October 2, 2012

"After all these years, you can still jump that wall."

"After all these years, you're still the most beautiful sight, sitting here waiting for me."

Deacon settles besides Rayna on the wooden picnic table, his leg resting against hers.

It was about 14 years ago, one week after he had gotten out after of rehab, when he came home to find a note from Rayna on their kitchen table. The short message, scribbled down on a page torn from a lyrics notebook, led him to the same place they are today. Of all the scenarios his mind had made up on the way there, none was remotely close to what happened the moment he sat next to her. "I'm pregnant." It was supposed to be followed by a long speech about how she knew it wasn't the ideal timing, how she didn't want him to feel any pressure, how she only wanted him to focus on himself, how... But he cut her off with a long kiss before she even got to the end of her first sentence. When he pulled away, her eyes were closed, his forehead pressed against hers. "I'll be there," he repeated a few times. "I'll never have another drink again," and he had never meant anything more in his life.

Since that day, they've met here countless times, sometimes for important but often for mundane conversations. It's become their place. In all these years, the table has been replaced a few times but nothing else has changed.

"How did it go?" Rayna asks.

Deacon got a call from the Revel Kings manager early this morning. The latter was insistent the band wanted a meeting with him today but didn't give more clues as about why.

"The U.S. leg of their tour starts in two weeks but Dubbie broke his wrist. He's out for a few months. They offered me to replace him as lead guitar for the U.S. dates."

"Shoot. Babe, that's great."

"That's what I've been told a few times this afternoon."

She smiles. "What do you think?"

"It's... very tempting. But it would be months away from you and from the girls and it's all last minute."

"When do you need to give them an answer?"

"As soon as possible. Tomorrow at the latest."

"I think the only question is if you want to do it or not. Everything else, we'll work a solution out. We always do, babe."

November 30, 2012

Deacon enters the hotel's elevator, pushes the button and slumps against the wall. If there was any doubt left in his mind, these last two months erased it: clean or not, Cy is still the same pain in the ass. Whatever Deacon does on stage, it seems he's either not putting enough of a show, either putting too much of a show and bruising Cy's ego. He's starting to wonder if that elusive happy medium he's supposed to find actually exists.

He sighs before getting his phone out of his pocket. He checks the time. 1:45 am. Rayna's probably asleep but it's one of those nights when he really needs to hear her voice. He calls her number as he gets out of the elevator.

"Hey, babe."

"Sorry, did I wake you up?"

"I wasn't sleeping. How was the show?"

"Great, according to everyone's opinion but Cy's. I'm getting back to the hotel now."

Deacon reaches his room and puts the key card in the slot. When he opens the door, he finds Rayna sitting on the bed, leaned against the headboard. She drops her phone on the nightstand.

"It's about time."

"Security in this hotel is really lacking." He grins as he quickly closes the distance to the bed.

"That's what I told them when they let me in."

Rayna gets up and slides her arms around Deacon's neck.

"Hey, you."

"Why are you here, you crazy person?" He's still grinning when he lifts her up and presses his mouth against hers. After he puts her back down, he slides one hand underneath her top, brushing the back of his fingers against her skin.

"I just heard something in your voice when you called yesterday. It sounded like... you needed me."

"Thanks, baby," he whispers, suddenly more serious. "Where are the girls?"

"With Scarlett. I'm all yours for the next 24 hours at least."

"Is that right." He smiles as they fall on the bed behind.

The next morning, they're sitting at a table near a glass wall in a small cafe. It started snowing half an hour ago and everything outside is covered by a small layer of white. They've walked here, Deacon's arm around Rayna's shoulder and hers around his waist, laughing while trying not to skid on the slippery sidewalk.

"Is it really only Cy getting on your nerves or is there something else, babe?" Rayna asks when she catches him looking outside wistfully.

"Carmen is on the tour for a few dates. She's doing an article on the band for Tremolo."

"Carmen?"

"Vince's Carmen."

Deacon and Rayna had lost touch with her after Vince's funeral. It wasn't their fault, it wasn't her fault. Tragedy can bring people closer but tragedy can draw people apart. Sometimes someone's presence only becomes a constant reminder of painful memories.

"How is she doing?"

"Good." He pauses. "It's been 15 years, Ray. Sounds crazy when I think about it."

"Are you alright?"

"I am. Really. Don't worry. But being alone, away from you and the girls, I've got too much time to think about what my life would have looked like if you had given up on me back then."

"I would never have given up on you."

"You could have. Certainly no one would have blamed you for that."

"I don't give a fuck what everyone would have thought or not, I would never have given up on you."

She holds his gaze. He reaches for her hand across the table and laces his fingers with hers.

After a moment, his face loosens up.

"That's one dollar, by the way," he says, amused.

"Shut up," she chuckles.

She untangles their fingers and runs her fingertip on the back of his hand.

"Babe, I know you first instinct is rarely to talk, but I'm always here, you know that."

"I know. And I promise, everything's fine."