New story. It is basically about Rayna/Deacon and the cabin. Not sure how long this will be, but I've already gotten the second chapter done. Hope you enjoy!
Home Again
I steady myself for the onslaught of yelling voices and flashes from the cameras. It's been nearly six weeks since I called off the wedding. The press scrutiny hasn't gotten in better, if anything it has intensified more. The weekly tabloids came out yesterday. Every magazine, from PEOPLE to the National Enquirer still carry weekly stories about Luke and I. I've actually bought several rags with the worst Photoshop and best headlines. There was "Runaway Rayna", "HeartbRAYker", and Deacon's personal favorite, "Rayna says, "Wheel's Up!"
My body guard opens the back passenger door and immediately I hear my name being yelled by half a dozen grown men. I don't look up, instead I just count the steps between the car and the front door of the hotel. I used to crave this: the attention, the spotlight. I loved signing autographs for the fans after shows or have a line of fans at the hotel when I arrived. But this is scary and loud. I can feel one guy breathe on my neck as another set of flashbulbs go off. Another yells something crude about "Luke" and a "supermodel." This feels intrusive and personal. Several more yell my name and another puts his body between the sliding glass doors and the security I've hired. More lights go off, more yelling happens.
It is only fourteen steps until I'm behind the sliding glass door. The lights flash over my head but at least their voices are muffled, at least they aren't close to me anymore. I quickly hop on the waiting elevator with the bodyguard and head to the Penthouse.
I look down at my phone and notice a text message from Maddie. It's probably another picture of Deacon, Maddie and Daphne. The three of them are up at the cabin for a few days and apparently having the time of their lives. While Luke hasn't formally fired Deacon, he did add another opening act to "give Deacon a break". Layla Grant is now doing the next three weeks of tour dates and then theoretically, Deacon will do four weeks after that. Of course, I don't for one minute believe Luke will actually let Deacon do another show. Deacon actually hopes Luke fires him. He's been getting offers to be opening acts on several other tours in the spring. His album has been getting some good buzz in the last few months.
With our Grammy win for 'This Time' and Deacon's name being batted about in the press, his little label is actually willing to spend a little bit of money to promote him.
The elevator dings and then I'm in my suite. It's a fifteen room duplex complete with a gym, sauna, and ten seat movie theatre. Daphne would be bouncing off the walls if she were here. Maddie would try to hide her excitement at getting to sleep in the bedroom with a giant headboard that was also a fish tank. Of course, Deacon and I could have all kinds of fun in the bedroom made to resemble a disco ball. The brightness might be a tad overwhelming but the eighty different mirrors would be exciting. But it's just me, by myself. I get lost for a moment in my loneliness, feeling sorry for myself.
My phone dings several times in a row. I assume its Maddie, sending me an update or another photo. The girls have been sending pictures to me all day. Maddie fell in love with the cabin when she and Deacon went up for there for the fishing trip. Then to escape the post-wedding mess, me and the girls went up there for the week of Christmas. Of course, by December 23rd, Deacon was up there with us. Deacon stayed on the couch that week. When the four of us came back up to the cabin to ring in the New Year, I managed to convince Deacon that he was too old to sleep on that couch. I blush as I recall exactly how we rang in 2015. By the end of that week, the girls never wanted to go back to Nashville. Of course, neither did I.
My phone dings again. This time it's Juliette. She sends information about some new artist she saw today. I forward on the information to Bucky and thank Juliette before telling her to get some rest.
I open my I-PAD and check my email. There are a dozen or so emails about Highway 65. Sadie sent me a sweet message and two digital tracks that she and Avery have been working on. Another email is from Tandy. She claims she's happy in San Francisco but I'm not convinced.
There is another ding on my phone. This time it was a picture of Deacon helping Daphne during an impromptu guitar lesson. Deacon has own a baseball hat, one that I'm sure smells of fish and river water. Daphne's wearing one of Maddie's shirts with a hat to match. I have such mixed emotions looking at this picture. I tear up out of happiness and loneliness. I don't think I've ever seen Deacon so happy, so light. He seems relaxed, for that matter so does Daphne. She seems calm which a miracle in and of itself.
I'm three hours away from them but I swear it feels so much further. I do feel at peace knowing my girls are with Deacon. It isn't like I don't trust Teddy. I do trust them to keep the girls safe and provide supervision. But Teddy has become incredibly insecure with holding onto the girls love. Ever since Maddie found out that Teddy cheated on me, he's been worried that he was losing his little girl. Those fears got so much worse after Maddie found out about Deacon. Now, all of sudden he is fine with Daphne getting her ears pierced and Maddie getting blonde hi-lights. He put the idea in the girls' head that he would be perfectly fine if they were signed to a label. He promised Maddie a new car on her sixteenth birthday and last week checked Daphne out of school "just to have ice cream and go shopping." It feels like I'm in some weird competition with Teddy, to see who the favorite parent is.
Deacon is different. He doesn't try to compete with me or with Teddy. He isn't spoiling my girls for the sake of one-ups man ship. He's taking them fishing and teaching them how to hold a shotgun. He is listening, probably for hours, as Daphne describes in very great detail what kind of party she wants for her next birthday. He's indulging Maddie with things like chocolate pancakes on Saturday mornings and extra-long writing sessions. I scroll back through my pictures that Maddie has already sent me and feel tears in my eyes. Deacon was right. It is supposed to Maddie, Daphne, me and him.
Except I'm a hundred and ninety miles away. I haven't seen the girls in eleven days and it's been twelve since I've last seen Deacon. It isn't like Deacon can just jump on a plane right now with all the press coverage. The press have started stalking Deacon too. Several photographers have been camping outside of Deacon's Nashville home, I guess hoping to get a glimpse of me.
After all, I'm "Runaway Rayna" according to PEOPLE and anyone connected to Runaway Rayna needs to be staked too.
I look down at my watch. It would take an hour before Buck could get a car ready for me, another three hours before I would be at the cabin. I would have to leave the cabin no later than 1:00 pm to be back for sound check. In my head, I rationalize that one of the backup singers could fill in for me. Then, I could stay until 3:30 in the afternoon, maybe 4:00 tomorrow if I am pushing it. I quickly dial Bucky's number. He volunteers his vehicle, it's down in the parking deck. 14 minutes later, hotel security escorts me to freight elevator. I'm wearing a baseball cap with my hair tucked up under and carrying a small bag with me. It doesn't matter. Bucky's car is in the back of the underground parking deck. Plus, it's nearly eleven thirty and the press have all left for the night.
Once out the city, the highway is nearly empty, save for some eighteen wheelers. My phone lights up and I quickly answer. Deacon's voice sounds scratchy, the way it does when he wakes up in the morning. I put my foot on the gas as I pass another mile marker, God, I want to see this man. We talk about our day. I give up him an update on Sadie's album. He tells me about Daphne trying to hook a worm and then plays a recording he made earlier of the girls singing a song they wrote.
Thirty minutes into the conversation, I tell him that I'm only 139 miles away. He worries that I'm driving at this time of night; but, then I can sense the excitement in his voice. As the miles tick away, the two of us talk about the most mundane things: what we are going to eat for breakfast and whether buying Daphne a kayak for her birthday is too much. I hear him yawn and encourage him to go to bed. I'm wide awake and promise Deacon I'm going to call Tandy. It will only be 10 something there. He tells me he loves me and warns me to be careful.
Tandy and I get lost in conversation for a while. She admits she misses me and the girls. She mentions some new boyfriend. His name is Roger. He's an accountant with three grown sons. It doesn't sound serious or interesting that for matter. But the conversation takes nearly 25 minutes and 33 miles to get through.
As the last eighty miles go by, I get lost in my own thoughts. I can't help but wonder how Luke is doing. The press has hounded him just as much as they've stalked me. I hate it for him; after all this breakup is my fault. Of course, Luke loves the limelight way more than I have. He likes the fame in a way that's never appealed to me. Sure, I like being the reigning queen of country. I like my album being on top, love my label having success. But I like being able to walk outside in my pajamas to get my mail. I enjoy grocery shopping without having to worry that people across America will see my picture with toilet paper and deodorant in my grocery bags.
I wrote Luke a letter a few weeks ago, it was an apology of sorts. It was long and heartfelt. But I haven't heard from him since; not that I expect to. I just wish he could know that I truly did care about him. I did love him. I love him the same way I loved Teddy. I love that he wanted me to be happy. I love that he loved me. But it wasn't enough and I was an idiot to believe it ever would be enough.
The next mile marker shows that it is only 35 miles away from my turnoff, then another fifteen minutes to my babies. I arch my back and turn on the radio. I get lost in a few songs and my own thoughts. My foot hits the gas pedal, ready to be home. I feel all warm and tingly thinking that the cabin is home again. My children have beds in the spare room now. Hell, the spare bedroom is "their" room now as they constantly remind me. They have also claimed the cramped small bathroom at the bottom of the stairwell has a new purple and silver shower curtain.
I pull off the main road, drive over the highway bridge and take a deep breath. Three more songs and I pass the community of Millingtown. It's a small town, population less than 500 but it's the closest dot on the map to the cabin. I pass the IGA and the mom and pop diner that serves the best damn red velvet cake in the south. I take the fork in the road, passing the Presbyterian Church. Another two songs and a commercial break later, I hit the dirt road. Potter's Farm Road goes on for almost a mile and half, then I take the cut through the woods. Before I know it, I'm tip toeing up the stairs of the porch.
The soft light from the fireplace dances over the living room. There, asleep on the couch, is Deacon. He looks so peaceful when he is sleeps now, so much different than how it used to be. There were no worry lines on his brow now, he doesn't mumble or wince in his sleep anymore.
I stare at Deacon, thinking this last minute road trip was completely worth it, just for this moment. When I was younger, I would hear some older man or woman talk about how "handsome" or "pretty" their significant other was. It seemed silly back then that some seventy year old woman thought a man in suspenders, high water pants, and a receding hairline was attractive.
Now I get it. It's been twenty six years since the first time I saw Deacon Claybourne. He's still sexy to me, still the most attractive man I've ever seen. It occurs to me how close I came to losing him forever. Well, at least losing him as anything other than Maddie's father. A lump forms in my throat and for a second I get teary eyed. I promise myself that I will never push this man away again, I'll never do anything but hold on to him as tight as possible.
I give Deacon one last look before running into the master bedroom, overnight bag in tow. I change in into pajamas and brush my teeth before heading upstairs. The bedroom door is slightly ajar and I push it open further. Once my eyes adjust, I make out a mop of blonde hair on the left side. A moment later, I make out my Maddie on the right. Their eyes are shut tight and their breathing is deep. I close my eyes in a silent prayer, grateful that I get to see my babies tonight, grateful that they are safe and healthy. And they are asleep, in the same twin bed. The cabin really wasn't made for four people, especially not when two of them are teenage girls.
I make my way back downstairs, turning off several lights as I go. The kitchen seems clean, especially for Deacon. I wash out a few glasses and put them back in the cabinet.
Then I walk over to the couch again. I settle in beside Deacon, content just to stare at him for another moment. I run the pads of my fingers onto Deacon's forehead, brushing his hair to the side. He whispers my name in his sleep. I nudge him awake and he slowly opens his eyes. His smile grows wider, his dimples grow deeper. I lean down to kiss him. It is slow and sweet. I pull him up off the couch and we walk to the bedroom together, our fingers intertwined.
He is still half asleep and the hour is catching up with me too, so I push him into bed and snuggle up beside him. What he doesn't know is I've already set my alarm for 8 am. The girls don't typically wake up before 9 on non-school days. I figure that will give us some 'alone time' before the girls wake up.
Deacon pulls me closer and with one more quick kiss, I fall asleep completely content and relaxed for the first time in over a week. This truly is home now or perhaps home again, depending on how I look at it. Still, there is there no other place in the world I'd rather be right now than right here, right now.