Rayna had polished off her 3rd small bottle of wine from the hotel mini bar, and was feeling a little tipsy. She wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. She rarely had free time with no kids, no Deacon, no Highway 65 business. She'd wanted to bring her laptop to keep up with happenings at the office, but Deacon had insisted she leave it home.
"You won't need it, baby. All you'll need is me for the next two weeks." He'd smirked as he pulled her laptop away, sliding it under the bed, out of her reach as he lifted her night gown and proceeded to kiss her into submission
"Damn him." She cursed still peeved he'd lured her on this trip under the premise of 2 weeks alone, just the two of them, which was apparently no longer the case.
"2 weeks alone, just the two of us! Right…now where the hell is he?" she muttered as she opened a 4th small wine bottle.
Deacon had spent the better part of the past two weeks sulking and brooding in true Deacon form. It was his normal process for dealing with anything.
She'd tried to get him to talk, deal with his feelings about John. He'd insisted he was "fine" and there was nothing to deal with.
Rayna knew better. He'd been moody, snapping at her and Mason for no reason. Often sitting alone on the back porch for hours. His quiet place where he went to think and contemplate whatever was going on in his life.
"You wanna talk about it?" she'd asked curling up close to him on the swing a week or so earlier
"NO" he'd snapped unwilling to discuss much of anything about John, or what he'd told Deacon that night at the Bluebird
As with anything that bothered Deacon, he needed his time to brood. Once he'd worked through his feelings, he'd deal with whatever was bothering him.
Rayna had been looking forward to this time alone with Deacon for the past two weeks. He was finally healthy, and able to resume all normal activity.
After a year of doctors, hospitals, tests, and more tests, unimaginable fear, sorrow, denial, and eventually acceptance that she was losing him. Just before Christmas, she'd started the grieving process. Deacon was off the transplant list, with no hope of receiving the life saving liver he so desperately needed. She'd faced the fact that their miracle wasn't going to happen, and her time with Deacon was close to an end.
…and then the miracle happened in the form of an anonymous donor. They now knew was John, but his link to Deacon was unclear.
John had told Deacon he was adopted by the Reids in the summer of 1985. They were older and starting a family later in life than most. Apparently there had been fertility issues and they weren't able to have a child of their own. They'd given up after years of trying.
John wasn't sure how they came to adopt him, and he wasn't entirely sure it was legal. His father Malcom Reid had suffered a fatal heart attack 5 years ago. His mother Mary Reid had passed just last year. She'd suffered with ovarian cancer the last two years of her life, before finally losing the battle early last year.
The Reids had doted on John his entire life. He was their world. He never suspected he was adopted, although something always seemed off. He didn't resemble either of them, their parents, or any of his aunts, uncles, or cousins.
The Reids had been very down to earth, happy, carefree people that just kind of took life as it came and believed everything happened for a reason. Mary was a teacher. Malcom was laborer at a local factory. Both had easy going, likeable personalities. Both were social and liked being involved in community events.
John was the opposite. His entire life he'd been more of a loner. He preferred to be alone with a guitar. He hated the parties and social events his parents dragged him to. The Reids always just seemed to just handle any situation with ease and work through it. John was more intense, brooding, and at times fell into depression.
It was depression, dealing with his parents deaths, and his endless brooding that had ended his own marriage. A year before his father died he'd married the love of his life, Marie. Nine months later they'd had their first child, a daughter, Lilly.
They were happy, but the death of his father when Lilly was only a few months old had fueled John's ongoing battle with depression. He'd began drinking, gambling, and made a huge mistake after a fight with Marie. He'd gone to a bar, and in a drunken state of mind had an affair with a waitress.
Marie found out. They'd tried counseling, and for a while it worked. They were back together, working through the issues. Things were better until Mary Reid was diagnosed with cancer. It was already a stage 4 at diagnosis. The doctors offered little hope for long term survival. The best they could offer was a year, maybe 2 with chemo.
John slipped into another long bout of depression dealing with his mother's cancer. Being an only child, and with his father already gone, his mother's care fell completely on him. Marie had tried to help, but after a year of dealing with a sick mother in law, a husband who ignored her and their daughter while he worked through his own depression and issues, Marie had had enough.
She took a then 3 year old Lilly and left John. Last he knew, she'd gone to Florida to be near her own parents. John was left completely alone with his dying mother. He'd spent an entire year caring for her, going to chemo with her, alone with no support system.
At home in hospice care last year she'd passed with John by her side, but on her death bed she'd made a shocking revelation. She was weak and hard to understand, but she'd told him he was adopted. She wanted him to know the truth, that he still may have family somewhere and wasn't alone in the world. She'd given him the name Deacon Claybourne.
At first he thought she was delirious from the strong drugs she was taking for pain management. She'd always been a country music fan. John knew of Deacon Claybourne as a big country star. He had often played the radio with her favorite country stations during her final days. He assumed she was just confused and maybe had heard Deacon on the radio recently. She passed later that evening.
It wasn't until a few weeks after Mary's funeral as he cleaned out his mother's personal belongings and paperwork he found what appeared to be his original birth certificate and a certificate of adoption, signed by John Deacon Claybourne and Hattie May Claybourne.
He'd immediately gone to the internet in search of any information he could find on Deacon Claybourne. His search had yielded little in the way of results linking the country star to Natchez Mississippi.
Deacon's online bio did list Natchez as his birthplace, but there was little else. John had found that the country star steadfastly refused to speak of his early years and childhood in interviews. His life prior to the start of his country career with Rayna Jaymes was almost non-existent. There was no mention anywhere of his parents or siblings.
John wasn't even sure there was a connection between the people who'd signed the birth and adoption certificates and the country star Deacon Claybourne. Maybe they just happened to share a last name. Claybourne is fairly common in Mississippi.
The mystery only deepened when he visited Natchez Medical Center to see if they could give him any further information on the birth certificate he'd found. Turned out it was a fake. There was no record of his birth at that hospital on that day or any day. The birth certificate wasn't even the same format as the ones issued by the hospital.
With little to go on and no leads, John simply began asking around town at long time businesses to see if anyone knew John Deacon or Hattie May Claybourne and if there was any connection to the country star Deacon Claybourne.
Just by word of mouth he learned that there was in fact a connection. They were his parents, but Deacon rarely set foot in Natchez and both parents had since passed away.
That was when John had decided to take a trip to Nashville to see if he could possibly talk to Deacon Claybourne. Security was high priority with the Claybournes and John quickly realized meeting Deacon might prove to be difficult. Deacon's cancer diagnosis and lack of public appearances following made it impossible.
After months of unsuccessful attempts he'd learned the ailing star was in need of a liver transplant. Some soul searching later he'd decided he needed to help him. Maybe this was meant to be. After all, from what he'd learned Deacon Claybourne was most likely his brother.
Rayna's head was pounding. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. She tried her best to focus. Everything was blurry, but she could see 1:03am.
"Babe, would you please get me some Tylenol and a glass of water?" she whined in the dark
"Deacon?" she asked after a few seconds with no response
She slowly rolled to face Deacon's side of the bed. It hurt to move. Her head was pounding. She reached for Deacon in the dark room only to find his side of the bed empty and cold.
"Where the hell is he?" she asked herself as she sat up holding her throbbing forehead
She slowly climbed out of bed to check the parking lot. The truck wasn't there. She found her cell phone. No missed calls or messages.
"Where the hell could he be?" she wondered as she sent a quick text
[It's after 1am. Where are you?]
Fifteen minutes passed with no response. She tried again.
[Deacon? Seriously? It's late! I'm worried! Where are you?]
Another 20 minutes passed with no reply. She tried to call.
"This is Deacon. You know what to do." His voicemail told her
"Babe, where are you? Please call me back now!" she begged and hung up
An hour passed. It was almost 3am. Still no response to her texts or voicemail. Her mind began to worry and wander to all the bad things that could happen.
She was about to call Deacon again when she heard the key card in the door lock
"Dammit…son of a bitch…" Deacon cursed as he fumbled with the key card
"Where the hell have you been? I've been worried sick for the last few hours!" Rayna asked, clearly pissed off as Deacon entered the room
"Deacon? I've texted and called you. What…."
"Not in the mood, Ray! My phone died, alright? The car charger is in your purse. I'm sorry I upset you." He answered cutting her off
"OK, well….where have you been? Are you OK?" she asked a little more sympathetically, noticing he was upset
"No." he answered as he slumped into a corner chair
"Talk to me, babe? Please?" she asked again seeing the anguish all over his face
"Deacon. Come on. Don't shut me out. What happened with Beverly? Did she tell you anything else?" she coaxed as Deacon brooded
Deacon looked so forlorn. The anger Rayna had been feeling all night faded into sympathy just looking at him.
He glanced around the room at Rayna's assortment of empty mini wine bottles strewn about, suddenly grabbing the one on the table next to his chair. Before she could stop him, he'd bounced it off the wall. Luckily it was plastic and not glass. Deacon had often shattered bottles and glasses against walls in their earlier years during fights.
"Deacon…what…."
"He's my son, Rayna! John is my son. I swear, I didn't know."
"…but, how? You were only 16 when you left Natchez."
"Yeah…well…what do most 16 year old boys have on their minds? I wasn't any different." He sighed still trying to process everything himself
"Are you OK? I mean, where have you been all night?" she asked sitting on the ottoman to face him. She leaned her forehead against his. That's when she noticed the smell of whiskey on his breath.
It had been years since Deacon had taken a drink, but Rayna would never forget the stale whiskey scent of his breath. 15 years since he'd really been heavy into drinking and her heart sank realizing he'd been drinking tonight.
"DEACON! Please tell me you didn't?" she stood up, crossing her arms, staring him down accusingly
He looked away, unable to face her.
"I don't even know what to say to you right now, Deacon. I cannot believe after everything we've gone through in the past year, after you've been given a second chance, you'd do this? How could you…" Tears began to fill her eyes
"I'm sorry, Ray. I slipped….I….didn't mean to. I stopped after one shot. I sat at the bar staring at an empty shot glass for over an hour. I wanted another one, but dammit I didn't order it. I still want it, but…" his eyes misted over as he watched Rayna for a reaction
She had her back to him.
"Ray, please…I'm sorry honey. I stopped…for you, and the kids…I didn't mean…." He hung his head looking at the floor
"We shouldn't have come here, Deacon. This town just makes you crazy. It's been 16 years since you've been here. 15 years since you've had a drink. It took all of a few hours here to send you to a bar. What the hell, Deacon?" she wasn't sure if she wanted to cry or scream at him. Liver transplant and all he was still an alcoholic. There would always be a chance he'd slip.
Deacon was shaking. He still wanted another drink. The shot of crown had tasted soo good. He knew he could have easily downed several more. It had taken everything he had to walk out of the bar, but he knew Rayna was waiting. He knew how disappointing her would feel. She couldn't even look at him.
"I'm gonna take a shower." He finally broke the silence after several minutes, getting up, he brushed his hand along her back as he passed her. She wouldn't look at him. She tensed under his touch.
The water cascaded over him as hot as he could get it. He felt horrible. He'd been given a second chance at life, and instead of being grateful he gone back to the same vice that had landed him at death's door. He punched the wall, frustrated, craving another drink, feeling overwhelmed with everything Beverly told him about John. Feeling guilty for hurting Rayna. Feeling like the scared little boy he'd been all those years ago under his father's control.
"Want some company?" Rayna softly asked slipping her arms around him, under the steamy water, as he leaned against the wall, crying out of frustration
"I'm so goddamn sorry, Ray." He whispered as he turned in her arms and pulled her close, letting the tears fall as he held her tight
"I know, Deacon. You slipped. I'm disappointed, but I'm also very proud of you for walking out of that bar after one drink. I love you. I know you're having a hard time. It's OK. I'm here and I'm never going anywhere. Whatever Beverly told you, we'll get through it together, OK?"
"OK" he simply nodded before pressing a hard kiss on her lips. He pinned her against the tile wall making mad, passionate love to her as the water continued to cascade over them.
Deacon carried her from the shower to the bed, without even drying off, proceeded with more stress relieving love making. His usual gentle thrusts replaced by deep, tingling thrusts driving Rayna crazy. He was so intense, but she loved this side of him in bed. The gentle Deacon was nice, but this side of him was raw, passion, uncontrollable yearning to be as close as he could to her. She knew he needed this outlet to let go of all of his anger and frustration. She willingly let him ravage her all over, kissing her with such passion. He couldn't get enough of her, and she wanted him just as much.
A couple hours later they both fell breathlessly into the other bed for a decent night's sleep. Both were physically and emotionally exhausted from the day's events as they drifted off to sleep wrapped in each other's arms.
Rayna woke several times throughout the night. Deacon was restless and she knew he was struggling. She had always hated coming to Natchez for this reason. It brought back painful memories from Deacon's childhood. Memories that even 30 years later he really couldn't deal with.
She wondered just what Beverly had told him as she watched him sleep. His jaw was clenched, his expression troubled even in sleep. She felt bad for being upset with him, and hoped he'd be receptive to talking about things when he woke.
She'd finally managed to fall asleep after untangling herself from Deacon. She loved being close to him, but he was so tense and restless she couldn't fall asleep against him.
Sun Light streaming through the crack between the curtains woke her. She glanced at the bedside clock. Squinting in the bright light from the sun she made out 8:46am.
"Deacon. Babe, it's almost 9. We should probably get on the road if you still wanna get some driving in today." Her smiled faded when she rolled over, finding Deacon's side of the bed empty
Her mind went negative immediately, thinking the worst. "What if he was drinking?" she thought jumping from the bed to peer outside
His truck was gone. She searched the room for her phone.
Ray,
Be back soon. Need to find a meeting. Don't worry. I'm OK, baby. Thank you for helping me relieve some stress I needed that, and YOU! Don't know where I'd be without you.
Love you,
Deacon
Relief washed over her as she read the note on hotel stationary Deacon had left under her phone. He was OK and going to a meeting. That was a plus. He hadn't needed a meeting in years, but she was thankful he was fighting his urge to drink.
She'd thought they were long past his drinking days. He'd been good for soo long, but deep inside she'd known since the day she married Deacon that drinking was his vice and there would always be that chance he'd slip.
"Morning. Are you still mad at me?" Deacon asked coming into the room with breakfast and a dozen roses
"No, Deacon. I'm just worried about you. How was your meeting?" she asked as he handed her the roses and kissed her cheek
"Good…good…been a while since I've needed AA, but it was nice to still feel like the support was there. Got my welcome chip." He smiled pulling a shiny new welcome chip from his pocket
"I'm proud of you, Deacon. You seemed so tense all night. Feeling a little better today?" she asked sympathetically
"Yeah…I'm good. Got some things to work through, but I think you can help with some of that stress relief." He smirked pulling her into his arms for a deep morning kiss.
"You wanna talk about it?" she asked her own curiosity getting the best of her
"I do, but first … Lets have breakfast and pack up. I owe you a mexican trip down memory lane like I promised. Just the two of us, rest of this trip, OK?"
"That sounds nice, Deacon. I can't wait to get to the resort."