"Are you going to drink that? Because people staring at their glass for half an hour is not how I keep this place running."
The old man behind the bar looks mostly irritated and not the least sympathetic to Deacon's current struggle.
Coming here had been a stupid idea. A stupid idea of gigantic magnitude. This whole evening has been a succession of stupid ideas.
It had started when he'd driven Maddie home. Instead of walking her to the door, he'd dropped her off and he'd left. Who does that? Who drops their 10-year-old daughter off and flees? The thing is he wasn't ready to see Rayna again, and so he'd... panicked.
He'd then stopped on the side of the road to try to call his sponsor, but right after having dialed the number, he'd changed his mind and he'd hung up.
And now here he is, sitting in some shitty bar, on the verge of throwing away twenty months of sobriety. Everything good that has happened to him this past year has been thanks to his newfound sobriety, he knows that. He's finally overcome years of addiction and poor choices, and he's going to throw it all away at the first bump in the road?
In his defense, it isn't a small bump. More like an unexpected, gigantic bump. Today he learned he has a kid, and that he's missed the first ten years of her life. He's missed ten years of being a dad.
He grabs the glass waiting on the counter, raises it to his lips before he puts it back down.
No.
He won't do that.
He's come too far to let his demons gain the upper hand again.
He gets up, takes his wallet out of his pocket and throws money on the counter before he heads out of the bar. He's never been so happy to pay for a whiskey he did not drink.
—
september 1989
—
He's known her for three hours, but Deacon Claybourne can already tell that meeting Rayna Jaymes is the best thing that has ever happened to him.
They'd bumped into each other, literally bumped into each other, and some might say it was fate.
They're both nobodies here, playing the tent outside the livestock, but they're two people living their dream, and there's been some instant connection between them, some immediate bonding over music and something else he can't put into words yet.
It's funny because they both live in Nashville, but it's here at the Oklahoma State Fair they finally met.
"You were amazing," he shouts over the background noise.
She just finished her set, and after having run the few steps down the stage, she jumps into his arms. He grins as he catches her.
"Thanks!"
Most people would have answered something in the vein of, "You really think so?", but not Rayna Jaymes, she knows her worth, and it's one thing he's discovered he already loves about her. One thing among a hundred other things.
The members of her band are right behind her, looking as excited as she is. It's the post-gig high, he knows the feeling. He's met them too, and they all sound like a nice bunch of people, people who love and live for music. There's Adria, Rayna's guitar player who also happens to be her best friend. There are Sam and Josh whom Deacon believes he's seen before, probably at some party in Nashville.
He's learned they are on a small tour that will keep them on the road for another five weeks.
Deacon had played his set earlier, only him and a guitar on stage, and the four of them had stayed in the sparse crowd all the while, clapping and cheering him on.
"Want to hang around and find something to eat?" Rayna asks. "I'm starving." She turns to face her band. "I'll see you guys later?"
Deacon catches the look that passes between her and Adria.
"You two have fun," an amused Adria replies.
Rayna smirks back at her before she grabs Deacon's hand and leads him away.
—
present day
—
"Good morning, sunshine."
"For God's sake, Vince, do you know what time it is?" It's still dark outside. Who knocks on someone's door unannounced at five in the morning?
"You're kidding, right? You're the one who insisted we leave before dawn, and now you're complaining?"
Damn, that's right, they were supposed to go fishing. And he was indeed the one who'd insisted they leave early. "I'm sorry." He walks back inside as Vince follows him and closes the door behind him.
"You forgot?"
Deacon doesn't reply. "Coffee?" he deflects. He doesn't wait for an answer and gets two mugs out of the cupboard.
Vince sits down at the kitchen table and spots the contract lying on it. "Please tell me you've signed this thing already, and please tell me it's not the reason you're all grumpy."
Deacon stops what he's doing and goes to sit across from Vince at the table. "I'm not grumpy. And it's not."
Vince frowns. "You sound all dramatic now, what's going on?"
"Something... something surreal happened yesterday." Surreal doesn't even begin to cover it.
"I'm all ears."
"A 10-year-old girl showed up at my door and claimed I'm her dad."
Vince's eyes grow wide. "You're joking. You know it's the kind of shit that happens in movies, right?"
"Looks like it doesn't only happen in movies."
"And is it, I mean, is it possible?"
"It's very possible, yes." Deacon pauses. "And there's more."
"There's more?"
"She's Rayna Jaymes' daughter."
"The Rayna Jaymes?"
"Do you know more than one Rayna Jaymes?"
"Deac, it's... I don't even know what to say."
He's rendered Vince — Vince, of all people — speechless. It has to be a first. His best friend looks like he's trying to process what he's just learned when his face changes all of a sudden. Deacon knows him well enough to guess what he's going to say.
"You slept with Rayna Jaymes and you never told me?" Here they are. There's a silence, and Deacon can practically see the cogs turning in Vince's head. "Wait, you said the kid is ten? Is Rayna Jaymes... the girl? The Oklahoma State Fair girl?"
Deacon nods, and Vince gets up from his chair. He starts to pace the room like it's too much information to take at once. "So... you saw her again? Rayna?" he asks. Deacon shakes his head. "What do you mean?"
"I drove the girl home, but I didn't stay."
"You dropped the kid off and drove away? What is wrong with you?"
"Where to begin."
Deacon's been thinking about this all night. At least he didn't get drunk, and he's immensely relieved about that part, but the way he's dealt with everything else, he's not really proud of.
"Go get dressed," Vince instructs.
"What?"
"We're going fishing."
"You're serious?"
"Unless you'd planned to do the right thing and go see Rayna this morning?"
"No, but—"
"Then we're going fishing. And we're going to talk. And we're going to come up with a plan for you to deal with all this."
—
TBC
