Monday Nights at the Bluebird Chapter 1, a nashville fanfic

Monday Nights at the Bluebird

Chapter One

May 1993

5PM. Deacon frowned as he peered through the window of the Bluebird Café and spotted his least favorite waitress unstacking the chairs for the tables. Looked like Rayna was working for Leah-belle, dammit. Too late to call out.

Open mike nights were usually his favorite shift. Amy trusted him enough to let him run the night like it was his own, and he could usually count on them being laid back and fun, like his own personal jam session. Leah-belle usually handled the tables and enjoyed the ride. She told him her tips had doubled since he took over the night. He liked Leah-belle. He was comfortable with her. In fact he was so comfortable with her that he'd confided to her that he wasn't comfortable at all with Rayna. So he couldn't figure out why she'd sent Ms. Perfect to cover her shift.

He tucked up the collar of his denim jacket and tried to stroll in casually, but Rayna spotted him immediately.

"I thought you were supposed to be here at 4:30?" She raised one inquiring eyebrow at him. "I had to call up Mikey to open up for me." She frowned.

Deacon sighed. It seemed like Rayna had frowned at him everyday since she'd been hired. Normally women never frowned at him. Deacon had a way with women, even when he was so shy he could barely look at 'em. All he had to do was flash them his father's smile and they'd do all the talking that was needed. Jack Clayborne hadn't been able to give his middle boy much but handsome face and an ease with guitars but Deacon took those gifts and made the most of them. The face had helped a lot, got him a lot further than most 24 year-old guitar players in Nashville. Got him access to what he wanted to do, and if he'd had to court a lot of women to get through, well, it was no hardship. Women liked Deacon. Most women that is - except this one.

"I'm mean seriously, do you always roll up in here late?" Rayna made a face at him. She couldn't understand why he was allowed to screw around while the rest of them put in a hard day's work. At first she'd thought he was related to Amy, then she thought maybe he was a "special friend" but nope. He was just a bartender that everyone loved, and apparently a very good guitar player. She wouldn't know, she'd never seen him play and had only had a few shifts with him where he actually turned up. If anyone else on staff at the Bluebird had slacked like that, Amy would've probably fired them on the spot but no - she had a soft spot for Deacon.

The staff was all in on it, too. Every time she'd mentioned his absences or his lates, they all flipped over themselves make excuses for him. Deacon likes a drink, but he's a nice guy and is working so hard to support himself and sending money home too and what a great guitarist, so worth all the extra effort. Well, Rayna didn't care, irresponsible was irresponsible in her books.

"Why, Ray? You miss me?" Deacon tried his best smile, but all it did was earn him another scowl.

"I think you have enough women worrying about you, Deacon Clayborne." She gave him a dry look as she grabbed a bus rag from the bar.

He sighed. When she wasn't being so stern, Ms. Rayna James was actually a very pretty young girl. Beautiful strawberry blonde hair, creamy white skin dusted ever so lightly with pale golden freckles, sparkling blue eyes framed by a curtain of thick long lashes and pert cupid's bow of a mouth. But she always screwed that hair up into a tight ponytail braid at the back of her head, and her habitual expression was a frown that could freeze a man at thirty paces. Amy said that Rayna had become one of her most popular waitresses and he'd barely believed it –until he'd seen her smiling at the customers. She had a smile like sunshine – a smile that could light up a room with its warmth. She just iced up when he came around. Oh well – he sighed to himself – you win some you lose some.

"Mondays are a little different, Ray – Leah-belle usually opens and I get here when I can." Deacon had his construction job on Mondays, so they'd come up with the compromise. "Amy knows."

"Okay, none of my business – " Rayna shrugged and started wiping down the tables. As he admired the trim little ass in the designer jeans, Deacon once again wondered what she was doing here. He knew those jeans cost half of his rent – his sister had slavered over a pair in the mall last time she'd visited and they'd both felt punched in the gut by the price. Same with her shoes. While most of the other waitresses wore comfortable sneakers, or simple black flats, Ms. Rayna James was wearing an expensive pair of Frye cowboy boots, and they looked custom made. She had three she liked to wear – the black pair she was wearing tonight, the buckskin pair and a perfectly ridiculous and sexy red pair that came out on Saturday nights. Ms. Rayna (and he chuckled inwardly as he realized he never thought about her without the honorific) did not need to work at the Bluebird.

"Well, since you're here now" Rayna gave him a look that bordered on a smirk, "you might wanna start stocking the bar, instead of staring at my ass."

"Yes ma'am" he saluted. That was almost flirtatious. Okay, maybe she could loosen up a bit. "But it's a nice ass." She paused as she strode past him to grab the menus.

"I know," She grinned.

Later

He was really good at this, Rayna thought to herself as Deacon strode back up to the Mike to announce the next performer. He put on this whole "aw shucks, I'm just a po' country boy" act but it made the audience melt like butter. He stood in the spotlight, not seeking it, but clearly comfortable – unlike herself.

"You're a big chicken Rayna Wyatt," she chided, in her tough girl voice, but it didn't matter. She still felt a paralyzing fear at the thought of being up in the spotlight, on her own, sharing her songs. She'd never done it before, except with Momma before she left, and at school recitals. She'd never performed professionally, even on an amateur night like this and even after six months, the thought still made her want to lose her dinner. Which made it even more ridiculous that she was still there, waiting tables.

She'd been so fired up when she left home. Daddy had given her the final ultimatum, college or get out of my house – and she'd fled immediately. She'd worked out a plan. She moved in with her friend Kristy until she could afford her own place and she would haunt the Bluebird until they gave her a job.

Everybody knew about the Bluebird. The café was the place to go to break into Nashville. Initially designed as a regular restaurant, it had soon morphed into a temple of music where people went to listen and to discover the newest Johnny Cash or Emmylou. Kathy Matea had been discovered there, as had Garth Brooks and she knew…she absolutely knew that if she could get up there, and perform eventually someone would discover Rayna Wyatt, um...James.

She just had to believe in herself and not..get…distracted. She sighed as Deacon grinned at the two singers onstage and gave the woman a flirtatious wink.

She would just keep her distance. Like she already had been. It was just harder when he actually showed up for work and was all smiles and charm, and gorgeous body and sporting his own great ass. The girls had warned her from day one. Watch out for Deacon, they'd said – he'll steal your heart, break it and not even realize.

"He's just too sweet" Leah-belle had said as she was giving her the rundown for Monday night, "he's a real old school country gentleman, will pull out your chairs for you, open doors, give you his jacket – all those corny old things that we all pretend we don't love, but secretly we do" Leah-belle, who was happily married, gave her a knowing wink. "Be tough, honey."

Amy had been much more forthright. "He's a good-looking cuss and he knows it. He's been charming 'em since he was in diapers. Looks and charm, and that lost little boy thing – I even let him get away with more than he oughta. Then again, he's just so damn talented, he belongs here – and he knows it." Amy had just shrugged. "You have a boyfriend, don't you?"

Rayna had, until last week. Now she wasn't exactly sure what Bennet was. At first he'd been very supportive of her working at the Bluebird. "Great, Angel, you've gotta follow your dream" but that was before last week's big fight with Daddy.

They'd had their own huge fight after that.

"You can't afford to alienate your father, Rayna" Bennett sounded almost desperate. "Find a way to compromise." It was then that she'd started to suspect he was more interested in a relationship with her father than with her.

She sighed. Well, no she didn't want to alienate Daddy, but she would if she had to. This was where she belonged. She looked up at the stage and Deacon was smiling at the next act. It was a beautiful smile, warm and welcoming – a smile of kinship, of belonging. Musican speaking to musician. Suddenly Rayna wanted to be up there – wanted to be up there so badly she could taste it. She just had to work up the nerve to get a guitar player and get her songs out.

There was a commotion at the door and Rayna swung around to admonish them, only to be horrified at the sight of Tandy and her boyfriend, Coleman and Anita, and Daddy and Dalton coming through the door. She froze as they walked over to one of her large tables and sat down.

"Alright. Everybody settled in?" Deacon only allowed a slight frown to cross his face. Normally noisy customers were warned the moment they walked in – but Deacon was no idiot. He'd recognized Lamar Wyatt immediately. He wasn't gonna start a fight with the man who ran Nashville. "Rayna will be over to get your orders, folks and then we can start the show again."

Rayna bit her lip. Everyone being here was definitely not a good sign. She looked over at their faces and Tandy looked away, guilty. 'Traitor' Rayna thought to herself. Well, she wasn't Lamar Wyatt's daughter for nothing. She steeled herself and headed over to the table. Coleman and Anita were first up, both with sympathetic smiles. They made it easy. "Two bourbons" Coleman ordered smoothly, ignoring Anita's concerned stare.

"We'll have the same" Tandy's boyfriend countered. Tandy didn't look up as Rayna passed by.

"Chicken" Rayna muttered as passed her sister and headed over to Daddy.

He gave her a ferocious smile.

"Don't backtalk your sister, Rayna, I raised you better than that." Daddy boomed in his lord and master of the universe voice. Well, great, she thought sarcastically – now everyone knew who she was. Might as well accept it.

"Daddy, you need to keep your voice down when the music is on – " Rayna tried to hush him.

"Well, music isn't on right now, is it? Not at this precise minute."

"Daddy, there are rules – "

"Waitresses don't set rules for customers, Rayna Louise." Lamar smirked. "That's what you are here, right? A waitress? You left our beautiful home in Belle Meade to come out and live your dream…and here you are, living it! A waitress. Well, darlin' first rule of service – the customer is always right."

"Not here Daddy, here we do make the rules and I can throw you out if you don't follow 'em!" Rayna flushed as she realized all the patrons and the act onstage were looking at her and Lamar. He just smiled and addressed the room.

"Well, what do you folks think? My baby girl ran away from home to be a musician, or so she says – and here I find her – waiting tables, not singing, not playing. A concerned father ought to just pack her up and take her back home, right?" Lamar gave the room his best campaign manner. The audience muttered a little and Rayna glared as she started to hear a few affirmatives.

"I'm over eighteen, I'm far from being a baby and you can't drag me anywhere." Rayna fumed.

"Oh yeah? Bet no one stops me" her father gave her a genial grin that bordered on the maniacal. He knew he could do pretty much what he wanted here and most folks would let him alone. That was how things worked in Lamar Wyatt's world. She almost didn't notice when Deacon tapped her on the shoulder.

"Everything alright here?" His hazel eyes were dark with concern. This was so embarrassing, Rayna thought. Not only was Daddy here and making a scene, but he was doing it in front of Deacon, who didn't really think much of her, anyway.

"I'm sorry" she apologized, giving him a distressed look. He just gave her a gentle smile and shrugged. "It's alright Ray."

"Who's this, your supervisor?" Lamar cut in. He took a look at the young man with the broken shoes and the chain store clothes and dismissed him as insignificant. "Are you here to throw me out, Son?"

Lamar's voice was condescending and friendly at the same time. A neat trick, Deacon thought. That look probably cowed men in boardrooms across the nation, certainly men much more powerful than Deacon himself. Luckily he had nothing to lose, so he was uncowed, but he did respect the fact that it was Rayna's father he was speaking to.

"No sir, Mr. Wyatt, we're just waiting for you to settle in." He placated as he smiled around the table. Most of the folks took no notice except for the man called Coleman, who gave Deacon a conspiratorial wink. Lamar put on his pleasant voice.

"Look son, everybody in this cafe has already got their drinks and their food – looks like all that needs to be done is a little collecting. You can handle that, can't you? If we take Rayna home with us?" He ignored Rayna's sputtering protest and gave Deacon a smile that was so broad and blinding, he almost didn't notice the five one hundred dollar bills in his hand. "You can start with us. No change."

"That's kind, Sir, truly – but since this is Rayna's table – that's her money." Deacon's smile was tight and as false as Lamar's. That much cash could've easily paid his rent for the month and given him a nice sum to send back home, and he was sure the man in the hand-tailored suit knew it. If he was smart, he oughta take it. But he wasn't smart – he'd spotted that desperate look Rayna eyes, and he recognized it. She needed to be there – to be in the café and to play her music. This family of priviledge and power had been choking the life out of her. He recognized the feeling.

"No son, I'm sure she won't mind – since she's quitting. You go ahead." The smiling Demon that was Rayna's father tried again. He'd taken one look at his raggedy clothes and had figured, "well, hell – this will be easy." He didn't count on Deacon's s other gifts from his father - his temper and his pride.

"I'm NOT QUITTING!" Rayna declared furiously. Leave it to Lamar to come in here and do this, to ruin the evening and to try and ruin the café for her. He had no shame about coming in and waving his money around like a flag, like everyone in the room didn't already know who he was. She cast a embarrassed look over her shoulder, trying to will Deacon to see how sorry she was and she could tell by the hardness in his face that he was as angry and offended as she suspected he would be. For all his sins, there was a core of integrity in him that she had recognized and that Amy had probably recognized too. She gasped in surprise as he grabbed her hand.

"I'll tell you what, Sir" He remembered his honorific, because his momma had raised him right, and when you're speaking to an elder, whether they're poor and homeless or rich and powerful and incredibly rude – you give them their due. "Why don't you save that money until after her song, and then you decide if you wanna give her a tip. He grinned back at Lamar and clutched Rayna's hand tighter as it flinched in his.

He could see she was terrified. Well, she had to do it someday. Her father was right about that, at least. He pulled her over to the stage and grabbed the mike.

"We got a bit of an emergency situation here – we're gonna break the rules just this once. Anybody got a problem?" There were some more mutterings, and but all were positive and supportive. Deacon gave them all a grateful smile. "Can we borrow a guitar?"

One of the acts that had gone already passed their Gibson forward. Deacon could feel Rayna cowering behind him. That wouldn't do at all. He turned around and gently placed the guitar around her neck.

"Come on Ray," he whispered. "You can do it. Show him."

Rayna felt the weight of the guitar and was plunged into full-blown panic. Her mind went blank. She couldn't, there was no way – not with the guitar and never performed before a paying audience before – much less one of her own songs and…Deacon…she looked at him calmly adjusting the guitar…Deacon…he was a real musician and she was…

"Deacon I don't know if can do it" She whispered, her heart pounding, her entire body shaking.

"Sure you can, darlin'" He whispered with a grin. "You're Lamar Wyatt's daughter – You're tough as old boots. " He sighed as she reached out, again, a death grip on his hand. The small delicate hand felt icy cold in his. He warmed it for a minute, and then gently pulled free.

"You know Ray, your timing sucks. I'd love to hold hands with you later, baby"

"Deacon, I – I can't play and sing, " she pleaded quietly. "I'm really not good on the guitar." She was asking him to play for her. He could do it – easily. He'd backed up folks before with little to no prep time. He still didn't like her whole lot but he knew where she was coming from. Rayna was making a stand here for her creative life, and he understood that. He'd had to do something similar with his own family.

"Do you read music?" He asked gently. She nodded.

"Can you give me the chords?" He lifted the guitar off and put it on himself as she told him "E, A, G-Sharp, four-four timing".

"Okay. So I'm gonna play a couple of phrases, and then you join in when you're ready" He watched as she pulled herself together and nodded stiffly. Her hands were clasped in front of her and her whole body was tight. She looked as though she was going to an execution.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear "you get lost, you just look at me." She flinched, and nodded, her whole body loosening. He reached over and adjusted the mike for her. He gave her another little nudge. "and remember – this is fun. You like music – 'kay?" She gave him a small half-smile.

Slowly, and quietly – almost too quietly, she started, the mike barely catching it. Deacon had to strain to hear and then, when she realized he was following, he was backing her up, not leaving her out there on her own, her voice started to get stronger. And as it got stronger, it got sweeter, more plaintive, and suddenly he heard the song, heard her heart as she sang it out and he had to stop himself from responding directly.

**Well he jumps in the taxi, headed for the sky
He's off to slay some demon dragonflies
And he looks at me, that long last time, then he
Turns away again and I waved goodbye
In an envelope inside his coat
Is a chain I wore, around my throat
Along with a note I wrote
Said "I love you but, I don't…even know why"

Darlin' I wish you well...
On your way to the wishing well
Swinging off of those gates of hell
But I can tell how hard you're trying
I Just have this secret hope
Sometimes all we do is cope
Somewhere on the steepest slope
There'll be an endless rope and nobody's crying…

The song was sad, sweet and beautiful. It was a love song – he was expecting a love song from her – but this wasn't the love song of a 19-year old girl. This was a song about wistful love, a song about regret and pain, and it swept him along so much that he almost wanted to reach out and reassure her, and tell her that love was good and strong and it shouldn't make her feel lost.

Well a long night turns into a couple long years
And we walking around and around this trail of tears
Where the very loud voices of my own fears
Are ringin' and ringin' in my ear
It says that love is long gone
Every move I make is all wrong
Says you never gave a damn for me
For anything, for anyone

And nobody crying.

She could feel him there beside her, playing, following almost as if he been sitting in her bedroom with her and heard the song as she sang it quietly, her thoughts full of Momma and how her father had backed himself into a corner with no where to run. Momma had run instead, and she'd left a note with her wedding rings for Tandy and her wedding necklace for Rayna. She'd written a separate message for Lamar but he'd burned it instead of reading it. A couple of years later when they'd heard Momma was killed on the road, Lamar had smiled brightly, nodded and gone in his study to smash it to pieces.

And now Deacon was there, playing as though he knew that her soul was crying out through the song.

She looked up into his eyes, and she realized, he was feeling it too – he heard her cry and he was answering, there to back her. She wasn't alone in this and she could feel it in her voice too, getting stronger, getting truer and suddenly, she knew – she was where she was supposed to be.

May you dream you are dreaming, in a warm soft bed
And may the voices inside you that fill you with dread
Make the sound of thousands of angels instead
Tonight where you might be laying your head

Rayna's voice was rising gaining strength, and throbbing with love and with sadness and an aching joy, a joy that Deacon felt every day he got to play the music he wanted. It's a joy that most people didn't understand, a joy that he'd never thought someone like her would understand. But he could tell she felt it just as much as he did – that incredible ache of having something deep inside you, needing to share it with people and not knowing how, only to find your way through the unbearable beauty of music. Something inside him cracked, stretched out and reached forward. He wanted to tell her – I know – I understand. I'm with you.

I wish you well... on your way to the wishing well...
Swinging off of those gates of hell
But I can tell how hard you're trying
I still have this secret hope...

With a pang, he realized, she was winding down, the moment was slipping away – it was almost over, this moment of pure connection and he felt bereft.

Sometimes all we do is cope
Somewhere on the steepest slope
there'll be an endless rope
And nobody's crying, And nobody's crying.
Nobody's crying

And then it was over. Done. The crowd was on their feet whooping and stomping - and neither Rayna nor Deacon had noticed that sometime in the middle of the song, Rayna's family had run out, bailed on the proof that their prodigal daughter was where she was supposed to be.

They both took their bows and went back to their jobs, and it was almost as though the song had never happened. Later, when Deacon was behind the bar doing the till, Rayna started to wipe down the tables, and found the five hundred dollar bills jammed under her father's placemat.

"Hey Deacon?" she called out and waved the money. "I guess we earned our tip."

He laughed.

"Naw, Ray, that's your money, you take it. I think you're gonna need it if you're not going home. "

"Uh-uh" Rayna walked back over to the bar and dropped the money on top of it. "I wasn't up there by myself."

They bickered back and forth until Deacon decided on a five-way split between himself, Rayna, the busboy, Mikey the soundman and the dishwasher. They all celebrated with a shot of Old Grandad and then packed up. No one said a word about Rayna's debut or what they'd seen onstage when Deacon and Rayna got together.

It was almost as though it didn't happen, Rayna thought to herself as she headed for the door.

"Hey Ray?" Deacon called out, stopping her on her way.

"Yeah?"

"See you next Monday, right?" He gave her his charming smile.

"Uh-uh, Leah-belle's back from her vacation." She shrugged philosophically.

"Yeah, she's back and will be working. But – I'm gonna be seeing you next Monday, anyway – right?" He gave her a meaningful stare. Suddenly she realized what he meant and her stomach went tight.

"Um, I'm not sure – I uh – " She stuttered nervously.

"You'll be here, and if you have the gumption, you'll throw your name in the hat. If you don't, you can start gearing yourself up for it. You're singing on that stage again, Rayna Wyatt." His look was stern. She bit her lip, a little excited, a lot more terrified.

"Okay." Her smile was tentative and beautiful. Damn, it took a lot for him to earn that smile from her, he thought. "and it's James…I prefer to use my mother's name."

"Alright. Rayna James…sounds good to me. Well, get home Rayna James, and start preparing yourself, because your career is about to start."

END if Chapter 1

Authors notes:

I truly apologize for unbeta-ing, I know I suffer from innovative spelling and creative grammar, I did try to clean it up, but I just need to get it out there before the plot bunnies explode in my brain. BTW, I'm seeing four, extremely long-winded chapters in total. We might be getting a little sexy times as we go along (if you're okay with that, tho if you're not, I will warn) and I can also guarantee we will be getting incredibly schmoopy(if you're okay with that, tho if you're not you're probably not gonna wanna read this story.

**so, I know Patty Griffin is ages after this was supposed to have taken place but a) I like her voice and her songs, and b) I thought she would suit Connie's voice, so the part of young Rayna's music will be played by Patty Griffin.

I'm probably writing this just for myself. Oh well ;-)