Chapter Twenty-Two
Full of Grace
"These are your discharge instructions, honey. Y'all take a look and I'll go over 'em with you before you check out later today. Oh - and I'll leave this here for y'all too, so you can talk it over," the heavy-set, African-American nurse said, waving a piece of paper. "Just remember we need to have it filled out before y'all leave the hospital, okay, Mrs. Claybourne?"
The woman hesitated a moment, then looked over at Deacon and back at Rayna. "Mrs. Claybourne?"
"Ray," Deacon said, nudging Rayna's arm. "She's talkin' to you."
Rayna wrenched her gaze from the infant sleeping on her lap, her cheeks going red. Mrs. Claybourne. The truth was, she had been Mrs. Claybourne for such a short time that she didn't yet answer to the name. But it had seemed smarter, from a privacy standpoint, to check into the hospital as Rayna Claybourne, rather than Rayna Jaymes.
"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry. We'll get it taken care of," Rayna said, putting her hand on the nurse's arm and smiling. "Thanks."
Deacon laughed as the nurse left the room. "I don't think you're ever gonna get used to that, are ya?" he said, shaking his head at her. Then he picked up the birth certificate application and pulled a pen out of his jacket pocket. "Okay, lemme see here. This is the easy part," he said, filling in his and Rayna's names, their birth dates and birthplaces. The baby's date and time of birth and her vital statistics had already been written in, and the form signed by Dr. Madsen as the attending obstetrician.
The only blank lines that remained were for the child's first and middle names. Deacon sighed and looked up at Rayna, readying himself for the familiar argument that had stretched on now for months. Her jaw was set.
"I still like Daphne," she said.
Deacon made a face. "Yeah, I know ya do. It's just - I dunno ..." He looked over at the newborn conked out on Rayna's lap. "She doesn't look anythin' like a Daphne."
"What's a Daphne look like?"
"I got no idea, to tell you the truth. But not like her," he said, a stubborn note creeping into his voice. "Tell me what's wrong with Ginny, again? You always said you wanted to use your mama's name."
"Virginia?" Rayna winced and looked away. "You know, I never really liked my mother's name. She didn't like it much either, as I recall."
"You sure that's all it is?"
Rayna didn't answer. But Deacon knew that since she'd learned about Virginia Wyatt's long affair with Watty White, she'd been struggling with how to feel about her mother. He sympathized: He knew all about mothers and conflicted feelings. But he and Linnie Mae had made progress recently in repairing their relationship, and he was grateful for that. Now, he worried that as time softened Rayna's heart, she would regret not naming the baby after the woman she'd loved so much and lost so early.
Then he thought of something that surprised him: There was no saying they wouldn't get another chance to name a baby girl, someday.
"You know, what about Madeline?"
Rayna's voice startled him; Deacon realized he'd been staring off into space, lost in thoughts of an expanding family tree.
"Madeline? That's my mama's name," he said, surprised.
"I know," Rayna said. "Aunt Sallie told me at Thanksgiving. I'd forgotten all about it until just now. I kind of like it, though. Madeline. I thought we might use Maddie, for short."
"Maddie ..." Deacon rubbed his chin and looked up at the ceiling, repeating the name and then looking back at the pink-swaddled bundle lying across Rayna's lap. "Mama'd be so proud, I think she'd just about bust," he said, standing up and walking over to the window. He tapped his fingers on the sill for a moment. "Maddie ... Daddy ... Caddy ..." he murmured.
"You writing a song about her already, babe?"
"Gotta have a good rhyme to it, right?" he said, coming back to Rayna's bedside and scooping the baby off her lap. He looked down at the tiny girl and rocked her gently in his arms, then planted a soft kiss on her small forehead. "What do you think about that, little darlin'?" he crooned. "You wanna be a Maddie?"
The baby's eyes opened sleepily and she yawned, opening her little mouth so wide that it made her parents laugh. Then she nestled into the crook of Deacon's arm and promptly went back to sleep.
"Doesn't look like she has much to say about it," Rayna said, smiling. "At least she didn't cry."
Deacon continued to gaze adoringly at the baby. "Well, it's a pretty name, all right. And I think it just might suit her. Whaddaya think about Maddie Ray?"
"I was thinking Maddie Mae," Rayna said. Deacon glanced up at her, hoping they weren't headed into another stand off, then looked back down at the baby. Rayna watched the two of them, realizing that Deacon couldn't tear his eyes away from her. It was amazing how ... gracefully father and daughter had taken to each other. Suddenly, she had a thought.
"Hey, you know what, babe? Remember you said she's a Tuesday's child? How about Madeline Grace?"
"I like it," Deacon said, smiling. He handed the baby back to Rayna and picked up the paper and pen. "Okay then, we good to go?"
"Wait - just like that!? I mean, don't you want to talk about it some more?"
"Nope," Deacon shook his head, wanting to get the name down in writing before Rayna changed her mind yet again. "M-a-d-e-l-i-n-e, right? That's how mama spells it."
Rayna nodded, though she looked dubious. "Do you really like it, babe?" she asked, looking up at him for confirmation.
"Yep. It's the prettiest name I've heard in a long while. For the prettiest baby in Nashville." He set the paperwork down and leaned over to kiss the baby's forehead again, stroking her soft, white cheek.
"God, Ray, she's so beautiful," he sighed. "We may need a paternity test."
Rayna laughed. "We already did one, remember? Besides - just look at her."
Deacon didn't need an excuse to look at his daughter's sweet, sleeping face. For the first time ever, there was a female in the room competing with Rayna for his attention. It felt so strange: He'd never even thought it possible.
"Don't you see it, Deacon? It's so obvious."
He stared as the baby stirred in Rayna's arms and yawned again. Suddenly, he felt a shock of recognition.
"You know, I think maybe she looks kinda like my mama," he said, wonderingly.
"She looks like you!"
"No! Really?"
Rayna shook her head, astonished. "Oh my gosh, you don't see it, do you?" Rayna looked up at him just after Maddie's features crumpled up in preparation for a long, hungry wail. "Look at that right there! That's your cranky face, exactly."
"My ... what?" Deacon asked, looking indignantly over at Rayna. "I don't have a cranky face."
"Sure you don't, babe," Rayna said, smirking. She handed the baby off to him so she could slip the hospital gown off her shoulder. She was still getting the hang of breastfeeding, though Maddie seemed to know exactly what to do. "Sure you don't."
They brought the baby home late Thursday afternoon to a house tricked out in streamers and balloons. Tandy met them on the porch, practically jumping up and down with excitement: "She's the most beautiful baby ever, isn't she?!"
They all agreed that, indeed, she was beautiful. Deacon wondered aloud if he should look for a beautiful baby contest she could be entered in. "She'd win, hands down," he declared, though Rayna seemed less keen on the idea. Tandy ordered Chinese takeout for dinner and insisted on holding Maddie so Rayna and Deacon could sit and eat together. Afterwards, Deacon gave Aunt Tandy a diapering lesson: He had paid close attention to the nurse's instructions in the hospital and wanted to show off the first of his practical parenting skills.
Those skills would get a workout over the next several days. While Maddie had been mostly sleepy and passive in the hospital, coming home seemed to wake her up. For the most part, she was a sweet-tempered, cuddly baby who truly was remarkably pretty, with a striking resemblance to Linnie Mae, Deacon's mother. She had dark blue, slightly almond-shaped eyes with long girly lashes, pink cheeks, a button nose and a light fringe of auburn hair.
She also had a lovely crib, a cradle that was a genuine family heirloom, any number of brand-new bouncy seats, a battery-operated baby swing and even a lovely white sheepskin, courtesy of her Uncle Bucky. But she had no interest in occupying any one of them for more than a few minutes, making her preference for being in arms at all times loud and clear.
"Aren't babies supposed to sleep once in a while?" Deacon asked, after he and Tandy had taken turns holding her for the better part of that entire first weekend, so Rayna could get some rest in between the feedings Maddie demanded every two hours around the clock.
"Oh, she sleeps. She just doesn't want anybody else to sleep," Tandy muttered, looking as exhausted as he did. By Sunday afternoon, she was apologizing profusely as she packed her bag. "I'm sorry, y'all, I wish I could stay," she said, looking both guilty and relieved to get back to the peace and quiet of her own home. "It's just that I've got to go to work tomorrow."
"Hope you sleep well," Deacon said with a grim chuckle, as he hugged her goodbye and Rayna waved from the couch, where she was once again nursing Maddie.
On Monday morning, Edgehill sent out a press release announcing the arrival of Madeline Grace Claybourne. That week, the tabloids and the music press all ran stories about the new "Princess of Country," every one of them calling Maddie "Nashville royalty."
The lake house filled up with flowers, gifts and cards, all of which Rayna insisted on opening personally and reading aloud, declaring each and every Hallmark sentiment so sweet or absolutely precious. Deacon watched with some concern as his formerly strong and steady wife turned into the equivalent of a weepy teenage girl before his eyes. He could only lay this alarming personality shift to a combination of Maddie-induced exhaustion and raging hormones. And he could only hope that it was temporary.
By Wednesday, he returned from a late-morning run to the store for baby wipes and diapers and found Rayna still on the couch in her nightgown, crying right alongside Maddie.
"Hey, darlin'," he said, setting the shopping bags down on the kitchen table and coming to sit beside them. "What's the matter, sweetie?"
"She's going to leave us, Deacon. She's going to grow up and leave us..." Rayna wailed, dissolving into fresh sobs.
"What?"
"She's going to grow up and go away from us ... I'm going to miss her so much."
Deacon was astonished, though he pulled Rayna into his arms and kissed the top of her head. She looked up, her face tear-stained, and caught him trying to hide a bemused smile.
"Don't laugh at me!"
"I'm not, darlin'."
"Yes, you are! You think I'm being silly!"
"Naw, I don't darlin'. You're right, she is gonna grow up and be on her own, someday," he said patiently, straining to be heard over the baby's cries. "But think about it, Ray: Before she does anythin' like that, she's gonna have to learn how to sit up, and then walk, and talk, and go to Kindergarten. And that's just the beginnin', right? I think we got a lotta time ahead of us yet to enjoy her."
Rayna sniffled and shifted the baby onto her shoulder, patting her back in a vain attempt to stop the wailing. "Yeah? You think?
"Sure I do."
"I guess you're right. I don't know what's wrong with me lately. It's just that I'm so tired ..."
Tandy had been pushing them to hire someone to come over and help out with the baby and the house, but Rayna wouldn't hear of it. She knew she would have to rely on a nanny as she and Deacon returned to work, given the late nights and the touring that went along with the music business. But for now, she wanted her daughter to bond with family, not strangers. Deacon had agreed with her, in theory, before the baby was born. But now, he could definitely see the benefits of getting some help.
"Why don't you let me call my mama, darlin'?" he asked, rubbing Rayna's back.
"Linnie Mae? Do you think she can really afford to take time off? Neither one of us wants her to get into trouble at work."
They had discussed the idea of having Linnie visit, but she had recently started a job as a secretary at her church and they knew she hadn't yet accumulated vacation time. And that she couldn't afford to take unpaid leave, even if she could get it.
"Well, she's offered to pay us a visit and she's so excited about this baby she's just about fit to be tied. Maybe Rick can pull some strings at the church and get her some time off; he's on staff there. And we can help her out with some money, if she'll let us. After all, we'd be payin' somebody we hired who's not Maddie's grandma, right?"
"That's true," Rayna said, slowly. The royalty checks for her album had started rolling in on a regular basis, and with sales going through the roof, they were making more money than either of them had ever seen. "Okay, maybe you should ask. I just wish I knew what I was doing wrong and why she won't stop crying..." Rayna's voice trailed off, threatening another round of sobs.
Deacon sighed, releasing her and standing up. He reached for the baby. "Here, lemme take her for a while Ray, see what I can do. You go lie down." He took Maddie, balancing her in his left arm while he dug around in a nearby pile of baby gifts with his right. "Where's that damn thing..." he muttered, finally pulling out a brightly colored box that featured a picture of a beaming father carrying a laughing infant in what looked to be some kind of backwards backpack.
"Here we go," he said, pulling the cloth harness and its baffling array of straps and buckles out of the box. He placed Maddie, still squalling, down on the rug while he struggled to tie the contraption onto his body. Once he had it secured, he picked up the baby and carefully wedged her inside it.
Rayna watched him, her eyes wide. "Babe, what are you doing?"
"I dunno. I figure I just gotta try somethin'."
"But are you-"
"Ray, just let me be, okay? You go lie down a while, get some sleep, you'll feel better. And meanwhile, I'll call mama and talk this thing through with her."
Rayna watched, growing increasingly concerned as Deacon put on a hat and buttoned his jacket around Maddie's body, bundling her up tightly against the soft flannel fabric of his plaid shirt. She glanced out the window at the lake. She could see that it was bitterly cold out. Something made her uneasy; possibly Deacon's tendency to act impulsively when he was stressed. And always, in the back of her mind, there was the uncomfortable realization that this was the longest period of time she'd ever known him to be sober, and it hadn't even yet been a year.
"Deacon, what are you - you're not taking her out in this weather?!"
"Rayna," he said, his tone firm but not unkind. "Go lie down."
"It's awful cold out, babe. Make sure she's-"
"Rayna! I'm her daddy, I can take care of her."
Deacon eased a tiny, pink-and-white cap over Maddie's head. Aunt Sallie had knit it, along with a pair of booties and a sweater, and sent it just after the baby was born. He pulled it down, making sure Maddie's ears were covered, and walked toward the front door.
"Be careful with her, babe. Please."
This time Deacon didn't say a word, he just looked over at Rayna.
Trust me.
She took a deep breath, stood up and raised her hands in surrender. She watched him walk out the door, then turned and went to the bedroom, sinking down gratefully on top of the bed. She was asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.