It was a cold December morning when young Jaycees mother took her final breath. Her emaciated hand held onto Jaycees in her last moments. It hadn't been a surprise to Jaycee or her mother that she died. Her momma had been sick for some time. While their situation was hopeful at first, it was short-lived. Cancer took her far before Jaycee was ready to live without her Mother. They worked so hard to prepare her for the moment where goodbye was the only thing left to say but nothing could have prepared her for the death rattle that shook her mother's body; and in turn, Jaycees entire life.
See, for the next few months, Jaycee would slowly clean out her mothers' room, going through her things to donate, throw away, and things she wanted to keep. It took months for her to come across the old pink hatbox in the far right-hand corner of her closet. Letters upon letters sealed in envelopes, addressed to one Raylan Givens, were hidden away. Jaycee spent the rest of that night sitting in the closet with a bottle of wine and the letters. She counted the letters one by one and come out with 26. All of them were dated for her birthday, November 15th, from the year she was born up until her last birthday.
She opened the first letter so carefully. It was dated for the year she was born and her mind wandered over what these would mean once she opened them. Who was Raylan and why was her mother writing him every year on Jaycees birthday? Better yet, why had she never sent them? The first letter contained a picture of Jaycee when she was born. Her eyes read the first line and then, once again, her entire world was shifted.
“Raylan, I would like you to meet your daughter.” Her mothers' impeccable handwriting could not lie to her now. No more lies about her father dying in the coal mines before she was born. The rest of the letters contained similar things, pictures of Jaycee, updates on her life over the years, and confessions of the secret she'd hidden so well.
It didn't take Jaycee long to find Raylan Givens. She knew of his daddy, had even had a conversation at work with his Aunt Helen. As fate would have it, Raylan had moved to Lexington to work in the Marshal office. She’d learned all of her information about him from Helen, that woman was an absolute saint. So she took the trip down to Lexington, checking in with security at the courthouse. Nerves sat heavy in the 24-year-olds chest as she was escorted by security to the Marshal's office with the box of letters in her hands.
Jaycee read the names printed on the placards that sat on each desk. Nelson Dunlop, Rachel Brooks, Raylan Givens, Tim Gutterson. She swallowed hard and made her way to his desk. “Excuse me, are you Raylan Givens?”
@marshalpride
