Honeysuckle Summer (The Sweet Magnolias #7)(69)

To her surprise, the psychiatrist frowned.

“Is it a problem?” Raylene asked, puzzled by her reaction. “Would you rather not speak to him? Did I violate some code of ethics or something?”

“It’s not that,” Dr. McDaniels said. “I’m happy to help. What worries me is that you’re putting your own situation on the back burner to deal with his sister’s problems.”

“But this is important,” Raylene said.

“So is your recovery.”

“I’m not skipping a session,” Raylene argued. “At least not all of it. We have a few more minutes before Carter will be here.”

“Not long enough to spend the time in the garden that we’d planned,” the doctor said. “Are you sure you didn’t intentionally plan it that way?”

Raylene shook her head. “That never even crossed my mind, I swear it. In fact, I’d even offered Carrie a job spending time out there with me. The rest of this kind of came to a head after that. I saw how worried Carter was, and it seemed this would be the perfect chance for him to speak to you. The offer to let him use part of my time with you was impulsive. I’m sorry if it was the wrong thing to do.”

Dr. McDaniels didn’t look entirely convinced, but she nodded. “Okay, then, let’s see what we can accomplish before he gets here. In fact, why don’t we try going outside to wait for him. We’ll spend time in the garden next time.”

“Okay,” Raylene said. Maybe on some subconscious level she had hoped to put off an extended period outside, but maybe it was better this way. She’d have to just do it, ready or not.

She led the way to the door and grasped the handle.

“Deep breath,” Dr. McDaniels encouraged. “Don’t think about what’s next. Just open the door. Concentrate on the fact that it’s a beautiful summer day. You’ve been doing this a lot lately. It’s nothing new.”

Raylene released the latch on the door and pushed it open. So far, so good. Her palms weren’t sweating. Her breathing was steady. All she had to do was take a step and she’d be outside. It should be second nature by now, but there was always that one instant, just before she took the first step, when she wondered if she’d be able to do it.

She counted slowly, tried to time her breaths to a nice even rhythm and took that next step. Then a few more.

“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” the psychologist asked.

“I haven’t fallen apart yet, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Then keep going. Let’s cross the grass so you can wait for Carter to turn in to the driveway. Think about how pleased he’ll be to have you waiting for him. It’s only a few more feet. No big deal. And you’ll still be close to the house. I’m right here with you. You’re perfectly safe.”

Raylene swallowed hard, but she took the first step onto the grass. She couldn’t help glancing back toward the house to make sure she hadn’t strayed too far away from her sanctuary. Dr. McDaniels nodded encouragement.

“You’re doing great,” she told Raylene. “What kind of car does Carter drive?”

“A pickup,” Raylene responded, her breath catching. “A silver one.” Suddenly she couldn’t seem to get another breath. Her chest heaved. It felt as if her heart was going to pound right through her ribs. She hadn’t had a setback like this in days. Angry with herself, she forced herself to take slow, deep breaths until her breathing steadied and her heartbeat slowed.

“You’re just fine,” the doctor soothed. “You heard the sound of Carter’s truck, that’s all. See, here he is, turning in to the driveway right now.”

Carter stepped out of the truck, amazement on his face, as if he’d caught her turning somersaults down the block. “Well, look at you,” he said, grinning as he had on the day he’d discovered her on the patio. “Going for a walk, are you?”

She frowned at the hopeful note in his voice. “Hardly.”

Even so, he looked thrilled, as if he’d been waiting for a moment like this since the day they’d met. As he came around the car, a part of her wanted to run to him, but the panic stirred yet again, then took over. She was rooted in place, hyperventilating, close to passing out.

Dr. McDaniels obviously recognized the symptoms, because she moved in close and took Raylene’s arm. She must have given Carter a subtle nod, too, because he was immediately beside her, as well. They half walked, half carried her back to the house. It wasn’t more than twenty feet or so, but it seemed like miles. The psychologist murmured soothing words until they were safely inside. Raylene nearly collapsed with relief.

Carter went for water while Dr. McDaniels continued to talk to her. Slowly, Raylene’s breathing returned to normal. The panic receded and her pulse rate slowed.

“You did great,” the doctor said as Raylene sipped the water, her face flushed with embarrassment.

“You call that great? What happened? I’d been getting better. I should be past these attacks by now.”

“There will be days like this, Raylene.”

“Forever?” she asked plaintively.

“Not forever,” the psychologist assured her. “Think about what you have accomplished, not about today’s minor little setback.”