night, why can't she just stay with Raylan? I know he isn't back to work full-time."
Her mother sounds so damn smug.
"If you'd rather not spend time with Willa, I can find someone else. It's no big deal." She takes a huge gulp of beer, spilling some onto the front of her blouse. "Dammit."
"What? There's no need to swear." Mama tsks. "It will be nice to have Willa stay over. You never want her to stay over." Another pause. "Are you seeing someone new? It's a bit fast; don't you think? You and Richard aren't even divorced yet."
"I'm not seeing anyone new," Winona says, instantly regretting it. Why does she always end up playing right into her mother's hands?
"No." Mama's voice goes up at least an octave. "Winona Louise please tell me you are not going to do this again!"
"Mama..."
"You have Willa to think of! I know Raylan is a good father, don't misunderstand me, I'm very glad he's stepped up. I mean, after he couldn't even show up when she was born, I never thought he would. But you have given that man enough chances to change his ways and..."
"Mama..."
Her mother goes on, oblivious. "I don't want to see my granddaughter get hurt when you two implode again. And you know you will."
"We're different this time," Winona says, as much to herself as to Mama. "And we are thinking of Willa, I promise. We're taking it slow. We're just going out on a date."
"A date? Isn't it a little late for you two to be dating? Maybe if you'd dated before you ran off and got married six weeks after you met him all of this could have been avoided."
"But then we wouldn't have Willa." Her daughter runs in, followed by the puppy sliding all over on the kitchen tile. Winona quickly grabs the phone and pushes the speaker button to make her conversation private.
"Alright," her mother says, sighing. "Do you want me to pick her up, or are you dropping her off?"
"I'll drop her off," she says. "Thank you, Mama."
"You're welcome. Just don't make me regret this."
-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
"Is that what you're wearing for your big date with Winona tonight?" Dan looks Raylan up and down.
He glances down at the brown jacket, striped tie, and khaki pants. "What's wrong with it?"
"It's boring," his boss says.
Raylan grins. "That's what the hat is for," he says, fitting the Stetson on his head.
Dan glances at the enormous watch on his wrist. "You've got time. Come on."
Raylan follows him reluctantly. "Where're we goin'?"
"Beckett's." He pushes the button on the elevator.
"I'm not goin' to Beckett's. That place is too damn metrosexual for me."
Dan hoots out a laugh. "I didn't know you even knew the word metrosexual." The doors open and he steps in, grabbing Raylan by the elbow and pulling him along. "You know what women love? ZZ Top said it best...A sharp-dressed man. Trust me, Winona will love seeing you in a different light."
Raylan rolls his eyes, but stops resisting.
In the store, Dan waves the eager salesman away and Raylan stands, arms crossed over his chest, watching as his boss peruses the racks, pulling out several shirts, jackets, and ties. "What size pants do you wear? About a 34?" He grabs two pair of pants from another rack and leads the way to the dressing rooms in the back.
"This jacket is blue and this shirt is another blue. Blue on blue doesn't go together, do they?"
"Trust me," Dan says again.
Raylan exits the dressing room to find Dan holding two ties and several pairs of dark blue socks.
"Ya wanna pick out my underwear, too?"
This one," he says, ignoring Raylan and putting the tie up against the jacket. "It compliments the blues and pulls in the gray of the pants."
"How much is all this gonna cost," Raylan grumbles. "I still gotta pay for dinner, and Majorca ain't cheap."
Dan motions to the hovering salesman. "Can you set my friend here up with a discount?"
"Certainly, Chief Grant. Will Thirty-five percent be acceptable?"
"That should do it." Dan lays a hand on the man's shoulder. "Thanks, Leon."
Even after the discount, Raylan's new ensemble cost more than he'd spent on clothing in the last year. Still, glancing at his reflection in the shop window as they exited, he had to admit he looked – different. He ran a hand over his hair and put the hat back on and felt a bit more like himself.
"About the hat."
"I'm not givin' up my hat," He says firmly. "She likes my hat."
-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
Winona turns this way and that in front of the mirror. No. Not this one either. She tugs the red dress off over her head and tosses it into the growing pile on the bed. Standing in her bra and panties, she stares at the row of dresses hanging in the walk-in closet of the bedroom she once shared with Richard. Raylan will be here in less than an hour and she still has to get dressed and drop Willa off at her mother's, at least a twenty-minute round trip, and that's with no traffic. Maybe she should call Mama and have her pick Willa up.
She slides the hangers along the bar, rejecting one possibility after another. Just pick something. Raylan will probably wear that same old brown jacket he's had since Glynco. Glynco. Hmmm. Where is that black lace dress she bought for that cocktail party when the Vice President came in on a campaign stop? She's sure she didn't get rid of it. A dark blue hanging bag at the back of the closet catches her eye. Is that where she put it? Will it even fit?
Laying the bag on the bed she slowly draws down the zipper. The dress is there, still in its plastic dry-cleaning bag. She rips off the plastic and holds the dress up to herself in the mirror. It looks like it might still fit. She tugs it on over her head and sucks in her breath to zip it up along the side. It's a little tight in the boobs, but if she takes off her bra...yes! The dress hugs her waist and the skirt flares a little, showing off her slim, tan legs. She slips her feet into her best black pumps
Looking in the mirror, she runs her hands over the lace, smoothing it. They'd had a fight over the dress. It was expensive – too much for their tight budget at the time. Raylan thought it was impractical to spend that much on a dress she would only wear once. But when she put it on...well, it hadn't stayed on long. They had been a little late to the reception.
"Not bad," she says aloud to her reflection. She pulls her hair up with one hand and turns her head, then lets it down, frowning.
"Mama! You're so pretty!" Willa comes rushing into the bedroom, her backpack full of books and toys to take to her grandma's.
"Up or down?" Winona says, showing her possible hairstyles to her daughter. The little girl steps back, considering, her look so serious that Winona laughs.
"Up." Willa says.
"Okay." Winona gives her hair a twist and sticks in a few pins to hold it. "Pick me out some earrings."
Willa eagerly climbs up on the stool and opens the off-limits jewelry box. She lifts several pairs, holding them up and shaking her head, rejecting them. Winona watches. She sees so much of Raylan in Willa, but in this moment, she's aware of herself in her daughter. She swallows the lump in her throat. There's no time to redo her make-up.
"These." Willa holds up a pair of dangly silver earrings.
"Perfect," Winona says, snatching them and slipping the hooks into her ears. She swings her head and turns to her little girl. "Am I ready?"
"Yep," Willa says, hopping down off the stool. Winona watches her bounce out of the room.
"I hope you're right," she says to herself.