My One and Only(25)

Before Caleb had suggested they organize a series of rallies as fundraisers, Cooper had tried for two years to put on something similar at the county fairgrounds with the goal of bringing tourist dollars to the town. Every attempt had been unsuccessful thanks in whole to Jebediah’s interference. As longtime head of the fair committee, the mayor opposed the use of the fairgrounds on the bogus assumption that old cars meant leaky pieces of junk. The yes-men who made up the rest of the committee bowed to their leader and voted down every proposal Cooper put forward.

“What is it, Jebediah?” asked Stallings, who was less a fan of the mayor than Cooper was, thanks to having been defeated by Winkle in the last election.

“Has anyone considered what this rally will do to traffic in the downtown area?”

Giving the obvious answer, Cooper said, “Traffic will increase around the theater, along Margin Street from Fifth to Third, but that’s the whole point. The more people we attract, the more successful the event and the more money we raise.”

Jebediah wasn’t appeased. “What about the locals who need to get through that area?”

Keeping a tight hold on his patience, Cooper replied, “The rally is on a Saturday. Nearly every business along Margin is a Monday through Friday operation. Meaning no one is going to be late for work because of this event.” The mayor opened his mouth, but Cooper didn’t give him the chance to fire off another question. “I’ve talked to nearly every business owner for four blocks and all have offered their support. The ones with freestanding parking lots have given us permission to use their property as needed, and several others have bought ad space in the rally program. Not one has complained, but if you’ve heard from anyone specifically, let me know and I’ll be happy to pay them another visit.”

Knowing he’d been beaten, at least for now, Winkle backed down. “I’m just trying to anticipate problems before they arise,” he said.

Stallings rolled his eyes as he moved to the next item on the agenda and Cooper returned to his seat. Thirty minutes later, the meeting ended.

“That was impressive,” Spencer said, a wide smile splitting his face. “Who knew you had that in you?”

An excellent question. Cooper had even surprised himself. Growing up with a father who’d never believed his son would do anything worthwhile had driven more than a few holes into Cooper’s confidence.

“He was fishing for problems,” he said, playing down the encounter. “Luckily, I had the answers to shut him up.”

“Did you really talk to all those businesses?” Spencer asked.

Cooper grinned. “Most of them. Caleb sold the ads for the program, so I can’t take credit for that part.”

They followed Caleb, Snow, and Lorelei out of the room. “But you can take credit for handing Winkle his ass. That was fun to watch.” With a smack on the back, Spencer said, “We’ll see you over at Brubaker’s. First round’s on me.”

Cooper never turned down a free beer. “Sounds good.”

As his friends walked away, Cooper enjoyed a satisfaction he’d never felt before. Being the person in charge instead of an invisible cog in the wheel was a new experience. And he liked it. Tonight, he’d proven he had more to offer than a tune-up and a tow. Too bad Malcolm Ridgeway hadn’t lived long enough to see how far his son had come.

“Never amount to anything, my ass,” Cooper muttered on his way through the parking lot.





Chapter 8

“In the name of sweet baby Jesus, please let my mother be in a good mood.”

Haleigh had been repeating this prayer before every family dinner for the last six months. So far, the Big Guy upstairs hadn’t seen fit to grant her request, but hope did spring eternal.

The house at 429 Rebel Circle loomed over Haleigh like a specter that she couldn’t expel. This was where she’d spent most of her childhood. Where she’d disappeared into endless worlds reading by the light of the moon in her blanket-filled bay window. Raced over the hardwood floors giggling with glee as her father chased his little princess from room to room. Teased her little brother as he grew from an annoying shadow into a barrel-chested boy on the cusp of manhood.

And then there was her mother.

Without ringing the doorbell, Haleigh opened the front door and stepped into the foyer of her childhood home. “Mom?” she called, hanging her thin jacket on a hook to her left. “I’m here.” The scent of meatloaf and fresh bread filled the air. The Church Street Deli must have been running a special.

Meredith Mitchner wasn’t the meatloaf-making, cookie-baking, always-ready-with-a-hug type of woman. At least not behind closed doors. She put on a good act, of course. Stay-at-home mom. Member of the PTA. Soprano in the church choir and leader of the bereavement committee, which meant making sure the refrigerators of the families of newly deceased church members were fully stocked with casseroles and side dishes within twenty-four hours of the passing.