CHAPTER 3
(and probably the end of this little sorta-kinda series)
The cabin is quiet now, a miracle in and of itself. For the last two months, there has been constant hammering and drilling mixed with booming voices yelling about paint cans and sanding tools. But now, I can hear the birds in the trees and the water babbling over the rocks. I sit down on the porch steps, breathing in the scent of pine trees and the faint fragrance of jasmine. I've always loved how this place made me feel: at peace, relaxed, in love.
I look back at the house, admiring the freshly painted shutters which are now a deep green hue framing the new weather proof windows. The addition to the cabin has come in right under budget but it has taken three months longer than originally scheduled. Of course, it took us almost nine months to decide exactly what we wanted to do. That poor architect drew up at least half a dozen different plans to our exact specifications just to have us change them again.
As it was, the cabin was a one and a half bathroom, two bedroom escape. It is now a four bedroom, two and half bath home with a small music studio. The renovations had cost a fortune between upgrades, permits, flood insurance, and a million little setbacks and unexpected problems. Deacon went ahead and sold his house about six months ago and even with everything we've done to the cabin, he still made a decent profit.
But it all seems all worth it now.
The old wooden planks from the porch are gone now. They've been replaced by brighter, sturdier wood that wraps around the sides of the house. It's become my perfect southern porch. On the eastern side of the house is our screened in porch. While it's a small area, we've been able to fit a small outdoor couch and matching chairs. Last week, the electrician came out and installed the ceiling fans and lighting. Since then the four of us have gravitated to this space after dinner.
The western side of the porch is still bare save for the large porch swing hanging from the rafters. I had custom made pillows and cushions made by the sweet old lady at the sewing shop in town. They are blue and green with our initials engraved on them. Maddie called it sappy but I can't help it. I've wanted to be Mrs. Clayborne for decades. I'm not going to apologize for getting excited over finally being his wife.
Almost two years, Deacon gave my ring back and swore he could be a father and husband. It took me almost another year before I actually got that ring back. Then in February, the day after his birthday, I finally put a ring on him. I smile as I hold up my ring finger. Every time I think about being Mrs. Deacon Clayborne I get tingly all over. Maybe I'm still in the honeymoon stage but I get so giddy every time I think about being his wife.
The night Deacon came over to my house, he said he knew how to love me now. I didn't really know what he meant. But now, this cabin is proof of every promise he made that night.
Our home.
Even with the renovations, we can't live here full time. The girls' school and sports activities make that impossible. But with the summer here, we'll be able to live up here almost full time. The girls have fallen in love with the cabin now too. The four of us have a home now, just like the way I envisioned it twenty years ago. Okay I didn't foresee the ex-husband and jilted ex-fiancée in the picture, but the rest is about the same.
Most mornings we wake up and make breakfast together, like some family in a department store catalogue. Then we all split up. Maddie prefers writing and playing her guitars on the porch in the morning. Deacon likes to go fishing or hunting then. I stay inside and check emails, call Bucky, and do other work for Highway 65. Daphne just goes with whichever person tickles her fancy for that day. Then for the afternoon, we typically do something outside. Some days we go kayaking or canoeing, other times we go walking on one of the hiking trails. Today though, Maddie and Daphne decided they wanted to go ride their bikes down to the diner to get some ice cream.
Deacon and I decided to stay back and hang around the house. I needed to work on some contract stuff with Highway 65 and Deacon wanted to work on some new material. I look at the clock and realize the girls should be back anytime now.
Deacon's boots walk over the new wood a moment before I feel his breath on my neck and his hands around my waist.
"Hey babe," I smile as my hands find their way atop Deacon's. I relax into his embrace and he seems just as content to enjoy the quiet as I am. The sun sinks lower in the western sky, bouncing bright beams of light off the water. He asks me a few questions about Sadie's concerts and I give him an update on Juliette's new album. Then the quiet takes over relax further into his embrace.
We both smile as we hear squealing, laughing, happy voices coming over the meadow. As the laughing gets louder, Deacon and I turn and watch as Maddie and Daphne riding their bikes up the driveway.
I glance over at Deacon. Despite the lines on his face, he's still the most the attractive man I've ever seen. I watch him watch the girls and can't help but smile myself. This last year, he's become even more attractive to me. Where before his blue eyes held worry and fear, now they hold a peace. The lines on his face stretch upwards now, even in his sleep. He always seems to be smiling, always laughing.
Soon both girls are telling the same story, over each other. Apparently, they found a snake on the way home. Maddie insists the snake was green and 2 feet long, Daphne says it was yellow and black and at least as long as the car. For some reason the climbed a tree to get away from the snake. Then somehow they found a birds nest but not in the same tree that they climbed.
Seeing the dirt on Daphne's feet and in her hair, I send my youngest child up to take a shower before dinner. Maddie, Deacon and I decide on twice baked potatoes for dinner. The last few nights we've grilled out with meat so this is a good change of pace. I turn on a pot of water to steam some broccoli while Deacon and Maddie busy themselves with the spuds.
I mention to Deacon that we are going to have to go in to town soon. Town is a very loose word for Dalton. There's two gas stations, a grocery store, a Laundromat, and a mom-and-pop pizza joint. A half mile out of town is a large fruit and vegetable stand by the side of the road. We've been getting our produce from the stand and buying everything else from the IGA. I find it amusing that the girls look forward to shucking corn and peeling carrots at the cabin when at home they complain when I ask them to get the forks out.
Conversation comes and goes as we taste the ingredients, while we mix and pour. Daphne emerges from the stairs with wet hair and a summer dress. Daphne asks if they can have ice cream after dinner.
"Not tonight, you just had some this afternoon," says Deacon before I can answer. He sounds so fatherly right now, I can't help but grin despite Daphne's deep frown. After a moment, Daphne shrugs and climbs up on the counter to get the dishes out. Ten minutes later, the food is on the table and everyone begins to eat, as if they didn't have a care in the world.
Being out here does something to everyone's attitudes. It makes us all happier and relaxed. When dinner is served later than usual or the power goes off for a few hours, we all tend to just roll with it. Between my diva-ness, Daphne's smart mouth, Maddie's teenager behavior, and Deacon's moodiness, it's practically a miracle how well we all get along up here.
I think it's the fresh air but Deacon is convinced that we are all happy because this was how we are supposed to be: together, a family.
It does make me sad to think that the week after next is Teddy's time with the girls. They will have fun I'm sure. After all, Teddy is planning on taking them to Texas for a few days while he is doing some mayoral conference. Neither of the girls are thrilled about it but we've tried to make it sound exciting.
After dinner, Daphne performs several songs on the keyboard we got her. She, like her mama, is so much better with the ivories than the strings. Then Daphne grabs a picture off the bookshelf and asks us about it. It is one of me and Deacon from a St. Patrick's Day party around 1990. It was the first gig that Deacon and I ever played together, as a duet. Deacon talks about the bar in Memphis, packed with drunk college kids. I add that the two of us had been dating about five months at that point and I was completely crazy about Deacon.
He nods with a smirk, "She was nuts about me. All the girls back then were." I playfully hit him on the shoulder and laugh about the car broke down on the way home. The cost of the repairs to that beat up Chevy cost nearly as much as we made to play there.
It's surprising how many things Deacon and I have kept hidden that we openly share with the girls. They've seen the pear tree with our initials on it and heard a rather mild version of the day we carved them. Maddie and Daphne have seen the pictures of us as teenagers that have been in stored in the spare bedroom for years. Stories of Bluebird performances and writing sessions are regular dinner conversation now. Those have always been our stories: mine and Deacon's. Now they are the history of the four of us. I can almost imagine our grandchildren rolling their eyes as they hear these stories for the umpteenth time.
I overhear Deacon telling Maddie about the night we won our first Grammy. I thought winning a Grammy would be the happiest moment of my life but honestly watching Deacon win his was the thing that I loved the most. I'd spoke into the microphone first. I announced to everyone that this was a dream come true. Then I went through the thank yous: to Tandy and Watty, my manager Bucky. Then I went on for a few sentences about Bill Harrison, Marty Bowler, and J.H. Deerson, the president, vice president and publisher for the little record company called Edgehill. Then, lastly I turned to Deacon and said that most of the success was thanks to "songwriting partner, my best friend, and the man I love."
Deacon's speech had been shorter. He smiled into the microphone and held up the small trophy. Quickly he said he loved to make a speech but he was ready to start celebrating with his co-writer. The entire audience laughed. I blushed but laughed too.
Of course, after the back room interviews, we did celebrate. That limo ride through the streets of Los Angeles had been magical. We'd been drunk on expensive champagne, the high of our first win, and each other. We went out to a couple of bars, screaming and celebrating with all our new friends. We spent those early morning hours laughing and kissing and dancing our way through the early morning hours. By the time we got back to the hotel, we had a dozen bouquets of flowers and nearly thirty congratulatory phone calls and messages.
I float back to the present, listening as Deacon finishes his story. Maddie smiles with delight. It seems so simple now: guitars and fresh fruit, the cabin and each other. I feel myself getting teary-eyed. I can't help it. I fall asleep beside a sober, content Deacon. My girls are happy and healthy. Maddie and Deacon have forgiven me for all the years I kept the truth for them. In a year and half, they have managed to forge a bond that most fathers and daughters don't have after a lifetime. They are so alike in some ways but when they are together, they both seem brighter somehow.
Maddie excuses herself, claiming she's tired. There is now way Maddie is going to bed. I know full well that Maddie is headed straight to Daphne's room to finish the song they've been working on. Truth is, I don't mind if they stay up all night. We've got nowhere to be tomorrow.
As Deacon begins to rub my shoulders and massages my neck, I let out a light moan. He takes my hand and leads me into the bedroom. Quietly, he closes the door behind me. Only in the last few months has the mandatory 'shower for sex' or 'quickies in the car' faze faded out. Now he seems okay to actually m
His fingers continue their ministrations on my neck as he pushes and messages deeper into my neck. I take another deep breath. He lifts my shirt over my head, directing me to lift my arms above my head.
One of the smartest things we did was put Daphne and Maddie's rooms at the other end of the house. We can't hear their loud giggling and squealing in the middle of the night. Luckily, the girls can't hear ours either.
Our bedroom is still the same as it has been for years. Same bed frame, new mattresses, same gorgeous view of the river. We were able to expand the master bathroom, nearly doubling its size. Now we a double head shower, complete with a very convenient wooden bench along the back wall. I got my porcelain tub, perfect for two. We also made the closet bigger, which already seems too small again.
Aloud, I tell Deacon 'thank you'. He doesn't ask what for. Instead, his hands move lower and deeper into my back. His teeth nibble on my ear, his breath hot against me. He asks how I'd feel about the full body treatment. I practically purr against him before I slide down the bed.
When Deacon promised that he knew how to love me now, I didn't know what that meant. It was a sweet vow but one I thought was said more out of desperation than truth. But now, months later he has made his words clear. This house, these weekends away, the memories we are creating here show me exactly what he meant.
Deacon's always been romantic. The song lyrics he would write, the way he would look at me on stage, those things were always better than flowers. But now I get the lyrics and the looks in additions to roses because it's Tuesday. He folds the laundry without me asking and surprises me with words and poems on my pillow just because. Deacon drives Daphne to dance practice and spends hours helping Maddie with her guitar lessons. He goes grocery shopping with me, he says its cause he would miss me too much if he stayed at home.
Every once in a while, he insists on going to an expensive restaurant. He gets dressed up in a suit and tie, never complains, and takes me out to eat food that he thinks is overpriced. Yet, he does it with a smile on his face. He says it's because that is what married folk do.
Of course, I go every third Thursday to the Bluebird now. When Deacon goes fishing during the warm months, I come along. Typically, I bring a blanket, a book, and tanning lotion. But, I'm close by him because the truth is, I'd miss him too much too. Deacon has his own space at the office and helps produce most of the albums that Highway 65 releases. But we ride into the office together. We eat lunch together every day. When he needs to stay late to work on a track, I sit on the couch behind him.
We are a team now and I can't get enough of him.
Deacon's hands play with the muscles of my back, kneading and stretching. I moan that I love his hands. I've always loved his hands. I close my eyes content to let him do as he will. He leaves feather kisses down my back, going up and down, side to side. He leaves me for a second and comes back. The air smells thick with coconut. I hear his hands lathering up the lotion, getting it warm for me. A moment later, the thick, warm lotion is on my back. I sigh and feel myself becoming more relaxed.
His finger gently travels along the line of my underwear. He urges me to "lift up." Slowly, I lift up my hips and feel Deacon quickly move the lacey garment down my legs. I settle back down on the bed, letting the back of my legs slide over the cool sheets. His hands travel slowly: deeply uncoiling the tight muscles on my upper back. Then, his hands move lower, working the lotion in slowly. His fingers touch my ass and suddenly relaxing turns into a longing. I try to roll over but instead his hands press firmly against my back. He tells me he isn't done yet.
Deacon can take all night if he wants to. Just like with the girls, I don't have anywhere else to be either.
Soon his hands are replaced with lips and I moan out loud. Soft lips touch hot skin as he keeps me on my stomach. I squirm against the sheets. Then his fingers are inside of me, teasing me. When I try to buck against him, his fingers stop their movements. My head is against the mattress and I moan in frustration. This is Deacon's new favorite game, making me beg. This is the best kind of game, the kind that we both end up winning at.
I feel Deacon's smile in the tips of his fingers as he runs his hands up and down my back. I whimper his name but he pretends not to hear me. He grabs one of the pillows and gently places them under my hips. Again, his fingers tease me from behind, stroking and swirling. I moan his name again and beg him to quit teasing me. His hands leave me for a moment. The bed dip and out of the corner of my eye see his boxers hit the floor. Then he's back, on top of me, behind me. His left hand catches mine and I can't help but notice our wedding rings, intertwined. If I wasn't so damn turned on, I think I could cry at the image.
He enters me slowly, making me pant in anticipation and ecstasy. It drives me crazy that I can't see him but at the same time is such a damn turn on.
Deacon goes slowly, thrusting in and out while he licks and kisses my back. He groans my name as one hand reaches between my legs to stroke me as he thrust in me from behind. Soon, I'm lost in the motion of his hips. My stomach clinches in the unmistakable sign that my orgasm is coming. A few strokes later, I clinch hard around him as my fingernails bite into the mattress. He slows down a little, letting me ride out my pleasure. Once my breathing slows a little, Deacon grabs my ass and starts thrusting harder. I push back against him, knowing just what he likes. He groans my name a little too loudly and I feel him pulsing inside of me.
Deacon pulls out of me and I roll over content just to stare at the ceiling for a minute. Deacon's head lands beside mine on the pillow for a minute. He whispers that we are going to have start having sex in the shower again, or the car. We are getting too loud again.
"You were the loud one this time," I playfully remind him.
We share a long kiss before he mentions that the stars are supposed to be really bright tonight. I smile into another kiss. I suggest a date on the porch swing as we both get off the bed. I grab his discarded shirt and boxers while he throws on sweatpants and a wife-beater. Deacon gets a piece of cobbler from the fridge and I pour a glass of milk. We venture out on the porch and relax against the pillows with our initials on them.
Somewhere between fighting over the peach dessert, sharing milk, and staring at the stars, I tell Deacon how smart he was for thinking of the renovations and for buying the cabin in the first place. He just laughs into the night and says the only smart thing he ever did was go talk to the pretty redhead that wondered into the Bluebird.
His eyes meet mine and I whisper that he makes me so happy. Before he can respond we hear the door open. The girls come rushing out in their pajamas, Maddie with her guitar in hand. They have apparently just finished their song. The play it through twice before Deacon and I start applauding. They are so talented it takes my breath away.
Maddie thinks the bridge needs work, while Daphne asks if she can have some ice cream now. As the girls and Deacon head inside, my eyes look out of the water and the sky, lit up with stars. I don't know what in the world I've ever done to be this happy or lucky but I promise myself no matter what I have to do, I'll hold on this feeling for the rest of my life.