A/N: This is the first part of a chapter that got way too long to post in its entirety. I'm aiming to post the second part before Christmas. Thanks again for all the lovely feedback, I so appreciate it! And thanks once more to Shiny Jewel for beta-reading.
Chapter Eleven
Going Home, Part 1
As the plane came to a stop and the captain turned off the fasten seat belt sign, Deacon stepped into the aisle and reached into the overhead bin, pulling out his satchel and Rayna's carry-on. She shouldered her purse and collected her coat before trying to wedge herself out of the window seat. Deacon watched her struggle and then stepped out of the tight aisle, setting her luggage on the middle seat. He motioned to the impatient line of people waiting behind him to go ahead, and put his hand on Rayna's arm.
"Hang on, baby. There's no rush. Let's just wait until we get a little more space."
Rayna grimaced. No, there was no rush. Except for the one she was going to make for the ladies' room if she ever got off this damned plane. She had a single charting sky high and an album coming out at Christmas that was likely to be her biggest ever. But until she started seeing royalty checks, she would have to fly coach.
The plane began to empty and Deacon gazed down at her. "You ready to do this, darlin'?"
"What – spend the weekend with your entire family when I'm seven months pregnant, we're not married and half of them think we're going to hell? Sure. Why wouldn't I be ready, Deacon?
He shook his head, laughing.
"What?" she asked, as he helped her wriggle out of the tight row of seats, the plane nearly empty by now.
"Nothin'. You're cute when you're grumpy, that's all."
She rolled her eyes, but took the arm he offered her as they went down the stairs at the front of the plane and looked over at him, concerned, as they walked toward the terminal. "How are you doing, babe? I know you want to talk to your mother while we're here. That's not going to be easy."
"I'll be okay, Ray. Don't worry about me."
"I'm not worried," she said, putting her arm around his waist. "I'm just glad I came along with you."
"Me too," he said, looking around as they walked inside the terminal.
The gate area was nearly devoid of people, save for the dark-haired woman wearing brown slacks and a high-necked, rust-colored sweater, standing near the window. She was so small and shy-looking that she might have been called mousy, if she weren't so beautiful. Her thick, long brown hair was twisted up and pinned at the crown of her head and she wore no makeup, though her large, expressive blue eyes were fringed with heavy black lashes and her finely drawn lips were naturally pink and full.
"There she is," Deacon said, gesturing toward the woman. Rayna took in the conflicted look on his face. "I need to find the restroom, babe. I'm going to give you two a minute. I'll be right back." He nodded, still staring at the woman across the terminal as Rayna walked away.
Deacon went toward his mother, putting the bags down as he reached her. He pulled her into a hug. "Hey, Mama," he said, holding her tightly, his eyes closed.
"Deacon. It's good to see you, honey," she responded, her soft voice wrapped in a thick drawl. "I've missed you so." She pulled back and looked up at him, smiling tentatively.
"I missed you too. How are you? You're lookin' awful pretty."
Linnie Mae Claybourne blushed and looked down at the floor. "Well, I don't know about that. It must be seein' you that's put a rose in my cheek, darlin'."
"Yeah? Well, I guess maybe that's so. Thanks for havin' Ray and me for the holiday. We appreciate it."
"You're always welcome here, dear, I hope you know that," she said, rather anxiously. "We're gonna have a real houseful today. Whole lotta kinfolk come right on out of the woodwork, soon as they heard that you and Rayna would be eatin' turkey with us."
"I don't doubt that. Ray's got that song doin' real good right now. I hope you're not workin' too hard, though."
"Oh, your Aunt Sallie and I've been up since 5:30, gettin' the dressin' in the bird and puttin' it in the oven. Had to get a real big one this year; a 28-pounder. Aunt Sallie and your Uncle Jake'll be stayin' with us this weekend. And Scarlett, too."
"Is that right? I can't wait to see her. She must be gettin' big."
"She sure is; she's almost seven. Your sister's not gonna be with us. Seems that she's got herself a new boyfriend. They've gone off together for the long weekend," Linnie said, her tone making clear that she didn't approve of her daughter's romantic entanglements. Her face lit up, however, as Rayna joined them. "Darlin' girl!" she exclaimed, reaching up to embrace Rayna and kiss her cheek. "How y'all feelin', honey?"
Rayna hugged Linnie Mae, picking up the familiar scent of gardenias in her hair. "I'm just fine. Thank you so much for having me down to visit."
Linnie stepped back and surveyed Rayna's stylish teal maternity sweater and jeans. "Well, we all are just downright privileged to have you with us, darlin'. And our Deacon, too, of course," she said, smiling. "You sure are lookin' different than you did the last time I saw you, aren't you?"
Rayna laughed a little, nodding and raising her eyebrows. "Mmmm-hmmm," she said, resting her right palm on her abdomen. "Won't be too much longer now, thank goodness."
"Well, I'm real happy for you, and for Deacon. Now I suppose we'd better go get your bags and get on the road, hadn't we? We still got a whole lotta cookin' to do back home."
Deacon took the wheel for the hour-long drive into Natchez from the Baton Rouge airport. Along the way, Linnie Mae chattered brightly, filling them in on family news and gossip, most of which went right over Rayna's head, though it seemed to amuse Deacon. As they pulled up in front of her house, the door flew open and a blonde, pig-tailed girl raced to the car. "Uncle Deacon!" she shouted, jumping up and down. Deacon broke into a huge smile and got out of the car, catching the child in his arms and whirling her around.
"Well, who's this grown-up lady? Don't tell me this is Miss Scarlett!? How's my favorite niece doin'?" he said, laughing and hugging her. Rayna watched the two of them. She remembered the last time Deacon's sister had visited him in Nashville, and how she'd called Deacon "a natural with kids." She smiled as Scarlett settled happily into Deacon's arms. He carried her up the driveway and onto the porch. Would he be carrying his own daughter into this house a year from now?
Rayna walked up to them and kissed the girl on the cheek. "Hey Scarlett, do you remember me? You were just a bitty little thing the last time I saw you."
Scarlett nodded shyly and smiled. "I know who you are - you're Rayna Jaymes. My mama listens to your songs. And me, too." She glanced sideways at Deacon and announced in a loud whisper: "Miss Rayna looks pretty. Granny says she's gonna have a baby."
Deacon and Rayna exchanged grins. "Well, your granny just might be right about that," he said. "What do you think about havin' a baby cousin?"
"I think I'd like it," Scarlett said, squirming to get down. "I brought some Christmas presents for the baby. Come inside and I'll show you." Deacon set her down and she reached her hand out to Rayna. "C'mon, Rayna," she said, dragging Rayna inside the house.
Uncle Jake, Linnie's brother-in-law, walked out onto the wide, wrap-around porch. He was a quiet man with a grizzled chin and a shock of white hair that stood nearly on end. Deacon had always had a soft spot for him. "Hey there, Uncle Jake. Good to see you again," he said, shaking the old man's hand.
"Thanks, Deke, good to see you, too."
"How you doin' these days?"
"Well, I can't complain. Guess I got plenty to be thankful for today. We got a mighty fine turkey cookin' in that kitchen there, for one thing. Hope y'all brought your appetites with you. Hey, let me take some of those bags there." He helped Deacon carry the luggage into the large, rundown clapboard house that was already saturated with the heavenly aroma of roasting turkey.
Five minutes later, after they'd gotten everything inside, Linnie Mae gently pried Rayna away from Scarlett and led her to the first-floor guest room where Jake had stowed her luggage. Rayna smiled, highly amused, as Deacon trudged up the back stairs behind his mother to his old, second-floor bedroom. He turned back to look at her and she waved jauntily, nearly causing him to laugh out loud. He had been right about the sleeping arrangements – pregnant or not, unmarried people did not consort under Linnie Mae's roof. Not if she could help it.
Rayna unpacked and lay down on the bed, intending to just close her eyes a minute, but soon felt herself drifting off. She slept about half an hour and felt much better when she woke up. She freshened up in the hall bathroom and wandered into the large kitchen, where Deacon was sitting at a table with Scarlett on his lap, eating lunch. Jake was perched on a stool in a corner of the large room.
Rayna sat down across from Deacon after Linnie introduced her to Aunt Sallie, a handsome woman with auburn hair piled high on her head. She was presiding over the cooking, armed with a wooden mixing spoon and a turkey baster. A larger, louder version of Linnie - and 10 years older - Sallie occasionally barked out instructions to Jake or her sister. Since their mother had passed several years earlier, Rayna knew, Sallie had become the undisputed matriarch of the extended Dillon clan. She and Jake lived on a farm about 100 miles south of Natchez. They had never had children, though that didn't stop her from weighing in regularly on the child-rearing practices of the younger set.
Sallie set a glass of milk and a peanut butter sandwich in front of Rayna, but not before cautioning her, "Don't y'all eat too much. We got pecan, sweet potato and praline pumpkin pie for dessert."
"Thank you so much. It all sounds wonderful," Rayna said, smiling.
"Now, don't over-roll that pie crust," Sallie instructed Linnie, who had donned an apron herself and was wrestling with a massive ball of dough on the drain board. "You want it to bake up flaky and tender." She looked over at Deacon, frowning as she opened the oven door and revealed a huge turkey, already turning golden brown. "Deke, what do you think about that crazy sister of yours? She's off with another one of her boyfriends, Lord help us all," she said, maneuvering the baster expertly into the pan, sucking up the juices and baptizing the plump bird thoroughly before sliding it back into the oven and closing the door.
Rayna could tell by the look on his face that the criticism made Deacon uncomfortable, especially with Scarlett sitting on his lap, all ears. "That turkey sure smells good, Aunt Sallie," Deacon said, trying for a safer topic. "You and Mama made your cornbread dressin' again this year, I hear? You know I'm gonna want an extra helpin' of that."
But Sallie was not easy to sidetrack. "I know your mama doesn't like this boy your sister's seein', but what can she do?" she sighed. "I guess none of us can control what kinds of decisions our children make once they get too big to be turned over our knees. Ain't that right, Linnie Mae?"
From the corner, Jake cleared his throat pointedly, but Sallie was just getting started. She turned and looked sharply at Rayna, then at Deacon. "Seems you young people are makin' all kinds of decisions these days. Like doin' some things without the blessin' of the holy institution of matrimony, for instance."
"Now, Sallie," Jake started, but Sallie pushed on stubbornly.
"Hold your horses there now, Jake. In our day, if a couple was fixin' to bring a child into this world, they at least had the decency to get to the preacher and make things right before the Lord. Well - I guess that's not how things are done up there in Nashville these days."
Rayna sat frozen in her seat, feeling the heat rise up her face. Deacon had warned her that some of his fundamentalist relatives might be critical of their out-of-wedlock status, but she hadn't expected to be challenged directly in front of everyone like this.
Deacon set Scarlett down and stood up. "Aunt Sallie, I don't want you talkin' about Rayna and me like we're not decent folks."
"Don't you go puttin' me in my place, Deacon Claybourne!" she snapped back. "You're gettin' awful big for your britches, up there, playin' guitar for all kind of big shots and travelin' all around the country. I guess I don't have to remind you that I changed your diapers - and your sister's too. I know a thing or two about life!"
Scarlett was standing next to the table, her eyes wide. "Aunt Sallie, are you gonna put Uncle Deacon over your knee?" she asked.
"Well, no I'm not, Scarlett honey. He's too big for that. But it might do him some good if I could!"
"That's enough, Sallie Jo, " Jake started, his voice raised.
"Aunt Sallie ..." Deacon started to say, too. But both of them were interrupted by a loud noise coming from over in the corner.
"Stop it, all of you! Stop it right now!" The room went quiet and everyone turned to look at Linnie Mae, who had been all but forgotten in the hubbub. She was stamping her foot repeatedly on the linoleum floor, standing next to the sink clutching a dish towel, her apron smudged and a dusting of flour in her hair. Her face was red and she looked scared to death, but her eyes blazed fiercely. "This is my house and I won't have anyone disrespectin' Rayna – nor Deacon – while they're in it! Not even you, Sallie Jo Dillon. Y'all hear me!?"
No one said a word. None of them could remember the last time Linnie Mae had raised her voice, let alone challenged her older sister. Rayna looked over at Deacon. He was staring at his mother, transfixed.
The small woman cleared her throat and continued, her voice quieter but just as firm. "I know that we don't always agree with the choices our children make after we raise 'em up. Not all the time, anyway. But that doesn't mean they ain't kinfolk, or that we don't love 'em just the same. Sallie, I'll tell you what: As far as I'm concerned, havin' a new child come into this world, and into this family, is somethin' to celebrate. And that's all needs to be said about it."
The room was absolutely silent after she stopped talking. Linnie stood stock still, all eyes on her, clutching her dish towel for dear life. She suddenly looked like she was about to cry.
Uncle Jake got up from his stool and reached for Scarlett's hand. "C'mon, missy. I got some wood to bring up to the porch so we can have a fire later. Think maybe you can help me carry it?"
"Sure!" Scarlett said, allowing herself to be led out the back door. Jake turned and shot a meaningful glance at his wife as he exited.
Sallie shuffled her feet, still standing beside the oven with the turkey baster in her right hand. She put it down and took a deep breath, then smoothed her hands over her apron and cleared her throat. "Well. I guess Linnie Mae's right," she said, looking first at Rayna and then at Deacon. "I'm gettin' to be an old woman and I'm far too outspoken. That wasn't Christian of me, talkin' to you two like that. I don't know what come over me. I'm sorry. Can y'all forgive me? I don't want to ruin your holiday."
Deacon looked at Rayna, who nodded at him. "Of course, Aunt Sallie," he said, walking over and kissing her on the cheek. "Ray and I – we're workin' a few things out yet, I'll admit that. But we aim to do right by this child of ours, I promise you."
"I know you will, honey. You always were a good boy." She looked over at Rayna. "I'm awful sorry I took after you like that, Miss Jaymes," she said. "I shouldn't go messin' in what's none of my business."
"It's all right, Sallie," Rayna said. "Like Deacon said, everything's forgiven."
Deacon walked over to his mother, who was shaking like a leaf. "Let's take a little walk, Mama, get some fresh air. I got somethin' I want to talk to you about." He looked over at Rayna and gestured toward the back door. "C'mon, Ray, come take a walk with us."
Rayna looked at him for a minute. She knew he needed time alone with his mother. "That's all right, you two go on," she said, "I think I'll stay here and give Aunt Sallie a hand with the cooking."
Deacon raised his eyebrows but she smiled at him and nodded again. She hadn't spent years at the negotiating table with tough-as-nails record label executives only to be intimidated by his elderly aunt, no matter how formidable she seemed. "Okay, darlin'. We won't be gone long," he said, as he followed his mother out the back door.
Rayna took her time finishing her sandwich and drinking the last of her milk as Sallie busied herself stirring pots, basting the turkey and rolling pie dough. "What can I do?" Rayna asked finally, picking up her plate and cup and setting them in the sink.
"Well, honey, I feel funny askin' somethin' like this of someone like you - but can you peel a potato?"
Rayna laughed. "I think I can manage that," she said, wondering why people always assumed celebrities were totally helpless once they got offstage.
"All right honey, you sit right there at the table and help me with these potatoes and we'll have ourselves a little chat."
"All right," Rayna agreed, wondering if she was letting herself in for a lecture on the sanctity of marriage and the scourge of bastard children.
"We better do all these potatoes, I think. We got a heap of hungry people comin' in for dinner. I think most of 'em just want to get a good look at you, to tell you the truth. What with that song you got all over the radio."
"Well, I don't look too glamorous these days. I hope I don't disappoint them."
Sallie smiled. "You look beautiful, darlin'. We're all proud to have you at our table."
Rayna smiled back, acknowledging this second apology and realizing that Deacon's aunt had a good heart, even if she was bossy and old-fashioned. "Well, I don't have many relatives in Nashville. It's just my father and my sister and me. So I'm not used to big family parties. You'll have to help me keep everyone straight when they get here."
Sallie began ticking off names, starting with her brothers and their families and then proceeding through several layers of cousins: There was Deacon's Uncle John and Aunt Susan, and their boy Tom and his wife, Terri, who would be coming with their two-year-old, Jenny. And then there was Uncle Henry – he was the brother closest in age to Linnie – who'd never married.
"Uncle Henry," Rayna said slowly. "I don't think I remember Deacon mentioning him."
"Oh," Sallie said, "you probably heard him talk about Uncle Bud. That's Henry. Lot of us go by our nicknames, we don't use our Christian names much. Not unless we're gettin' hauled into a court or a funeral parlor, I imagine."
Rayna laughed. "So, Bud's real name is Henry?"
"Yup. My given name's Sara, after my mother, but everybody's always called me Sallie," she explained. "And Linnie's full name is Madeline. I don't think she ever uses it, except maybe to sign her checks. We called her Linnie Mae from the day our mama brought her home from the hospital."
"Madeline," Rayna said slowly. "Maddie. Maddie Mae."
"What? Who's that?"
"Oh, nobody. I just think it's pretty, that's all.
There was a bite in the air and Deacon's breath came out in white puffs as he walked next to his mother. She was hugging her arms; she had been so flustered when they left the house that she hadn't even taken her coat.
Deacon slid his arm around her. "You were great in there, Mama. Thank you for standin' up for Ray and me."
"You're welcome, darlin'. That old woman's always talkin' out of turn. It's high time someone called her out; I should have done it years ago." They walked along in silence for a while. Then Linnie looked over at Deacon. "There's a lot of things I should've done, honey," she began, tentatively. "I been thinkin' about all that lately, since you told me you and Rayna were expectin'."
"Really?"
"Yes. I'm afraid I didn't do right by you and your sister, Deacon."
He stared, surprised once again. "To tell you the truth, I've been thinkin' about that too, ever since the last time I was in rehab. I wanted to just put it all behind me and never bring it up. I thought I'd be okay if I did that. But that doesn't seem to be the way it works," Deacon said. He looked over at his mother. "I hope you know I'm tryin' hard to get myself straightened out. Before Rayna has the kid, I mean."
"I know you are, honey, and I'm real proud. You look wonderful, so I figure somethin' must be workin' for you. Deacon ... I want you to know that I was wrong, puttin' up with your father all those years when he was hurtin' you. When he was hurtin' all of us. I should've taken you and your sister away the moment it started."
Deacon was almost afraid to speak. He had wanted to hear these words from his mother for years, but he'd never imagined that she would offer them up so readily.
Linnie took a deep breath and continued. "You see, I was just so fearful. I thought I couldn't leave him. I didn't know where we'd go, or what we'd do for money. I never finished school, and Sallie and my brothers didn't have two cents to rub together between 'em back in those days. I couldn't stand the thought of us winding up on charity or on the government dole. And then your father'd cry and beg me to forgive him. He seemed so sincere. He always said he just needed one more chance. And I did love him, Deke. I guess that's hard for you to understand. My parents didn't want me to marry him. And I guess I was too proud – and too stubborn – to admit to everyone that I'd made a mistake." She looked over at Deacon, her cheeks red and her lips trembling. "Can you ever forgive me, do you think?"
Deacon looked at her for a moment, than he stopped and put his arms out. She stepped into them and they held each other, huddled by the side of the road in the cold, her head tucked under his chin. "Course I can, Mama. Of course I can. And you know what? I'm just exactly the same as you. Way too proud and stubborn for my own good."
"Like mother, like son. Isn't that what they always say?" she asked, looking up at him and smiling through watery eyes. "I have somethin' else to tell you, Deke."
"Oh yeah?" he said, releasing her and jamming his hands into his pockets as they resumed their walk. "What's that?"
"Well," she said softly, smiling a little and looking away shyly. "I guess you could say I'm … seein' someone, darlin'."
"Really?" Deacon was astonished. In the 16 years since his father's death, he'd never known his mother to have a beau. "Seein' someone – you mean, like datin' a guy?"
Linnie laughed, embarrassed. "Well … yes." She stole a worried glance at him. "Are you against it, honey?"
"No, Mama. And you don't need my blessin' anyway. I'm just … I'm surprised it's taken you this long, to be honest. Who is it that you're seeing?"
"It's Mr. Jones, the choir director at our church."
"Rick Jones? He's been sweet on you since I was a kid. I remember everyone talkin' about that even way back when."
Linnie pressed her lips together primly. "Well, I don't know anythin' about that, I assure you. But he's a good man, Deacon. He …" she hesitated, hugging herself again, a small smile playing about her lips. "He makes me very happy."
Deacon contemplated her for a moment. No wonder there had been such a change in her. He'd seen something different in her eyes even before she'd stamped her foot in that kitchen and stood up for him - finally, after all these years. He smiled and put his arm around her again. "That's good, Mama, I'm glad to hear it. You deserve happiness. I guess we all do, after what we went through."
"Thank you, darlin'," she said, slipping her arm around him. They turned the corner and headed back toward the house. "I'm so glad you're not drinkin' anymore. I know you're gonna stay away from that bottle for good, this time. You and Rayna – you two got somethin' awful special. Are you back together, now that the baby's comin'?"
Deacon sighed. "I don't know, to tell you the truth. It's complicated. Ray still doesn't trust me and I'm sure I can't blame her. She always believed in me and I broke every damn promise I ever made to her. But we're tryin'. I guess that's the best we can do, for right now."
Cars and trucks began arriving at the house just after 3 o'clock. By that time, Sallie, Rayna and Linnie had peeled mountains of potatoes and boiled and mashed them. The turkey was resting under a tent of foil on the drain board, its juices having been coaxed out and transformed into Aunt Sallie's famous, silky smooth gravy. The cornbread dressing was piled high in serving dishes and set in the warming oven along with platters of green beans and corn. Frosty jello molds, baskets of dinner rolls and cut-glass dishes filled with sweet pickles, black and green olives, cranberry sauce and spiced peaches were set out on the buffet table.
Deacon and Jake had arranged folding chairs and card tables in the living room, the hallway and the kitchen. Scarlett was following them around, setting out the plates and silverware when she wasn't jamming black olives onto her fingertips and waving them around like finger puppets.
The smell of turkey and gravy, and the pies baking in the oven, was overwhelming. Rayna's stomach growled all through the myriad introductions – to Dillons, Halls, Campbells and an array of other relatives, all eager to shake her hand, tell her how much they liked, "This Love Ain't Big Enough," and ask her what it was like to play at the Grand Ole Opry and live in Nashville.
She and Deacon didn't have a moment alone until they found themselves seated side-by-side at the dining room table – the one reserved for grown ups and special guests. Before they could dig in, Uncle Bud stood up and everyone gathered around him as he asked them all to bow their heads. Rayna reached under the table and took Deacon's hand in hers. He smiled over at her.
"How'd it go with your mother?" she whispered, as Uncle Bud launched into a long, rather formal prayer.
"Good, real good. Did Sallie behave herself? I felt bad, leavin' you with her."
Rayna smiled and leaned over to peck his cheek. "Thanks for worrying about me babe, but I can handle her. You know that."
He nodded. "You sure can. I never doubted that."
"I thought your mama was fantastic."
"She was," he said, sounding awed. "She really was."
The prayer ended and the dishes circulated around the table in dizzying fashion. The lively talk and back-and-forth joshing that accompanied dinner at Linnie Mae's was so different from the staid business and political discussions at Lamar's table, that Rayna scarcely recognized the holiday. And everything tasted so wonderful – especially the turkey - that Rayna went back for seconds, putting away so much food that Deacon marveled at her. "Hell if I can figure out where you're puttin' all that food, darlin'," he said, slipping a hand onto her belly. "I wouldn't think there was any more room left in there."
She laughed and handed him her plate. "Hey, just get me one more little, tiny slice of dark meat, would you? And put a dab of gravy on it."
After dinner, Rayna joined the rest of the women, washing dishes in the kitchen. A new millennium might be around the corner, but equal division of chores was unheard of in this house, Rayna could see. The kitchen was considered women's territory and the men – Deacon included - didn't venture in without risking Sallie's wrath, unless they were called upon to help open a pickle jar or move a heavy pot.
Rayna picked up a dish towel and helped with the drying as Deacon's cousins pelted her, shyly at first and then more boldly, with questions. What was Luke Wheeler really like? How many times had she sung at the Grand Ole Opry? When was the baby due? Would she quit singing after it was born? What names had she and Deacon picked out? Rayna answered as best she could, admitting that they hadn't really talked about things like names, though she'd had a few ideas recently.
"When are you and cousin Deacon gettin' hitched, Rayna?" asked Terri. She was a couple of years younger than Rayna, but she and Deacon's cousin Tom had gotten married right out of high school. They had a daughter toddling around under foot and another baby due a few months after Rayna's.
Rayna cast a wary glance at Sallie, who was at the sink with her back turned, up to her elbows in dish suds. She frowned a bit and attempted an answer. "Well, I guess I can't say right now. We're … we're still …"
Linnie stepped in before the moment got awkward, playfully swatting Terri with a towel and laughing. "Now, don't you put our guest on the spot like that, girl! I'll make sure y'all hear about it when they're fixin' to get married, and not a day sooner."
That seemed to satisfy Terri, who nodded and laughed. "Okay, Aunt Linnie, if you say so."
Rayna shot a grateful look Linnie's way and the older woman smiled at her. "Why don't you put that towel down, Rayna darlin', you've done enough work for today. Go on out and sit on the porch a while, if it's not too cold. You ought to be off your feet in your condition.'"
Rayna set the towel down and thanked her, wandering out into the living room. Deacon and some of his cousins had taken a football outside and they were throwing long passes in the street. Rayna put her coat on and sat on the porch swing, watching them and smiling at Deacon when she caught his eye. "You okay, darlin'?" he called over to her.
"Fine. Your mama gave me some time off for good behavior," she called back, and he smiled.
It had already been a long day, but Rayna soon realized that the festivities were just getting started. Bud and John took down the extra tables and set up the chairs in a circle around the living room as Jake started a fire in the fireplace. There was no announcement, but as if on cue, everyone gathered in the big room. Various family members pulled instruments out of their cars or retrieved them from the corners where they'd been stashed since they'd arrived. Then there was a cacophony of tuning: guitars, banjos, fiddles, mandolins and even an enormous bass that Uncle Bud wheeled in from the bed of his pickup truck.
Rayna took a seat in a back row, her eyes across the room on Deacon, who was teasing a cousin about his mandolin, noting that since he'd graduated from the kids' table, maybe it was time to get himself a "big boy guitar." When the music started, Rayna drew in a sharp breath, nearly overwhelmed by the rich harmonies and the plaintive, raw voices raised in traditional tunes. The words spoke of lost loves, injustice and – always – the pain of being far away from home. She watched as toes tapped and heads nodded in time to the intricate rhythms, marveling at how one or another family member would start by picking a few bars and everyone would recognize the song and join in, as if they had some secret form of communication. No one had printed music in front of them, but they seemed to easily recall dozens and dozens of songs, all of them carrying a high, lonesome sound: "Bowling Green," "On the Banks of the Ohio," "I Am a Pilgrim," and "In the Sweet By and By."
After the first chorus or two, solos would pass around the group counterclockwise, with one family member and then the next taking turns in the spotlight, improvising on the melody as the others kept up on harmony. There was a bit of competition, Rayna could tell, though it was only given away by subtle nods, raised eyebrows and sly smiles. When it was his turn for solos, Deacon would concentrate hard, playing intricate lines that at first seemed to clash with the melody and then weave their way back in and around it in a fashion so polished and satisfying that he would draw admiring smiles every time.
When they got to "Five Hundred Miles," Rayna raised her voice up an octave and sang a beautiful counterpoint line that made all heads swivel her way. She smiled around the circle, love welling up powerfully inside of her as she caught the look in Deacon's eyes. He was fairly beaming over at her. A break for pie and coffee, and then more singing, meant that day had stretched late into the night by the time the instruments were packed up and everyone started to leave.
Rayna said her good nights and exchanged hugs with many new-found kinfolk, promising to let them all know when the baby was born. She thanked Linnie and Sallie for the wonderful food and, a few minutes later, made her way toward the guest room, exhausted but happier than she'd felt in ages. Deacon came up behind her in the hallway. "Did you have a good day?" he asked. She nodded, smiling at him. "Good. I think I'm gonna stay up and help Mama get everythin' put away. You go on to bed though, you're lookin' tired."
"I am. But it was fun," she said, watching as he started to return to the living room. "Hey."
He turned around. "What is it, Ray?"
"Come here," she said, holding a hand out to him. He walked toward her, taking her hand and smiling. Rayna slipped her arms around his neck and leaned into his body, kissing him softly on the mouth.
He looked at her, his hands on her waist, smiling through some confusion. "What'd you do that for, darlin'?"
"I don't know. I just felt like it, I guess. Do I have to have a reason?"
"Not in my book, you don't. You can do that any old time you please, Ray."
"Okay then, maybe I will. Good night, babe."
"Good night, sweetheart."