A/N: This is Rayna's story, but I've added Tandy's perspective here, because it provides a lot of context for what happens later in Rayna's life.
1986
Rayna was sitting on the back steps with her notebook. She heard footsteps behind her and, closing her notebook, she looked back over her shoulder. "Hey, Cole," she said with a smile. Cole was the son of their longtime housekeeper Vernice and had practically grown up with her and Tandy.
Cole smiled broadly and came to sit next to her. "Hey, Rayna," he said. "What you doing?"
She shrugged. "Just some writing," she said.
"You sounded great at the choir recital the other night," he said. "Too bad your daddy wasn't there."
She made a face. "Daddy's never there," she said.
"Well, he missed out. You were amazing." He looked around, then leaned in and lowered his voice. "You still thinking about doing those open mics?" he asked.
She smiled. "Yes. Tandy said she'd take me. There's actually one at this place way out on River Road, called the V Tavern. They do an open mic on Mondays, just like the Bluebird does. But I can sing anything I want there."
He frowned. "You can't at the Bluebird?"
She shook her head. "You have to write your own music to sing at the Bluebird." She patted her notebook. "I'm working on that, but songwriting is hard." She sighed. "I'm wondering if I'll ever come up with something."
He smiled. "You will. You're always writing poems."
She leaned over, wrapping her arms around her legs. "They're so childish," she said, with a frown. "I need to polish them up. Or find someone to help me." She sighed. "Just like I need a guitar player, since I'm so awful." She looked over at him. "I need to come up with a look."
"A look?" He looked confused.
"You know. Do I wear a skirt or jeans? Boots or not?" She ran one hand through her hair. "Curls or straightened? It's a big deal."
He laughed and shrugged. "I guess." He looked out over the lawn, then back at her. "Tandy taking you?"
She nodded. "Yeah. She took me to that place in Gallatin a couple weeks ago." She wrinkled her nose. "Broken Spoke, I think. So now I have one under my belt. I hope there's more people at the V Tavern though."
"What are you singing?"
"Rose Colored Glasses for sure. I don't care if they think it's too old. It's my favorite. And Have Mercy. They liked that one at the last place, 'cause it's the Judds." She rolled her eyes. Having to please a crowd was hard too.
He looked concerned. "Does your daddy know you're doing this?"
She sat up straight and frowned. "No!" she cried. "And you better not tell him, Coleman Carlisle."
He sat back in surprise. "No, of course I wouldn't tell him. Just be careful, Rayna. You know it doesn't take much to set him off. Plus he always seems to know things, even when you'd think he wouldn't."
She breathed out. "I know. And I only go when he's out of town." She sighed. "I wish he understood how important this is to me."
"You still think you can make a living doing this?"
She smiled to herself. "I want to." She turned to look at him. "My dream is to stand on the stage at the Grand Ole Opry and get invited to be a member. You have to be something really special to get invited, you know. Songs on the radio, touring, be someone people like." She wrinkled her nose. "I don't care about making a lot of money, I just want to be on stage and sing and make people happy."
He smiled back at her. "I bet you'll do all of that one day, Rayna. You'll be a star as soon as you hit the stage."
She laughed. "You don't know anything about country music, Cole. It's hard work to get to be a star. A lot of honky tonks and going anywhere they'll pay you. Rodeos and county fairs and festivals." She tipped her head back and closed her eyes. "One day I want to have my own booth at Fan Fare and I'll sign autographs and take pictures as long as people will stand there." She looked back at him. "I'll be the nicest performer there is, I can promise you that. I think that's what's so great about country music. Everyone is so nice. But I'll be the nicest."
He nodded his head vigorously. "I do believe you will be, Rayna Wyatt. The very nicest of all."
When Tandy and Rayna ran down the front steps to the driveway, Rayna frowned. "You have to put the top up, Tandy," she said, when she saw her sister's convertible.
Tandy turned and pouted. "But it's such a nice night. You sure?" she asked.
"My hair. I don't want my hair to get all windblown. I worked hard to get it to do this." Rayna ran one hand over her hair. She'd spent half an hour with a round brush and a hairdryer smoothing her hair into a pert bob. Her hair was naturally wavy and she knew the wind from riding in an open car would undo everything she'd just done.
Tandy shrugged. "Well, I for one think your hair looks adorable when you let it go natural, but if this is what you want, okay. But I'm going to insist we put the top down on the way home."
Rayna smiled and put her guitar in the back seat. "Thank you!" she cried, jumping into the front seat. Tandy sighed and then got in on the driver's side, putting the top up before she tore down the driveway.
Since it was the first of the week, Rayna had not expected much of a crowd, but apparently out in Cheatham County there wasn't much else to do but go hang out in bars, so the place was mostly full, even considering it was an open mic night. There were nine other performers there that night and she was right in the middle of the pack. She and Tandy sat at one of the tables near the side of the stage and had hamburgers while they watched the other performers.
As they listened to a rough looking blonde, Tandy leaned over and whispered to Rayna, "Not only are you a much better singer than she is, but you're much prettier."
Rayna blushed. "You think so?"
Tandy nodded. "I know so."
Rayna ran her tongue over her teeth, feeling for any bits of food that might have gotten stuck. She leaned over to her sister. "Do I have any food in my teeth?" she asked, pulling back her lips so Tandy could look at her teeth.
Tandy shook her head and smiled. "Perfect."
When it was finally her turn, Rayna felt the butterflies in her stomach she always felt when she sang in front of a crowd. She wondered if that would ever go away. She took her guitar and walked up onto the tiny stage. As she opened the case and took out her guitar, she was glad she'd decided on wearing a skirt. All the other female performers were wearing jeans and she thought she might catch more attention since she had dressed differently. She had put on and taken off four different outfits before deciding on the denim skirt and pink gingham check blouse and her red boots. Tandy had given her the boots for Christmas, something that had made Lamar's lip curl, which just added to the appeal.
She turned and walked up to the mic and smiled at the crowd. "Hey, y'all, my name is Rayna…Jaymes." She still stumbled over that, even after saying in front of her mirror over and over. It had been Tandy's idea, not using the name Wyatt. People know who Daddy is and you just never know what might get around. Tandy was right. Lamar had no idea she was doing this and she knew he'd be furious if he did. Even though their mom's family had been an old money family in Nashville, the name wasn't as widely known. She glanced at Tandy, who was smiling and clapping proudly. She got a good reception from the crowd in the room, even hearing a few catcalls, which made her nervous. She leaned into the mic. "I'm gonna sing 'Rose Colored Glasses'."
Well, I went up to the bank with my little check book / The cashier he gave me the strangest look / He said you ain't got no money 'cause you're overdrawn / Your man took it all and he's done gone
Have mercy on me / You treat me so bad I'm in misery / It's breaking my heart, can't you see / Baby, baby, have mercy on me
Have mercy on me / You treat me so bad I'm in misery / It's breaking my heart, can't you see / Baby, baby, have mercy on me
Have mercy
When she finished, she got a rousing round of applause, with some cheering as well. She smiled at the crowd and waved, feeling something wash over her that made her feel like she had just found her true calling. This is what it's about. Standing in front of people, singing songs you love, letting them see that. This is what I'm meant to do. She knew it as much as she'd ever known anything in her life. She had been nervous when she started, but the reaction from the crowd had energized her, made her feel like she owned the place.
She finally stepped back from the mic so the next performer could get set up and practically ran down the two steps. She realized when she did that she'd forgotten her guitar case, so she hurried back and laid her guitar in it, shutting it, and then hurrying back to the table where Tandy was sitting.
"Oh, sweetie, you were amazing!" Tandy gushed, grabbing her hands. "They loved you!"
Rayna was practically breathless and put one hand over her heart. "Oh my God, Tandy, that felt so awesome. The other place wasn't like this but this was just unbelievable." She grinned from ear to ear. "This is what I want to do. Be on a stage and sing. No matter how long it takes or what I need to do, I need to be doing this for the rest of my life."
Tandy made a face. "Well, I don't think Daddy will love that," she said.
Rayna frowned. "He's not going to be able to do anything about it," she said defiantly. "It's my life and I'll do what I want."
Tandy leaned over then and patted her hand. "Let's get out of here, Rayna. I need to get you home."
When Tandy got back to her apartment, she was still worried about her sister. Rayna was definitely headstrong. When she set her mind to something, she was single-minded about it, a lot like their father. She'd always known that about Rayna, how much she was like Lamar Wyatt. It was something Rayna didn't like to acknowledge, but it was true. She was actually the perfect mix of their parents – pragmatic like Lamar yet wearing her heart on her sleeve like Virginia. She felt like it was her job to watch over her sister, to make sure she was okay, make sure their father didn't find out what Rayna was doing when he was away.
If Rayna pushed, she was afraid of what their father might do. He'd withdrawn, in many ways, from them, into his work. He'd always been an intimidating man, but these days he could almost be frightening. He had mostly wiped away all traces of Virginia from their lives, shut down any conversation about her. In the beginning, she'd thought it was grief, but soon enough she'd found out it was anything but.
Tandy fixed herself a cup of tea and then sat down in her living room. She pulled the box she'd gotten from her closet closer to her and took the top off. She sat for a moment, just looking down into it. It was mostly letters and bound journals, but a few other mementos as well. She'd found the box one rainy afternoon when she'd been in the house by herself. It was maybe a year after their mother died and she had ventured into her mother's closet. Lamar had shut the closet and locked it, after the funeral, but it was an old house with easily picked locks, so Tandy had gotten in easily.
Most of the time she'd just touched her mother's clothes, fingering the pretty dresses, and trying on her shoes. Virginia Jaymes had been a celebrated debutante as a young woman and all her beautiful party dresses were still in the closet. Tandy knew that it was at a post-debutante party where her parents had met. Lamar had swept her off her feet, according to newspaper accounts of their courtship that were included in the engagement announcement. But then she'd found that box tucked away, as though Virginia had hidden it there. There were several photo albums and a scrapbook, filled with pictures of a young Virginia. In her engagement photo, she'd looked happy, and that had made Tandy wonder when that had changed.
She wondered if her father had known about the non-descript box that had been hidden back behind a shoe rack. Not much missed Lamar Wyatt's eye, so she suspected he'd always known the secrets the box contained, if not the actual existence of it.
What had fascinated – and horrified – her the most had been the letters and journals. And the music. The journals started when Rayna was a toddler and detailed the secret life Virginia led, in honky tonks on Broadway and back rooms where a lot of the music of the day was written. She'd been lonely, since her husband had been married to his work even then, but she'd also been bored and unhappy. The life of the wife to an important man was unfulfilling and stifling, something that surprised her when she read it. She had felt sadness for her mom, though, trapped in a life she could no longer bear but not knowing how to break free of.
But then came the first mention of a man, a musician and a songwriter, a man who spoke to her creative heart at first and then to her real heart in short order. A man named Watty. The man who wrote the letters Virginia had saved. Letters filled with words of love and adoration, song lyrics written especially for her, and mentions of the secret, and intimate, life they'd shared for so long, up until she died.
She pulled out one of the journals, opening it indiscriminately, reading again a passage she'd already read what felt like a hundred times. I wish I had the courage to leave. Watty feeds my soul, in a way Lamar never could. But when I think of leaving, I hesitate, and I don't know why. Maybe the scale hasn't tipped enough yet. I need Watty though, like my lungs need air, like my veins need blood. I feel alive with him, in a way I've never felt before. When he touches my skin, presses his lips to mine, takes me in his arms, and makes the sweetest love to me, I am lost.
Tandy closed the journal and closed her eyes. Reading her mother's most secret thoughts had been a revelation. It had made her feel like she'd never known her mother, really. It had left her feeling a little unmoored, in the beginning. She had started to make her peace with it, but it helped her to understand a little more how her father felt about country music and, by extension, Rayna's obsession with it. This Watty person was a country songwriter and musician and had, if not stolen Virginia from him, taken a part of her away. It made her both sad for her father and curious what had prompted her mother to stray. Questions she'd never have the answers to, she knew.
She had promised herself she would never tell Rayna about this. Her sister still worshipped their mother and she would never tell her anything that might tarnish her memories. She sensed that Rayna needed to keep seeing Virginia the way she had as a young girl, at least for as long as she could.
Rayna was sitting outside on the patio with her guitar and her notebook, trying to come up with her own original song. She knew that eventually she would need to have her own music or even work with someone to create her own music. She couldn't sing old songs forever and she really wanted something that felt a little more like it fit her. She'd spent weeks on it, writing and rewriting, over and over, and had only, finally, come up with one verse. She was trying out a melody she heard in her head as she read the words, but she was frustrated at how difficult the process seemed to be. She really wished she had someone who could help her, guide her, teach her how to do this.
Aren't we all the same? / Hearts with different names / All looking for a place / We can be who we are, and know who we are
Don't we all deserve / A moment to be heard? / Don't we all have words / That show who we are / 'Cause we know who we are
She stopped, looking down at her notebook again.
"What is that nonsense, Rayna?" came her father's voice from behind her, sounding stern.
She turned around, startled, because he wasn't due home until the next day. She took a deep breath. "It's a song I'm working on, Daddy," she said.
He frowned. "I thought I told you that kind of music was off-limits," he said, getting a little louder.
She felt nervous, but she wasn't going to show him that she was scared. She sat up straight. "It's the kind of music I like, Daddy," she said, with a confidence she didn't completely feel. "I'm trying to write my own songs."
He shook his head. "This is just foolishness, young lady," he said angrily. "Not only is that kind of music not welcome in this house, but this whole ridiculous idea you have of singing on stage is just not the kind of thing a Wyatt would do."
She frowned. "That's not true, Daddy. Mom loved country music and I would sing with her all the time."
He took a step towards her and she winced. "She only did that when I wasn't here," he practically shouted. "And she knew how I felt about it. I'm telling you, Rayna, do not cross me on this. You will not pursue this. You'll finish high school, go to college, and get a decent job."
She stood up then, angry herself. "What if that isn't what I want?" she cried. "I want to follow my dream, Daddy, not work in some stupid office all day. I'd be bored! And unfulfilled."
He laughed then, an unkind sound. "What in the world could you possibly know about being fulfilled, Rayna? You're fifteen years old. You have no idea what lies ahead for you and you'll change your mind a hundred times, in any case." He shook a finger towards her. "As long as you live in my house, you will follow my rules, young lady. Do you understand me?" She said nothing, just stood and stared at him defiantly. He took another step closer and, although she was shaking inside, she stood firm. "Do you understand me?"
She drew herself up. "I understand you, but that doesn't mean I'll follow your rules," she said.
He gave her a chilly smile that didn't meet his eyes. "Then you will find out the price you pay for defying me, young lady. Mark my words, you'll live to regret the day you go against me." He turned and walked back into the house.
She felt herself shaking and frowned. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. I don't care what he says. I'm following my dream, no matter what.