A/N: I greatly appreciate the reviews! It's encouraging to see what readers like and what excites them. I love to hear your thoughts!
~Deacon~
Deacon finished up the chords he'd been working on and then went to put his guitar back in the case. He paused before closing it as he looked down at the picture of himself and Rayna he had taped to the inside. It had been one night after a set and Rayna had seen the photo booth.
"Let's take our picture!" she'd squealed, pulling at his hand.
He had made a face. "Really? You know those ain't great pictures, Ray." He had tried to resist, but not really hard, letting her pull him to the booth.
She stepped in, tugging at him. "Come on," she'd said, laughing. She had looked so pretty right then, her eyes sparkling, her face a little flushed with excitement, that amazing smile. She was always impossible to resist.
He had laughed too. "Okay," he said, letting her pull him in. Those photo booths were always small and she'd ended up sitting on his lap. She had pressed her face against his and he had pushed the start button.
The booth printed out four pictures and she had snatched them up. "Oh, babe, you have your eyes closed in one, but the rest are great," she said. She showed him the photos. They certainly weren't high quality but, with the exception of the one, they weren't bad. Especially of her.
"Baby, you look beautiful in these," he said.
And she did. She looked happy and in love. She had torn off two of the pictures to give to him and kept the other two, including the one where his eyes were closed. He had put one in his guitar case and the other one in his wallet. Every time he opened his guitar case, he'd felt a pain in his heart. She was laughing, her arm around his neck. Things had seemed so simple then, when they just enjoyed being together and didn't think about the fact that one day he'd be leaving.
He sighed heavily and closed the case. He thought about her every day, every time he wrote a song. She'd been so proud of him, so sure he would be successful. It had been a hard life, since the day they'd all left Natchez so abruptly. He had never really thought in his mind about how long it would take them to make it, but he somehow didn't think they'd still be in the same place. They were still fighting for open mics and paying gigs, making ends meet with jobs that allowed them the flexibility to rehearse and perform. He knew, somehow, that it would have been easier with her by his side.
He had told her he'd come back for her after she graduated. It was mid-June and it weighed heavily on him. But she wasn't there for him to go back to. He'd thought about going anyway, just in case, but Vince had talked him out of it. It nagged at him, though, wondering if he should've taken the chance, but he didn't want to be disappointed again and so he'd convinced himself not to go. They were going to try again that night to get into the open mic at the Bluebird, so he turned his mind to that, picking up his guitar case and heading for the door.
"Oh my God, finally!" Beverly whispered loudly. "That was awesome!" They were out in the parking lot, putting their gear in the back of Deacon's truck. "I hope someone important was in there tonight."
Deacon had to smile. Beverly had been feeling discouraged and this had pumped her up. "Never know," he said. "Ain't it funny how the place never fills up, but there's always a line to get on stage." That was true. Every time they'd tried to get an open mic spot and weren't successful, they would stay for the show, trying to learn from everyone performing. But the place never filled up, even as small as it was.
Beverly shrugged. "As long as some record company bigwig is there, who cares? You hear all the time about people getting discovered here. I think it's like some kind of magnet for those guys." She clapped her hands, then lightly punched Deacon's arm. "Baby brother, I think we did good in there. Your songs were perfect."
They had performed 'Trouble' and a new one he'd written called 'Natchez Trace'. They were both ballad-y types that played well to Beverly's soulful voice. He always felt like his best work were the songs he wrote that Beverly wouldn't sing, the ones he wrote with Rayna on his mind. He was a little worried, too, because most of the other acts were more up tempo, but he had to hope they stood out. They'd gotten a good reception from the crowd, so they were all encouraged.
Vince gestured across the street. "Let's go across the road to that diner, boys and girls," he said. "I don't know about y'all, but I'm starving!"
Beverly laughed. "You're always starving, you big lunkhead." Deacon didn't think he'd seen Beverly in such high spirits in months. It was good to see. Her dark moods had come more frequently and lasted longer in recent months. It had reminded him of their mother and the ups and downs she suffered.
As they headed across the street, he put everything out of his mind except for the high of performing onstage at the Bluebird. It was the mecca for sure and now that they'd broken through, he hoped things were turning around for them. It would almost make everything he'd left behind be worth it.
Deacon was laying on his bed in the dark. He'd drank too much and now his head was spinning. The bed felt like it was moving. His mouth was dry and he kept swallowing, trying to manufacture enough saliva to get rid of the dryness, but he was having a hard time doing that. He knew he was going to feel like shit the next day and he had to be at work at five.
He rolled onto his side and then had to immediately roll back onto his back. The dizziness intensified when he rolled over and he almost puked. He was reminded of why he didn't do this. But Vince kept pouring him shots and he was desperately trying to dull the edges. The friend of the girl Vince was interested in was nice enough, pretty enough, but it had been like every other girl. She wasn't Rayna. He couldn't stop thinking about Rayna.
Deacon breathed out. These things never went well. For one thing, he was not interested in dating. He still felt loyal to Rayna, even though it had been over a year since he'd seen her, as well as the fact that she'd left Natchez. But it felt wrong. He couldn't look at another girl without comparing her to Rayna. And so far, no one had measured up to her. But he'd had nothing better to do when Vince begged him to join them. Sitting in the room, watching TV, was even less fun.
He had walked outside of the dive bar they'd been in and the girl, whose name he couldn't remember, had followed him out. She was a little bit drunk too and had sidled up to him, running her hands up and down his arms. He'd stepped back from her.
She frowned. "Hey, what's the deal with you?" she'd said, her words a little slurred.
He shook his head. "I ain't looking for nothing," he said. "I got a girlfriend. Back home." He wasn't really sure that was true, but he didn't want to be with anyone else.
Her eyes flashed. "What the hell?" she had cried out and then she had punched him in the arm. Hard.
He glared at her and then turned and walked unsteadily towards his truck. She was yelling something after him, but he blocked her out. He knew he wasn't really in good shape to drive, but he had turned up the A/C and driven slow.
He rubbed his face with his hands. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to go back to Natchez, but there was nothing there anymore. He wasn't sure anymore that he wanted to stay in Nashville. He also wasn't sure it wasn't the whiskey talking to him. Maybe he'd feel differently in the morning. Hopefully everything would make more sense in the morning.
~Rayna~
Rayna laid Maddie on the changing table and changed her from her onesie to a little white eyelet sundress Tandy had given her. Maddie was waving her arms and legs and gurgling happily as Rayna got her ready. "Hey, sweet baby girl," Rayna cooed at the little girl and Maddie made a little laughing sound. She'd been such a good baby. Belle had been wonderful, but it really hadn't been hard to get used to all the things it took to raise a baby. Rayna felt like she'd been born to be a mama and, while she hadn't intended to do it as such a young age, she loved taking care of her daughter. She had been grateful to her father for letting them live in his house and she had been surprised at how Lamar doted on his granddaughter. She was still wary of him and his motivations, but she tried to just accept what was on the surface. For now.
Rayna leaned down then and rubbed her nose on Maddie's chest. She smiled. "Would you like to ride in the car with mama?" she asked and Maddie squealed her affirmation, although Rayna knew Maddie had no idea what she'd just said. Rayna picked her up and carried her out to the foyer. Even though Belle had said to move Maddie to her own room, Rayna hadn't done it. She loved having Maddie close by and she often would bring her daughter in bed with her. Maddie looked more and more like Deacon every day, with her dark brown hair and her crystal blue eyes, her long fingers and that little crease between her brows when she got fussy. Rayna felt her chest hurt as she wished Deacon could see his daughter and know her.
She picked up her purse and walked out the door. Lamar had bought her a car when she'd come back to Natchez, a little green Toyota Camry. I guess you'll need something to take little Maddie to the doctor. That was what he'd said when he gave it to her. She wasn't sure that was really the truth. Samuel could have driven her, but she was grateful nonetheless. She liked having a little bit of freedom, although she wished she'd had it back when Deacon was still in town.
Thinking about Deacon made her teary, like it always did. She'd cried herself to sleep every night she'd been in Biloxi, chalking it up to hormones. But she still found herself crying at night and at random other times. She missed him. It was early June and she knew her class had graduated the previous week. This was when Deacon had said he'd come back for her, but she hadn't seen him. She hoped it meant that he and Beverly were performing like they wanted, but she was afraid it was because he thought she deserved better than him.
She put Maddie in her car seat and made sure she was secure. Then she got in the car and drove out to the main road. Deacon had told her once where he lived and she had scoured a map to find the route. It was a beautiful day, not too hot, and she had decided it might be a good day to ride out there and see if maybe he'd gone back there. Or maybe she could ask his parents if they knew where he was. She wasn't sure what would happen, but she felt like she had to try something. She'd written out the directions and laid them on the seat next to her. Periodically she looked down, but it wasn't hard to find. Maddie, thankfully, was entertaining herself with the stuffed pink pony, occasionally making little happy noises. Rayna glanced periodically in the rear view mirror, even though she couldn't see Maddie. She smiled, though, listening to her daughter.
She'd often thought about how she would tell Deacon about Maddie. He would be surprised, she knew. It still felt a little surreal to her to have a four month old daughter, when she'd just turned eighteen. He would be nineteen now. Would he be freaked out? Not interested? Maddie was such a good baby though. She cooed and laughed and smiled and slept through the night. Rayna loved to hold her, breathing in deeply her daughter's sweet baby smell. Her favorite time of the day was feeding Maddie, when she felt that unshakeable bond with her daughter. Even though they lived in her father's house, Rayna felt like she and Maddie were their own little family. She loved her daughter fiercely, more than anyone else except Deacon.
When she reached the dirt and gravel road that led to the Claybourne's house, it seemed very overgrown, which surprised her. She stopped the car and put it in park. She got out and then unfastened Maddie from the car seat, holding her on her hip as she started to walk down the road, glad she was wearing her boots. The farther she walked, the more uneasy she felt. She couldn't explain the feeling, other than it felt like there was some kind of disturbance in the air.
When she rounded a slight curve, she understood her unease. She gasped, her free hand flying to her mouth, and she gripped Maddie a little tighter. The house, or what was left of it, had burned to the ground. There was yellow police tape around it, although it was clear it had been a while since it had been put up. It was broken in a couple places, one of the ends fluttering in the slight breeze.
A chill ran up her back as she stood there. An ominous cloud seemed to hang over the place, as though tragedy had happened there. She knew there had been unhappiness here and anger and violence and fear. She knew somehow that had led to what she saw now. Even Maddie seemed affected, as she started to squirm and fuss, and Rayna put both arms around her daughter. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach and she abruptly turned and stumbled back to her car, holding tightly to Maddie, tears rolling down her cheeks. When she reached the car, she hurriedly fastened a now crying Maddie into her car seat, and then got in the car herself, driving quickly back to the main road.
She drove a little ways and then pulled over onto the shoulder. She breathed in and out, struggling to get herself under control. She turned in her seat and reached for Maddie, running her hand over the little girl's chest until she stopped fussing. She couldn't have said why, but she knew what she'd felt at the Claybourne house had been death. Someone had died there. In her heart, she knew it wasn't Deacon, but someone had. And her next thought was that she wondered if Lamar had known.
Maddie was agitated most of the rest of the afternoon. Nothing Rayna did seemed to soothe her and the baby finally fell into a fitful sleep. Rayna laid down on her bed, wanting to take a nap too, but her mind was racing. She wondered if Deacon knew about the house. Or would he have even cared? She thought back to that last day, before he left. His father had beaten him and Deacon was in bad shape. Maybe he wouldn't care what had happened there. And how much had her father known? Lamar Wyatt knew everything that happened in Natchez, Mississippi. It would be just like him to keep her in the dark.
She reached for one of her pillows and hugged it close. Deacon had been gone over a year. She wished she knew where he'd gone, knew how to even go about finding him. She wanted to tell him about Maddie, but she had no way to locate him. She suspected that her father would have the resources, but she knew he'd never do it. Even for Maddie. Maybe especially for Maddie. She felt her chest tighten and her eyes filled with tears. She felt so alone and lonely. She missed him so much.
She raised up on her elbow and reached over to the bedside table. She opened the drawer and reached in, her fingers landing on the picture she'd kept. They had gotten into one of those photo booths and taken their pictures. He'd kept two and she had two. In one of them, his eyes were closed, so she had thrown that one out and kept the one with his eyes open. She was in his lap, her arm wrapped around his shoulder, and he had a big grin on his face. They had looked happy. She looked at it now and thought about how it seemed so long ago when they'd done that. So long ago when they were carefree and happy. She wondered if he still had his pictures.
She wondered if he ever thought of her.
Dinner was always a formal affair, even though it was just the two of them. They ate in the dining room and were served by the cook. Tandy would be moving in at the end of the summer, to go to work for Wyatt Industries, but she was spending the summer in Georgia with her boyfriend. Lamar usually didn't talk much, spending the time reading reports or the newspaper. Rayna often ate in complete silence, anxious to be finished so she could get back to Maddie. But this night, Lamar seemed in a more companionable mood and, after the soup course, he'd pushed aside his paper and looked at Rayna.
"How was your day?" he asked, pleasantly.
She had her guard up, certain he was not just making small talk. She still hadn't decided exactly how she wanted to ask him about Deacon's house. She gave him a tiny smile. "Good," she said. "I took Maddie for a ride in the car. She loves that."
He smiled. "She does, doesn't she?" He looked at her carefully. "Where did you go?"
She felt a niggle of anxiety. "Nowhere, really," she said. She wondered what he knew. She hadn't noticed anyone following her, but then she hadn't really been paying attention. This was the moment where she could ask him, but she couldn't decide how to broach it. He would be angry she'd gone, angry she was still thinking about Deacon. She couldn't accuse him of anything. Lamar Wyatt wouldn't go around setting fires. He'd be angry if she asked him about it.
"Rayna?" She refocused on him and noticed he had a concerned look on his face. "Did you hear me?"
She realized she had not been paying attention. "I'm sorry, Daddy, what?"
"I was just saying that I ran into the pastor today while I was having lunch at the Magnolia. He mentioned that they're looking for some new choir members." He smiled. "I've heard you sing to Maddie and I think you'd enjoy that."
She breathed in. That had seemed to come out of left field. "Yeah, you're probably right. I should check that out." Just then, the cook brought out the main course and the moment seemed to be lost. As her father turned to his dinner, he went back to reading the paperwork next to his plate and she decided to drop it.
~Deacon~
Later, Deacon would look back on that night and say it had changed his life. But in the moment, it was just an interesting turn of events. Beverly, Doug and Vince were all working and he had no interest in hanging out in a motel room. He'd picked up his guitar and headed out in his truck. It was a Monday night and he took a chance as he drove to the Bluebird. Even if he didn't get on stage, he figured he could watch those who did. But it was a rainy night and a lot of people didn't show and he got on. He'd never considered performing alone, but he wanted to hear his songs out loud and see what kind of reaction they'd get, so he'd gotten past his butterflies and headed up on stage.
The first song he did was the one about fireflies and rusty guitars and going back home, the one he called 'Back Home'. He'd written it about Rayna, for Rayna. It was an emotional song for him, as he thought about her. In his mind, he could still see her smiling at him, her reddish-blonde hair skimming her shoulders, her nose wrinkled up with glee, and her dark blue eyes sparkling. He could still feel her velvety soft skin touching his, taste her lips and her tongue, feel her breath against his cheek.
He almost choked up once or twice, but he got through it, and got enthusiastic applause from the small crowd. The place was tiny – only ninety people or so could get in, he was told – but it was maybe a little more than half full on a rainy night. The same dreariness that had chased away the dreamers had chased away the audience too, it seemed. But he actually felt more at ease with a smaller crowd.
It had felt odd, at first, to play without Beverly and Vince. Before he'd gotten on stage, he'd felt a little bad about doing it without them, but it sure beat sitting in a dingy motel room, watching boring TV. For his second song, he performed one he hadn't done before. He'd just finished it. It was one of those that he hadn't personally lived, but he'd seen others live through. He'd watched what alcohol had done to his parents, knew it had likely contributed to their deaths in the fire. He watched Vince start down a similar path, drinking too much, not knowing how to quit.
The time or two he'd let himself really get drunk had scared him. He knew he liked the taste of whiskey, more than he'd expected to, and figured it had been in his blood. But he kept hearing Jed's taunt in his head – boy, you're gonna be just like me – and that would draw him up short. He was determined to never let that be his fate, never let that be Jed's legacy. But it was thoughts of how drinking could ruin a life, how it never really made the hurt go away, that had driven this song.
The few times he'd let himself go down that path were always after he'd been thinking about Rayna, about how much he missed her. He often wondered what had ever become of her, where she'd gone after she'd left Natchez, what her life was like now. He wondered if she'd gone off to college, like her sister, if she was dating a rich boy, someone more like her. He hoped she was happy, that she was doing something she loved, that she didn't spend too many nights thinking about him. But he hoped when she did, that she remembered the good times and not how it had ended.
He leaned into the microphone then. "This one is called 'Killin' Time'," he said. "Hope you like it."
You were the first thing that I thought of / When I thought I drank you off my mind / When I get lost in the liquor / You're the only one I find / And if I did the things I oughta / You still would not be mine / So I'll keep a tight grip on the bottle / Gettin' loose and killin' time
This killin' time is killin' me / Drinking myself blind thinkin' I won't see / That if I cross that line and they bury me / I just might find I'll be killin' time for eternity
I don't know nothin' 'bout tomorrow / I've been lost in yesterday / I've spent all my life just dying / For a love that passed away / And if there's an end to all my sorrow / And this is the only price I'll pay / I'll be a happy man when I go / And I can't wait another day
This killin' time is killin' me / Drinking myself blind thinkin' I won't see / That if I cross that line and they bury me / I just might find I'll be killin' time for eternity
The applause was again enthusiastic and he smiled. "Thank you," he said. He stood at the microphone for just a moment, drinking it in. Somehow this had felt much more satisfying than the time he and Beverly had stood here. Maybe it was because it was just him, that he was putting himself out there in a way he hadn't before, but it felt good. He noticed the next person anxiously waiting to take his turn and he smiled a little sheepishly and turned to head off the stage. He put his guitar in its case and walked through the room to the bar. He ordered a ginger ale and then stood at the bar listening to the person who'd followed him on stage.
"That was quite a performance," came a quiet male voice from behind him. The rule at the Bluebird was no talking during performances, and he was so quiet, Deacon almost wasn't sure he'd heard it. He turned slightly to see a man standing next to him. Deacon guessed he was maybe in his forties, wearing a suit rather than the jeans and boots most other patrons were wearing. But his tie was pulled down, as though he'd come from work, and he had a warm smile on his face.
"Thanks," he said, finally.
"I can't stay, but I'd really like to talk to you," the man said, sliding a card along the bar towards Deacon. "Call me when you have a minute."
Deacon just nodded and watched as the man walked past him and out the door into the rain. He finally picked up the car and peered at it. Watty White, A&R. Warner Nashville. His phone number was on the card. He swallowed hard. This could be huge.
~Rayna~
Lamar walked up to the hostess stand at the country club dining room. "Hello there, Matilda," he said to the young woman, with a smile, turning on the charm.
Matilda smiled at him. "Good evening, Mr. Wyatt," she said. "How are you?"
"Doing great." He turned towards Tandy and Rayna. "I'm here for dinner with my lovely daughters." Rayna had to force herself not to roll her eyes. She would much rather have stayed home and played with Maddie than dress up to come to the country club. Maddie would be a year old in two weeks and she had started walking already. She hated missing these moments with her daughter, especially to come to the country club.
"I've got a great table for y'all," Matilda said. She pulled out three menus. "Follow me." Lamar did a half bow and swept his arm out for Tandy and Rayna, who followed Matilda. Lamar brought up the rear.
They were seated at a round table and Rayna, by design, was seated across from her father with her back to the rest of the dining room. Lamar liked to be seen and his seat gave him a good view of the other club members who were there for the evening. They opened their menus and looked over the evening's selections.
Rayna held her menu high enough that she couldn't see her father. She hated the country club, felt completely out of place there. She would rather have been in a pair of jeans and an old t-shirt, having dinner with Maddie, than having to dress up on a weeknight. When the waitress came to take their order, she asked for the flounder and iced tea and then handed back the menu.
She had just put the napkin in her lap when her father called out, "Teddy Conrad!" She looked up and over at her sister. Tandy was smiling over Rayna's shoulder.
A very handsome young man, who looked to be only a few years older than Tandy, was reaching for Lamar's hand, as Lamar stood up and took it. Lamar was grinning broadly. "Hello, Mr. Wyatt," the young man said. "Good to see you." He glanced over at Tandy. "Tandy." Tandy nodded, a tiny smile on her face.
Lamar remained standing, but gestured to Rayna. "Teddy, this is my other daughter, Rayna." He smiled at Rayna. "Rayna, Teddy works at my office as a junior executive."
Rayna breathed out and then turned to Teddy, who was smiling at her expectantly. She smiled back. "Hello, Teddy," she said, holding out her hand. "It's nice to meet you." Teddy took her hand briefly.
"You too, Rayna. I've heard your father talk a lot about you."
Rayna looked at Lamar. "Really," she said.
"Teddy, why don't you join us?" Lamar said then.
"Are you sure I'm not intruding?" Teddy asked. Rayna thought he was either very polite or he was just trying to suck up to the boss. Maybe both.
Lamar waved his hand and sat back down in his chair. "Not at all. It's just dinner with my girls."
Rayna gave Tandy with a sharp look but Tandy just smiled and nodded.
Rayna was furious, when they returned to the house. She'd hardly been able to eat, with Teddy sitting right there, and it being so obvious what her father was up to. The table conversation had been pleasant enough, but she'd been so angry, she'd hardly said a word, something her father had taken great pains to lambaste her over on the way home. Then Lamar stood in the driveway, after Samuel had driven off. "She needs a daddy, Rayna," he said, his face dark with anger.
"She has one," she spat back at him.
Lamar glared at her. "He just sowed a seed where he had no business being," he said, his tone ice cold. "She needs a daddy she can count on. Not one who would run out on her."
"That's ridiculous, Daddy. Deacon didn't run out on Maddie."
Lamar raised his eyebrows. "That's right. He ran out on you," he said, pointing his finger at her. "And little Maddie suffers because of it."
She gasped, then rushed up the front steps and ran down the hall to her room. She stood over Maddie's crib, looking down at her sleeping daughter, breathing in and out heavily. Tears filled her eyes, but they were tears of anger. She had known better than to believe Lamar was feeling fatherly when he allowed her to come home. He'd told her as much, right at the beginning, but she had thought she'd seen a softening in him. But she'd been wrong. She heard footsteps behind her.
Tandy ran her hand over Rayna's back. "I thought I'd find you here," she said softly, as she leaned on the crib rail next to Rayna.
Rayna gave her sister a look. "That was totally planned, wasn't it?" she said, more a statement than a question.
Tandy played innocent though. "I don't know what you mean," she said.
Rayna rolled her eyes. "Give me a break, Tandy," she said. "Daddy was trying to act like a matchmaker." She made a noise. "Is he that worried that I will end up alone? He has to try to fix me up with his junior executives?"
Tandy pretended to look shocked. "Is that what you think he was doing?" she asked.
"Please. He wasn't trying to interest Teddy in you. I mean, all that nonsense about 'Rayna is trying to find herself', 'taking some time to figure out her options'. I mean, really. Am I supposed to pretend I'm not a mama? I'm eighteen years old and I have a one year old. I'm not trying to 'find myself'. I'm Maddie's mama and I'm…." Her voice trailed off.
Tandy looked at her. "You're not Deacon's girlfriend." She looked sympathetically at her sister. "It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if you went out with Teddy. He's a really nice man and he would probably treat you like a princess." She held up her hand, as Rayna started to interrupt. "Daddy's just trying to think about your future. Maybe he's being heavy-handed about it, but you said it. You're almost nineteen and a single mom. Sweetie, you can't wait for Deacon the rest of your life."
Rayna didn't try to stop the tears that rolled down her cheeks. "I don't want to date anyone else, Tandy," she said. "Maybe he's not coming back, but I'm not ready to believe that yet."
Tandy bit her lip, then spoke softly and with compassion. "Then where is he, sweetheart? And when will you stop waiting?"
Rayna lowered her head. "I don't know," she whispered.
The song "Killin' Time" is by Clint Black.