My One and Only(27)

Not that she’d included this reasoning in her resignation. Meredith Mitchner would never allow her predilection for snobbery to show in such a public way. If Haleigh recalled correctly, her mother had used the excuse that other priorities were demanding her time and attention. Because being on call to produce a cluster of casseroles on a moment’s notice could be extremely stressful.

When they were finally seated in the dining room, her mother said, “Did I tell you that I’ve volunteered for Jebediah Winkle’s reelection campaign?”

Haleigh struggled to hide her distaste. Jebediah Winkle was a difficult man to like. How he’d managed to win the previous election remained a mystery. Buford Stallings had been mayor for more than a decade, and he’d done a satisfactory job as far as Haleigh knew, before Jebediah had deposed him. Due to being eyeball-deep in her residency at the time of the election, she hadn’t paid much attention to the local news, so she wasn’t certain how Winkle had pulled off the defeat.

“Why would you want to get involved in politics?” Haleigh asked. Her mother had never shown an interest in such matters before.

Manicured brows nearly met over an aristocratic nose. “A woman doesn’t have to go to medical school to be interested in something other than grocery shopping and pressed linens.”

As if the woman had ever ironed a sheet in her life.

“I didn’t mean to insult you,” Haleigh said, knowing better than to touch that nerve. “I’m sure they’re happy to have you.”

Setting her silverware on the table, Meredith said, “Don’t patronize me, Haleigh Rae. I don’t appreciate it.”

“I’m not patronizing you, Mother. I sincerely believe you’ll be an asset to the campaign.”

Keeping her eyes on her food, Haleigh maintained a placid expression. Any inkling of irritation would only add fuel to the fire.

“Thank you,” her mother said, reclaiming her fork. “I’ll expect you to vote for him.”

Haleigh jerked upright. “You expect what?”

Unruffled, Meredith said, “To vote for Jebediah. As my daughter, your support is a given.”

“I don’t think so,” she sputtered. “Who I vote for is my business.”

“Would it be so much to ask that for once in your life you put my desires first?”

The gall of the question struck Haleigh speechless. Nearly every aspect of her life revolved around her mother’s desires. Her choice of career. Her surrendered paychecks. Her pointless efforts to atone for someone else’s sins.

All for nothing.

“I’m not hungry anymore,” Haleigh said, slamming her napkin onto her plate.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Meredith demanded. “Dinner isn’t over yet.”

“Yes,” Haleigh said, rising to her feet, “it is. I have someplace else to be.”

Following her daughter into the foyer, Meredith said, “What do you mean you have someplace else to be? Having dinner with your mother should be more important than anything else.”

After tugging on her jacket, Haleigh spun with her hand on the door. “There are a lot of things that should be in this house, Mother. But at some point we all have to admit the truth.”

For the length of a breath, recognition shone in her mother’s eyes. She knew exactly what her daughter’s words meant. And if Haleigh had caught even a hint of regret in those blue depths, she might have stayed.

“By all means,” her mother said, “don’t let me keep you.”

With her jaw clamped tight, Haleigh dragged the keys from her pocket, willing herself not to cry. After all, this wasn’t a new wound. This was her reality. She had to accept it eventually.



Going to Brubaker’s didn’t have to be a mistake. It wasn’t as if Haleigh had never been in the presence of alcohol and maintained complete control over her cravings. She could hang out with friends, chat for an hour or so, and return home feeling less like emotional roadkill.

“Are you sure I don’t look like an idiot?” Haleigh’s closet didn’t contain honky-tonk attire. Jeans would have been good, if she’d been able to find a clean pair. Though her scrubs were washed regularly, the rest of her wardrobe tended to sit in the hamper for weeks on end.

“Would you trust me already?” Jessi said for the third time. “I’ve got this.”

This was a denim jacket thrown over a casual dress that Jessi had found in the back of Haleigh’s closet. The periwinkle flowers dotting the simple beige hem played off the jacket, and thankfully, she and her best friend wore the same size shoe as Jessi had snagged a pair of cowboy boots from Abby’s closet.