“I know,” her oldest friend said. “But that doesn’t mean that you won’t.”
Which was the exact reason why Haleigh wouldn’t cross that line.
“No one knows my ability to leave chaos in my wake better than I do,” Haleigh said. “You have my word, Abby. I won’t hurt him.”
Again she turned to leave, but Abby stopped her. “Are you okay? What happened last night to set you off?”
Crossing her arms, Haleigh said, “My mother suggested that for once in my life I should put her first.”
Abby’s shoulders fell. “Wow.”
“Yeah. Wow.”
Abby Ridgeway had been Haleigh’s confidante since they were nine years old. She knew every ugly and twisted part of her past. Without her friend as witness, Haleigh might wonder if her childhood had really been so bad, or if the painful memories were more nightmare than reality.
That wow confirmed the truth.
With a philosophic smile, Haleigh said, “Nothing I shouldn’t be used to, right? I’m sorry I upset you. It won’t happen again.”
“I love your guts, Haleigh Rae,” Abby said with an apologetic tone.
When the girls were eleven, Haleigh had come to a life-changing conclusion that she had to share with her best friend immediately. My mother hates my guts, Haleigh had declared, to which Abby had responded, I love your guts. They’d been using the phrase ever since.
The words made Haleigh smile despite the ache in her chest. “I love your guts, too, Abby Lou.”
And maybe someday she’d love her own as well.
Chapter 13
Cooper was getting a complex about females puking in his presence. No sooner had he arrived at Abby’s house Monday morning to drive Jessi and the munchkin to the pediatrician’s office, than Emma upchucked down the front of her little pink outfit.
“Come on, Emma,” Jessi pleaded. “We’re already late as it is.”
“I’ll get you there on time,” Cooper said. “Get her changed and meet me at the car.”
Due to Cooper’s truck being circa 1975, strapping a baby into the middle of his bench seat wasn’t an option. Fortunately for Jessi, Abby had the day off and had offered up her Camry.
As Jessi rushed off, Cooper headed for the door and ran into Abby exiting the laundry room with a basket full of clothes.
“If those are yours, I think they shrunk,” he said, knowing full well that the tiny items belonged to Emma.
Abby wasn’t amused. “Forgive me if I’m not in the mood for laundry humor.”
“You haven’t been in the mood for any kind of humor lately,” he observed. He understood that she was grieving, but that didn’t stop Cooper from missing the twin he’d known his whole life. “Why don’t you come with us? I’ll buy lunch for everyone.”
She led him to the living room, where she dropped onto the couch and settled the basket between her feet. “Don’t you have a business to run?”
“Frankie and Ian are working the garage, and Kelly can handle the counter without me for a few hours.” Abby knew that Cooper had enough employees to keep the garage running without his constant supervision. Which meant she was being a snot for no reason. “When was the last time you did something other than work or volunteer at one of those veterans’ charities?”
Snapping a baby blanket in the air, she said, “Those charities are important. Those men and women sacrificed everything for the rest of us, and they deserve our help. Forgive me for wanting to give back.”
“Abby,” he said, and waited for her to meet his eye. “No matter how much money you raise, you can’t bring Kyle back. And you know he’d hate to see you cut yourself off like this.”
“What do you know about it, Cooper? You’ve never committed to anything other than a metal box on four wheels.” Green eyes that matched his own snapped fire. “How about, when you lose the love of your life, then you can tell me how to live mine.”
Shortly after Kyle had died, while Abby had been walking around in a daze acting as if her husband might stroll through the door at any minute, their mother had made Cooper read about the five stages of grief. Those early months had been a textbook case of denial, but Abby had clearly drifted into the next stage—anger.
His sister had no more control over her emotions right now than she did the weather, but knowing the source of the storm didn’t make it any easier to bear.
“You’re right,” he said, backing away. “What do I know?”
When he reached the front hall, Abby called after him. “Cooper, come back here.”
Reluctant to take more abuse, he ignored the plea and kept walking.