A/N: Happy New Year! I had no idea, starting out, that this fic was going to get so long (!), but thanks much to those who are still reading. And thanks, as always, to Shiny Jewel for her careful editing and valuable suggestions.
Chapter Thirteen
The Definition of Happiness
Rayna carefully adjusted the colorful scarf she had wound around her neck. She hoped it would draw attention up to her face and away from her thick mid-section, which was draped under a dark-purple sweater. The idea that she still had more than six weeks before her due date was mind-boggling. Apparently, her stomach was actually going to get even bigger, though that was hard to believe. She was already fighting stretch marks, heartburn and back ache. While she wasn't looking forward to labor, this baby could not be born soon enough, as far as Rayna was concerned.
She knocked at the door of apartment 426, juggling a salad bowl and a bottle of Italian dressing. It was her contribution to dinner at Dave's apartment. They had been talking about doing this since she'd been on tour in the fall, but between her trip to Natchez, his new rotation at the hospital and the time she had been putting in to finish up her album, they hadn't had a chance to make it happen.
Even tonight, she'd almost cancelled on Dave when she had learned that Deacon was being honored at an AA meeting for reaching six months of sobriety. It was longer than he'd ever made it in AA before, and she wanted to be there for him. She'd told Dave about the conflict, but he had come up with a solution: They would just move dinner up by an hour so she had time to make the meeting.
Now, he opened the door with a huge smile on his face. "Rayna!" he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek and relieving her of the salad and dressing. "So glad we're finally getting a chance to do this. I was starting to think it might never happen."
"Me too," Rayna smiled, following him into his apartment. She stopped to admire the gorgeous Christmas tree Dave had set up in the corner near his living room window. It was decorated with twinkling white lights and gold bows and sparking red glass ornaments. The man truly had great taste.
"I've been so wrapped up in my album that I haven't even gotten a tree, can you believe that?" Rayna sighed.
"I think that's understandable. But you're finished with all the last-minute changes on the album now, and you still have a week to get a tree before Christmas, right? So you're good."
This was why Rayna enjoyed being around Dave so much: He always knew exactly how to make her feel better. He put her salad and the bottle of dressing on his dining room table and went into the kitchen. "I hope you like linguine with red clam sauce," he called.
"Yum … that sounds great. I'm starving," Rayna said, glancing at his dining room table and noticing that it was set for three.
Dave came back into the room with a dish of grated Parmesan cheese and a loaf of bread. He followed her eyes. "Oh – Kim's joining us. I don't think I mentioned that. I hope you don't mind."
Rayna raised her eyebrows. So - finally a chance to meet the elusive Kim. Dave mentioned her occasionally but he had never clarified their relationship, and Rayna had never felt quite comfortable asking for details. "I don't mind at all, that'll be great. Deacon's meeting starts at 7:30, so I probably ought to leave here around 7. Is that okay?"
"Perfect. I'm so happy about all the progress he's making."
Rayna nodded and smiled happily, following him back into the kitchen. "I know. I can hardly believe it. The longest I remember him being sober out of rehab is right around four-and-a-half months. And he's never been as solid as he seems this time."
Dave nodded, lifting the lid of a pot on the stove and stirring his pasta sauce, which emitted a wonderful, rich tomato-y aroma. "Well, he's probably never had this kind of motivation before, right?" he asked, glancing at her tummy.
"Right. He's knows this time's for real - that's for sure. He's done some really ... surprising things lately. Showed a lot of restraint. Stuff I didn't even think was possible." Rayna stopped for a moment, considering. Then she continued. "I'm just so proud of him. I've barely had a chance to tell him, though. Between me putting in 12-hour days at the studio and him working non-stop all of a sudden, we've hardly seen each other."
In fact, since they'd flown back from Mississippi, Rayna and Deacon had only occasionally run into each other in the halls at Soundcheck Studios. All the last-minute tasks involved in releasing an album had consumed Rayna - an admitted perfectionist - along with Bucky and her producer. The three of them had been listening to song mixes, approving final tracks, deciding on the lineup for the album, going over marketing campaigns, choosing cover art and making sure that legal had gotten permissions from all the featured artists. Just a day earlier, the process had finally been completed. The album was ready to drop on Christmas Eve, a prospect both thrilling and terrifying. A lot of high hopes – Rayna's and Edgehill's – were riding on the finished product. It was widely expected to top the charts shortly after its release.
She and Deacon had stayed in touch by phone and email, but he was busy, too. Perhaps seized with some of the good will of the season, Nashville's music community had finally softened on its favorite bad-boy guitarist. All over town, band leaders and music producers had decided to let bygones – in the form of missed dates and drunken rants - be bygones. As a result, Deacon had been booked for gig after gig, from corporate Christmas parties, to holiday shows, to a couple of weekend tours that took him out of town.
Rayna questioned why he was working so hard, reminding him that residuals from his work on her new album would be pouring in by early 2000. But Deacon simply reminded her that, between rehab and the months he'd dedicated to his recovery, he hadn't worked very much in 1999. And he needed money, he said rather mysteriously, "for the kid."
Neither of them had had the time, nor the inclination, to talk about where their relationship would stand after the baby was born. Rayna suspected that he wanted her and the baby to move back to their house at the lake, a prospect that was attractive but also scary. Deacon was definitely doing better than ever, but she still felt cautious. "You'll know when the time is right," Jill kept saying, frustrating the hell out of Rayna. It was fortunate that she'd been too consumed by work, her doctor's visits and Al-Anon to think about it too much.
Now, Dave uncorked a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and placed it on the table, tossing Rayna's green salad and setting out a pitcher of ice water. He looked up as they heard the front door of his apartment opening. "Hey, sorry I'm late," a voice called out. A tall, thirty-something, African-American man in a sharp gray suit and black tie walked into the dining room smiling. Rayna watched as the man walked over to Dave and kissed him on the cheek, hugging him briefly.
Dave turned to Rayna, all smiles. "Rayna Jaymes, this is Kimball Richard Williams, III - my boyfriend."
Rayna felt her eyes widen and her mouth go dry. She blinked a few times, trying to conceal her surprise, before she stepped forward and offered her hand with a smile. "This is ... Kim!? So nice to finally meet you!"
"Rayna Jaymes!" Kim took her hand and pulled her toward him, enveloping her in a big hug and kissing her cheek effusively. "What an honor it is to meet you, honey! I was so thrilled when Dave told me you two were neighbors. He might not know who the Queen of Country is, but this here Atlanta boy sure does," he drawled, looking over at Dave with a teasing smile. "I guess we're all three going to be neighbors. I don't know if he told you, but I finally got a paralegal job here a week ago. I'm moving in next weekend!"
Rayna smiled even wider, "Wow! That's great. I'm so happy for you - both of you."
"Thanks, darlin', very much. Hey, I'm just gonna go wash up," Kim said, looking over at Dave. "You two sit down and get started on dinner. I'll be right on out." He disappeared into the hallway and Rayna turned to Dave, her eyes wide and her jaw dropping in surprise.
"That's Kim? Why didn't you tell me ...?!"
He looked at her for a moment. "Oh, no - come on! Don't tell me you – of all people - didn't know!?" Rayna shook her head vigorously, surprise still written all over her face. "I don't even make a point of coming out to people I meet anymore. Everybody tells me their gay-dar goes off, like, 30 seconds after they lay eyes on me."
Rayna laughed, her face flushed. "Well, my – what'd you call it - my gay-dar? - must need a tune-up. I had absolutely no idea, to be honest." She followed him back into the kitchen, where he began draining the linguine and spooning the sauce over it. "You know, I had a feeling there was something you weren't telling me about Kim, but I never really thought I could come right on out and ask."
"I'm sorry, Rayna. I totally didn't pick up on that. I didn't mean to keep anything from you. I assumed that - being in the music business - you must run into a lot of us. Most creative occupations are pretty much overflowing with gay men, you know?"
"Hmmm ... maybe. But not country music, so much. I mean, they're out there, I'm sure. But a lot of them must keep it close to the vest; our fan base is pretty traditional. I imagine it's going to be a while yet before we have any big stars that are out of the closet." Rayna plucked a strand of pasta off of the serving platter and dropped it into her mouth. "You know, thinking about it, I feel pretty stupid. That first time we really talked, I remember what you told me about how bad it was to keep secrets. You seemed to know a lot about it personally," she said, looking at him seriously.
He nodded. "Oh yeah. That was my own experience talking right there."
"That was some of the best advice I've ever gotten, babe. I don't think I told you this, but it changed my life – and Deacon's. And a lot of other peoples' lives, too. It makes even more sense now. In fact, a lot of things make more sense, now that I've met Kim."
"What - like why I never made a pass at you?"
Rayna smiled, a little taken aback. "Well, it's not like every man I meet comes on to me, but – yeah. There were a couple of times when I thought maybe we were ... having a moment. And I wondered if you were going to. But maybe I was so desperate and lonely, I was reading something in that wasn't there."
Dave shook his head and took her hand. "Listen, Rayna, I've never said this to a woman before, but there were times these past few months when I thought, 'You know, if things were different….'"
Rayna laughed. "Okay, true confession time. If I'm being honest - I did, too. Except I had a different reason," she said, placing a hand on her tummy as he nodded. "Hey, don't ever tell Deacon I told you that, okay? He's already jealous."
"Really - him, jealous of me? Man, I'm flattered. In fact, that kind of makes my night."
Kim walked into the kitchen just then, dressed in pressed jeans and a long-sleeved denim shirt. He helped carry the last of the food to the table. They all sat down and the conversation, the al dente pasta, and the wine, flowed freely - though Rayna opted for a glass of skim milk. And she noticed that Kim stuck to the ice water.
When the talk turned to Deacon, and his recovery, Kim was especially enthusiastic. He asked if he could go to the AA meeting where Deacon was being honored. "I've been clean and sober almost 10 years now, Rayna," he announced proudly. "There's nothing better than watching someone hit that six-month mark. Unless it's watching someone get to a year. Dave probably doesn't even know this, but I'm a big fan of Deacon's; I have his album packed up in a box around here somewhere. Maybe he'll let me tag along with him to a meeting, once I get settled into Nashville."
Rayna said she thought Deacon would be happy to do that, and that he wouldn't mind if Kim attended the meeting. Of course, then Dave wanted to go, too. Rayna was fine with that idea, especially when Dave offered to drive. Getting behind the wheel of her car was becoming a tight squeeze. And she was very much looking forward to seeing how Deacon reacted to meeting Kim - though she didn't mention that.
After dinner, the three of them quickly cleared the table and rinsed their dishes. They didn't have much time to get downtown if they were going to catch the beginning of the meeting.
"Before we do anything else tonight, we have a special presentation," Jill announced, looking to the front row of the crowded church meeting room, where Deacon and Gus were sitting in folding chairs. "Guys, come on up here, will you?"
Deacon took a deep breath and slid his palms down his pant legs nervously before getting up and following Gus to the podium. He stood awkwardly, his hands in his pockets, and scanned the audience. Where was she? He had e-mailed her about the meeting a week earlier, and she'd said she would try to attend. Jill continued talking, but Deacon was having a hard time listening; he was distracted, wondering what had become of Rayna.
Just then, the door in the back opened and she walked in, followed by her neighbor, Dave, and another man. Deacon smiled at her and caught her eye as she selected a seat in the back row. He hadn't seen her in about 10 days. It was hard to believe, but she'd actually gotten bigger in just that short time. The poor girl was so damned pregnant that Dave had to hold the flimsy folding chair for her while she grabbed the back of it and lowered herself down. Deacon winced, just watching her.
Gus adjusted the microphone and looked over at Deacon, holding up a metal chip in his fingers. Deacon focused his attention back on his sponsor. "Deke, it's been a hell of a tough ride, but ya hung in there like a champ these past six months, man," Gus said. "This here's just the beginnin' of a whole new life. I'm proud of ya. Keep takin' it one day at a time and pretty soon you're gonna have yourself a new birthday to celebrate." He beamed as he handed the chip over to Deacon and enveloped him in a bear hug. There was loud applause in the room as the two men held each other for a few minutes. When Gus let go, Jill stepped in to hug Deacon. When she finally released him, both of them were wiping away tears. Then Gus and Jill sat down, leaving Deacon alone at the podium.
He adjusted the microphone and began to speak, hesitantly at first. "First off, I wanna thank y'all," he said, looking at Gus and Jill. "I can't even start to tell you how much I appreciate what you done for me these past few months. I been through a crapload of programs over the years, and to be honest I figured none of 'em would ever work for me. And then I got to Riverside and I met y'all, and everythin' changed. I know I been a pain-in-the-ass half the time and a basket case the rest," he said, laughing, "but this program made the difference for me, and probably for a lot of us sittin' here in this room." Deacon paused, overcome by emotion. "I love both of y'all, I really do," he choked out, and the room erupted in raucous applause, accompanied by a few loud whistles.
Deacon braced his hands on the podium, looking down and taking another deep breath. The crowd quieted as he lifted his head and gazed out over them. "I don't want to hold things up too long, but since I'm here, I figured I'd speak my piece," he said, calmer now. "These past six months haven't been a picnic, but I learned a few things. For one thing, I learned that all those other times, I was just fakin' it. And I learned that I'm not responsible for changin' my past, just for understandin' it and acceptin' it. And acceptin' myself - not just the bad, but the good, too. I also learned that kids don't bear the sins of their fathers. But most of all, I learned that I got a choice about my future. I can't make the wrongs go away, but I don't have to let 'em keep happenin', either."
Deacon stopped, breathing deeply again and trying to organize his thoughts. "Every time I want a drink so bad I can taste it, that's what I think about. And I gotta tell you, I'm thinkin' about it a whole hell of a lot." There was a smattering of knowing laughter from his fellow AA members, who recognized his struggle. "But I'm also thinkin' about how I kinda lost myself – the real me - when I was growin' up. I thought I had to be someone else, someone that ain't like me at all, deep down. Right now, I feel like I got another shot at it - a chance to get things right. So that's what I'm gonna do: Concentrate on makin' good memories from here on out."
Deacon paused, looking down again. When he raised his head, his jaw was tight and his eyes glittered with unshed tears. He looked to the back of the room and found Rayna's gaze again. "My, uh …." Deacon paused, realizing that he didn't have a word to describe what she meant to him. Girlfriend wasn't accurate anymore, but she wasn't his wife or his fiancé, either. Baby mama - even if he said it in jest - would make her want to kill him, he had no doubt. He hesitated a moment, and then he found exactly the right word. "My family's here tonight, supportin' me. And all I can say is - thank you. I been a burden to you these last few years, and I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry for what I put you through."
In the back row, Rayna swallowed hard, tears sliding silently down her cheeks. Dave leaned over and put his arm around her, squeezing her shoulder, and Kim reached for her hand, brushing away a tear of his own.
"Everybody told you to move on with your life and give up on me. I know they did, because those same people told me to stay the fuck away from you. And, hell - both of us probably should've listened to 'em. But you're stubborn like me, and thank god for that, 'cause you never did give up on me, darlin'. You never lost faith in me - not even when I lost faith in myself. You're about the bravest, most loyal …" Deacon paused, his voice breaking.
After a moment, he regained his composure and cleared his throat. "Anyway, what I'm tryin' to say is, I'll never forget how much you done for me, Ray. And I aim to spend the rest of my life doin' right by you, and by our family." Deacon paused, seeming to think for a while. And then he nodded to Jill, indicating that he was finished, and walked quickly back to his seat.
After the meeting broke up, Rayna made her way to the front of the room. Deacon was there, accepting hugs and congratulations. When he saw her, he smiled and stepped toward her. She kissed his cheek and held him for what felt like a long time. "Thank you," she whispered into his ear. "I'm so proud of you."
"I'd never be here without you, Ray. Hell, I wouldn't even still be on this earth, prob'ly. I meant every word of what I said."
A long line of people were there, waiting to talk to Deacon. Rayna stepped back and watched him for a while, basking in the way his ear-to-ear grin brought out his dimples. It felt strange, seeing him accept compliments with sincere thanks - and maybe even a hint of pride - rather than with joking or self-deprecation. When Dave shook his hand and introduced him to Kim, Rayna took note of the momentary confusion on Deacon's face. He shot her a bemused look as the two of them walked over to the refreshment table hand-in-hand, and she smiled, nodding at him with her eyebrows raised. Apparently his gay-dar was just as underdeveloped as hers was. That made her feel better, somehow.
After a cup of decaf and a couple of cookies, Rayna glanced at her watch. She hadn't realized how late it was. She went to pick up her coat from the back of the room. She struggled to get her arm in the sleeve, until someone reached out and helped her slip it up over her shoulders. She assumed it was Dave. But when she turned to thank him and ask if he was ready to go home, she saw Deacon standing there, looking almost bashful.
"Hey," she said.
"Hey, Ray. Um ... I know it's gettin' kinda late. But I was hopin' you might have a few minutes to come out to the house with me," he said. "I got somethin' I wanna show you."
Rayna considered this. With her album finished, she'd been able to sleep late and she didn't feel all that tired. Besides, Deacon had that sweet, hopeful look on his face. She hated disappointing him when he looked at her like that. "Uh, sure. I guess," she said. "As long as you don't mind giving me a ride home from there. I don't have my car."
"No problem at all, darlin'."
The two of them said their goodbyes, Deacon shaking hands all around and thanking Gus and Jill again. Jill watched closely as Rayna and Deacon prepared to leave. Rayna noticed the curiosity on the older woman's face. "What?" she asked.
"Nothing," Jill said, enigmatic as always. "I'm just happy for you - and Deacon. And I'm looking forward to Christmas. I think this year is going to be really special."
"Me too," Rayna said, reaching out to hug her. "And thank you. Deacon already said it, but you've taught both of us so much this year. And I wouldn't have had anybody else for a teacher."
Jill laughed at this heartfelt confession. "All right, knock off the bullshit, lady" she said, hugging Rayna close. "You would've preferred anybody but me. Unless maybe it was your father."
Rayna laughed, too, stepping back. "Okay ... that might've been true at first, but it's not any more. Really. I mean it."
Jill nodded, then looked toward the door. Deacon was standing there, looking impatient. "Okay, enough with the mutual admiration society. Go on, girl, before he comes over and drags you out of here."
Deacon walked down the hallway ahead of Rayna. "So, I figured this room would work out kind of nice for the kid, if you want to come here after you get out of the hospital. It's a lot easier to get in and out of than your apartment. And we've got laundry right here and lots of room for strollers and toys and all that other stuff it seems like babies need."
Rayna followed behind him, listening. It felt so strange, being back in this house that the two of them had shared - off and on - for so many years. The last time she'd been here, it was just a few days after her home pregnancy test had come out positive. She and Tandy had driven by, looking for Deacon, after getting word that he'd fled Riverside early. She'd stood on the back porch, despair overwhelming her as she'd watched him raging through the house, clearly drunk off his ass.
The memories nearly overwhelmed Rayna as she walked past the master suite, stopping to glance quickly in at their old bedroom. She hadn't slept there since the night their daughter had been conceived. She recoiled for just an instant, remembering vividly the panic she'd felt, waking up in that bed alone, only to find Deacon passed out on the couch, surrounded by empty bottles. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind of the bad memories. He was sober now. That's what she needed to focus on.
He called her name as he walked into the bedroom across the hall and flipped on the light switch. Rayna had always imagined that they would use that room as a nursery someday. But while she'd lived there, it had been a place to stash instruments and boxes of music and suitcases and a collection of stray keepsakes, among other items.
Rayna poked her head into the room now. Deacon was standing inside, smiling at her. She stepped in after him and looked around, bringing her hand to her mouth as she gasped with surprise. All of the junk was gone. The worn shag carpeting had been pulled up and discarded and the hardwood floor underneath it had been sanded and refinished in a rich, warm walnut. The walls had been repainted, from dirty beige to a creamy yellow. A cheery wallpaper border, featuring cartoon giraffes, hippos and elephants sporting shades and playing musical instruments, marched around the walls. A crib and changing table, painted white and outfitted with bumpers that matched the wallpaper, took up one side of the room and a twin bed with a matching spread took up the other. In the middle of the room sat an old-fashioned rocking chair and a cradle. Deacon walked over and plugged an electrical cord into a wall socket, lighting up a tiny Christmas tree that stood on a nightstand next to the bed.
Rayna turned to Deacon, astonished. "This is beautiful, Deacon! I can't believe it! When did you do all this?"
He smiled and shrugged, clearly pleased with her reaction. "Oh, I dunno. I kind of pulled things together little by little since you told me about the kid comin' along. I painted the walls and pulled up the rug after we got back from Natchez. And then I brought one of the upstairs beds down here for you – or for me, if you'd rather have our old room. Or, I mean," he hesitated a moment, "I'll move out altogether Ray, if that's what you want."
Deacon walked over to her and took her hands into his. "The thing is, you always loved this house so much, darlin'. I want it to be your place again. Your's and the kid's. Your sister can stay here with you, maybe. Or, my mama said she'd get some time off and come help you at first, if you'll have her."
Rayna listened to all this in silence, overwhelmed. She walked over to the rocker and cradle and examined them closely, looking at the polished pine wood and fingering the ornate designs carved into it – fat cabbage roses and twirling ivy vines, climbing and falling, over and over. "These pieces are gorgeous, Deacon. Where in the world did you find them?"
"Family heirlooms, from the Dillon side. Looks like somebody built 'em and carved those designs in by hand. My mama used them and my sister did too, for Scarlett. They always said there was nothin' like 'em for soothin' a cranky baby. Mama took me up to the attic one night last month, after you went to bed, and asked if she should ship 'em up here for the kid. I thought maybe you might like to use 'em."
Rayna blinked back tears, thinking about how much this furniture must mean to Deacon. She grasped the arm rests and Deacon helped her lower herself carefully into the rocker. She reached a finger out and gave the cradle a gentle push, noticing how smoothly it oscillated from side to side. Deacon lifted a foot and showed her how it could be rocked from the bottom, too. "Mama said this cradle, and a lullaby, always got me to go right off to sleep," he said, smiling.
"They remind me of you."
"Really? Why?"
"They're just - I don't know. Authentic, I guess. Not out of some factory, or with a fancy label, but beautiful and creative and full of love. Just like you. Just like your songs."
"Well, if you mean not commercial – yeah, that sounds about like my songs," he said. "But thanks," he added, his eyes twinkling.
She smiled, then looked around the room, marveling again. "Why'd you get a Christmas tree for this room, Deacon? The baby won't even be here until February."
"I know. I guess it is kinda crazy," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I just thought it'd make the room look kind of ... festive, you know? Look here." He turned off the wall switch, leaving the room in semi-darkness, illuminated only by the soft glow of the colorful lights on the tree.
"Mmm-hmm," Rayna nodded, gazing up at him as she rocked herself slowly in the old chair. "It sure is pretty."
They were quiet for a few moments. He leaned up against the changing table, taking in the room and then looking at her. "What do you think, darlin'?" he asked. "Are you ready to come home?"
Rayna thought a while, then she looked at him again. "You know what I think? I think you're happy, Deacon Claybourne. And I think I haven't seen you really, truly happy in a long time. Maybe ever."
He paused a moment, evaluating this, and then he grinned. "Yeah, I guess maybe you're right, Ray. Funny, isn't it? I can't get drunk and have a good time, or pop a pill to smooth the rough edges over. My career and my bank account just about hit bottom this year. And I don't even know what in the hell's goin' on between you and me anymore. But … yeah. I'm happy."
Suddenly, as if she were right there in the room, Rayna heard Jill's voice. "You'll know, when he can be happy without you. When he finds himself ... his true self." Rayna hadn't understood the words at all, the first time she'd heard them - months earlier, when she'd attended the open house at Riverside. But they made perfect sense now.
She heard Jill's voice again: You'll know when the time is right.
Rayna looked up at Deacon. And she did know.
She reached for him and he helped her out of the rocking chair and straight into his arms. She slid her hands up his back and buried her face in his shoulder, breathing in the smell of his skin and turning to press small kisses into his neck.
"What's goin' on, Ray?" he asked, holding her close. He chuckled to himself when he realized that his arms no longer made it all the way around her torso.
"It's time, babe," she murmured. "I've missed you so much."
He pulled his head back and she did the same. They looked into each others' eyes, their noses nearly touching. "Time? You mean ... for you to move back in? Or ... for us to …?"
"Mmm-hmm," she said, smiling and nodding. "Both."
He smiled back. "Are you sure, darlin'? Really sure?"
"I'm really, really sure, babe. I'm completely, totally, 100 percent sure. I'm sure that I love you." She leaned in and kissed him softly on the mouth. "And that I want you."
Rayna kissed him again, more urgently, wrapping her arms around his neck and moaning a little. Deacon pulled her as close to himself as he could, grinning between kisses, and then murmuring, "I dunno, Ray. I might not even remember how, after all this time."
"What, you forgot already?" she teased, still kissing him. "Tell you what, babe. I didn't forget a thing. I'll walk you through it the first time. How's that sound?"
"The first time? And then what - I'll be on my own from there?"
"Well, I'll be here if you need help," she said, pulling her head back to smile at him and sliding her hands down his chest so she could unbutton his shirt. "But I think you'll do just fine, really. You always were a natural." She slid his shirt off his arms and then her hands roamed lower, loosening his belt and slipping inside the waistband of his jeans. He groaned - a ragged, throaty sound - as her hands closed around him. "See there?" she teased. "It's already comin' back to you, babe."
He brought his hands up to her face and held her jaw, kissing her harder and moaning as she stroked him lightly. It was obvious she was driving him wild, something that had always turned her on. He started backing her toward the twin bed, then glanced over her shoulder dubiously and seemed to think better of it. Instead, he stepped out of his pants and took her hand, leading her across the hall and into their bedroom.
"What's the matter, babe? That bed's not big enough for the both of us?" she said, laughing.
He laughed too, and all the pain and uncertainty and bad memories seemed to evaporate, as that joyful sound filled the room. He sat down on their bed and pulled her down next to him. "Let's just say I think we'll be more comfortable here, darlin'. Where we know our way around," he said, diplomatically.
"Fine with me," she murmured, running her fingers through the stubble of his beard and into his hair, kissing him again and pulling him close to her. "I missed this bed something awful. I never wanted to leave it in the first place." They kissed and twined their arms around each other, taking their time shucking her clothing off, relishing every touch; every moment.
It would have been lovely if the next few hours had been effortless: If they'd re-learned each others' bodies instantly and the art of love-making had come back to them without a hitch. But things didn't go exactly like that. It wasn't the long absence that stymied them - they'd been apart for prolonged stretches before and had always picked up right where they'd left off. But this time, there was simply no getting around the fact that Rayna was eight months' pregnant. Movement in general was difficult for her, and the size and shape of her body were unfamiliar to Deacon.
As a result, there was considerable fumbling at first, and some awkward conversation.
"Um ... how about we try ... oh. Wow. That's not gonna work, is it?"
"Nuh-uh. Why don't you …"
"Ouch!"
"Whoops, sorry darlin'! You okay?"
"Yeah, babe. Hang on a minute. Let me ... okay. Now, how about if you … oh! Oh, yeah…"
"Better?"
"Mmmm-hmmm … Wait a minute, I've got an idea. There. Yeah. That's even better, babe."
"Yeah? You likin' that?"
"Mmm-hmm…. I sure am..."
There were no words needed after that, not for a long while. Afterwards, they laughed a little at their own clumsiness. Then they swept their discarded clothing off the familiar bedspread and crawled under the covers together, naked. They lay like that, with their arms around each other, kissing and rubbing noses and looking deep into each other's eyes, for a long time.
"I hope that wasn't too bad, sweetie."
"It was fine, babe, really. More than fine."
"I always meant to go back and read that damn chapter. Or at least look at the pictures."
"Me too. I guess we'll have to keep practicing 'til we get it right, huh?"
"Mmm-hmm, darlin' … we're gonna have to practice and practice and practice..."
They resolved to start right then and there. And thankfully, the second time around was much easier.
And when they found each other for a third time, in the wee hours of the next morning, after Rayna had awakened and waddled off to the bathroom and returned to find him awake and ready for her again ... by that time, they were practically old pros.