Honeysuckle Summer

“I did leave once. I went to my mother and told her what was happening. She thought I was exaggerating. She convinced me to go back and work on my marriage, on making Paul happy. She honestly believed, I think, that I must have been doing something wrong for him to act that way.”

“How’d that make you feel?”

Tears streamed down Raylene’s face at the memory of walking away from her parents’ house that day, her suitcase in hand, what she’d seen as her only hope for an escape dashed. “Alone,” she said at once. “I’d never felt more alone in my life.”

“Couldn’t you have called someone else, Sarah or Annie, perhaps?”

“I’d lost touch with them, and I was too embarrassed, anyway. I hadn’t made any real friends in Charleston. Most were the wives of Paul’s friends, and I didn’t dare go to them.”

“So you were scared and isolated,” the psychologist concluded.

“Pretty much.”

“What finally changed to get you out of the house for good?”

Raylene swallowed hard. “We fought,” she said, not wanting to remember.

“But you’d fought before.”

“This was worse. I…was pregnant. Just a couple of months along.” Paul hadn’t been happy about the baby, but she had been. She’d wanted someone she could love unconditionally, someone to protect the way no one had protected her. In a way, she’d convinced herself that the baby would give her the strength to leave. Ironically, that’s exactly what had happened, though not in the way she’d envisioned.

Raylene buried her face in her hands and wept as she thought about that night, about the punches deliberately aimed at her stomach, the blows that had brought on a miscarriage days later. Paul hadn’t wanted her to go to the emergency room when the bleeding started, but for once she’d defied him, threatening to run screaming from the house if he didn’t let her go quietly. Naturally the threat of exposure in his own neighborhood had given him pause.

She hadn’t gone to the hospital where Paul had privileges. She’d feared his associates would help Paul to cover up the abuse. Instead, she went across town. The doctors there had been horrified. They’d known at a glance what had happened and taken enough pictures to guarantee that Paul would be convicted of a crime, even though sentencing guidelines for a first offense, even of aggravated felony abuse, were next to nothing.

When she’d declared she was leaving him, two doctors at the hospital had physically restrained Paul to keep him from following her. The moment they’d released her, she’d driven straight to Serenity and walked into The Corner Spa to see Annie.

“You’d been living in Charleston?” Dr. McDaniels said, glancing at her notes. “Is that right?”

Raylene nodded.

“How did you get over here? Did you drive yourself?”

She nodded. “I think I was in a state of shock. I barely remember making it to The Corner Spa. Then Annie brought me here.”

“And you literally haven’t left since?”

“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.”