Sherryl Woods - Honeysuckle Summer

“I tried a couple of times. It was horrible. I’d get to the car and start shaking so badly that Sarah and Annie practically had to carry me back inside.”

“What do you think is going to happen if you leave the house?”

“I know it’s irrational since my ex-husband is still in jail, but I think he’s going to be there, waiting. I tell myself over and over that there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore, but I still can’t take that next step. I always thought I was pretty strong, but this has me beat.”

“Why haven’t you asked for help before?”

“I guess I felt ashamed because I couldn’t conquer this on my own. Like I said, I knew my reaction was irrational, but the fear was there just the same.” She took a deep breath, then admitted what she’d never told Sarah or Annie. “And I think I was punishing myself.”

“Because you hadn’t protected your baby?” Dr. McDaniels said at once.

Raylene nodded.

“If you can see that much, then you’ve made more progress than you realize. You understand the underlying causes of your problem. Now we just have to get busy and see what works so we can fix it.”

She said it so optimistically that Raylene took heart. “You make it sound so simple.”

“I didn’t say it was going to be simple or easy,” Dr. McDaniels cautioned. “There could be a lot of trial and error and a lot of setbacks before we get it right. Have you tried any medications?”

“None. I thought I could figure it out, you know, with some kind of mind-over-matter thing.”

“But you weren’t figuring it out.”

“I gave up,” she admitted. “I felt safe here.”

“And now? What’s changed?”

“I told you on the phone about letting Tommy slip away from the house. Not being able to go after him was the final straw. Even though Sarah and Travis said they understood and forgave me, I haven’t been able to shake the image of what could have happened.”

“So, you want to change to protect the kids?”

Raylene heard a faint hint of criticism in the question. “You think I should want it for myself.”

“Yes, I do,” Dr. McDaniels said, though not unkindly. “Despite what your ex-husband tried to make you believe, you deserve to have a full life. You have to want that for yourself. I won’t kid you, you’re not going to conquer this overnight. You’ll need a powerful motivation to deal with all the setbacks that might happen along the way.”

“Do you think the medication will help?”

“It may. I’ll consult with your physician—”

“I don’t have one here,” Raylene told her.

“Then I’ll call a colleague of mine. We’ll give medication a try. Even so, I have to be realistic. I can’t promise you a quick fix, Raylene, not to correct a pattern that’s gone on this long. Panic disorder can be complicated, especially when the fear is grounded in a traumatic incident. In your case, it’s not even one incident, but years of living in fear.”

Even though she’d expected that, Raylene felt a fresh batch of tears welling up. On some level she’d hoped Dr. McDaniels could snap her fingers, give her a few pills and the whole problem would vanish. She’d be able to live a normal life again.

“What if nothing works?” she asked, swiping angrily at the tears. It was as if she’d had a fresh start dangled in front of her then snatched away. Even though she told herself that fighting to get better was important, no matter how long it took, she’d obviously hoped for a miracle.

“Don’t be discouraged,” the psychologist said, correctly gauging her mood. “Something will work. I’m not a quitter, and something tells me you aren’t, either.”

“I don’t know how you can say that. I gave up a long time ago.”

“No, you didn’t seek help, and now you have. It’s always better late than never.” She pulled out her cell phone and made a call, apparently to the colleague she’d mentioned. After consulting for a couple of minutes, she nodded and thanked him. “He’s going to call a prescription in to Wharton’s. Someone will deliver it this afternoon. It’s an anti-anxiety medication, a relatively mild dose. We’ll give it a couple of days, then I’ll come back and we’ll try a few experiments.”

Raylene regarded her with suspicion. “Experiments?”

“See if we can get you down those front steps. If you can, so much the better. If you can’t, I’ll have an even better idea of what we’re dealing with.”

Raylene couldn’t imagine a drug on earth powerful enough to accomplish that. “I don’t know—” she began, only to have the doctor cut her off.

“It’s just the beginning, Raylene. We’ll pray for an instant cure, but we’ll work however long it takes to make it happen. The good news is that we know what’s behind the fear. For some people we don’t even have that as a starting point.”

“Okay, then,” Raylene said, her spirits bolstered slightly by the doctor’s quiet confidence.

Dr. McDaniels gave her hand a squeeze. “I’ll say it again, as often as you need to hear it—don’t be discouraged. Every recovery starts with a single step. Just look at Annie and how well she’s doing these days, then think about where we began with her. Today, you’ve taken your first step. On Friday, you’ll take your next one.” She consulted her appointment book. “Is this same time okay for you?”

“It’s fine.” Raylene chuckled. “It’s not as if I’m going anywhere.”

“But you will be,” Dr. McDaniels said. “I promise.”

When she was gone, Raylene stared after her, surprised by the sensation spreading through her. It felt a lot like hope.

She hadn’t felt anything like it since the day she’d shown up in Annie’s office and her friend had told her everything was going to be okay. After years of distrusting the person closest to her, it had been a wonder to finally believe in someone again.

Walter had his notes from the day’s sales calls spread out on a table at Rosalina’s. A half-eaten pepperoni pizza, which he’d pay for with indigestion in a couple of hours, was pushed to one side, and his second beer sat on the table untouched. He didn’t even know why he’d ordered it beyond wanting an excuse not to head back to his room at the Serenity Inn just yet.

When a shadow fell across the table, he glanced up expecting to see the waitress with his check. Instead, he found a woman wearing a halter top, short shorts and a friendly grin. She didn’t wait for an invitation, but slid into the booth opposite him.

“You’re Walter Price, right?” she said.

“I am.”

“Raylene nailed the description,” she said, looking impressed. “For a woman who doesn’t get out, she sure does know the hottest men in town.”

Walter held back a sigh of resignation. “You must be Rory Sue Lewis.”

She looked surprised. “How’d you know?”

“Raylene mentioned you. I figured sooner or later you’d turn up, whether I came looking for you or not.”

“Yeah, she’s matchmaking,” Rory Sue said without a hint of dismay. “But she also said you might be looking for a house or a condo. I could probably live without the meddling, but I never turn my back on a solid real estate lead. That’s one thing I learned from my mom.” She studied him intently. “So, are you? Looking for some property, I mean?”

“First tell me how you knew I’d be here tonight. I assume this isn’t a chance encounter.”

“Raylene said you always eat either here or at Wharton’s around six-thirty. Since I was in the mood for pizza myself, I started here.”

Walter chuckled at Raylene’s audacity in setting this up without clearing it with him, and in her apt description of Rory Sue’s methodology. “Okay, yes, I’d like to find a place to buy. I don’t have time to do a lot of looking, but if the right thing came along, I’d be interested,” he admitted. “Did she explain that I’m waiting for a deal to come through on my house in Alabama?”