July 27th, 1990
Dear Dairy,
It's been a very rough couple months with Deacon, but I think we're finally on the right track to helping him get and stay sober.
His temper and moodiness has tested my patience more than I care to admit over the past couple months as he's struggled to stay sober when I know all he wanted was a drink, but he's trying for me, and I'm so proud of him for that.
I'm angry about the past few days. He slipped and got drunk two nights in a row, but I know he's not perfect and he's going to make mistakes. He brought up rehab all on his own today. I figured I'd have to and it would be a huge fight, but he seems to be OK with the possibility of going in the near future.
I'm not sure how exactly that's going to play out with this Vince Gill tour, but I'm hoping it will all work out. Deacon's health is more important, but hopefully Watty can find a workable solution with an outpatient program until after this short tour.
This big break is all I've ever wanted, and Deacon is so much a part of everything now. He's become my family, my life, my greatest love.
I feel absolutely horrible about Deacon's foot. I was angry when I found him hungover in the truck after a night of drinking. I slammed the door and left the broken bottles on the ground. Now he has 14 stitches in his left foot and his favorite boots are ruined.
He's peacefully sleeping next to me. As mad as I've been, it hasn't erased the love and attraction I feel for him. He's the love of my life, and accepting him flaws and all is a challenge I'm willing to take on. He's worth fighting for, and as crazy as he makes me I can't imagine ever letting him go.
For now all I want to do is snuggle in close and keep him all to myself for tonight. I've missed him so much the past couple of nights. I pushed him away out of anger, but it hurts me so much to push him away. Maybe punishing him by withholding affection isn't the answer.
New approach and challenge for tomorrow…love him more, even when he's not so loveable. That seems to be when he needs me most, even if he can't say it.
A couple days earlier…
"C'mon, Deke! Rayna won't be home for hours. Let's just go out for a while?" Vince begged after a couple months of dinners in, movies at home, and no alcohol or drugs allowed in the apartment as Deacon tried to keep his promise to Rayna.
"I can't man. I promised her I'd do this. Plus, we gotta leave tomorrow for Indiana. Watty got us a spot openin for Vince Gill at the state fair. Rayna will kill me if I'm not good to go for it. It was a freak chance. I guess his usual openin act had a family emergency."
"She'll never know! It's barely 9. You don't gotta pick her up till 2am. A pizza and a couple drinks. No harm in that!" Vince tried to reason
"We got frozen pizza here!" Deacon snapped, getting irritated. He was struggling to stay sober. His nightmares were becoming worse without sleeping pills. He was irritable, and argumentative as he struggled with sobriety.
"We don't got beer!" Vince sniped back
"I know damn well you got beer hidden in your room! Go get it! I'll put a damn pizza in the oven!" Deacon snapped as he went to the freezer
"What's wrong?" Vince asked as he came back to the kitchen with a cooler he'd kept hidden in his closet
Deacon was cussing as he fumbled with the oven knobs
"I dunno, goddamn thing isn't heatin up!" he snapped, throwing the pizza and pan against the back of the oven with a clatter of metal on metal
"You really need a beer, Deke! You've been an asshole tryin to stay sober!" Vince said handing him a cold bottle from the cooler
"NOT A DAMN WORD TO RAYNA BOUT THIS!" Deacon snapped as he downed the first bottle and reached for a second
"Soooo…I'm still hungry, and the oven's not workin! How about that pizza out now?" Vince asked after Deacon's 3rd beer
"Fine, get in the fuckin truck. We'll get a goddamn pizza if it'll shut you the hell up about it."
Deacon lost track of time as the live band played at their favorite pizza and beer joint. He'd lost track of the number of beers he'd downed hours earlier.
"Last call!" the bartender shouted as the band played their final number
"Oh fuck! I was supposed to pick up Ray at 2. It's damn near 4am! C'mon, we gotta go!" Deacon stammered, slurring his words
"I think your ass in in trouble already. We might as well stay out longer." Vince quipped surrounded by women
"You're either comin now, or findin your own way home!" Deacon stammered as he tried to stand and walk straight
"I think one of these ladies can probably bring me home later!" Vince smiled at his newfound friends
"Suit yourself!" Deacon replied stepping outside into the sweltering late July evening, immediately feeling sick in the heat
He puked next to this truck, and had to stop several times on his way home. He puked again in the apartment parking lot. He emptied the contents of the glove compartment looking for the gum he kept in there, cussing when he didn't find it.
The lights were on in the apartment as he climbed the stairs to their second floor unit at nearly 5am. Rayna was home, and up. He took a deep breath as he entered bracing for the inevitable fight.
"Glad you could bother to come home. You sure as hell didn't bother to make sure I got home tonight!" Rayna snapped before he'd even closed the front door
"I'm sorry, Ray. I lost track of time." He slurred his words
"YOU'RE DRUNK?" she snapped accusingly as the apartment filled with the stench of stale beer and puke, which was all over his shirt
"No point lyin. Yeah, I been drinkin." He sadly admitted seeing the disappointment in her eyes
"I'm not gonna argue with you when you're drunk, Deacon! Take a shower. You stink! …and sleep on the couch." She slammed the bedroom door, leaving him alone in the living room
He passed out face down on the couch without showering. He woke a couple hours later with a pounding head as bright sunlight streamed into the apartment. Rayna was standing over him angry and disappointed as ever.
"Get up, Deacon!" she snapped hitting his shoulder
"Leave me the hell alone, Ray. I feel like shit. You can bitch at me later!" he snapped and rolled over shielding his eyes from the sunlight
"DAMMIT DEACON! GET UP! TAKE A SHOWER! GET DRESSED! PACK! WE'RE LEAVING IN 30 MINUTES FOR INDIANA!" she yelled as he held his aching head
"Oh Hell! I forgot all about that." He slowly sat up, still holding his head
Rayna was more pissed off than he'd ever seen her as she cleaned the pizza from the oven where he'd thrown it the night before. The frozen pie had thawed leaving a mess of dripping sauce and cheese all over the bottom.
He slowly made his way to the shower, trying not to puke again.
"Guess you're pretty pissed, huh?" he asked 4 hours later as Rayna drove, and he sleepily awoke from his hungover slumber in the passenger seat
"I got you a sandwich, water, and Tylenol last time I stopped for gas." She said not even looking at him
"Thanks, baby! You know you're way too good to me?" he smiled as he took the Tylenol and water off the dashboard
"So, we gonna talk about it?" he asked almost an hour later after he'd eaten. Rayna hadn't said a word to him
"I don't wanna talk to you, Deacon! I just wanna get through this show." She said voice cracking
"Ray…I'm sorry…I slipped….and…" he tried to reach for her
"DON'T TOUCH ME! JUST STOP! LEAVE ME ALONE!" she cried as she drove the rest of the way to the Indiana state fairgrounds
The show went OK. Deacon and Rayna had both become professionals in their short careers as blossoming country artists, able to push aside everything for the sake of the show.
Deacon leaned in for his signature kiss at the end of No One Will Ever Love You. The crowd went wild watching the lovebirds onstage. Edgehill had advertised them as just that, and that's what the public got, even when it wasn't the case behind closed doors.
"I'm soo sorry, baby." He whispered as she pulled away from him
Rayna didn't speak to Deacon as they drove to the hotel a few miles away. She grabbed her suitcase and handed him a separate key to his own room.
"What? You're not even gonna stay in a room with me?" he asked hurt and confused
"No!" was all she said as she closed her room door, leaving him standing alone in the hallway
"Rayna! I slipped, alright?" he said as he pounded on her room door
"GODDAMMIT, RAYNA! WILL YOU PLEASE JUST OPEN THE DOOR? WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS!" he yelled, getting mad
"I SAID I'M SORRY! WHAT THE HELL ELSE DO YA WANT FROM ME?" he continued to yell and pound on her room door
"FINE! I DON'T NEED THIS SHIT!" he finally went to his own room after 10 minutes of being ignored outside her hotel room door
He slammed the door, dropped his guitar and bag, flopping on the bed pissed off. He sulked, staring at the ceiling for 15 minutes before calling Rayna's room.
"I'm sorry, OK? Will you please just talk to me?" he pleaded when she answered
"It's been a long day, Deacon! Just go to bed!" she begged, not ready to discuss his fall from the wagon after nearly 2 months of sobriety. She'd been so proud of how well he was doing. The disappointment was killing her.
"Ray…C'mon….just…." he pleaded, but she hung up on him
"DAMMITT!" he cursed, slamming the phone down
He stared at the ceiling for over an hour. He flipped through the TV channels several times, finding nothing to interest him. He tried a cold shower to take his mind off Rayna and the drink he so desperately wanted. He took a few deep breaths, slowly losing the inner battle with himself.
Rayna had the truck keys in her purse. What she didn't know was Deacon kept a spare set taped to the lid inside his guitar case.
Deacon was spiraling out of control. He'd been sober for nearly 2 months, until last night. He'd been miserable. Daily arguments with Vince and Rayna had become the norm as he struggled with sobriety. The nightmares kept him awake more often than not. He felt edgy, irritated, and argumentative all the time. The only time he felt better was during sex with Rayna. It gave him an outlet, and it had been the one part of their relationship that seemed to benefit from his sobriety.
He needed her now, but she wouldn't even spend the night in the same room with him. The cold shower had done little to appease him, as he ripped the spare truck keys from his guitar case.
Twenty minutes later he was on a bar stool in the first dive joint he came to while aimlessly driving around a town he wasn't familiar with.
The next morning…
"Good morning! How's my little song bird?" Watty cheerfully asked when Rayna picked up the hotel room phone around 9am
"I've had better nights. What's up Watty?" Rayna asked curious as to why he'd be calling her now
"Well, I have some great news. Vince loved you and Deacon last night. His other opener is gonna be out for a while. His wife had a premature baby last week and there are complications. He'd like you to stay on and open the next 5 shows for him. Edgehill is elated, and I think they may go ahead and sign you now."
"Oh my gosh! Really? I don't know what to say. Thank you sooo much for everything, Watty! I can't believe this is all happening so fast, I….."
"Calm down! Calm down! The next show is in Phoenix a week from today. I need you two back in Nashville ASAP! We have a meeting with Edgehill tomorrow. We really need to find you a manager." Watty explained
"Wait…I just thought you'd…"
"I'm not really a manager, kid. I was just kinda playin the part to help you and Deke out, get you started. You need a real professional now. I have a few guys in mind. We'll start interviews tomorrow too. Is Deacon still asleep?" Watty asked
"uuhhhmmm…I'm not sure. We had separate rooms." Rayna admitted
"Is everything OK between you two?" Watty asked concerned
"Not really. I mean, we do alright onstage, but his drinking is just…." Her voice cracked
"I was afraid of that. I'll sit him down for a heart to heart when you get back here. We need him in the game. Edgehill has you two billed as a duo. Don't worry, sweetie. He's a professional. He'll be OK." Watty tried to reassure Rayna, not really convinced himself.
"I dunno, Watty. He'd been doing so well since prom. I'm not sure what happened, but he got really drunk a couple nights ago. I haven't spoken much to him since. He promised to stop drinking on his own, and if he couldn't he'd go to rehab."
"OK, well, we need to keep this quiet for now. A long rehab stay isn't possible right now. I'll check into outpatient programs until after this short tour with Vince. You two just get back here to Nashville for now, and let me deal with the rest, OK?"
"Thanks, Watty. You're the best. Love you!"
"Love you too, kid! See ya soon."
Rayna felt a little better after talking to Watty. She knew Deacon looked up to the older man, and hoped that Watty could knock some sense into him.
She took a deep breath and dialed Deacon's room. It rang several times, but he didn't answer. She tried again thinking maybe he was asleep and didn't hear it. Still, no answer.
"Maybe he's in the shower?" she thought as she hung up and headed to the bathroom for her own shower
Thirty minutes later, fresh from the shower, sitting on the bed in a bathrobe, she tried his room again. Still, no answer. She was getting worried as she quickly towel dried her hair, threw on clothes and grabbed the spare key to his room, she'd kept.
"Deacon?" she asked as she lightly knocked
Nothing but silence came from inside his room
"Deacon…are you….?" Fear gripped her as she surveyed the empty room. The bed was made and hadn't been slept in. His bag and guitar were on the floor near the door where he'd dropped them unopened.
"Where the hell could he be?" she thought as she ran towards the parking lot. The truck wasn't where she'd parked it the night before.
She looked around. It was nowhere in sight. She began to panic as she ran around the side of the building. Finally she spotted the truck parked in the back lot.
"DEACON! WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE?" she yelled as she opened the driver's side door.
Deacon was passed out on the bench seat. Several beer bottles rolled out and broke in the parking lot. The glass shattering woke a very groggy and hungover Deacon.
"Wh….Where the hell am I?" he asked in a raspy voice, shielding his eyes from the morning sun
"I can't believe you went out and got drunk, AGAIN! What is wrong with you? This is exactly what we were fighting about, why I refused to stay in the same room with you last night. Why?" she asked as the tears started to fall
"Ray…Rayna…I…" a bottle of pills fell from his pocket as he sat up
"PILLS TOO? DAMMIT, DEACON!" she slammed the truck door and quickly walked back towards her room sobbing
"Rayna….don't….wait…." he quickly jumped from the truck, right onto a jagged edge of one of the broken bottles
"SON OF A BITCH! GODDAMMITT!" he cursed, slammed the truck door, and ran after her. He wasn't sure what hurt more, his throbbing head or his foot as he hobbled after Rayna
"Rayna, open the door please?" he pleaded outside her room
"Just go to your room and take a shower, Deacon. We need to get back to Nashville." She said through tears from the other side of the door
"Ray, I need your help. I stepped on one of the broken bottles by the truck. I'm bleeding pretty bad. Please, open the door." He begged as he looked down at his blood soaked boot
"Oh my god, DEACON! Can you take off your boot? We'll see how bad it is." She asked helping him to the bed
"I don't think that's such a good idea. Just get the truck. I'm pretty sure I need stitches." He sighed
Thirty minutes later Rayna pulled up to the emergency room doors at St Vincent hospital in Indianapolis. An orderly rushed out with a wheelchair for Deacon. His boot was completely soaked through with blood. His foot was throbbing as they rushed him to an ER.
"OK, this is gonna hurt." A doctor said as he slowly removed Deacon's boot and sock. His boot was full of blood
"Alright, this is just some antiseptic to keep infection away. It's gonna sting." The young doctor said as he poured antiseptic over Deacon's bare foot cleaning it up before he could stitch it
Rayna winced in the corner of the room as Deacon bit his lip. She hated the site of blood.
"Alright, Mr. Claybourne, you've got a pretty deep gash on the meaty part of your instep. Probably take 15 stitches. I'm gonna numb the area with a local anesthetic. The needles gonna hurt for a second." Deacon winced as the doctor plunged a deep needle into the meaty part of his left foot.
Rayna had to look away.
"OK, all done! Looks good. 14 Stitches total. Those are gonna need to come out in about 2 weeks. You can see your regular doctor for that. Stay completely off the foot for 3 days and then only gentle pressure. Careful not to split it open again. Try not to get it wet for a few days and no soaking until the stitches come out. We'll get you some crutches and a clean sock. The nurse has some daily cleaning instructions for you." The doctor said as he stood and removed his rubber gloves
Rayna hadn't said much since the hospital. She was focused on the road as she drove back to Nashville a few hours later. Deacon had been quiet too. He knew she was pissed, and wasn't sure what he could possibly say to make things better.
"Are you hungry? You should probably have some lunch before you take your pain pills." She said as she pulled off the highway into a truck stop somewhere in southern Indiana near the Kentucky border
"Yeah, a little." He tried to smile. His head was pounding and his foot was throbbing, but he was happy Rayna had finally spoken to him
"So, Watty called this morning. Vince Gill wants us to stay on as his openers for the next 5 shows." Rayna told Deacon after they'd placed their lunch order
"That's great, baby. I'm so damn proud of you!" he smiled across the table and reached for her hand
To his surprise she didn't pull away. He gently squeezed her hand as he looked into her pretty blue eyes.
"I'm soo damn sorry, Ray! I can't seem to get anything right lately and…" he looked away swallowing a lump in his throat. He knew he'd done nothing but disappoint her lately
"Are you in any pain?" Rayna asked concerned
"Yeah, not sure if my head or foot hurts worse." He laughed
"Take this. You really need to stop drinking so much, Deacon. Why can't you just stop with a couple beers? Would that be so hard? Why do you have to get so drunk you pass out and don't remember anything?" she asked not completely understanding what being an alcoholic meant. At 18 she'd never experienced alcoholism until Deacon. It was all new and confusing.
"I dunno, Ray. It just goes down so easy, ya know? Before I know it it's 4am and I'm in a jail cell or emergency room, or in a bar fight that I don't even know how the hell it got started…." He trailed off looking away
"You can't keep doing this Deacon!"
"I know, baby. I'll get back on track. I made it two months without a drop. I can do it again, Ray. I just…need you to help me. Don't push me away when I slip, please, baby? I just needed you so damn bad last night and you wouldn't even talk to me…." His eyes misted over
"So, it's my fault, you got drunk?" Rayna asked getting mad, pulling her hand away from him
"No, no…that's not what I meant. I just…if I'd had you, and a distraction I wouldn't have…." He realized this wasn't going in a good direction
"I can't be there to babysit you all the time, Deacon! I can't be the reason you stay sober. You need to do it for yourself."
"That's not what I meant! …or…hell I don't know what I meant! I can't seem to do a goddamn thing right lately. I'm sorry I'm such a damn burden. I don't know why the hell ya even want me around! I'm sorry you feel like you gotta babysit my drunk ass!" he was mad as he stood up fumbling with his crutches and hobbled out to the truck to be alone
"Deacon, the foods not even here yet! You need to eat!" she called after him, but he didn't stop
"Eat your lunch." She handed him a to go box as she climbed into the passenger seat half an hour later
"I'm not hungry!" he sulked as he stared off into the distance, gripping the steering wheel
"Fine, then slide over here. You're not driving after a night of drinking, pills and now pain killers on an empty stomach."
"I'm FINE, Rayna. I need to do somethin to keep my mind occupied." He sniped as he started the truck
"Dammit, Deacon! You are not gonna kill both of us if you pass out behind the wheel. Eat your lunch, or slide over to the passenger seat and let me drive!" she firmly replied shoving the to go box back towards him
"FINE!" he grudgingly took the box and scarfed down his sandwich before shifting the truck into reverse
Deacon felt bad as they neared Nashville. He was angry at himself for drinking and felt like hell which only made his foul mood that much worse. He really hadn't meant to take out all of his frustrations on Rayna, but it seemed since he'd started this sobriety thing she'd had to take the brunt of his foul moods and temper.
He'd been putting off stopping for gas. It killed his throbbing foot to climb in and out of the old truck. Rayna had been sound asleep for a while. The truck was running on fumes as he pulled into a gas station. The last thing he needed was to run out of gas. He quietly grabbed is crutches and lightly closed the door, careful not to wake her.
He'd succeeded in not waking her as he climbed back in with a stuffed bear he'd found in the gas station. He placed it on the set next to her, and started the truck for the last 30 miles back into Nashville.
She woke a few minutes later as traffic increased nearing downtown Nashville. It was rush hour and crazy drivers were testing Deacon's already thinning patience as he maneuvered through heavy afternoon traffic cussing under his breath.
"mmmmmm…How long have I been out?" she asked sleepily, stretching in the passenger seat
"Damn near 3 hours." He smiled hoping she was lightening up towards him
"What's this?" she asked holding up the bear
"Found him at a gas station. Thought he kinda looked like me in his little denim shirt and boots. Thought maybe you could hold him when you're mad at me. …or when I'm gone to rehab, which I'm sure that talk is comin, huh?" he asked sadly knowing he'd already agreed if he slipped and drank
"Yeah, but right now I'd rather hold you." She slid across the vinyl seat and wrapped her arms around his waist snuggling close against him. She felt horrible about is foot. She'd left the broken bottles on the ground. She was proud of him for bringing up rehab. She didn't have to now.
"How's your foot?" she asked
"Hurts like hell, but the headaches gone. Holding you sure helps, baby. I've missed you the past couple nights. I'm soo sorry, Ray." He pulled her tight against him, happy she didn't seem to be mad at him anymore
"I've missed you too, Deacon. I love you. We're gonna get through this. I hate fighting with you."
"Me too, Ray. The makin up's pretty nice though, huh?" he laughed and snuck a quick kiss as he drove