Sherryl Woods - Honeysuckle Summer

Presented with the opportunity, Carter laid out his concerns for the man seated opposite him. As he talked, though, Travis’s expression turned increasingly indignant.

“Nobody loves those kids or is more protective of them than Raylene,” he told Carter. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“She didn’t do much to keep Tommy safe yesterday afternoon, now, did she?” Carter said. “I didn’t see her combing the streets to find him. No, indeed, she stood right there on the front steps and waited for everyone else to get the job done.”

Travis leveled a hard look at him that gave him pause. “I thought folks in police work were supposed to wait till the evidence was in before jumping to conclusions.”

“I saw all the evidence I needed to see,” Carter insisted, refusing to back down. “It was plain as day what happened. She didn’t take her responsibility seriously, and Tommy wandered off and could have gotten himself run over or kidnapped or who knows what. I’d think you’d be as concerned about that as I am.”

Despite the dire picture Carter painted, Travis didn’t back down. “Did you notice that even after Tommy came home, Raylene never left that front stoop?”

“Probably too guilt-ridden,” Carter assessed, dismissing the odd behavior that, frankly, hadn’t struck him at the time as anything other than a complete lack of caring. “Or scared I was going to arrest her on the spot.”

“No, it’s because she couldn’t,” Travis said, heat in his voice. “She has something called agoraphobia, at least that’s what Sarah and Annie think. Hasn’t left the house but once or twice since she moved in and that was well over a year ago, after she arrived here all battered and bruised from her abusive husband. Just think about that for a minute, why don’t you?”

He leaned in closer to hammer his point home without raising his voice. “That front stoop is as far as Raylene can make herself go without having a full-blown panic attack. When she phoned me yesterday, right after calling the sheriff’s office, she’d made it to the sidewalk and was beside herself that she couldn’t take another step. In fact, she was so guilt-ridden, she wanted to move out so the kids would never be at risk again.”

“Maybe she should,” Carter said, though he was beginning to see another side to the story, one he wasn’t quite ready to believe.

Travis’s scowl deepened. “Not happening,” he said emphatically. “For the record, she’s not the babysitter. In fact, she’s the one who insisted we hire someone else to look after the kids because of her panic attacks. She was only alone with them yesterday because Laurie ran to the store for a few minutes.”

Carter had heard of that kind of phobia, but he’d never run across anyone who suffered from it. Agoraphobia had always struck him as some sort of psycho-babble explanation people used as an excuse to avoid things they didn’t want to do. Given how seriously Travis seemed to be taking it in Raylene’s case, maybe he’d been wrong.

Still regarding Travis with skepticism, he said, “Honest to God? You’re sure she’s got a real problem?”

Travis nodded, then slid out of the booth, leaving his menu untouched. Apparently he’d lost his appetite.

“Next time you might want to do a little more investigating before making judgments,” Travis suggested mildly. “People in this town don’t take kindly to newcomers talking trash about one of our own. If you’re going to do any good in this community, you’d do well to remember that.”

He walked away and left Carter feeling like a jerk. Okay, maybe he’d been well intentioned, but he sure as hell hadn’t been fully informed, just the way Travis said. It was a good lesson for him. To his surprise, he realized that even though he hadn’t made a single accusation to Raylene’s face, he felt as if he owed her an apology.

And one of these days, when he’d managed to swallow his pride, he’d have to deliver it in person.

Walter dropped by Sarah’s house on his lunch hour. He’d seen the guilt in Raylene’s eyes the day before, and it had gotten to him. He might not be the most sensitive guy on the face of the earth, but somehow he felt connected to her. They’d both been down some bumpy roads and were still struggling to find their way.

During all the time his relationship with Sarah and his kids had been on shaky ground, Raylene had bridged the gap. She’d talked to him in her frank, un-censored way and made him see his own flaws. If things were better now between him and his ex-wife, it was at least in part due to Raylene. He didn’t want to see her worrying herself sick over what had happened, and he knew, without a doubt, that she would be.

“Did you stop by to make sure the kids are safe?” she asked when he walked into the kitchen.

Walter frowned at her. “Never any question about that, and you know it. Now stop beating yourself up over what happened.”

She regarded him with surprise. “Sarah told me you weren’t mad at me, but I didn’t entirely believe her.”

“Didn’t I tell you the same thing when I was here last night?”

“I thought maybe you’d have second thoughts once you’d had time to reflect about what happened.”

“Well, I didn’t, which is exactly why I’m here again today. I wanted to be sure you knew I don’t blame you.” He grinned at her. “And since I’m giving up my lunch break to come over here, how about fixing me one of those fancy salads of yours? I’m gaining too much weight living on burgers from Wharton’s and pizza from Rosalina’s.”

“Isn’t it way past time for you to find your own place and fix your own lunches?” Raylene said, though she immediately pulled lettuce, tomatoes and other ingredients from the refrigerator. “Now that you know it’s going to work out selling ads for the radio station, it’s time, Walter. The kids need a real bedroom so they can spend the night with you. Nice as it is, the inn’s no place for them for more than an hour or two.”

He shrugged. “I’ve gotten used to the inn. They’ve given me a decent monthly rate, and there’s no housekeeping or upkeep.”

Raylene shook her head. “You are downright pitiful. You spent way too many years being waited on, didn’t you?”

He grinned unrepentantly. “Probably. The truth is, though, that I haven’t had ten minutes to string together to go house hunting, much less enough money put aside for a down payment,” he said. “The house in Alabama still hasn’t sold because the real estate market over there sucks. It’s a mill town and people are losing their jobs. Their homes are going into foreclosure. The market’s glutted, but I did finally get a solid lead on a buyer last week.”

“Well, then, it’s time to start looking here,” Raylene said optimistically.

“Not until the deal’s closed,” Walter insisted. “Too many things could go wrong. I can’t just rely on what I’m making at the station. The pay’s not that great. Travis is working on getting approval for a stronger signal for the station. If that comes through, then I’m going to be on the road even more driving to all the new towns our signal will reach. It’ll mean more money, though.”

“You’re just full of excuses, aren’t you?” Raylene commented. “Think about this. Being on the road more is all the more reason to find a comfortable home to come back to.” She set a bowl in front of him, then handed him a light dressing. Her expression dared him to ask for his preferred blue cheese.

Walter took the vinaigrette with a sigh. “You can be such a nag. Worse, you don’t even have to say a word.”

“You’re the one who was complaining about gaining weight,” she reminded him. “Now, about the house. Why don’t you call Rory Sue Lewis. She’s working with her mother now. Tell her what you want and let her do all the legwork. Then give her an hour and see what she’s come up with. I’ll bet she can help you figure out financing, too. At the least she can make the sale contingent on selling the house in Alabama, so you won’t have that worry hanging over you. You won’t be on the hook unless the money’s there.”