Honeysuckle Summer. Sherryl Woods

slid out of the booth. “Then I’d better get busy, if I’m going to prove that I’m as good as my mom in this real estate gig. Thanks for the pizza, Walter. We’ll chalk this up as our first date.” She winked. “Just so you know, with me things usually start to get really interesting by the end of the second date.”

      “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. “Just one thing.”

      “Yes?”

      “In my world, for them to count as dates, I need to do the asking, so let’s think of tonight and tomorrow as all business, okay?”

      For a moment, she looked startled, but then she tossed her mane of chestnut hair and laughed. “An old-fashioned guy! Who’d have thought it? Okay, Walter, we’ll play this your way. I’ll see you tomorrow at five. And since dinner’s business, I’ll buy.”

      “Do you always have to have the last word?”

      “I don’t have to,” she told him, “but it usually works out that way.”

      She sashayed off before he could respond, giving him an excellent view of a backside that would make most men weep. She left Walter wondering just what in heaven’s name Raylene had been thinking.

      He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and punched in the number at Sarah’s. Raylene picked up.

      “I’ve just had a very interesting, supposedly chance encounter with Rory Sue Lewis,” he told her. “What do you know about that?”

      “I might have mentioned your real estate needs to her,” she said, a barely contained hint of laughter threading through her voice. “Does she think she can find you a house?”

      “That’s the least of what she thinks she can do for me,” he said.

      “I thought the two of you might hit it off.”

      “Hit it off? She scares me to death.”

      Raylene did laugh then. “Walter Price, you did not just say that.”

      “I mean it. She’s pushy and blatantly sexual.”

      “Isn’t that every man’s dream?”

      “I suppose some men fantasize about women chasing them, but personally I prefer a more demure, traditional type.”

      “Because your marriage to a woman like that worked out so well?” Raylene taunted.

      Walter faltered at that. When he remained silent, Raylene added, “You need a woman who’ll stand up to you and give you a run for your money, Walter. Admit it, once Sarah left you and started doing that, you found her a lot more fascinating.”

      “True, but there’s no comparison between Sarah, even now with her newfound self-confidence, and Rory Sue. Sarah would kill you if she heard you trying to make one. Rory Sue’s like some kind of barracuda-in-training.”

      “An apt description,” Raylene agreed. “You don’t have to date Rory Sue, you know. Just let her find you someplace to live and enjoy the sparks along the way. There were sparks at least, right?”

      “Oh, there were sparks,” he conceded reluctantly. “The kind that could burn a man if he’s not careful.”

      “Then be careful.”

      “Oh, I will be,” he assured her. “And next time you get any crazy ideas about matchmaking, my friend, see if you can’t find someone who’ll put some roses in your cheeks and leave me alone.”

      Raylene didn’t respond. Walter pounced on her silence.

      “Raylene Hammond, have you already found that someone?”

      “Don’t be silly. Where would I find someone?” she asked. “Men don’t just appear magically outside my door. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?”

      “But one has. I can hear it in your voice.”

      “You’re imagining things,” she said.

      Walter let it drop. If there was something going on in her life, God bless her, he’d find out about it soon enough. Tommy, for example, was a little blabbermouth when it came to anything going on at home.

      “Tell me how things went with Dr. McDaniels,” he said instead.

      As she filled him in, Walter heard a familiar note of defeat in her voice.

      “You didn’t expect to run out of the first session and go skipping down the block, did you?”

      “Not really, but it’s clearly going to be hard work. She managed to drag out a lot of bad memories and insisted on dissecting them. I think it’s going to get worse before it gets better.”

      “You’re not scared of hard work, are you?”

      “No,” she said with a hint of indignation, but then her bravado failed her. “I’m scared of failing.”

      “You are not going to fail,” he said adamantly. “There’s too much at stake—your entire future, in case you need reminding. Besides, you have this huge support system in place. We’ll all be right beside you every step of the way.”

      His words were greeted by silence and then she asked, “Walter, back when I was on your case every ten seconds for the way you were treating Sarah, did you ever think we’d wind up being friends?”

      “To be honest, I never thought much about being friends with any woman,” he said.

      She laughed. “Exactly as I thought, which is why Rory Sue is perfect for you. You can thank me later. Good night.”

      “Good night.”

      “Oh, Walter, wait,” she said, a teasing note in her voice. “Pleasant dreams!”

      He bit off the retort that came to mind. With an image of Rory Sue’s scantily clad body firmly implanted in his head, he doubted there was much sleep in his immediate future, anyway.

       5

      Carter had no idea why Raylene got to him the way she did. She was obviously going through a tough time and it was just as plain her problems were more than he had any idea how to handle. He was barely coping with his own life these days. Trying to keep two strong-willed teenagers on the straight and narrow had turned out to be a challenge beyond his wildest expectations.

      Still, despite all of his own worries, he couldn’t seem to shake that nostalgic, tearful expression on Raylene’s face when she’d mentioned gardening. That hint of vulnerability from a woman who was otherwise strong enough to accept her own limitations—self-imposed though they might be—nagged at him for several days.

      On Saturday morning, done with fretting and ready to take action, he dragged the girls out of bed at what they considered the unholy hour of ten, and told them to be dressed and in the car in thirty minutes.

      “Why?” Carrie asked with a moan. “It’s Saturday.”

      “And you don’t want to waste a minute of it,” he said cheerfully.

      Unimpressed by his good mood, she scowled back at him. “What’s the big hurry?”

      “We have places to go, things to do, people to see,” he declared, using something their mother had frequently cited when she wanted them to get moving. She’d also said that getting everyone into the car was a little like herding cats, something he was just beginning to understand as his sisters grew increasingly stubborn and independent.

      Carrie eyed him suspiciously. “What places? What things? What people?”

      “You’ll see,” he told her. “Now, hustle.”

      Mandy was marginally more upbeat and cooperative. Always eager for something new, she was downstairs shoveling