Honeysuckle Summer (The Sweet Magnolias #7)(42)

“There’s…something,” he said eventually. “I don’t know that I have a name for it.”

“Well, figure it out before it goes too far and you wind up getting hurt.”

“You don’t think I’ll be the one hurting her?”

“Honestly, no. Rory Sue’s a lot like her mother. She’s a barracuda when it comes to men. Despite all the many reasons I had to hate you when you were married to Sarah, at heart you’re a decent guy. I’ve come to appreciate your better qualities. It might be a stretch to expect Rory Sue to see them.”

“Need I remind you that you’re the one who put this whole thing into motion?”

“I expected you to have a fling, not to get all tied up in knots over her. I’m afraid I misjudged your fling capacity.”

Walter chuckled. “Yeah, I have a feeling I missed the boat on that, too.”

Raylene’s gaze narrowed. “Please tell me you’re not in love with her.”

“I slept with her once. Even I know that’s not love.”

“Then what is it?”

“When I come up with a definition, I’ll let you know. In the meantime, as a favor to me, try to reach out to her. Maybe invite her over for this shindig on the Fourth. That’s not just for Sweet Magnolias, is it?”

“No. I can do that, if you’re sure you want me to.”

“Why wouldn’t I want you to? It was my idea.”

“Have you considered how much fun it will be to have me and Sarah putting the relationship under a microscope?”

“I’ll just consider it penance for all the mistakes I’ve ever made, especially since I know you’ll both keep your opinions to yourselves.”

“In what universe?” Raylene retorted.

Walter sighed. “I can always hope.”

And if it gave Rory Sue the opportunity to find a few friends she could count on, any grief he had to put up with would be worth it. Maybe, though, what he was really doing was putting her to the test. If Rory Sue’s life was both busy and fulfilling, would she still have any room in it for him?

Just asking himself a question like that came as a shock to Walter. After all the hits he’d taken about destroying Sarah’s self-confidence, it was startling to realize the impact the divorce had apparently had on his.





10




With the Fourth of July picnic rapidly approaching, Raylene decided it was time to really push herself to take bigger strides to overcome her panic over leaving the house. She’d been strong enough to survive her marriage—surely she could stay outside longer than a couple of minutes without falling apart!

What if, she asked herself, she’d been cutting the excursions so short because she was afraid of humiliating herself in front of someone? Even though the psychologist and Sarah were definitely on her side and understood her problem, that didn’t mean she wanted to be embarrassed by coming unglued.

When she really thought about her slow progress, she decided that going toward the street was probably a bad idea, as well. Out there lay too much uncertainty. Anyone could happen by.

Maybe she ought to be trying to get to the more secluded patio. For a brief time she’d felt safe out there. Maybe that goal would be easier to conquer, and she’d be able to surprise everyone by joining them out there on the Fourth.

She sighed. So many maybes and uncertainties. The only way she’d ever know for sure would be to try.

She waited until an afternoon when she was alone. Sarah was still at work, and Laurie had taken the kids to the park. Walter had come for lunch and gone. No one else was expected.

For fifteen minutes—she watched each minute tick by on the clock over the stove—she sat at the kitchen table and did all the relaxation exercises Dr. McDaniels had taught her.

When she felt calm and in control, she went to the door and opened it, then put her hand on the screen door and drew in a deep breath. She thought about how much she wanted to keep a close eye on Carrie at the party, something she wouldn’t be able to do if she was stuck inside the house. That goal got her to take her first step outside.

“I can do this,” she murmured to herself as she took a few more steps. “It’s perfectly safe out here. I only have to stay for two minutes, if that’s all I can do. I don’t have to stay if it doesn’t feel right.”

She walked to the edge of the garden, then paused and glanced around. There wasn’t a soul in sight. The sun was bright, the sky clear. It couldn’t have been a more perfect day to venture outside. The brightly colored flowers in her garden—the flowers she’d never touched—were beckoning. She bent down and pulled a couple of stray weeds, feeling a sense of accomplishment even over mastering such a small task.

Glancing at her watch, she realized she’d only been outside for a minute, maybe two. So far, though, so good. Maybe she could sit for a minute and enjoy the breeze and fresh air.

Heart pounding, she crossed to the patio itself. As she neared one of the comfortably cushioned chairs, she broke into a cold sweat. In an instant, she was hyperventilating so badly, she thought she might pass out, but she managed to get a death grip on the back of a chair and steadied herself. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe evenly, consciously trying to calm her nerves.

And then she heard a sound, no more than the rustle of leaves in a breeze, she thought, but it was enough to terrify her. Panic, never far away, crawled up the back of her throat. She stood where she was, frozen in place, tears streaming down her face. The kitchen—her safe haven—seemed a thousand miles away. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to take the first step to get there.