Honeysuckle Summer

“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.”

“You honestly think it will be that easy?” he asked skeptically. “Rory Sue’s new at the real estate business from what I hear. Her mama’s the expert.”

Raylene got a wicked gleam in her eye. “But Rory Sue’s an expert at figuring out what men want. I’ll put money on her finding a way to satisfy you.”

Walter paused, his fork in midair, and studied Raylene’s suddenly innocent expression. “Are you matchmaking?” he asked warily.

“What if I am? You’re a free man.”

“With no spare time,” he corrected. “Between work and the kids, I have no time. I just told you that.”

“Every man will make time for women and sex,” she countered. “It’s a law of nature.”

“And women?” he queried, tossing the ball right back into her court. “You’ve been shut away in here for the better part of a year. How’s your love life?”

Rather than taking offense, as he’d half expected, she merely laughed. “Hey, I’m willing. The men just have to find me.”

Walter regarded her soberly. Despite her laughter, he found the response unbearably sad. “That’s no way to live, Raylene, and you know it.”

She sobered at once. “Not the first time you’ve mentioned that. Just so you know, I called Dr. McDaniels this morning. She’s coming here tomorrow. I guess we’ll finally get to the bottom of my problem.”

“About time,” Walter said, relieved for her.

She regarded him wearily. “That’s what all of you think,” she said. “But no one seems to be thinking about what happens if there’s no way to fix me.”

Walter heard the genuine fear behind her lightly spoken words and reached for her hand. “Then you’ll handle that,” he said confidently. “But I believe you’re strong enough to deal with anything, Raylene. I mean that. You just may be the strongest woman I know.”

Uncomfortable with the unexpected, if heartfelt, emotion, he stood up and backed away. “Now I’ve got to get back to work before Travis finds out I’m over here instead of selling airtime. You need anything after you see the doctor tomorrow, you call me, you hear? I may be a poor substitute for a Sweet Magnolia, but I am your friend, and I’ve got a broad shoulder you can lean on.”

Raylene’s eyes filled with tears. “Sure,” she said. “Thanks.”

As Walter got in his car, he thought about what had just happened. If anyone had ever told him he could have deep feelings for a woman without wanting to get her into bed, he’d have sworn they were nuts. That was the way it was between him and Raylene, though. They were friends, the kind who backed each other up, and he’d meant what he said. If she needed him, he would be here.

Of course, knowing Raylene, it would be a cold day in hell before she ever admitted needing anyone.

3 (#ulink_c8558439-1f0a-532e-8ee2-7e72f2af55b1)

Raylene wasn’t entirely shocked when she saw Helen Decatur coming up the walk after dinner on the night after Tommy’s adventure. She’d half expected the attorney to stop by and warn her about possible charges that could be filed against her if she wasn’t more careful in the future.

When she opened the door, though, Helen merely held out a bottle of tequila, a bag of limes and a can of frozen limeade.

“Time for a margarita night,” Helen declared.

“Just you and me?” Raylene queried.

Helen grinned. “Are you kidding me? Sweet Magnolias do not get to drink alone, or even in pairs. The others will be here soon.”

“Did Sarah know about this?”

Helen nodded. “She’s the one who made the calls,” she revealed as she headed for the kitchen to start making a batch of her lethal margaritas. “She thought you needed a boost to your spirits. She also said she had the Triple Sec. Any idea where I’d find it?”

As Raylene retrieved the bottle from the pantry, Helen found the blender without asking and then, with the skill of many years of practice, she put the ingredients for the frozen drinks in and turned it on. A moment later, she added crushed ice and ran the mixture through another cycle until she had an innocent-looking concoction that could fell a lumberjack.

“Sarah also thought you might want to talk about what that deputy implied when he was here,” Helen added casually, glancing at Raylene as she handed her a drink.

“You mean the implication that there would be legal consequences if Tommy ever slipped away from me again?”

Helen nodded. “If the man wants to be a hard-ass, he could probably stir up some trouble, but I’ll handle it.” She grinned and lifted a glass filled with a frothy, icy drink. “It’s taken me a little longer than expected to hit my stride again after maternity leave and my mom’s broken hip, but I’m back now. No one is tougher in court than I am.”

“I know you might relish the idea of going toe-to-toe with the deputy in court, but I think it might be wiser if I’m not in a position for anything like this to happen again,” Raylene told her. “Sarah, Travis and I are agreed, I will never be alone with the kids, not even for a few minutes. We were lucky this time, but I’m not taking any more chances.”

“Still, things can happen,” Helen said. “I’m just saying you don’t need to worry. I have your back.”

“Thank you. You came through for me with my divorce from Paul. I have enough financial resources that I haven’t had to think about trying to work. And you gave me great advice when I had to give my deposition against him for assault and abuse. I trust you implicitly, but I’m also determined that your help won’t be needed with this.”

Helen studied her intently, then nodded. “Okay, then,” she said. “Let’s get this party started.”

As if her words had been carefully timed, Sarah suddenly came into the kitchen. Annie appeared at the back door, followed by her mother, Dana Sue Sullivan, the owner of Sullivan’s restaurant, as well as Maddie Maddox, who ran The Corner Spa—which was owned by Dana Sue, Maddie and Helen—and Jeanette McDonald, who ran the day-spa services and was married to Travis’s cousin. Years ago as teenagers, Dana Sue, Maddie and Helen had formed the Sweet Magnolias, a tight circle of friends. Then they’d drawn in Jeanette, and now the new generation, which included Annie, Sarah and Raylene.

The margarita-night gatherings had become a tradition years ago, a time for the women to share their problems, their successes and a whole lot of laughter. That they’d come together for her touched Raylene in unexpected ways. She couldn’t seem to stop the tears that welled up.

“Hey, are you about to cry?” Sarah asked her.

Raylene nodded. “Afraid so. I can’t believe everyone is here just to cheer me up, especially when I’m the one who messed up.”

“Hey, little princess, it’s not all about cheering you up,” Annie said, nudging her in the side. “Some of it’s about the margaritas and Mom’s guacamole. Not that I get to drink a margarita. I’m still nursing the baby.”

“It’s a small sacrifice to make to have a healthy baby,” Raylene scolded. “And by the way, I am so not a princess.”

“Did you or did you not have a debutante ball in Charleston?” Sarah asked. “I seem to recall you looking like a princess in a fairy tale that night. You showed us the pictures often enough.”

Raylene winced. It seemed like a million years ago when her grandparents had talked her into that. That she’d gotten all caught up in the social whirl and lost focus about what really mattered in life still amazed her. She’d been persuaded to go to private school for her senior year and had lost contact with her friends.

Recently, the best part of coming back to Serenity had been finding herself surrounded by people who didn’t put on airs, live by a calendar of parties and fund-raisers, and who were totally grounded. Her friends here—Sweet Magnolias and beyond—were real. She understood the difference now and valued it.

“To my very deep regret, I did have a coming out season,” she conceded.

“There’s nothing wrong with having a big, fancy party,” Helen soothed. “In my day, I loved any chance to get dressed up and put on a pair of kick-ass shoes.” Her expression turned mournful as she held out feet clad in expensive flats. “These days I can’t stand up for more than two seconds in the kind of high heels I always loved.”

“Tonight is not about how much you miss your Manolos and Jimmy Choos,” Maddie teased.

“I was just trying to point out to Raylene that parties aren’t necessarily bad,” Helen countered.