Honeysuckle Summer

“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?”

“She filled me in. We can work around that. If you can spare a few minutes now to tell me what you’d like, I’ll line up the perfect places and have you all moved in by this time next month.” She eyed the remaining pizza. “Hey, are you going to eat the rest of this?”

“Help yourself.” He beckoned the waitress, then asked Rory Sue, “What would you like to drink?”

“A diet cola will do,” she said, already biting into the first slice of pizza. She sighed with undisguised pleasure. “I only allow myself to eat this once a month. It’s way too fattening otherwise.”

“I’ve noticed,” Walter said, thinking of his own expanding waistline. Maybe he would take Ronnie Sullivan up on his invitation to join him, Cal Maddox, Tom McDonald and some of the other men in town to shoot hoops sometime.

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with your body,” she said, giving him a frank survey. “I did mention you’re hot, didn’t I?”

Walter had been hearing some variation of that since high school. It no longer had the power to seduce him. He’d realized how little looks mattered. He’d prefer it these days if someone told him he was living his life with integrity.

“Is that part of your sales spiel?” he asked Rory Sue.

“Nope, just an observation. I pretty much say what’s on my mind.”

“I imagine that gets you into trouble from time to time.”

“Not so much with men,” she said candidly. “They seem to appreciate knowing where they stand with me. I don’t have a lot of women friends, though.”

“Not even Raylene?”

“Not really. She, Annie and Sarah are tight, but I’m a couple of years younger.” She gave him a chagrined look. “And then there was a bit of a misunderstanding when Sarah thought I was after Travis.”

Walter was finding the conversation more intriguing by the minute. “Were you?”

“Sure,” she said with a shrug. “What woman with a libido wouldn’t have been, but he only had eyes for Sarah.” She winced, then added, “Sorry. See what I mean? I say whatever comes into my head. I didn’t think about the fact that Sarah’s your ex-wife. Does it bother you that she and Travis are together?”

Walter didn’t think the situation called for an in-depth discussion of his very complicated feelings on that subject. “My marriage was over a long time ago,” he said, and left it at that.

She regarded him skeptically. “There’s an edge in your voice that tells me you’re not as happy about that as you’d like everyone to believe.”

Surprised that she was that astute, he decided he shouldn’t sell her short again. “The situation is what it is. I thought we were going to talk about real estate.”

Rory Sue immediately sat up straighter, displaying an intriguing amount of cleavage, especially when she leaned forward and reached for a piece of paper from his notepad. “You mind?” she asked, also borrowing his pen. “Okay, let’s get started. Describe the perfect house.”

Walter thought of the large colonial he and Sarah had lived in back in Alabama. It had been chosen by his mother, mostly because it was the largest house in the most impressive neighborhood in town. He’d never felt comfortable there. Nor had Sarah, though she’d done her best to make the echoing, too-large rooms seem cozy and inviting.

“Something small,” he said at once. “Three bedrooms, a couple of baths, maybe a patio out back. A nice yard for the kids. Nothing fancy.”

“You need a gourmet kitchen?”

“I need a functioning kitchen.”

“You know the house you just described, don’t you? The one Sarah’s living in right now. Maybe you could buy it when she and Travis get married.”

Walter shook his head. “Right style, but I want something I can move into now. Besides, I think Raylene’s planning to buy it.” They’d talked about that on several occasions. He’d tried telling her it would be a mistake, that she was getting entirely too comfortable in her hideout. Maybe, though, Dr. McDaniels would get through to her and she’d move on, find her own home and her own life.

“Do you prefer a house or a condo?” Rory Sue asked. “Something brand new or older?”

“A house,” he said at once, wanting something that would feel at least marginally like a home, rather than a bachelor pad. “And older, with full-grown trees and a lawn, not a patch of bare ground with no shade.”

She nodded. “Got it. When are you free? Can you give me an hour tomorrow?”

Walter was startled by the hint of efficiency. He’d labeled her more of a scatterbrain, which just proved his instincts about women were no better than they use to be. Heaven knew, he’d misjudged Sarah often enough.

“That soon?” he asked.

She shrugged. “You said you wanted to move in now. Why mess around? I’ll go through my listings tonight and be ready to show you three or four things tomorrow. You tell me when.”

“Five o’clock?” he suggested.

“Works for me,” she said, then gave him a look that was more impish than come-hither. “And if I’ve found the perfect place, you can buy me dinner to celebrate. How’s that for a deal?”