for Mark
Rachel hates it when Raylan is right.
It's even worse because Raylan is almost always right. But in this case, he was really, really right. He'd suggested as gently as possible (as he very well knows the best way to get Rachel to do something is to tell her she can't) that she wait for him to get home before going out for food. His reasoning was sound. Her balance is for shit with her big belly, these stupid Victorian clothes are heavy and the shoes are weird and slippery. Plus, you know, ice.
But, dammit, she doesn't want to stay in their weird, dark, cold house being pregnant and cold. She hates this Raylan hates this. They bitch and hate it together and what she needs is to find someone to bitch and hate with her. She twists her hair up onto the top of her head and puts the heavy, brocade coat over the high necked gown that she insists on wearing unbuttoned as far as it will go.
She only makes it about a half a mile before her feet go right out from under her, the weight of her belly pulling her forward. She manages to fling her hands out before her stomach hits the ground as as the wet slush soaks through her gloves and her dress, she remembers again how much she hates it when Raylan is right.
Dammit.
It's even worse because Raylan is almost always right. But in this case, he was really, really right. He'd suggested as gently as possible (as he very well knows the best way to get Rachel to do something is to tell her she can't) that she wait for him to get home before going out for food. His reasoning was sound. Her balance is for shit with her big belly, these stupid Victorian clothes are heavy and the shoes are weird and slippery. Plus, you know, ice.
But, dammit, she doesn't want to stay in their weird, dark, cold house being pregnant and cold. She hates this Raylan hates this. They bitch and hate it together and what she needs is to find someone to bitch and hate with her. She twists her hair up onto the top of her head and puts the heavy, brocade coat over the high necked gown that she insists on wearing unbuttoned as far as it will go.
She only makes it about a half a mile before her feet go right out from under her, the weight of her belly pulling her forward. She manages to fling her hands out before her stomach hits the ground as as the wet slush soaks through her gloves and her dress, she remembers again how much she hates it when Raylan is right.
Dammit.