Honeysuckle Summer (The Sweet Magnolias #7)(85)

Torn between ignoring the behavior and trying to make him see that Carrie was still in trouble, she finally opted for what she hoped would be a bit of subtle probing that might also catch his attention. Even as she spoke, she knew she was testing the very tentative truce established between her and Carrie. She felt she had no choice. It was more important to act responsibly than to be the good guy.

“Carrie, don’t you like meat loaf?” Raylene asked. “Sullivan’s has a reputation for making the best in the entire region. It’s always been my favorite comfort food, along with their garlic mashed potatoes.”

“It’s okay,” Carrie said with a shrug. “I’m just not hungry.”

She shot a look at Carter that Raylene couldn’t interpret.

Unwilling to let the subject go, she tried another approach, trying to reach the girl on some level. “You’d probably rather be out with your friends on a Saturday night,” she suggested.

“It’s not that,” Mandy piped up as if to make up for her sister’s lack of responsiveness. “Carrie doesn’t like to eat in front of people. She’s self-conscious.”

Carrie’s head snapped around as she glared at her little sister. “You and Carter promised we wouldn’t talk about my eating tonight,” she said, her voice shrill. “You promised! I should have known you wouldn’t keep your promise.”

Mandy turned pale, her expression miserable. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want Raylene to think you were being rude.”

“Raylene knows what’s going on,” Carrie said. “It’s practically because of her that I have to see a shrink.”

“Hold on,” Carter said, scowling at her. “You know that’s not true. You’re in therapy because it’s what you need right now.”

Carrie looked to be near tears. Obviously frustrated at hearing her brother deflect any blame from Raylene, she whirled on Mandy. “I’m sick of you criticizing what I eat. Maybe you should consider sticking to a few carrots and lettuce leaves before you blow up like a blimp,” Carrie said, casting a meaningful look at the two slices of meat loaf and the mound of mashed potatoes on Mandy’s plate.

When Carter opened his mouth to scold her, Carrie snapped, “Oh, forget it. I am so out of here.”

She stood up and ran from the room. Carter turned to Raylene with an apologetic look. “I need to go after her.”

Raylene felt the salty sting of tears in her eyes. “This is my fault. I’ll go.”

He hesitated. “But—”

“She’s still in the house,” Raylene told him. “I didn’t hear the door. If she’s gone, I’ll tell you, and you can go after her.”

She found Carrie in the living room, huddled in a corner of the sofa, tears streaming down her face.

“I’m sorry,” Raylene said, sitting down beside her. “I pushed you, and I shouldn’t have. I know this is a sensitive topic and that you’re getting help. I should have left it alone.”

Carrie seemed surprised by her admission. “Why didn’t you?” she asked.

“I told you before about Annie. What I didn’t tell you was how many times I saw her do exactly what you were doing tonight, just pushing her food around, pretending to eat, and I did nothing. The night she collapsed, I felt as if it was all my fault for not doing more to make sure someone knew she was in trouble. Sarah felt the same way. So did Ty and the rest of her friends. I can’t begin to tell you how scary it was for all of us sitting at the hospital waiting to hear whether she was going to be okay.”

“So when you see me not eating, it pushes all those buttons,” Carrie concluded, looking less angry. “I guess I can see why.”

“It would break my heart if something happened to you,” Raylene told her honestly. “Especially if I could have prevented it.”

“But Carter knows. And I’m seeing Dr. McDaniels. I get that what I’ve been doing is wrong. I’ve even figured out why it was happening and I’m really trying to fix it.” She regarded Raylene with an earnest expression. “Honest.”

“I know that, and I am so proud of you for trying.”

Carrie looked away. “It’s really hard,” she said in a small voice. “Harder than I ever thought it would be. And I hate that everyone’s watching me all the time.”

“Annie hated that, too, but it all gets easier. You’ll see. And once the eating pattern really starts to change, the trust will come back. People won’t watch as much.”

“I don’t know,” Carrie said skeptically. “I saw how Dana Sue watched Annie at the barbecue, even after all this time.”

“I suppose it’s a worry that never entirely goes away, but that feeling that you’re under a microscope will get better. I promise. And you’ll start to feel like your old self, the way you did before your parents died.”

“You think so?” she asked, a faint glimmer of hope in her eyes.

“You’ve been around Annie,” Raylene said. “What do you think? Doesn’t she seem perfectly fine now?”

Carrie nodded. “She seems okay.”

“She is okay. It’s still a struggle for her from time to time, but that’s why she sees Dr. McDaniels whenever she feels herself slipping. She’s smart enough to recognize the signs and ask for the help she needs.”