A/N: Well, hey there again y'all, I know crazy...here I am uploading another piece. This makes what number 3 within the past month. Insane. Anyways, the promo last week for 3x15 just killed me. And I knew it was coming, I read the spoilers and all that but it still thoroughly gutted and not to mention inspired me. So this is my take on how the episode will go down...it is going to be a two parter just so you are forewarned. The song used in this piece I've loved since I heard it almost a month ago and this quite frankly it is the most perfect song for our tortured Deyna. Wah. I have been ugly crying over this song since forever and am SOOO SOO happy I was able to incorporate it into this piece. The lyrics and arrangement do not own to me and neither to these characters because if they did, well...Deacon wouldn't have cancer and Rayna wouldn't have choose Luke initially in the first place.
And of course I must thank my boo, my sounding board Anlgsp. Yes, I already know you're going to say you didn't do anything...but you did, you kept persisting that I write this out, papers and presentations be damned. Haha I figured I'd give you this for now, you'll hopefully get the next part sooner rather than later. Love you
Any similarities between this story and any other Deyna story out there are completely unintended and all praise belongs to those writers.
# # # #
The call had come several weeks ago, it had gone through Bucky, as so many of those calls do but now the day was drawing closer with each passing day. At dinner tonight I formally asked the girls if they would like to sing with me at the Opry for my ten year anniversary show. Through a mouthful of cookies Daphne eagerly agreed her head bobbing up and down at an alarming rate. After advising her to calm down and swallow her cookies before she attempts to talk; Maddie agrees in a flabbergasted tone eyes wide in surprise, and then she repeatedly demanded to know if I was joking or not. Once I inform them both that I was completely serious about my proposition they rounded the island in the kitchen wrapping their arms around me and caging me in between the both of them as the squeezed me tightly before they each burst into excited chatter. I fielded questions and jotted down their song suggestions for the last hour and after they scampered off to bed I strode through the quiet hallways until I reached the my music room. Inhaling deeply, I set my iPhone on the coffee table there and my mind drifts away from the girls, as I come to realize there is one more person I want there, I need there.
It's our home it's where my career was inevitably born. Sure, there are memories with him there that I'd rather forget, but at the same time there are one's that can never be replaced. "There'd be no Rayna Jaymes without Deacon Claybourne." That statement still rings true, and in this moment, as I stare at my framed Opry induction photo, I accept that it always will be true. He's apart of me, the best parts and sure we have our baggage, but who doesn't? As much as I have tried to keep my distance I need him next to me when I step on that stage for the anniversary of my induction to the Grand Ole Opry, the most sacred place in country music. It simply just wouldn't be right without him. Swiping my phone off the coffee table my fingers do a dance across the lock screen until I'm greeted with the homescreen of my iPhone, Maddie and Daphne's smiling faces reflect back at me underneath an array of apps. Tapping on the message icon my finger scrolls through the conversations still archived there and hoovers over Deacon's name. My teeth scrape against my lower lip, and I shake my head thinking better of it, and double tapping the call button. As the dial tone echo's back at me my nerves suddenly go haywire.
"Hey Ray," Deacon answers, the sound of my name on his lips unconsciously tugs the corners of my lips into a smile.
"Hey Deac," is all my dry mouth manages to formulate.
"Is everything a'right?"
"Yeah, yeah...everything's great I was just-uh I was wondering if we could meet somewhere, there's just, there's something I want to discuss with you." I ask my voice drenched in hopefulness I know this is the right decision I have to ask him in person.
"Of course, got a place in mind?"
"The Shelby Street bridge, our spot, say about fifteen minutes?"
"Sounds good I'll be there."
"A'right great, thanks! I'll see ya."
"See ya." Deacon responds, and I can hear the smile in his voice. .
# #
Weaving my SUV through the familiar downtown scene the neon lights of Broadway twinkle back at me and I smile fondly when I pass by Tootsies. That had been our go to place to hang out back in the day when we had been cutting our teeth. Through clouds of smoke, shots of cheap whiskey, and drunken slurs we sang our hearts out to anyone who would listen to. Pressing down on the brake pedal my SUV comes to a stop, using my pointer finger I flick on the blinker. Once the light transitions to green my foot eases off the brake, and I maneuver the vehicle back into the flow of traffic before cranking the wheel and turning into a mostly empty lot. Pulling between a set of faded yellow lines I switch gears placing the car into park. I don't see Deacon's truck, but that's not too surprising since there is a wide variety of places he could've parked. Reaching into the middle console I retrieve my iPhone from the cup holder, pocketing my keys I throw open the door and step out into the brisk Nashville night.
The heels of my scuffed cowboy boots faintly click against the pavement as I make my way towards the bridge. Upon reaching the bridge my eyes take in the lights that are lining the bridge and reflecting off the water it's stretched across. Before I can take another step Deacon's voice stops me, rooting me in place.
"Hey darlin' sorry I'm late.." Deacon says as he jogs slightly to catch up to me, and I smile at him shaking my head waving a hand to disregard his lateness.
"Oh, don't worry I wasn't waiting too long...I just got here."
"Good," he responds as he tucks his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and tosses me his famous half grin. "So, what did you wanna discuss?"
"Well, the anniversary of my induction to the Grand Ole Opry is this coming Friday night."
"That's right, I can't believe it's already been ten years." He muses his eyes sparkling slightly in the dim street lights.
"I know, it feels like it was just yesterday…"
"Welcome to the family Ms. Rayna Jaymes. We are beyond happy to have you as a sister and please come here as often as you can, and as often as you'd like because this is your home now." Vince Gill welcomes me, Jimmy Dickens handing me the statue, and my sweaty hands grip it tightly. This entire moment feels as if it's a dream. All the heartbreak I've endured with Deacon makes this one single moment all worth it. Inevitably all that heartache led me right here, paved the way to this irreplaceable career defining moment. "Thank you" I gush as my eyes drink in the wooden platform that the replica of the WSM Grand Ole Opry Mic Stand rests on. My favorite necklace of my mother's dangles from my neck and I step forward carefully hugging Jimmy Dickens and then Vince Gill; I swivel around offering Deacon a wide smile holding up the statue between us. He has earned this membership as much as I have, and there's no one else more deserving, his arms envelop me, and I briefly forget that my husband is holding my five year old daugher in his arms in the right wings of the stage. The daughter who is the spitting image of her father, the man whose arms are snugly twisted around me, slowly detaching myself from him we share a smile, eyes bright, we've made it. He's clean, sober, he's alive. We're here to stay.
Turning back toward the audience I lift my cordless microphone and blink desperately willing the tears that are welling up there not to fall. "Thank you, so much for this y'all, really...it means the world. I am never going to take this for granted and I will play here as much as they will allow me to, that I can promise you. I am so ecstatic to be apart of this family it means….this is everything, I'll never forget this. Thank you, thank you, thank you." I exhale, my eyes flickering closed, and I can feel several tears leak out from the corners. The feel of his arms circled around me scorched through my clothes and is still burning my skin. "A'right, a'right...before I get to weepy how 'bout we sing a new one we just wrote for y'all?" Nodding my head to Deacon, he takes his cue and his skilled fingers slide against the steel strings before he plucks out the intro.
A car horn blares through the commotion of downtown Nashville grounding me back to earth, "and then again it also feels like a lifetime ago." I agree my own eyes clouding over briefly as memories that would always be inbedded in my consciousness. "As I was saying, um...I have a proposition for you..." I pause and our eyes meet, his eyebrow is quirked upward and I know I have peaked his interest. "Sing with me Friday at the Opry, I don't wanna do it without you..you've been there since the beginning it'd only be right." As a stronger gust of wind ripples through the air it causes me to tug my jacket closer to myself, as if that will help to keep the chill from assaulting my skin while we walk aimlessly down the bridge. For the first time, I realize we've nearly reached our spot.
"Of course, I'd be honored.." Without a moments hesitation Deacon answers his voice pausing before he continues. "You should know by now that I could never turn you down."
Walking out to the overhanging with Deacon at my side I tip my head and flash him my million dollar smile. Its the one he has always said he fell in love with the first time I ever cast it his way. Nodding my head knowingly to his statement I step forward, palms curving over the railing as I gaze out over the water. "I asked the girls to sing too."
"I'm sure they were over the moon." Deacon says as he hunches over the railing alongside of me his forearms resting against the metal.
"Yeah, they really were. Daphne couldn't even finish her mouthful of cookies before answering and Maddie repeated the phrase, oh my god, too many times to count and then she just continuously asked if I was kidding."
Chuckling softly Deacon nods his head before he turns slightly so that his body is now facing mine."Thought it was too good to be true."
"Something like that, I guess." Uncurling my fingers I release the railing and turn so that we're now face to face. "I was thinking, we could sing that song that we debuted at the opry when I got inducted." Holding my breath I wait for his reply, the song in question is one that means even more now after all this time. The lyrics forever apart of how relationship has twisted and turned, hitting unbelievable highs before crashing to lows that were almost impossible to recover from. However, here we are, proof that we can withstand an addiction-which nearly broke us, a fourteen year marriage to another man, a hidden love child, and a terrible car accident we came out on the other side stronger but not without battle scars.
"That's a good choice."
# # # #
The day had come, and it was mind boggling to me that ten years ago I had stood on that same polished wood and officially became a member of the Grand Ole Opry. Walking through the halls I smile to the people who are milling around desperately trying to make my way to the cheap seats. Inhaling the distinct scent of the Grand Ole Opry, I take measured strides up the stairs placing myself in one of the top tiers of pews. Lowering myself to the cushioned pew I sit in the rafters, the cheap seats as everyone calls them, and I can't help but smile fondly. "I thought I might be able to find you up here" rings from the row behind me and I don't have to turn to see who it is.
"Yeah, it is somewhat of a tradition."
"It sure is," Deacon agrees as he makes his way down the row and joins me, lowering himself to open space next to me, his arm unconsciously brushes mine in the process and it's like a jolt, an electric shock to the system. "Do you remember when this tradition all began?"
"Of course, it was the first time I ever played for the Grand Ole Opry, it was so surreal thinking that I had been afforded the privilege to stand in the circle where so many greats had once stood before me."
"Yeah, it was really surreal, and now look at you, you're considered one of the greats, someone the next generation will be in awe of."
"You make me sound old," I say in a dry tone tossing him a grin before nudging him, "you're older than me just remember that."
Deacon chuckles and I watch him nod his head in agreement, "don't I know it." The faint sound of murmuring voices floats up to my ears and masks the lull of silence that we've fallen into. "I can't believe its been what twenty-one...twenty-two years since that first time we played here?"
"Twenty-two." My tongue reminds him keeping my eyes trained on the stage below as a smile forms on my lips at the memory of that fateful day.
"There you are" Deacon's voice interrupts my train of thought and I look up.
"Yeah, I just needed a moment...and I wanted to see what the stage looked like from up here."
"It looks pretty small huh?" He comments while slumping into the open spot next to me.
"Yeah, it does, but people still pay money for these seats ya know?"
"They do, cause it's about being here and hearing the music."
Silence stretches across the pews and shadows cast over them as we both get caught up in our own thoughts. "Deacon, promise me that no matter how famous we may get that we'll always remember to play for the people in these seats too, that we'll remember where it all began."
Our eyes connect and I drown in his navy depths as he reaches forward and collects my hands in his. "I promise."
"Thank you." Filters out between my teeth as I grip onto his hands and lean into him pressing my lips against his once I'm within reach.
"O' course darlin' anything for you."
"How much time do we got?" I ask curiously watching as Deacon grabs the watch on his right wrist twisting it around so that he could read the hands on the clock.
"At least a few hours, why?"
"Do you think we could possibly write up here…" Deacon's eyes grow large, in what I've come to learn, is a clear sign of his spiked curiosity. "I just- I got an idea and I kinda wanna run with it."
"Oh, okay, yeah I don't see why not; I'll just go grab my journal and my Gibson."
"A'right babe," Nodding my head to his statement I toss a curl over my shoulder and fold my legs like a pretzel on the pew.
"I'll be right back," promises Deacon as he leans down and brushes his chapped lips against mine briefly before he wanders down the aisle that is separating the multi-tier cushioned pews. My eyes follow him as he leaves and I internally thank God, for blessing me with this man.
"I was so in love you." He muses, shattering my trip down memory lane, "I guess not much has changed, huh?"
To his words my heart leaps into my throat and I feel the heat flare between us as our eyes find one another's. "Yeah, I guess…do you 'member what I made you promise me up here?"
"Of course, and we kept that promise...that night we played our hearts out and made sure to give everyone in the audience a good show, and we stayed true to ourselves and have continued to do that since that day."
"We have."
"And it was in these very seats where we wrote one of your biggest hits." Deacon reminds me, and I wonder, for a split second, if he had been recollecting the exact same memory that I had been just moments ago. Were we so intricately woven that we had all the same thoughts, and recollected all the same memories at the exact same time?
"Yup...God, I can't believe we wrote, That Could Be Us...right here."
"Uh-ah. That was a big one for you."
"For us." The longing to reach out and take his hand, offering us both contact that we desperately want is insanely hard to ignore. However, we both forego the act of touching skin against skin, and instead sit side by side not touching, as if we don't know every freckle, scar and birthmark covering the other's pale flesh. "Thank you." Genuinely spills from my lips my voice softer than before.
"For what?"
"For doing this...for being here...for playin' with me, it means everything." Rattles out of my mouth, my voice stressing the last word.
# #
Staring at my reflection in the mirror the bright light bulbs surrounding it remind me how much has changed. The wrinkles that decorate my face are signals of a life well lived, and that pain I have survived. Gliding the blush colored wax across my lips, I hold the black lipstick tube between my thumb and forefinger laughing, I've come a long way. No longer am I smearing cheap lipstick onto my lips instead I'm wearing some expensive name brand. The girls had disappeared after the glam squad finished with their hair and makeup. Standing in my dressing room my eyes take in the photos decorating the walls and it dawns on me suddenly that it was in this exact room that Deacon and I had warmed up in before my first ever performance at the Opry.
The last note resonates in my dressing room as Deacon sits perched on the couch his battered Gibson cradled in his arms while his eyes attentively follow me. "Let's take it from the top again, I was off key during the bridge in that run through." My voice pleads as my eyes dart about the room until settling in place with his.
"No you weren't Ray," he counters reaching for his glass and throwing back, at least, a double shot's worth of whiskey.
"I was," I say defending myself for my neurotic behavior.
"No, you weren't."
"Okay fine, I wasn't. I just- I...can we run through it again, please?"
"Sure, but Rayna it's not gonna get any better cause you already have it down pat. Why are you being so -like this?" Deacon questions his voice reeking of curiosity as he gestures toward my entire body as I pace around the dressing room.
"I just-what if they don't like me? I mean this is the mother church of Country Music this place as the ability to either make or break someone's career."
Quirking his head to the side Deacon gently laid his guitar down and made his way over to me. His arms circled around my waist ceasing my agitated movements. "Ray, babe..they invited you here I think it's safe to say they like you...that they believe in what you have to say."
"I guess you're right." I say softly my hand curving over the top of his hands that are clasped together and resting against my midsection.
"O' course I am." Deacon replies planting a tender kiss to my cheek before his lips wander to the curve of my neck tracing it with light kisses.
I can smell the whiskey on his breath and I giggle gently at the feel of his lips against my soft skin. Lightly I jab my elbow into his ribs, "babe, you're gonna have to cool it." As welcomed as the distraction of his wandering lips is, I don't want us to start something we won't have time to finish. His arms slowly lift off of my body in mock defeat but as our eyes connect in the mirror I know that this is far from over. He turns around making his way back to the couch and once he reaches it he lifts his leg. Fluffing my hair I watch him in the mirror as he shoves up his jeans and pulls a flask out from the side of his scuffed cowboy boot. "I can't believe you smuggled that in here." Rolls off my tongue in an incredulous tone as I swivel away from the mirror to face him.
"Well, it wasn't all that hard babe." Deacon uncaps the flask and brings it to his lips before tipping it back and gulping down some liquid fire.
To that response I scuff, rolling my eyes at him as I spin on the balls of feet back to face the mirror.
"Wanna pull babe? It'll calm your nerves."
"No, I really shouldn't."
"One little shot won't hurt." He informs me as he swaggers toward me, and I have to admit the offer is quite enticing. I'm a nervous wreck, and he knows it as well as I do. One shot couldn't hurt, it wouldn't even give me a slight buzz, if anything, it would just warm my belly and calm my nerves. Deacon closes the gap to only several inches, his flask wedged between our bodies and keeping them from making contact. Having him this close to me is agonizing I can feel the heat of his body and it is warming my own, and the crazy thing is he's not even touching me. Eyeing the stainless steel flask between our bodies with interest I tentatively reach out, fingers wrapping around the cool metal, as I take the flask in my palm and lift it up I unload a double shots worth of whiskey into my empty stomach.
"I love you, you know that?"
"Yeah, I do." A smile takes over my face as I hand him back his flask and lean up on my tip toes my lips covering is. "And I love you." Is my response to his words which causes him to grin widely, his hand gripping onto my hip as he brushes another kiss to my lips.
"Forever," he whispers against my lips and before I can respond a knock cracks against the wooden planes of the dressing room door breaking up our moment and inevitably bringing us back down to reality.
"Come in." My voice encourages as Deacon lets go of me and moves back to the couch capping his flask up and sliding it back into his boot all before the door creaks up.
"Five minutes Ms. Jaymes."
"Thank you."
The young man nods before gently closing the door behind himself and leaving us alone once again. My eyes skirt over to Deacon who is smoothing out his button down trying to rid it of the several wrinkles that had formed there when we were warming up. He looks incredibly handsome, and, momentarily, I wonder how I ever got so lucky to have a man like him fall in love me. As he leans down and collects his Gibson I can see his muscles bulge against his button down and it causes me to lick my lips. "Ready?" Deacon questions as he slides the strap of his guitar over his body and tosses me his signature crooked smile. Extending his hand in my direction he waits for me and I briefly wonder how he is being so extremely cool about this whole thing, about the fact that our lives could potentially change forever after we go on to that stage and he seems to be completely unfazed.
"As ready as I'll ever be." I say with a shrug as I walk up next to him taking his proffered hand and walking out of the dressing room. We walk in sync down the hall, the faces of legions hanging in frames along the walls, smiling down at us as we pass.
"Come on Mom, it's almost time!" Daphne, my youngest informs me not waiting for a reply as she twirls away from the entry of the door and skips down the hall. I can hear her high fiving someone as she passes and the infectious laughter that she passes along to everyone she encounters. Taking a look at my reflection one last time in the mirror I cap my lipstick tube and toss it into my open purse. However, my hand dives inside the leather bag retrieving a bracelet that has seen better days, the scratches against the engraved silver plate a sign of our journey. Linking the bracelet onto my left wrist I twist it around until the forever is staring back at me knowingly. Powering down my iPhone I drop it carelessly into my purse, everyone that means more to me than life itself are here, zipping my purse close I leave it on the counter in the dressing room before heading out to join my family.
Musicians and singers alike pause eager to talk to me and offer than own congratulations on my ten year anniversary of being welcomed into the Opry family. After politely as possible dodging lengthy conversations I reach the right wing of the stage. Standing off to the side for a second I bite down on my lower lip, Deacon looks so good, but then again he always does. Side stepping around a VIP guest I smile at my daughters and Colt before I fill the empty space next to Deacon. He doesn't even turn his head to acknowledge me, and suddenly I feel strange like I don't know what to do with my hands. We're side by side a narrow strip of air separating us and I find my body begging for contact with his. Clenching my hands into fists briefly, I make a decision and reach forward my fingers sliding through his larger hand curving around his palm, perfectly manicured fingernails lightly scraping the flesh on the back of his hand. The cool metal of the bracelet he bought me years ago brushing against the inside of his wrist and he lifts his head, blue eyes full of admiration. Deacon offers my hand a gentle squeeze before he lifts it ever so slightly as if he was going to kiss the back of my hand then thought better of it. I can hear Vince Gill's voice introducing me back to the stage and then applause erupts around me from every nook and crany. Peering into his soul my lips curl upward, "I'll see you out there." I tell Deacon who gives me the slightest nod, one that could be mistaken for a twitch, and before I can't possibly put it off any longer I am walking out of the wings and joining Vince Gill on stage.
"Thank you Vince!" Comes out of my mouth in a gracious and humble tone as we hug briefly. "I can't believe it has been ten years already...y'all have been so unbelievably wonderful to me but I wouldn't be here today without Deacon Claybourne. So, if it'd be alright with y'all I'd like to play the song we debuted here the day I was inducted." I pause and the crowd erupts with excited clapping and hoots of approval. Smiling radiantly at the audience I grab a hold of the mic need to steady my hand. "Well a'right then, please welcome back to the stage….Mr. Deacon Claybourne." Extending my arm towards the right wing of the stage Deacon comes strutting out with his slight swagger, the audience raising to their feet clapping wildly as Deacon comes into view. I watch as he walks behind me and carefully retrieves his Gibson from it's stand on stage, he slides the guitar strap over his body before stepping closer to me the only thing between us is the mic stand.
My eyes find his and they watch with interest as he begins to pluck out the oh so familiar intro, he doesn't even bother to check his finger placement along the fretboard reminding me of just how incredibly skilled he is. Filling my lungs with enough air to sing the opening my voice kisses the air, "Sitting here across from you...I swear I won't get lost in you, again...I'm gonna resist."
Our eyes dance about both trying to avoid getting lost in the other right now. When my voice falls out Deacon's fills the space, "A moonlight night a glass of wine, and later we might even find a kiss...but I promise you this…" his eyes glance down to his fretboard finally and mine shift over to the attentive audience we have.
"I...might stare a little longer than I should...Might only reminisce about the good times, and lose myself a little in your eyes." We reach the chorus and our voices blend together, me taking the melody as he filters in and out at expert points with the harmony. "And I might think about forever...but I won't fall in love with you tonight."
Four blue eyes find one another and I know we're done in for there's no turning back, I can't tear my eyes away. "You and I have been here before, our broken heart's are back for more...I guess...It never takes long, and once again, I'm in a haze enchanted as the music plays along...but i'm gonna be strong." As we harmonize on the last phrase of the second verse my knees feel unusually weak, his gaze is causing all my strength to dissipate. Blinking my eyes, the shift away from Deacon's for a split second casting over the people watching in the left wings of the stage.
"I...might stare a little longer than I should...Might only reminisce about the good times, and lose myself a little in your eyes." We sing to one another our voices bleeding together, and it's as if everyone else as melted away and it's just the two of us up there. "And I might think about forever, but I won't fall in love with you tonight." As we approach the bridge of the song I take a breath and watch Deacon's fingers work against the strings of his guitars before my eyes lift and find that his are already staring me down. "We've done this wrong so many times...So, you must please forgive me if I guard this heart of mine." And his voice is there steady and strong backing me through the lengthy notes and keeping our harmonies spot on.
Taking a quick glance out at the full pews not seeing on empty seat fills my heart, but I can not help the fact that my eyes wander back to Deacon's, it's a pull that is completely out of my control. "And I stare a longer than I should…" We sing to one another knowingly, before launching into the next phrase of the chorus, "And only reminisce about the good times….And lose myself a little in your eyes...And I might think about forever, but I won't fall in love with you tonight." Cutting the note off the rest of the instruments fall away allowing us to plunge into the coda, "And I don't know about tomorrow, but I won't fall in love with you tonight…" once we begin singing the instruments filter back in and fill out our sound. "Mhmm tonight." Deacon and I sing together heads leaned close together a casualty of sharing a mic. Not that I am complaining.
Our eyes hold one another captive and my stomach is doing somersaults, and it dawns on me that it is taking all of my willpower not to lean forward and plant a kiss on his applause breaks the bubble we're trapped in and Deacon takes the reigns extending his arm in my direction, "Rayna Jaymes y'all, give it up."
Shifting my eyes to the crowd I smile gratefully and lean towards the mic, "Deacon Claybourne." After his name leaves my lips we smile at one another and I can't resist the urge to be close to him and step forward wrapping my arm around him my other hand gripping onto his neck tightly, his rough cheek presses against mine as my lips whisper, "thank you." When I feel his free arm circle around my waist and his face bury in the crook of my neck I relish in the familiarity of it all. The contact burning me down to a pool of ashes on the floor, it's the closest we've been in so long. I can't help but enjoy the pressure of his body firmly molded against mine.
# #
We file off the stage and Deacon and I get swallowed up by friends. Chattering away with a fellow Opry member my eyes skirt across the wings looking for Deacon. When I finally spot him I stealthy slip away from the conversation as someone else enters. Nudging Deacon gently he turns and smiles at me throwing an arm over my shoulders giving me a half hug before removing his arm, probably trying to avoid creating a buzz for no reason. Nodding my head towards the hallway that leads to my dressing room Deacon makes his excuses and we bid goodbye before trekking down the hall. Once we finally make it to my dressing room I slowly close the door behind us. "That was," pausing I rake through my vocabulary to find a suitable word for what our intimate duet just did to my insides.
"Yeah...I-I…" his entire face paled as he froze mid-sentence, mouth hanging open tongue slightly raised, Deacon's eyes grew slightly as he attempted to continue, but couldn't seem to manage to stammer out a response to my statement.
"Deacon!" Worry fills my voice at this point, and I am at his side in what I would assume is considered a nano second. Grabbing onto him I guide him toward the couch in my dressing room and help him into a sitting position. "I'm calling 911." Comes out of my mouth as I frantically spring off the couch and grab my purse off the counter my hand shuffling through the depths blindly digging for my iPhone. Glancing down briefly my eye take in the inside of my purse as I shift through chap-sticks, loose change, tubes of mascara, a packet of Kleenex, and foundation. Resuming my former spot next to Deacon my fingers curl around my iPhone and just before I can punch the numbers into the phone his hand lays over mine stopping me.
Our eyes lock, and having had countless years reading his pupils, assessing them, I know for a fact that he is silently telling me no, not to call 911. And to this request I feel my facial features contort, he must be crazy that or there is something that he hasn't told me. My worried eyes watch him intently, Deacon focuses all his energy on his breathing and slowly his hands ride up and down the legs of his jeans. After, what feels like an hour but had only been a minute or so, he closes his mouth and moves his jaw around a little bit. When he exhales and closes his eyes I sit at his side waiting, I know he'll tell me what the hell is going on when he's recovered, but seeming him so disoriented and lacking strength has done a number on me. It's as if all images that have been seared into my memory of his lifeless body rush back to me at once.
"Deacon, what the hell was that?"
"It's okay Ray, I promise."
"That's not okay; that's not normal."
"Yeah, it is normal."
"What? Deacon what are you saying?" I hate that he's being so cryptic, why is it so hard for him to just give me a straight answer? "That isn't the first time that's happened, is it?"
"No," he returns not lifting his eyes up to meet mine. "Look Rayna, I didn't want to tell you this...not until I had better news."
"Tell me what?" My insides are tangling themselves together creating a knotted mess at the sudden seriousness that has filled his voice; my heart constricts and drops to my feet.
"I have cirrhosis of the liver Rayna...cancer." Deacon breathes out his eyes slowly moving up from our laced hands to assess my reaction.
"What?"
"Rayna…" I can feel his hands give mine a gentle squeeze, but my mind is racing how long has he been keeping me in the dark about this.
"How long have you known?"
"About a month."
Realization dawns on me than, a month ago I was suppose to be walking down the aisle to marry another man, a month ago I circled back to what I had been running from for years, Deacon. "Did you know this when I stopped by your place after I called off the wedding?"
"Yeah."
"Deacon, how could not have told me this?" Pushing myself up off the couch I begin to pace the room.
"Ray, you said you needed time...I figured that meant space, and besides this isn't your problem I don't want you feelin' sorry for me, taking care of me...that's all you've ever done babe."
"You didn't tell me this because of your pride, come on Deacon, we have a daughter who needs her father. Is that why you've been distancing yourself from Maddie?"
"Yeah." Deacon admits as we eye one another.
"What's the prognosis." Tears well behind my blue eyes, everyone, myself included, always said that one day his drinking was going to kill him, and sweet lord I hope he proves us all wrong.
"They couldn't give me a time table, babe...they offered to let me part of a clinical trial, but I turned that down...but I'm on the transplant list and I'm doing everything I can to help with my condition."
A faint knock wraps against the door, a curetous knock, since the door flings open before I can even open my mouth. Maddie and Daphne step into the room and I spin around wiping agitatedly under my eyes trying to make sure that I am composed when I turn back toward them.
"Deacon!" Daphne squeals.
"Hey Daph" I hear him return and when I spin back toward them my youngest is drowning in Deacon's arms. Maddie smiles brightly at me and as she eyes her sister and her father interact.
"Mom, can we go out for frozen yogurt?" Daphne pleads clasping her hands together, pleading, she's just short of being on her knees begging. Laughing at her antics I shrug my shoulders.
"Well, I s'ppose so, I think y'all deserved it."
"We did, didn't we?" My youngest most energetic child agrees.
"Mhmm," I nod smiling at her.
"Deacon, you have to come with!" Maddie encourages and his eyes seek out mine.
"If that's a'right with your mama."
"Y'all did just play the Opry with me...I think you've earned some frozen yogurt." Is my response to his wariness to accept our daughter's invitation. We both know there is so much to discuss, but for now they'll try and distract themselves with the company of the girls and frozen yogurt.
# # # #
Hurriedly climbing the steps of Deacon's porch in East Nashville my knuckles connected with the door as I waited. His car wasn't in front of the house so I didn't have much faith that he was here. However, I was hopeful that at least maybe I'd be lucky and Scarlett would be home, and maybe she had an idea of where exactly Deacon was. The moment the door swung open my mouth sputtered out words stringing together a somewhat coherent sentence.
"Hi Scarlett is, uh...is your uncle here? I've been trying to get a hold of him and he's not answering his phone."
"Deacon went up to his cabin." Scarlett says to me with a semi shocked expression as to why I'm on the porch of his house.
"He went alone?"
"Yeah, he does that sometimes. " She tells me tugging on the ties of her robe, tightening it.
"Since his diagnosis? "
"You know?"
"Uh, yeah...the other night after he performed with me at the Opry he had an, an episode, as he called it, and well he explained everything."
"Ah, well, I am glad you finally know... I wanted to tell you, hell I begged Deacon to tell you, but he wouldn't until he had some good news."
"He's a stubborn and proud man." I say nodding my head as I tap my foot anxiously, eyes skittishly bouncing around the fixtures of his house. "Did he happen to say when he was gonna be back?"
"No, but he has an appointment Wednesday morning, so I imagine he'll be back by Tuesday night."
"Oh, okay thanks. "
It's Saturday afternoon and the feeling of Deacon's body solidly against mine last night still haunts me. Having just dropped the girls off at Teddy's I made a rash decision. Jumping into my car, I start it up before plugging my iPod into the sound radio. I scroll through the countless artists until I reach my Johnny Cash Collection pressing play before switch gears in my SUV, putting it into drive and setting out towards the highway.
# #
The familiar body of water set behind my dream house puts a smile on my face and I park my Chevy SUV next to his shiny truck, this was the right decision. There were no audience up here, it was just Deacon and I, there was nothing standing between us, not anymore. Taking a deep breath I grab my purse and drop my keys and phone into it before making my way up the porch and to the sliding door. My eyes scan across the yard smirking at the hammock stretched between two large trees in the distance. Peering into the house through the door I still don't see any sign of Deacon and panic spreads across my chest, nearly paralyzing me in my spot on the porch. Digging out my keys I finger through them until I find the one I'm looking for. Jamming it into the keyhole I turn and the lock clicks over allowing me to open the door. Slowly opening the door I step over the threshold and my eyes skirt over the living room and kitchen, searching.
"Rayna...wh-what are you doing here?" His voice questions as he eyes me.
Closing the door behind me without losing his eyes I reply, "I couldn't get a hold of you...I was worried."
Deacon nods and I we both assess one another, "I'm sorry, Ray...I'm sorry I-I didn't tell you sooner."
Nodding slowly I lick my lips and step away from the door narrowing the gap between us."Look, I know we have a lot to discuss and a lot to work through...but can we just table that for now?"
"Rayna-"
Being the stubborn feisty woman that I am I fix him with a look and Deacon sighs shaking his head at me.
"You didn't bring a bag with you." He comments, taking stock of the lack of baggage I brought with me on this trip, and knowing good and well just how much I hate making the drive back at night.
"I didn't think I'd be needin' much clothes." My voice nearly whispers back as my feet carry me closer to him.
A chuckle sneaks out of his lips as his eyes drink me in, "would you like to help me make dinner?"
To be continued…
A/N (2): So, it's 2:30am and I sleep deprived and I am going to end this right here. Never fear I will come back and upload the aftermath or this. I am just far too tired to give the proper attention to where this dinner is going to lead our favorite tortured musicians. Anyways, reviews inspire faster turn arounds just keep that in mind. Thanks for reading y'all hope you enjoyed it.