When she remained silent, Helen gave her a sympathetic look. “I thought so,” she said, no trace of triumph in her voice. “You obviously need time just as badly as he does, though for different reasons.”
All six women in the room started talking at once, arguing the validity of Helen’s analysis. The noise was giving Raylene a headache. Since they were so busy debating with each other, she slipped from the room, retreating to the kitchen.
No sooner had she flipped on the light than there was a tap on the door that scared her half to death. She saw Carter standing there. Even with only the glow of moonlight illuminating him, she could see how exhausted he looked. Right this second, despite everything that had happened earlier, she was surprisingly glad to see him.
“I saw you had company, so I came around back, hoping to catch you alone for a second,” he said. “I won’t stay.”
“It’s okay. They’re in there debating just how insane I was for breaking up with you,” she admitted, her expression rueful.
He looked startled at first, then amused. “Any consensus?”
She met his gaze. “My opinion’s the only one that counts.”
“And?”
“I still think it was the right decision, but I don’t think I was entirely honest with you. Could we talk about it some more, when you have some time?”
“Then you’re not closing the door on us, after all?” he asked hopefully.
“I’m leaving it ajar,” she confirmed. “Just a crack.”
He gave a nod of satisfaction. “That’ll do for now.” He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “I’ll be by again first chance I get.”
“I’m sure I’ll be here,” she said wryly.
After he’d gone, she leaned against the door and sighed. The fact that he’d come over, even braved dealing with a houseful of Sweet Magnolias to try to make things right, told her just how deep his commitment to her ran.
Now, as Helen had guessed, Raylene needed to determine if hers was strong enough to withstand all the odds against them or if she’d been the one who’d been looking for an easy way out of a relationship she wanted, but was too scared to fight for.
18
It was nearly a week before Carter found time in his schedule to plan a visit to Raylene. He called every chance he got, relieved to find that their conversations, though brief, were as friendly as they’d always been. Whatever had been going on with her the other day seemed to have passed, or she was getting better at disguising her feelings.
On Friday, he was working an early shift, which meant he got off midafternoon. Carrie was working at Wharton’s, which she’d opted to do after her falling-out with Raylene. Mandy had gone swimming at a friend’s house. He had at least a couple of hours to himself before he needed to be home to supervise dinner.
He took time to shower and put on jeans and a freshly ironed shirt before going to see Raylene. He even used a bit of the aftershave Mandy had given him for his birthday, then rolled his eyes at his own behavior. He was acting like a kid going on his first date, trying to make a good impression. Surely he and Raylene were past that stage. He was pretty sure the issue at this point wasn’t whether they cared, but whether it was enough to overcome all the obstacles each of them were facing.
As proof that his efforts had been a bit over the top, Raylene sniffed the air when he walked into the kitchen, then smiled knowingly.
“Are you trying to impress someone?” she asked.
“You, as a matter of fact.”
“Well, consider my socks knocked off,” she said lightly. “Can I get you something to drink?”
He glanced at her bare feet with the very sexy red toenails and grinned. “Boy, I must be good.”
“As if you didn’t know that,” she said. “A drink? Did you want something?”
“Sweet tea will do,” he said.
She poured two glasses. “Shall we sit in here or in the living room?” She took a deep breath, then said, “Or we could sit on the patio. Thanks to Mandy’s company I’ve been out there every day recently.”
Carter regarded her with surprise. “She didn’t say a word.”
“I think she’s become very protective of me and she understands from Dr. McDaniels that pressure doesn’t help. You counting on my improvement would add pressure.”
“Would you rather stay in, then?”
“I actually think I’d like to show off. Let’s go outside.”
“Can I sit next to you on the glider?” he asked hopefully.
“If you want to,” she said, then arched a brow. “Are you hoping to take advantage of me, Carter?”
He studied her expression, startled by her teasing. “You’re in a very odd mood this afternoon. Did your session with Dr. McDaniels go especially well today?”
She shook her head. “About the same.”
“Was there some other news?”
“Nope. I just woke up feeling particularly cheerful, and nothing’s happened so far to ruin my mood.”
He grinned. “I sense a warning in there.”
“Not at all.”
She stepped confidently outside and took a seat on the glider. Carter hesitated, then sat down right beside her. “Okay?”
“Sure.”
He considered just going with this unexpected mood of hers and seeing where the afternoon took them, but he wasn’t the kind of man who liked putting off confrontations when they were inevitable. “I thought we should talk about what happened the other day,” he said eventually.
“We probably should,” she agreed, then met his gaze. “I’m really sorry if it seemed that I was dumping you just to get even with you. I really did understand why you needed to pull back so you’d have more time for Carrie. The truth is, I thought I needed some space for myself to focus on my own recovery without the pressure of wanting to be normal for you.”
Carter had suspected—maybe even hoped—it was something like that. “I can understand why you might have been feeling rushed, but I swear I never meant to put pressure on you.”
“You haven’t,” she said candidly. “I’ve been putting it on myself, partly because I worry that you’re too good to be true.”
“Me? In what way?”
“You’ve been incredibly patient. Most men aren’t. I worry that you’ll get tired of it.”
“Never.”
“There’s more,” she told him. “I think I magnify every failure because it means I’m no closer to the goal of being the kind of woman who’s right for you.”
“But you are right for me,” he protested.
“Not the way I am now,” she insisted stubbornly. “Come on. You already have Carrie to worry about. It’s not fair to ask you to take on my problems, too.”
“But look at how much better you are already,” he said, gesturing around at the garden to remind her of how far she’d come, quite literally.
“The fact that I can sit outside with you is enough?” she asked skeptically.
He reached for her, then pulled back. “Don’t you know how much I count on you? That’s what matters.”
“But when it came to Carrie, you said you needed to handle it as a family.”
He sighed. He’d known that off-the-cuff comment was going to come back to bite him in the butt. “I never meant to shut you out or to imply that we don’t need you.”
“But that’s how I felt, excluded and unable to contribute anything to Carrie’s recovery.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s so frustrating to me not to be able to be there for her, to be there for all of you.”
“But you have been there for all of us,” he said, mystified by her determination to minimize her role in their lives. “Right now, this time you’re spending with Mandy is as good for her as it apparently has been for you. With so much attention focused on Carrie, it would be easy for Mandy to feel neglected. That’s one less thing I need to worry about right now. Can’t you see how you’ve stepped in and taken up the slack?”
“Absolutely. Mandy needs a woman in her life right now, not that anyone can replace her mother, but just to give her a woman’s perspective on things. You’re providing that. I know you’d do the same for Carrie, if she weren’t being so stubborn.”
“I just feel as if I should be doing more, that you need a real partner.”
“And I feel as if I have one,” he said firmly.
“But Carrie needs the kind of attention I can’t give her because I can’t meet her on her own turf. She hasn’t been back over here since that day we fought. She won’t take my calls.” She held up a hand when he would have interrupted. “And that’s okay. She feels what she feels. But anyone else would have been able to go directly to her by now and make things right. Don’t you see? I’m the grown-up. It’s up to me to fix this and I can’t do it because I’m locked away in this house.”
“All I see is that you’re beating yourself up for something that’s not your fault. Carrie’s not your responsibility. She’s my problem, not yours.”
Raylene looked as if he’d slapped her. He knew at once that he’d said exactly the wrong thing…again. This time, though, he rushed to correct his mistake.
“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, as if you aren’t important. You are.”
“I understood exactly what you were saying,” she said. “And you confirmed my point, that you have to protect poor Raylene from having to deal with the tough stuff.”
“I did not say that,” he said, thoroughly frustrated at having the conversation veer wildly offtrack again.
“You might as well have. I think you should go now.”
“We’re not finished talking about this.”
“I am,” she said quietly, standing up. “I’m sorry, Carter. My instincts were right. We’re not good for each other right now. Maybe that will change down the road, but right now, it’s best if we go our separate ways and deal with our own problems.”
“Dammit all, Raylene, this is crazy,” he protested.
“Haven’t you heard? I am crazy.”
“Oh, for pete’s sake, you are not crazy,” he said impatiently. “No one, least of all me, thinks that. You are, however, the most stubborn, ornery woman with whom I’ve ever crossed paths.”
“How flattering,” she said sarcastically.
He was so outraged that things between them were going to end like this that he impulsively pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Normally he would never have grabbed her like that, but he was too far past frustrated to think straight.
She went perfectly still for the space of a heartbeat, clearly shocked by the kiss, then she started to struggle. The instant he realized that the whimper in her throat was fear, not pleasure, he released her and muttered a curse directed at himself. He dragged a hand through his hair as he looked into her panicked eyes. Though he wanted to reach for her, he kept his arms at his sides.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, his tone filled with self-disgust. “I didn’t stop to think what a sudden move like that would do to you. I was just trying to get through to you how much I care about you.”
Though she’d wrapped her arms around herself to stop herself from shaking, she nodded. “I know that.” She met his gaze, her expression filled with weariness. “Can you see now why this is never going to work? I can’t even respond to a kiss the way I should.”
“Don’t say never,” he pleaded. “I’ll give you time, if that’s what you want, but don’t say you’ll never be ready to try again.”
“Carter, it’s hopeless,” she said, sounding utterly defeated.
“I refuse to accept that.”
Her lips curved slightly. “Now who’s being stubborn?”
He managed to pull a carefree grin from somewhere deep inside. “Which makes us a perfect match, if you ask me.”
He walked her to the door, then waited until she’d stepped inside. “I’ll be in touch, Raylene. We’re not over.”
But as he walked slowly back to his car, thinking about just how badly the afternoon had gone, he couldn’t help wondering if he wasn’t deluding himself.
Raylene was a wreck. She hadn’t slept a wink all night, so she was in no mood to spend an hour with Dr. McDaniels rehashing her marriage or even talking about the mess her relationship with Carter was in.
For just one second when he’d kissed her the day before, she’d let herself feel all the emotion and desperation that he’d poured into that kiss. She’d experienced once-familiar sensations…joy, yearning, passion. Oh, how she wanted all that! It had felt almost within her grasp.
And then fear had crowded out all those normal responses. It wasn’t Carter, the man she trusted, holding her. It was another man, whose grasp had been meant to intimidate and hurt. God, was she never going to get past what Paul had done to her?
“You look exhausted,” Dr. McDaniels said when she arrived. “Is everything okay?”
“In my life?” Raylene asked bitterly. “Please. Nothing is okay.”
“Tell me about it,” the psychologist suggested in the patient, cajoling tone that scraped Raylene’s last nerve.
“Why bother?”
“Because if we don’t get to the bottom of things, you’re not going to get better.”
“I am better,” Raylene contradicted, choosing to focus on her recent strides for a change. Maybe she’d come as far as she could.
The doctor lifted a brow. “You’re content to sit on the patio? That’s not the life you told me you wanted.”
Raylene sighed. “No, it’s not,” she agreed.
“Okay, then. Let’s get busy. We’ll try a new approach today,” Dr. McDaniels suggested. “There’s something we’ve never really discussed. Why don’t you tell me about your mother.”
“How very Freudian,” Raylene responded. “Are we going to start blaming everything that’s gone wrong in my life on my parents now? Come on. We both know Paul is responsible for this mess.”
“He’s certainly responsible for the abuse,” the psychologist agreed. “But maybe not for how you’ve handled it.”
Despite her doubts, Raylene couldn’t help being intrigued by the theory. “Meaning?”
“First, humor me. Tell me about your mother. You’ve mentioned she wasn’t supportive when you told her about the abuse, but before that. Was she a good mother? A loving person you could turn to with your problems?”
Raylene had to stop and actually think about the questions. All she could recall was how bitterly her mother had complained for years about being stuck in a nothing little town like Serenity. Compared to Dana Sue, who’d welcomed all of Annie’s friends with warmth, Raylene’s mother hadn’t much wanted anyone around. She’d deliberately isolated herself from most people in town.
“Not really,” she said slowly. “She was fairly self-absorbed. She was miserable with my dad, who was a great guy whose only flaw as far as I could see was that he wouldn’t give in and move to Charleston. My mother hated it here.”
“Why didn’t they divorce?”
“To be honest, I have no idea,” Raylene admitted. “I’m sure they’d have been happier if they had.”
“You never asked your mother about that? Or your dad?”
“No, I think I was always too scared that they would get a divorce. I loved my dad. I was afraid if my mother left him, I’d have to go with her to Charleston.”
“And yet, in the end, that’s exactly where you did go.”
Raylene had never looked at it like that, as if she’d chosen the path her mother wanted but couldn’t have. Ironically, it had been her decision to marry Paul and live in Charleston that had finally allowed her mother to get her way. Her father had agreed to retire and move there, as well. He’d wanted to be there for the grandchildren he’d hoped would come along someday.
“What was it like growing up with a mother who made it so plain she didn’t want to be here, who diminished a world where I assume you were ha
ppy?”
Raylene thought back to her childhood. What she remembered most was the tension. It never ended. She could barely recall a time when she’d heard her parents teasing each other or laughing. Instead, there’d been either cold silence or heated fighting. She’d walked on eggshells around them, trying not to make things worse. The only times she’d relaxed had been when she was at school or with Sarah and Annie.
“It was scary,” Raylene said. “I never knew what to expect. The only time I can remember being really happy was when my dad would take me places. We went to Myrtle Beach once and to Walt Disney World another time.”
Dr. McDaniels, usually so good at maintaining a neutral facade, looked startled. “Just you and your dad? Your mother didn’t go?”
Even Raylene was surprised when she realized the oddity of what she’d said. “No, she didn’t go with us.”
“What about trips to see your grandparents? Did she go on those?”
“My grandparents usually came here,” she recalled, beginning to see a pattern she’d never even noticed as a child.
“Raylene, is it possible your mother was agoraphobic?”
The significance of the question stunned her, but even as the words registered, she knew it was entirely possible based on what she’d learned about the panic disorder. Other than maybe her first couple of years in school, when her mother had walked with her to kindergarten and first grade, she couldn’t recall a single occasion when they’d gone anywhere together, not to Wharton’s, or dinner, or a movie. Nowhere.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “You could be right.”
“And if I am, then doesn’t it make sense that when confronted with a situation like your abuse, you’ve reacted in a way that seemed perfectly normal and familiar to you? You shut yourself inside.”
“But she did move to Charleston,” Raylene said.
“Did she start going out once she was there?”
“Some,” Raylene recalled. “Not so much at first, but after a while, yes.”
“Then perhaps, because she was finally where she thought she belonged, she stopped punishing your father by closing herself off from the world.”
Honeysuckle Summer Page 24
