Rayna
She was standing outside her body, watching herself fight with Deacon. She couldn't hear the words, couldn't really even see the two of them clearly, but she could tell by the posture and the gestures that it was one with harsh words and lines drawn. She watched herself turn and walk away and she waited to see if Deacon would turn and follow her. That was usually how this went, with one or the other of them trying to get them back on solid ground. But this time she watched as Deacon went in the other direction. She turned and it looked like she was calling out to him, but he kept walking, eventually disappearing into the mist.
She woke up with a start. She pressed one hand over her heart, which was beating hard. She looked over to Deacon's side of the bed and it was empty. In fact, it looked like he hadn't slept there at all. She thought back to the things they'd said to each other the night before. It feels like we're off track. Like we don't want the same things anymore. Maybe we don't. She hadn't known what to do with that the night before. But here, in the light of day, those words chilled her to her core. She looked to see what time it was and saw that it was early, before 5:30, still dark outside. She slid out of the bed and went into her closet. She pulled a long cardigan from a hanger and slipped it on. She grabbed a pair of socks and, sitting on the bench at the end of the bed, she pulled them on. Then she walked out to the hallway and down the front stairs.
The hallway was shrouded in darkness as she approached the music room. The window at the end of the hallway picked up a touch of light from the moon and stars, enough for her to see her way to the door. She reached for the doorknob and paused. It occurred to her he might not be in there. It was the direction he'd headed in the night before, but it didn't mean he'd stayed there. It was a starting point though and she turned the knob, opening the door quietly.
The room was dark. She crept closer to the couch, and she could see him lying there, covered in a blanket, his head on one of the throw pillows. She swallowed and then walked the rest of the way, sitting right on the edge of the couch. She put a hand on the blanket that covered his arm and he stirred. He rubbed his eyes with his hand, then raised his head slightly. His eyes were partially closed still as he looked at her. He moved his arm around her and gently guided her to lie down next to him. She drew her knees up slightly as she tucked herself against him, feeling his arm slide around her waist. She put her hand on his arm. At first she just listened to his breathing, focused on how he held her close.
"Did you fall asleep in here?" she whispered.
He moved his head so that his cheek nestled against her shoulder. "Yeah. I'm sorry."
She wondered if he was sorry about their argument or just sorry that he'd fallen asleep. "I'm sorry too," she murmured. "I don't want us to feel so far apart."
He breathed out slowly. "I don't either." His voice still sounded groggy from sleep.
She felt tears pricking at her eyes. "What do we do?"
He didn't say anything at first and she wondered if he'd drifted back off. Then he finally spoke, his voice sounding sad and resigned. "I don't know."
She didn't know what to say to that. She felt a tear trail down her cheek, wondering where this was going to lead them.
When she opened her eyes again, she was on the couch by herself. She was surprised she hadn't woken up whenever Deacon apparently got up, but she hadn't really slept well through the night, so she supposed she was in a deep sleep state. She sat up and wrapped her arms around her waist. Everything felt off-kilter and she wasn't sure what to do to change that. After a moment, she got up and walked out of the room, down the hall, and into the great room. Maddie was in the den on the floor by the Christmas tree.
"Mama! Mama!" she cried, jumping up and running over to her. "Daddy made pancakes!"
She glanced over to the kitchen and saw Deacon cleaning up. He smiled and she smiled back. She looked back at Maddie. "How wonderful," she said. "The good kind?"
"Plain," Maddie said. "But they were still good." Then she turned and ran back to her gifts by the tree.
"You want some?" Deacon asked and she turned to look at him.
"Just coffee," she said. She walked over to the kitchen while he poured her a mug of coffee. He handed it to her and leaned in for a kiss. She frowned. "I'm surprised you didn't wake me up."
"You were sleeping pretty soundly. Didn't wanna bother you. Figured you must have had a tough night."
"Well, yeah, I guess you could say that." She leaned back against the island. "I had a lot of...dreams."
He poured himself some coffee and turned to face her, a slight frown on his face. "What kind of dreams?"
"Dreams about us," she said. He didn't comment, the frown disappearing from his face. "Not good ones." She waited for him to say something, but he didn't. "We still need to talk, Deacon."
He nodded. "I know."
She took another sip of coffee. "So how much time do we have?"
He looked confused. "Time for what?"
"Until you leave."
"Um, I gotta be in Memphis on January 10th."
"Okay." She waited a second, then turned and walked back into the den. As she rounded the couch she said to Maddie, "Sweetheart, what's your favorite present?" Then she sat down.
Deacon
He watched as Rayna interacted with Maddie, not really listening to their conversation. He and Rayna did need to talk, sooner rather than later. It felt like the good feelings around Christmas Eve and Christmas Day had dissipated. They were back to the same conversation they'd been having for months. He was tired of having it. It felt like they were just going in circles, like hamsters on a wheel. He was sure it was as frustrating to Rayna as it was to him, although probably not for the same reasons.
He wondered about her comment regarding having 'not good' dreams about them. They really did need to talk.
He put Maddie to bed that night. After reading 2 stories, he got her to close her eyes. He made sure she was covered with her blanket and turned the lamp off that was beside her bed. She still liked having a nightlight and that glowed softly by her closet door. He started to get up.
"Daddy?" Her eyes were open.
He sat back down. "Yes, sweet girl?"
Her face scrunched up. "Are you and Mama mad?"
He and Rayna had mostly avoided each other that day, or at least had just stayed out of the other's way. "No, baby. What makes you say that?" He didn't like that she had picked up on that. Clearly, he and Rayna needed to resolve things.
"You just seem mad."
He sighed, then brushed her hair back off her face. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. "I think we're both just tired, baby. There's a lot that goes on at Christmas."
She seemed to be considering that. "I guess," she said. She reached for her stuffed elephant, pulling it under the covers until just its face was showing. "Night, night, Daddy."
He leaned over and kissed her forehead again, then let his fingers rub her head gently. "Night, night, Maddie," he said. He watched her close her eyes again and then he got up and walked to the door. He turned and looked back at her lying in her bed and sighed again. He hated anything that made her sad. Finally he left the room, gently closing the door behind him.
He stood in the hallway for a minute, thinking about what she'd said. He hadn't been truthful when he said he and Rayna weren't mad, but he also didn't want her burdened with that. It made him wonder if he could truly protect her from that and at what cost. He breathed in deeply and then walked down the hallway to the stairs, heading for the kitchen. Rayna was cleaning up and she looked up at him when he walked in.
"She go down okay?" she asked.
He nodded. "Yeah." He decided not to say anything about Maddie thinking they were mad. He didn't want their conversation to be about that. He opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, then looked back at Rayna. "You wanna talk now?"
She wiped off her hands and then put the dish towel on the counter. "I think we should." She looked at him. "Do you have a list of where you're going?" He nodded. "I'd like to see it."
He got the sheet of paper with his schedule and joined her on the couch. He handed it to her. "There could be more spots added." She glanced up at him and then back at the schedule.
She looked up. "And when do you join Luke Wheeler's tour?"
"Uh, mid-April."
"Do you know that schedule yet?" He shook his head. She looked at the schedule again and sighed. "So, you're pretty much gone until, what, sometime in September?"
"Yeah." He could see the tension in her face. "Rayna, you know how this is. You did the same thing back in the beginning."
She put the schedule down on the coffee table, then looked at him. "Yeah, you're right. I did. But that was 10 years ago, Deacon. And you were doing it with me. We didn't have any other obligations." She paused. "We didn't have a child."
"It don't have to interfere with that," he said.
"But it does. I get that Luke's schedule is more similar to mine, but not completely. He's not taking his kids out on the road with him." She made a face. "Or maybe that's who you're modeling yourself after. Luke Wheeler, who just sees his kids when it's convenient."
He scowled. "I'm here every chance I can be, Rayna. You know that. And I'll still do that. Maddie means everything to me."
She was looking down at her hands in her lap. "I know she does. But you're missing so much of her life. And what if we have another child?" She looked at him. "I wish you'd cut back on some of this." She held her hand up. "I know you're going to say that I don't understand, or I ought to understand or something. And yes, I did go through all of this. And maybe if we'd gone through it all at the same time we wouldn't be where we are. But that's not where we are and I feel like it's put us on separate tracks."
He huffed. "It all comes back to us not being able to meet in the middle on this. That's what I think. It's like we're in some kind of standoff. It's like it's gotta be one way or the other. Your way or my way, 'cept it feels more like your way or not your way." He paused for a second. "I feel like if I give in to you, then you're happy but I'm not. And if you give in to me, then you're not happy. I can't win. So, you see why it feels like I just need to do things your way all the time?"
She shook her head. "Why do you keep saying it's one way or the other?"
"Because it is, Rayna. I think you were happy when this started, the idea of it. I got a record deal and that's great, but it's like when the reality of that started – and you should have known it would happen that way – then you don't like it. You don't want me going out trying to build a career. You want me to stay in your band and tour with you to my detriment. Just cutting a record isn't enough. You know that."
He could feel her closing up, saw it on her face. "The bottom line is that we've never really talked about all this and what the consequences are. We have a family, Deacon, and that should count for something. We're partners. Or at least we were. It just doesn't feel like that anymore." She got up then and walked out of the room, heading for the stairs. When she disappeared, he got up and went to the music room.
He didn't know how long he'd been in the music room, but he decided it wouldn't be a good idea to sleep there another night. He finished up a song he'd been working on and then closed his notebook. He got up and put away his guitar, then left the room and walked down the hall. He turned the lights out in the kitchen and den, leaving on the light over the stove, and then he turned for the stairs.
When he got to the bedroom he opened the door carefully, assuming Rayna would be asleep. He was surprised, however, to see that she was awake, reading a book. She looked up when he came in and then put the book down on her nightstand. "Hey," she said.
He walked over towards the bed. "Hey. I thought you'd be asleep."
She shrugged. "I couldn't sleep." She paused. "I thought you might stay downstairs again."
"I decided not to," he said. He walked around to his closet and got undressed down to his briefs, then pulled on a t-shirt. He came back out and pulled down the covers, sliding into bed. He hesitated, then looked at her. "So, you said earlier that you'd had not good dreams about us. What kind of dreams?"
She looked down at her hands, resting on top of the covers. "Us fighting. You walking away." She looked at him. "Are you going to walk away?"
He breathed in deeply. He didn't want to tell her that the thought had occurred to him. "I just want to figure out how we coexist."
She sighed. "I feel like you can't be gone all the time. I understand what you said about what you feel like you need to do to have this...solo career. But is that what you think or what Rita thinks?"
He picked up on the slight hesitation before she said 'solo career', as though she was devaluing it, but decided it wasn't the hill he wanted to die on. "Both actually. And, like I said, it's no different than what you did. So why would that not be what I do?"
She made a motion like a spinning wheel with her hand. "We keep having this same conversation over and over again with no resolution."
He frowned. "If we don't have no resolution, it's because you want me to do something different than what I need to do."
"And you want me to just let you leave as though you have no other obligations. Deacon, we're just not on the same path anymore. We want different things. And I truly don't know what to do about that. Do you?"
"I guess we each gotta figure out what we need and see where it leaves us." He didn't see anything productive about continuing the conversation and he reached over to turn out the light on his nightstand. Then he turned on his side facing away from her and closed his eyes.
Rayna let out a loud, aggravated sigh. Then she turned out her light as well.
Rayna
She looked up at the ceiling in the darkened room. She wanted to cry but she didn't want him to hear her. How did we get here? It's like we're strangers. She loved him. She knew he loved her, in spite of this chasm that seemed to have opened up between them. So why can't we work through this? Why is it so hard? She knew that she'd been upset when he wasn't able to start her tour, but then it seemed like everything had snowballed out of control. She wanted to be supportive of his career aspirations – I am supportive – but they weren't figuring this out together and the more they talked about it, the worse it got.
She thought again about the dream she'd had. He'd walked away. It felt like some kind of omen, a foretelling of the future. It felt like the only way she could solve this was to let him go, let him go off and spend all his time touring around the country. The same thing they had done together for so long as she was trying to get her career off the ground. It wasn't likely to be over in a year or even two. They'd be like ships passing in the night and she didn't want that. It didn't feel like there were any good answers.
She felt her throat close up as she struggled not to cry. Finally she turned on her side, facing towards him. She tentatively reached her hand out and finally placed her palm against his back. She didn't know if he was asleep or if he'd even respond to her. She hated this though, hated the distance and the awful feeling that this wouldn't end well. She slid her hand up to his bicep, first just laying it there, then tightening her grip a little. When she felt his fingers touch hers, she swallowed hard.
"Deacon, I'm scared," she whispered.
At first, he didn't say anything. "Me too," he said, finally. That didn't make her feel better. He turned over then to face her. He put his hand on her cheek, letting his thumb graze her skin. "I wish I knew the answer." He put his arm around her and pulled her closer, kissing her on the forehead. She put her arm around him, and they just laid together that way for a long time, until finally they both fell asleep.
At some point during the night they had moved apart, because when she woke the next morning she was on her side of the bed. She looked over at Deacon. He was still asleep. She quietly slid out of bed and went into her closet, changing into a pair of jeans and a long sleeved blouse. She left the room, closing the door behind her. When she checked on Maddie, her daughter was still asleep as well, so she went down to the kitchen and made coffee. While she waited for it to brew, she leaned against the island and looked over towards the den. The Christmas tree was still up and Maddie's Christmas gifts were still scattered all around the room. They would need to get all of that up to her room and out of the way.
She walked around to one of the windows that looked out over the front lawn. She could see frost on the grass and on the shrubbery close to the house. She touched the window, and it was cold, so she was sure it was chilly outside. The sun was coming out though and she could see the brightness along the driveway by the road. She crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed her arms. She'd had a dreamless night, but she decided she still must not have slept well. She felt tired and bleary, unsettled. She turned and walked back to the kitchen. The coffee was ready and she poured herself a mug. She heard footsteps on the stairs and looked over to see Deacon entering the room.
"Hey," she said. "You want some coffee?"
"Yeah, thanks." She got down another mug and poured him coffee, then handed it to him. He took a sip. "How'd you sleep?"
She lifted a shoulder. "Not sure. No dreams or anything, but I feel kind of tired still."
He walked up to her and put one hand on the back of her neck, leaning in to kiss her. "I'm sorry. I'm sure that's on me."
She shook her head. "I think we both are contributing." She sighed. "Can we just put it aside for right now? I'm so tired of fighting and feeling sad and all that. I'd like to just enjoy the rest of the time we have. At least as much as we can." She shrugged. "Maybe we just need to have some distance from it."
He nodded. "Maybe you're right." He leaned in and kissed her again. "I don't want to fight either."
She smiled. "Good. I'm glad we agree on something."
The next several days through the New Year's holiday were peaceful. It wasn't as though everything had gone back to the way it had been before Deacon started exploring a solo career, but they weren't fighting. They were able to be more affectionate with each other and even more intimate. They were polite, nothing too deep was discussed. He spent a lot of time in the music room. She had made a decision not to insert herself there, to just hope he would talk to her about what he was working on. She tried doing some writing on her own but was having some trouble with it.
Deacon had told her, from the very beginning, that songwriting was 3 chords and the truth. Songwriting came from experiences and pain and joy and life. It wasn't really until her father had kicked her out of the house that she found she had something to write about. She fell in love, she experienced abandonment, she had to work hard and sacrifice for her dreams, and she found that all of those things could be turned into songs. But now she was feeling trepidation and concern, worry about the future, worry about her future with Deacon, and she couldn't write about it. Whenever she tried, she got stuck or the places she went to wouldn't allow her to truly touch the pain and fear. She had to put out an album though. She was committed to that and so she reached out to people to schedule writing appointments and let Bucky know she was open to listening to demos. She still wanted to write on her own, but she knew she'd need to let that come organically.
For the time being though she had decided to just let herself feel the peace.
It was a week before Deacon was scheduled to leave for Memphis. He had taken Maddie out with him that day to go to the guitar store. He'd found a vintage guitar while he was out on tour that wasn't in the best shape. He'd taken it to be restored and restrung and it was ready. Maddie not only loved to see guitars, but she loved spending time with her daddy. It was always sweet to watch them together.
She had some song ideas and wanted to work on them but couldn't find her lyrics notebook. She decided she must have left it in the music room and walked back to check. They had started to put together the music room, with comfortable furniture and low slung tables, gold and platinum records on the walls along with album cover posters. It was starting to feel like a real creative space. He had worked some with a sound person to sketch out the studio part of the room and she thought that was making up for the fact that he felt ambivalent about the rest of the house. The work on the studio would actually start after he had left, so it was good that the plans were finalized.
When she got to the music room, she saw her notebook lying on the table. She walked around and sat down on the couch, picking it up. She also saw Deacon's. They typically shared everything and transferred things back and forth sometimes. Weeks earlier, he had taken a snippet of a verse she'd written and was going to work on it himself. She wondered if he'd done that, so she picked up his notebook and settled in on the couch. Their notebooks weren't off limits to each other, but she had only rarely looked at his when he wasn't around.
She flipped through to the last pages he'd written on, looking for the lyric, when she stumbled on something else.
She's a big top ten with bright spotlights
That woman sure knows how to shine
You almost can't believe your eyes
You can hardly wait to see the sight
She'll have you walkin' that high wire
Jumpin' through rings of fire
Give you a moment in the sun
Be careful not to fall in love
Cause that curtain falls
The lights go out
The show goes on
She leaves town
If you know what's good for you you'll just let her go
Or you'll end up next to me in her sideshow
She caught her breath and her chest felt tight. She swallowed hard, hot tears pricking her eyes. Is he writing about me? Is that how he sees things? It certainly wasn't something the two of them would sing or that she would sing solo, so who was he writing it for? Or was he writing with someone else? She rolled that over in her head for a second, but she didn't think that was likely. She thought it must have been something he'd written when he'd gone to the cabin by himself. He had told her he'd written several songs, so this wouldn't be the only one.
It was one of the last things in his notebook and when she turned the page back, she saw lyrics and chords from the song they'd worked on. So, it was recent. The last song they'd worked on was called Changing Ground. Not a love song, for sure. Deacon had written most of the lyrics and he'd said it was more about his journey. Her first thought was that it was his journey to sobriety, but now she wondered.
Trouble was on my tail
And he followed me like a hound
Till I moved one step
On to glory
And off of that changing ground
Changing ground
Changing ground
Changing ground
I have moved one step
On to glory
And off of that changing ground
Should she dig more deeply into the meaning of it? Surely he wouldn't write a song about moving on from her with her. And was she overthinking all of it. How many times had he told her, over the years, that a song was sometimes just a song? That sometimes it was giving voice to feelings people had, maybe years ago.
She turned the next page back and started to read.
It'd take about a million midnights
And a good long whiskey rain
It's gonna take a hurricane
The sky so blue
And I'll be just like new
It might take every inch of Texas
And the dark side of the moon
I'm gonna find a place I ain't missing you
And I'll be just like new
When the sun stops shining
When the liars quit lying
When I finally face the truth
I'll be pushing up roses
When I start getting over you
And I'll be just like new
She felt queasy. She kept flipping pages and read more lyrics that seemed to her as though they were about moving on. She knew she had to stop. She closed the notebook and tossed it back onto the table, then got up and quickly walked out of the room. She would ask him when he got home. Surely she was reading too much into it. They'd been going through a rough patch and she was extra sensitive. That had to be it. It had to be.
Deacon
She'd seemed skittish ever since he and Maddie had gotten home. He didn't want to ask about it around Maddie, but the more he watched her, the more it felt like something had changed. It made him a little apprehensive and anxious. Things had been relatively calm since before the New Year's holiday. They'd made a conscious effort to stay away from hot topics and sensitive issues. It didn't make them go away, of course, but it felt like they needed some time away from that. He'd felt closer to Rayna than he had in a while. But something had changed in the time that he'd been gone from the house. He just wondered how long it would take for Rayna to bring it up.
Rayna had taken Maddie upstairs to put her to bed. She was gone a little longer than he'd expected, but it could have been that Maddie was resistant to going to sleep or wanted one more story. She could certainly be persuasive in that respect. When she finally came back into the den, she was carrying a notebook. At first, he thought it was her writing notebook, but when she got closer he could see that it was his. He knew immediately what had happened and he decided he'd just have to be honest with her.
She sat down on the couch, her face tight. She held the notebook out to him and, after a second, he took it. "Since you were so guarded about what you'd been working on at the cabin, I couldn't help but be curious. I know we don't normally just look at each other's material, but I also didn't expect to find what I did." She paused, as though she was giving him a chance to say something, but he just waited. "I guess you really do resent me, don't you?" He was a little surprised that she went there immediately, but then decided he probably shouldn't be. They were open books to each other, figuratively if not always literally.
He cleared his throat. "That shouldn't be a surprise to you," he said.
"Maybe not. I didn't expect you to write about it though. And not just once but over and over and over." She huffed a little. "And these are the songs you're going to perform on this pre-tour thing you're doing." It was a statement, not a question.
"Among others." He set the notebook down. "What do you want me to say, Rayna? I mean, this is the stuff we been fighting about for a year. Nothing has changed in all that time. I write my truth. Just like you do."
"But I don't write about how I'm moving on or how you disappoint me or how I'm in your shadow."
He gave her a tight smile. "Probably because you ain't feeling any of those things." She looked shocked. "Rayna, it's like you haven't listened to me. Or maybe you just haven't believed me. How many different ways can I tell you that I feel like I'm in your shadow and I feel like I can't do anything that isn't what you want me to do? What did you think I would write about?" He could hear his voice getting louder and he didn't want this to become a shouting match.
She stood up then and walked over towards the fireplace, her hands on her hips. Then she turned around. "I guess I never thought you'd put this out there for the whole world to know. I would have thought you'd talk to me about it."
He shook his head and let out a bitter laugh. Then he stood up as well. "Are you kidding me? How many times have I talked to you about this? You wanna tell me that? How many times? You just don't want to hear it. I guess you just figured you'd make me feel bad enough about it that I'd give in and do it your way."
She threw her hands up in the air. "Well, clearly you aren't doing that, are you? And what about Maddie? You told me back before she was born that you'd do whatever you had to do to be in her life. To be her father. And now you're thinking about walking away from that?"
He took two steps towards her, frowning. "I ain't never said I was walking away from Maddie. I'm not. I would never do that. But there are other ways I can be in her life."
She raised her eyebrows. "Like what? If we aren't raising her together, how does that work?"
He took a deep breath, not wanting to go too far. "Like I see her when I'm in town," he said, trying to measure his tone.
She looked like she'd been slapped. At first she didn't say anything. Then she took a couple of deep breaths and focused her gaze on him. "I think you should sleep in the guest room tonight. Maybe for however long you plan to be here." Then she turned and walked away from him, up the stairs and out of sight.
He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and reached for his notebook. He held it for a moment, thinking that it had not been his intent for her to see what he'd written. However, now that she had, perhaps it would just accelerate what needed to happen.
He felt a little disoriented the next morning when he woke up, before he remembered he was in the guest room. When he'd eventually gone upstairs, he saw that Rayna had put a change of clothes on the bed, meaning there was no reason for him to come into the main bedroom. He'd laid awake for a long time, thinking about what had happened that night as well as everything that had let up to it. When he finally fell asleep it had not been a restful sleep. One thing that had stayed with him was her comments about Maddie. What about Maddie? You told me back before she was born that you'd do whatever you had to do to be in her life. To be her father. And now you're thinking about walking away from that? Of course he wouldn't walk away from Maddie. She had been such a blessing in his life.
He rubbed his face with his hands. It all felt so complicated. Rayna was the love of his life. That was still true. But living in her world wasn't easy. He sometimes thought it was all the years of her having to prop him up that made him feel so resentful now that he felt more able to do that for himself. He was 4 years sober, much longer than he'd ever managed that before. He had learned not to take it for granted and he still made sure he went to meetings and followed his program. Being sober, though, had meant that he could be a father and it had meant he could have a career he'd never have had back in the days when he was drinking. Rayna had supported him in his journey. It wasn't a small thing. But that seemed to stop when it meant not doing it her way.
Maybe I should just do it her way. Maybe I should just go back to what we been doing all these years. Except that whenever he thought about doing that he felt like he couldn't breathe, like he was suffocating. He thought that if he didn't follow his dream that he might resent her for the rest of his life. Why can't she let me have this? He didn't understand why she didn't remember how this felt for her and why it would be important for him.
He sighed, then sat up and swung his legs out from under the covers, placing his feet on the floor. He noticed his lyrics notebook on the bedside table and picked it up. He rifled through to the last few pages, reading again some of the songs he'd written while at the cabin and since he'd been home. He thought it was a little unfair of Rayna to describe the songs as being about him wanting to move on or that she had disappointed him. It was true that there were themes of frustration and hurt but also about taking new directions, which didn't necessarily mean he wanted to move on from her. They seemed to be at an impasse, though, and he had to acknowledge that if things didn't change, they could definitely be in trouble. He put the notebook down and laid back down on the bed, stretching out, his hands clasped on his chest. He had no idea what to do next. He closed his eyes, trying to empty his mind.
When he opened his eyes again, it was clear he'd dozed off. He wondered what time it was. His stomach was growling and he pushed himself off the bed. He gathered the clean clothes Rayna had left and headed for the hall bathroom. He noticed that both Maddie's bedroom door and the main bedroom door were open, which meant that Rayna and Maddie were likely downstairs. He took a quick shower and got dressed, then headed down for the kitchen.
The room was empty. "Rayna?" he called out. There was no answer. He noticed that there was coffee in the coffee maker and he poured a mug. It wasn't especially fresh, but it would do. When he turned around he noticed a sheet of paper on the island. He reached for it, sliding it over. Maddie and I are out running errands. He looked at the clock on the stove and saw that it was almost 11:00. He knew there was a meeting at noon he could attend and a place nearby where he could pick up some fresh coffee and a bagel. He went back upstairs and got his phone and then got his jacket when he got back downstairs. He scratched out a note below Rayna's, telling her he was going to a meeting, and then he walked out of the house.
He'd thought about speaking at the meeting, but he didn't. This wasn't his regular meeting, so he didn't really know the people. He wasn't much for speaking in any case, but especially not in front of people he didn't know. Besides the things on his mind were not for there. When the meeting was over, he didn't want to go home, so he went to another guitar store and spent almost 2 hours looking at what they had. He had tried out a few, concentrating on how they felt in his hands and how they sounded, but in the end, he left without one. It was too cold to sit outside anywhere, so he headed for home.
When he pulled up in the parking pad outside the kitchen door, he noticed Rayna's SUV wasn't there. He suspected she wasn't running errands but that she was at Tandy's or maybe a friend's house. If she was at Tandy's she was probably talking about him. Raging about him, was probably more accurate. He leaned against the island, looking down. I don't think I can keep doing this anymore. He felt all choked up, a lump in his throat and a pit in his stomach. It wasn't supposed to be like this, but he couldn't figure out another way. All he'd ever seemed to do was disappoint her and hurt her. He wondered if he needed to do something so that he didn't hurt her anymore.
He walked down to the music room and he waited.
When Rayna and Maddie finally came home, he spent the remainder of the afternoon with Maddie. He helped her take her Christmas haul up to her room, with plenty of time for play along the way, and then took her to the music room. He played some of his old music for her and then they sang some of her favorite songs, like The Wheels On The Bus and Itsy Bitsy Spider plus Christmas songs like Jingle Bells and Frosty the Snowman. Maddie loved to sing, even if she didn't always get the words right, and she had been over the moon about the little ukulele she'd gotten for Christmas. When she was a little older he hoped she'd want to learn to play the ukulele and eventually the guitar. He felt a little misty-eyed thinking about it.
Dinner was strained, at least between him and Rayna. Luckily Maddie was a chatterbox and talked up a storm, in between bites of the lasagna Rayna had taken out of the freezer. He put Maddie to bed, reading her as many stories as she wanted before she finally drifted off. He sat with her, watching her sleep, already missing her. When he finally went back downstairs, Rayna was sitting in the den. The kitchen was cleaned up and the only light was the one over the stove and the fire in the fireplace. When he walked around the couch and sat down, her face was mostly shadowed, but she had both her arms and legs crossed and looked tense.
He waited for her to say something, but when she didn't, he decided he should start. "Rayna, I..."
She turned to look at him and he saw the set in her jaw and a mix of anger and hurt in her eyes. "Is it over?" she asked, her voice low and calm. "Is this your line in the sand?"
That surprised him. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe. I think we need space. Time apart."
"For how long?"
"I don't know. A while." He took a deep breath. "Maybe there's not an end date. All I know is that I can't keep doing this. Not this way." He cleared his throat. "I'm gonna be out for the next couple months and then on Luke's tour this summer. I'm thinking we need to take our own paths, for now. Then see where we are."
She didn't say anything at first. He watched as she breathed in and out, seeming to be trying to center herself. "So, you're going to leave. And not come back."
It sounded so final. He swallowed hard but couldn't get rid of the huge lump in his throat. It wasn't what he wanted, but he thought maybe it was what needed to happen. "I don't know." He looked at her intently. "That what you want?"
She uncrossed her arms and dug her fingers into the couch cushion. "I don't know either, Deacon, but I think maybe you should go ahead and go. It feels like where we are. Just let me know where you end up." Then she got up and walked to the stairs. He watched until she was out of his sight and then he put his head in his hands and cried.
He hardly slept. When he had finally come upstairs, he had walked down to his and Rayna's bedroom and stood outside the door. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do, but he knew he didn't like how things had ended. It all had sounded so emotionless, which it wasn't. He put his hand on the doorknob and very gently tried to turn it, but it was locked. He turned and walked down to Maddie's bedroom. He sat in the chair facing her bed, watching her sleep. Tears rolled down his face, not just for her but for him and Rayna. He had never thought they'd end up here. He had never expected to be faced with the choice he'd felt like he had to make.
I could give it up. I could tell the label I'm done, tell Rita there was no more career to manage. I'd go back to being Rayna's bandleader, creating set lists and backing her up. I'd be on stage with her and we'd write songs together and it would be like it was. I done it for years and it was all good. But that was when I didn't think there was anything else for me. Now that I do, I gotta see where it takes me. I just never thought this is where we'd be. He felt such pain and anguish. A part of him wished Belcourt had never been at the Bluebird that fateful night. He would never have missed what he didn't know. Even now he knew it would be easier to just go back to doing what he was doing. Rayna would be happy. Maddie would be happy. And eventually he'd get over this. Except he knew he would never be able to forget not trying.
He sat in the chair in Maddie's room for a long time. When he finally got up, he knelt down on the floor beside her bed. He ran his hand gently over her arm. She twitched but didn't wake up. "I'm sorry, baby," he whispered. "But I'll see you soon. I promise." Then he had headed for the guest room.
When he finally got up, he could tell as soon as he walked out into the hall that Rayna and Maddie weren't there. The house felt silent, empty. He walked down to his and Rayna's bedroom. The bed was made, as though no one had been there. He felt tears again. He went into his closet, threw some things into a duffle bag, and then walked back out. He put the duffle bag in his truck, then went back in and packed up several of his guitars, making 2 trips to add them to the duffle bag. He went back in one final time, leaving a note.
He walked out, locked the door, got in his truck, drove out to the road, and straight to a meeting.