Chapter Seventeen
A New Millennium
Deacon took a deep breath and passed his hand over his mouth, struggling to control his emotions.
"I guess the word you might use is blindsided, or somethin', 'cause when I lifted that lid and saw that fifth starin' up at me, well - I don't know. It was kinda like the last six months never even happened. Goin' to rehab, gettin' clean, makin' my amends, workin' the program - it was like I was right back to where I started."
Deacon shifted his weight and swallowed hard. "Anyway, I went to open that bottle and take a real long pull, just like I used to, especially if I figured my girlfriend wasn't lookin'." He gazed at the floor and shook his head, getting choked up at the memory of how he used to deceive Rayna. "I tell you, I could just about feel that burn hittin' the back of my throat."
"I hear you, brother."
Deacon looked up to determine the source of the deep voice and saw a tall, thin man with sunken cheeks sitting in the back of the room, nodding at him. He nodded back as a chorus of affirmative voices joined in. Deacon took another deep breath, determined to get through the story and back to his seat without breaking down. "I could have taken a drink right there. But somehow, I just didn't. I went inside and poured out that fifth, and about - I don't know, maybe 10 more just like it I found stashed around my cabin."
"Good for you, man."
This voice was female. Deacon looked to his right and saw a young blonde smiling at him from the front row.
"Thank you," he replied, nodding at her. "Uh, so anyway, I got rid of the booze and I would've dumped the pills too, 'cept there weren't any in the place. When I called my sponsor the next mornin', he told me I needed to get my ass over here. And he - uh, he encouraged me - to share my story with y'all."
Deacon cleared his throat and continued: "I guess it's true. You never know when somethin' unexpected's gonna come up that can knock ya off track. But you gotta remember that you got a choice. That's one thing I learned, the last few months. What counts isn't what I say, or what I think, or even what I want. What counts is what I do."
Deacon paused and then looked over at the plump, middle-aged woman who moderated the AA meeting in this small mountain town 20 minutes from his cabin. She smiled and stood up as Deacon walked to the back of the room and took his seat, sighing with relief. He didn't think being up front would ever get easy - not without a guitar in his hands - but now at least Gus would get off his case. He'd been attending this meeting every afternoon since he and Rayna had been at the cabin for the holidays. But the two of them were headed back to Nashville the next day, Dec. 31, 1999, to attend Edgehill's New Year's Eve party. This had been his last chance to take Gus's suggestion to heart.
The party would celebrate not just a new millennium, but also, "Rayna Jaymes: Locked and Loaded," the new album that was already breaking Edgehill sales records. Two singles were getting airplay in addition to "This Love Ain't Big Enough," which had been released early and was still hovering near the top of the country and pop charts. "This album's got wheels!" Bucky declared, every time Rayna talked to him. But she had already decided - with Deacon's backing - that tomorrow night's party would be her last appearance until sometime after the baby was born. Already, she had sworn off in-person interviews, agreeing only to several days of radio spots and a couple of one-on-one phone interviews with music journalists for the first weeks of January.
The timing was bad, and Deacon knew as well as anyone the importance of promotion, but he also understood that Rayna needed a break. In the final weeks of her pregnancy it seemed that the turmoil of the previous eight months had finally caught up with her. She had been taking daily naps since they'd been at the cabin.
Sitting in the back of the dingy, cramped community room behind a local government office, the mental image of Rayna was never far from Deacon's mind. In fact, he wasn't sure which part of his day was more important: Leaving her to be with strangers who understood things about him that she never would; or returning to the quiet cabin, winter shadows falling, to find her in his bed, cheeks flushed with sleep, her lips parted slightly, her hair spilling over his pillow.
He had developed the habit of taking off his clothes and crawling in beside her each afternoon, careful not to lift the covers too high and risk a rush of cold air awakening her. He didn't want that to happen until he had run his hands lightly over her body, delivering feather-light kisses to her exposed skin. He loved watching her as she swam slowly up from a deep sleep, and hearing her sigh as he gently aroused her. He loved the way she would moan and finally turn over, reaching out her arms for him and pressing her mouth against his until he had finished what he'd started.
Deacon shook his head, dispelling the distracting thoughts, and focused on the rest of the meeting. Afterwards, he made himself stay long enough to down a bad cup of coffee and chat with a few people who came over to thank him for speaking. The blonde girl who had been sitting in the front row was the last person to say hello. Deacon returned the greeting, looking at her more closely. She had short-cropped hair and freckles, and in her gray sweatshirt and jeans she seemed impossibly young.
She grinned at him conspiratorially for a moment, then whispered, "My granddaddy sure does love your music."
Deacon stared at her, not sure which was more upsetting: Her blatant breach of the iron-clad AA rule of anonymity, or the fact that it was her grandfather - and not her - who was a fan. He studied her another moment, taking in her youth - she couldn't be more than 18 - and the goofy grin on her face. When he concluded that she didn't mean any harm on either account, he smiled back at her.
"You know you're not supposed to say stuff like that here - right? But anyway - thanks. I guess."
She shrugged, laughing off protocol, and drained her last swallow of coffee like she was throwing back a shot. "He'd love to meet you, you know. If you got a second."
Deacon looked around the room, but the girl shook her head and laughed.
"Oh no, he's not here. I'm the black sheep in the family. He's up front," she said, jerking her head.
"Up ... front?"
"Yeah. He's the county clerk; his office is right here in this building," she said, sounding a tad boastful. "My granny works for him. And my mama's the postmistress, she's got an office across the street. In fact, I bet she'd get a kick outta meetin' you, too."
"Oh," Deacon said, finally understanding. "Um, I dunno. My girlfr ... my fiancé's back at my cabin. She'll be expectin' me for ... " Deacon paused a moment, swallowing hard. "Dinner."
The girl looked devastated. "Aw, c'mon! I promise I won't let either one of 'em chew your ear off," she said, adopting a wheedling tone. "It'd get me in good with 'em for the rest of the week if you'd see your way clear to just stoppin' by there for a little visit. I know it would."
She looked so hopeful that Deacon couldn't refuse. "Okay, maybe just for a minute," he said, tossing his paper cup and following her out into the dirt parking lot. "Hey, what'd you say your name was?"
"I didn't," she smirked. "I'm Kelly. Um ... Kelly M."
Deacon chuckled at the way she emphasized the AA-appropriate introduction. "Pleased to meet you, Kelly M. Sounds like your people pretty much run this town."
"That's for sure. Nothin' goes on in these parts without my family knowin' about it. That's what all the folks around here say, anyhow."
"Is that right?" Deacon asked, slowly.
"Yup. And they also say that nothin' that happens in these parts gets out, neither. Not without my granddaddy's say-so, anyway."
Deacon thought hard as he followed her around the side of the building. He stopped to look at the front door, which was made out of glass inscribed with a fancy gold seal and a scroll reading, "Clerk of the County."
"Hey, your granddaddy wouldn't happen to be a justice of the peace, would he?" he asked.
Rayna knew as soon as she woke up that Deacon was not in the cabin. It was cold and still and the pillow next to her was empty.
Just a few weeks ago, she would have panicked at this unexpected fact. She had panicked. But since they had been at the cabin this past week, her trust in him had grown exponentially. She realized now with some surprise that she wasn't worried about him. Something fundamental between them had changed in that moment when he had been confronted directly with temptation and faced it down.
She pulled on a robe and brushed her hair, walking into the chilly living room. Deacon must have stopped at the grocery store to pick up something special for their last dinner at the cabin. Their last night. Rayna felt a pang in her stomach, just thinking that. Much as she loved Music City, and her career, and the thought of moving back in with Deacon at their lake house, this little break from reality had been so wonderful she didn't want it to end.
She shivered and pulled on Deacon's heavy leather gloves, opening the little door on the front of the potbellied stove. The job was awkward because the gloves were too big, but she managed to add a couple pieces of split wood, copying the way Deacon laid the new fuel on top and then stirred the embers with the poker. She closed the stove and set down the poker, pulling off the gloves. Then she heard the crunch of gravel and looked out the front window to see Deacon getting out of his truck. She walked to the front door and opened it, smiling.
"Hey, darlin'!"
"Hey, babe."
"How you doin'? Did you get a good nap?"
"I did," she said, sliding her arms around him as he walked up to the door. He kissed her on the cheek and they went into the kitchen. "But I missed my wake up call," she added, slyly.
Deacon smiled. "Oh you did, huh?"
Rayna kissed him, then murmured, "I did," against his mouth, and kissed him again.
"I guess I'll have to make it up to you, then."
"Are you gonna ravish me right here in this kitchen, like last time?"
Deacon laughed. "Ravish you? Is that what I did?"
"Mmm-hmmm," she said, smiling and kissing him again, more eagerly this time.
Deacon was pleased with her obvious desire for him, and surprised that it was not flagging even in the last weeks of her pregnancy. Without getting into any details that might embarrass Rayna, he had confessed to Gus that in the aftermath of finding the whiskey bottles on Christmas Eve, he'd gotten fairly aggressive sexually. He had felt out-of-control and it had scared him a little, particularly since he worried about somehow hurting the baby.
Gus had paused on the phone, hearing this. "Well, ya didn't hurt the baby - or her - did ya?" he had asked, finally.
"Uh, no. I don't think so. I think ... uh, I think she kinda liked it," Deacon had admitted.
"Well, then, don't worry about it, man."
Deacon had been relieved but hesitant. One of the AA truisms was that once one addiction was at bay, another often replaced it. To prove the point, most of the guys at rehab were chain smokers. And Coleman had frequently cast Deacon's attraction to Rayna in the same light - as a substitute addiction.
But Gus did not seem to subscribe to this idea. "Hell, you want her all the time? So - all that means is that you love her!" he had said. "I couldn't live without my Wanda either. But that don't mean I'm addicted to her or nothin'."
His logic had put Deacon's mind at ease. Now, he tightened his arms around Rayna and leaned down to kiss her, long and hard.
She smiled when he finally broke the kiss and ran her fingers through his hair. Then she looked at him, curious: "Hey, where have you been, anyway?" she asked.
He smiled back, rather mysteriously. "Out seein' somebody about a wedding."
As Rayna had suspected, as soon as they returned to Nashville, she and Deacon got caught up in twin whirlwinds: album promotions and moving. Their long, lazy week at the cabin quickly turned into a memory, several promising songs being the only tangible legacy. But the early days of January kept them too busy to even think about songwriting.
There was good news, however. The new album was selling even better than first realized.
"You just might have yourself a gold record on your hands, little lady," a label executive had remarked to Rayna at the New Year's Eve party, a patronizing tone in his voice.
"Why not platinum?" Bucky had shot back. Deacon and Rayna had exchanged glances, smiling at her manager's fierce enthusiasm.
"This might be our year," Rayna had said, after the man walked away. "Maybe this little girl will be a platinum baby."
Over the long New Year's weekend, Rayna had her furniture and belongings moved into the house Deacon had bought for her more than seven years earlier, when he'd completed his first stint in rehab. After the last moving van pulled away, Rayna and Kim spent the entire evening driving Deacon and Dave half-crazy as they arranged and rearranged her furniture, incorporating every piece into the bare spots and empty corners of the house. They were lucky it was big enough so that everything actually fit.
Everything except for the crib that Lamar had sent to Rayna's apartment as soon as he had heard the news about her pregnancy. Deacon had disassembled it and managed to wedge all of the pieces back into the box, which was leaning up against the wall in the nursery he had refurbished. After they'd split a couple of pizzas and finally sent Dave and Kim home with thanks for all their help, Deacon found Rayna in the nursery, staring at that very box.
"What're you doin' in here, darlin?"
"Nothing."
Deacon stayed silent until Rayna finally turned her head and met his gaze. "I guess I hoped Tandy might want this one for her spare room, so we could put the baby down for a nap when we were there. Or in case she babysat sometimes when we had a late show."
"That's a good idea. It could still happen, you know."
Rayna shook her head. "No, I don't think so," she said, lowering herself into the rocking chair and sighing. "She's done with me, and I guess I can hardly blame her." She closed her eyes and dropped her head back. "Man, I am absolutely beat. But it's starting to feel like everything's coming together, finally." She looked down at her stomach, which had done double-duty balancing her plate of pizza earlier in the evening. "Just in the nick of time, huh?"
Deacon laughed. "We never have been the plan-ahead type, have we?"
"Nope. More like the fly-by-our-asses type," she said, laughing along with him. "Hey, speaking of last-minute - are we getting married before this baby shows up or not, Deacon?"
"Yeah, we are. It's all comin' along. I just need a little more time to pull everythin' together."
"Okay," she said slowly, raising her eyebrows. "You'll give me a date before too much longer though, right? I mean, like - before I go into labor? Please? I don't have a clue what I'm going to wear. I always thought I'd have a white wedding; now I don't even know what color to shop for."
"I thought you already decided on khaki."
"What?" Rayna looked at him, thoroughly confused. "Why on earth would I wear khaki to my own wedding?"
"Well, you said somethin' about a pup tent, darlin'. I think that's the standard color, isn't it?"
Rayna's eyes grew wide and she gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth. Deacon saw the hurt on her face and remorse flooded over him instantly. It might be okay for her to joke about her size these days, but him doing it was clearly not okay.
"I'm sorry-" he began, but the indignant fury on her face stopped him.
"That's not funny! That's just - you're just mean!" she choked out, starting to cry.
Deacon knelt on the floor in front of the rocker and reached up to embrace her. He was surprised that she didn't resist when he drew her head onto his shoulder and began stroking her back, making soothing noises. "I'm sorry, Ray, I'm so sorry. That was an awful stupid thing to say. I ought'a be horse-whipped, teasin' you like that," he said.
"Yes, you should be!" she said. But her sobs began quieting.
"You know what, darlin'? You're gonna be the most beautiful bride in the world. Doesn't matter what you're wearin' - none of that matters to me, you know that. You always look gorgeous, even when you're not wearin' a stitch. Especially when you're not wearin' a stitch - pregnant or not. I'm the luckiest guy in the world, gettin' to marry you."
His apology seemed to mollify her, but she continued to cling to him, her face buried in his shoulder.
"What else is wrong, baby?"
Rayna pulled back and looked at him, her face stained with tears. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, it's not just me bein' a jackass that's botherin' you tonight, Ray."
She wiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands and sniffed a few times. "How do you do that, babe?"
"What?"
"Read me like a book."
Deacon smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. "I dunno. Guess I been studyin' up a long time," he answered. Then he took her face in his hands and helped dry the last of her tears. "What's the matter, darlin'? What are you so sad about - is it your family?"
Rayna nodded and sighed. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, Daddy'll never approve of me, I know that by now. But Tandy's all I've had since mama died. She's always looked out for me and ..."
Tears formed in Rayna's eyes again and Deacon pulled her close to him once more. "I just - I miss her. I can't believe she won't be shopping for a dress with me, or standing up with me when we get married, like I always pictured. She won't be there to see our baby girl when she comes into the world."
Deacon's jaw clenched and he tightened his arms around Rayna's shoulders. "I know, darlin'. Gus told me this was gonna be hard on you, not havin' your sister in your corner with all that's goin' on. But you know what? She's gonna come around. Wait'll she gets a good look at her beautiful little niece. She won't be able to resist, I know it."
"Really?" Rayna asked. "I wish I could be so sure."
Deacon finally set the date for their wedding in mid-January. He told Rayna they would be married by a clerk in the county seat a few miles south of where his cabin was located. It would be just a short, civil ceremony in a government building - nothing fancy. But it would accomplish their goal of being legally wed before they became parents for the first time. And because it was taking place in such an obscure, out-of-the-way place, it was not likely to attract any press attention - as long as they didn't tell anyone who didn't need to know, and swear to secrecy anyone who did.
Gus was standing up with Deacon. Rayna had asked Jill to do the same for her and the older woman had agreed, though not until after the two of them had laughed about how far their relationship had come since their first, adversarial meeting. In a completely unexpected way, Jill had become something like a mother to Rayna, a role that had become more important since Tandy had walked out on her before Christmas.
Gus and Jill planned to drive straight to the clerk's office from Riverside just after work. The clerk had promised to keep his office open late for them on a Friday afternoon, and not to breathe a word about why. Deacon and Rayna would drive up from Nashville and have a few days' honeymoon at the cabin before they had to be back home to start their birthing classes.
"These folks that'll be marryin' us, well, they're a little rough around the edges, Ray," Deacon had said, taking her hands in his own and looking at her. He seemed sincere, but his words made Rayna nervous. She knew his definition of rough was far different from her own. "But they're the real deal, y'know? The kind you can trust with your life, if they're really your friends. And I think these folks are our friends."
"Okay," Rayna had said, wondering what in the world he was up to. "As long as there aren't any photographers in my face, or pictures of me in a maternity wedding gown splashed all over one of those awful tabloids, whatever you've got figured out will be fine with me, babe."
Still, when their wedding day rolled around, she was cross. As usual when Deacon was involved, they started out later than planned and had to fight traffic all the way out of town. She hated the dress she had settled for after trying on what seemed like every maternity gown in Nashville. The selection was definitely limited, unfortunately, and she had desperately missed Tandy's honesty and keen eye while she shopped. The dress was simple, without any of the bows or ruffles or yoking at the neck that made maternity clothes so hideous, but it was an odd shade of ... muddy green. She had looked at colors because black seemed too somber and white seemed like a truly bad joke. But this color certainly wouldn't have been her first choice.
In this case, however, the green dress was simply the lesser of all evils. Still, Rayna had cringed when Deacon first saw her in it, wondering if he would smirk. Instead, of course, he fell all over himself telling her how beautiful she looked. Rayna knew he still felt guilty for teasing her and she was grateful for the love he showered on her, but she privately suspected he was just being kind. She had put her hair in hot rollers and tried to pin and spray it on top of her head in some kind of elegant up-do, but without her stylist the whole thing looked in danger of flopping at any moment. She hadn't had any help getting ready because she and Deacon - and Bucky, who was in on their plans - had decided that it would be safest to involve the least number of people possible. That ruled out her makeup, hair and wardrobe assistants. Everyone they usually worked with seemed trustworthy, but a scoop like this one could earn a hefty tabloid fee; large enough that they didn't want to take any chances.
On the drive out of town, Deacon seemed distracted and nervous, which was unlike him. In fact, he'd been acting odd for days, staying out late and coming home with only vague explanations for where he'd been and what he'd been doing. Rayna watched closely but could find no sign that he was drinking. She finally put his mysterious attitude down to anxiety over getting married, though this seemed like a strange time for him to get cold feet.
When they drove past the cabin and arrived at the seemingly deserted county clerk's office, Rayna wondered what she'd gotten herself into. There were no reporters hanging around, or TV trucks, which was reassuring. But the small, squat building situated in a dirt parking lot looked more like a bait-and-tackle shop than a county seat. She glanced around, dubious, as Deacon parked the truck and helped her out.
"This is it? Where are Gus and Jill? I thought they were supposed to meet us up here."
"They are," he said, looking around nervously. "They'll be along any minute now."
Rayna was staring at him, trying to figure out what was wrong, when a tall, wiry woman wearing a old-fashioned silk flowered dress burst out of the building and scurried toward them. She had gray hair caught up at the nape of her neck in a thin ponytail that fell halfway down her back. "Mr. Claybourne! How are y'all?" she drawled heavily, holding both hands out and smiling at him. "We are so excited to have you here! You and your beautiful bride!"
Deacon took her hands and kissed her on the cheek. The woman beamed over at Rayna and Deacon introduced them. "Ray, this is Ms. Givens. Her husband's the justice of the peace in this county. He'll be performing the ceremony."
The woman left Deacon's side and grasped both Rayna's hands, hanging onto them tightly. "Now, don't you look lovely, darlin'!?" she fairly gushed.
Rayna smiled, weakly. "Thank y'all for doing this for us, Ms. Givens. We sure do appreciate you and your husband staying after hours and keeping this to yourselves and all." Rayna glanced down at her thick midsection. "And thanks for the compliment, but - I'm afraid I'm not exactly a traditional bride."
The woman scoffed at this small detail, squeezing Rayna's hands even tighter. "Don't you worry about that none, honey. You're not the first bride we've had here who's in the family way, nor will you be the last, I'd venture. My gracious, a month ago we had a bride come in, I swear she was actually in labor! Mr. Givens rushed through that ceremony, I can promise you! The best man was right smart about it, though. He left his car out here with the motor runnin', so they could skedaddle over to the hospital right quick when the ceremony was over."
Rayna stared at this woman, not sure what to say, though she nodded and managed to extricate her hands. She looked over at Deacon with a frozen smile on her face, wondering what he was thinking, but he did not seem to be listening. Instead, he was staring over at the empty highway, rocking back and forth on his heels, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He seemed unsure about whether Gus and Jill were even going to show up. Rayna didn't understand why they hadn't stopped at Riverside on their way and picked them up, as she had suggested. She sighed, annoyed. Why did he have to do everything half-assed?
Rayna made the mistake of looking back at Ms. Givens and she realized that the woman was not through with her story. She took Rayna by the elbow and sidled up close, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "We had a bride who was expectin' in here one time, honey, I declare I thought I was going to have to catch that baby myself! I'm right surprised I haven't had to do it yet, after all these years," she said, shaking her head. Then she looked over at Rayna's stomach and eyed it critically. "I guess there's always a first time for everythin', ain't there?"
Ms. Givens broke into peals of laughter, as Rayna tried to assure her that she still had a few more weeks before her due date, but when the woman didn't seem persuaded, Rayna looked around again for Deacon. She saw that he was striding across the parking lot toward the road. She watched for a moment, fuming at him for abandoning her, until Ms. Givens turned to her with her eyebrows raised.
"He ain't high-tailin' it outta here, is he, honey!? I've seen it happen, believe me!"
"Oh! No, no," Rayna said, shaking her head. "Our friends are supposed to meet us here, that's all. I think he's worried about them finding this place. It's a big day for him. For both of us."
"Mmm-hmmm," Ms. Givens nodded sagely, though Rayna could see that she suspected Deacon was a runaway groom. Rayna sighed, rolling her eyes. This was like some kind of bad dream. Then Ms. Givens grasped Rayna's elbow again and leaned in close for more girl-talk.
"Honey, is y'all cousins?" she asked in a loud whisper.
Rayna stared at her, first confused and then horrified. "What?! No! No - we're not cousins! We - we're not related or anything."
Ms. Givens shot Rayna a sly look, again not looking completely persuaded. "Well, if you was, darlin', - if you was, is all I'm sayin' - that wouldn't be a problem. The state don't prohibit it and neither do we. Even first cousins," she said, proudly. Then she leaned in again, eager to deliver the kicker: "Why do you think we call 'em kissin' cousins, anyway?!"
This last line elicited another peal of laughter from the older woman, but Rayna was beyond laughter by now. She looked around desperately for Deacon, and saw to her great relief that he was waving at a motorcycle coming up the highway with two helmeted riders on it. The bike roared up and then slowed, chugging into the parking lot where it kicked up a prodigious amount of dust. Rayna recognized that Gus was driving but she wasn't sure who was sitting behind him, clutching his waist for dear life. It was supposed to be Jill, but this figure in a black, mirrored helmet and Hell's Angels jacket was far too lean and tall to be the director of the Riverside Center.
If Rayna wasn't discouraged by now, this felt like the last blow. Jill must have gotten stuck dealing with an emergency, or a new admission, she thought, and sent one of her female staffers in her place. Rayna had met most of them at the Christmas party and they all seemed nice, but she hated the idea of having a stranger stand up for her.
The bike pulled up and parked as Rayna blinked back tears and took a deep breath, trying hard to swallow her disappointment. She watched as both Gus and Deacon helped the passenger dismount and work her helmet off. Rayna could see that the woman wasn't used to motorcycles; she seemed disoriented and was breathing hard, probably in reaction to racing up the twists and turns of the mountain road on Gus's Harley.
Then Rayna glanced down at the woman's feet and noticed a pair of tan, Salvatore Ferragamo slingbacks that looked familiar, though they were covered in a layer of fine dust. She stared until, a moment later, Gus finally managed to pull the helmet off. There, under a nest of tangled, auburn hair - was Tandy, white as a sheet and trembling.
"Oh!" Rayna exclaimed, her hands flying to her mouth and her knees nearly buckling with surprise. Before her sister even had her wits about her, Rayna had thrown her arms around her and was holding her tight. "Oh my god!" Rayna repeated, over and over, bursting into tears. The two women stood there, hugging and crying, while Gus and Deacon exchanged hugs themselves and then high-fived.
"I can't believe you actually pulled it off, man," Deacon said, smiling and shaking his head. "I gotta hand it to ya."
"Shit - it wasn't easy," Gus said gruffly, though his face was suffused in a gap-toothed grin that made him look something like a jack-o'-lantern.
Rayna and Tandy weren't even listening. They were already catching up, chattering excitedly. "I can't believe you're here!" Rayna said. "You are the last person I expected to see today!"
Tandy beamed at her sister through hair and makeup so disheveled that Rayna's tears turned to laughter.
"I couldn't stay away honey, not on your wedding day."
"I am so glad you couldn't, babe. So glad. Thank you so much for being here."
Tandy extricated herself from her sister's arms and reached up, trying to smooth her hair and adjust her clothing. Then she nodded her head brusquely in Deacon's direction. "You'd better thank him. He's been on a charm offensive like you wouldn't believe the last few weeks. Him and this guy," she said, acknowledging Gus, who was still beaming at the two of them. "I couldn't get rid of either one of them until I agreed to come here and stand up with you."
Rayna gasped again and turned to stare at Deacon. "You did this?!" she demanded, throwing her arms around him so unexpectedly that he laughed and staggered backward with her weight. He closed his arms around her as best he could and looked over her shoulder at Gus and Tandy, happy that all his hard work was finally paying off. "Oh babe - I love you so much!" Rayna exclaimed, kissing him repeatedly.
All four of them were alternating between laughing and wiping away tears when Ms. Givens, who'd been completely forgotten in all the excitement, put her hands on her hips and cleared her throat loudly.
"Well, what I'd like to know is, are y'all still fixin' to get hitched today? Or are y'all just gonna stand out here' in the parkin' lot, blubberin' like a bunch of damn fools?" she asked. But she was smiling in spite of herself.