My One and Only(60)

“What do you know about babies?” Cooper asked. Ian didn’t have younger siblings, and he sure didn’t have any kids of his own.

The youngster squirmed. “I know when one’s being good,” he defended. “Anyhow, Jessi gave me the number for Abby’s place, since she doesn’t have a cell phone, but I wasn’t sure if I should call or not.”

When Haleigh didn’t answer right away, Cooper elbowed her. “That one’s for you.”

“Oh, right,” she said. “I’d definitely say give her a call. Try around seven. That’s when Emma’s usually down for a good while.”

Ian smiled and did his best impersonation of a bobblehead. “Great. Seven. I can do that.” He continued to stand around, grinning like a lovesick fool. Cooper would have made fun of him, but he’d likely worn a similar expression in the last few days.

“Can we go now?” Cooper asked, gaining a confused look from his cousin. That earned the kid a flick in the forehead. “Get back to work, Ian. And don’t forget to tell Frankie that I left.”

“Dang,” he said, rubbing his head. “You know I hate when you do that.”

Haleigh passed through the outside door chuckling as Cooper yelled back, “Tell Frankie!”





Chapter 19

Haleigh had no idea where to start. They’d driven to the restaurant separately, since she’d need to go straight to the hospital from lunch. Luckily, the trip from the garage to the restaurant wasn’t far enough for her to chicken out and ditch her lunch partner.

From the moment they met at the entrance, Cooper had been his typical gentleman self—opening doors, a hand on her back, letting her order first. Nothing in his behavior indicated the slightest concern over their impending conversation.

Once the waitress had taken their order and the drinks were on the table, she could prolong the inevitable no longer. As a habitually linear person, Haleigh opted to start at the beginning.

“I know you said I don’t have to talk about the drinking.”

“Up to you,” Cooper said.

Shredding her straw wrapper, she said, “It’s actually the easier part. Well,” she corrected, “not easier, but without sharing that part, the rest won’t make any sense.”

Cooper nodded but held silent.

With a deep breath, she dove in. “As you know, the summer before college wasn’t so great for me. But what you don’t know is that the years before that weren’t exactly peachy either. My parents didn’t have the happiest marriage, and I became the pawn they used against each other. To this day, my mother blames me for every misery in her life.” With a rueful grin, she added, “Needless to say, going off to college was like being liberated from a mental prison.”

“I knew things weren’t great at home,” Cooper said, covering her hand with his. “Our bedroom walls were pretty thin. I heard a lot of what you told Abby.”

“Then you really did know why I couldn’t tell my mom about the pregnancy.”

“That’s not why I helped you, but yeah, I knew.”

His empathy was all well and good, but they hadn’t reached the tough part yet.

“Due to some financial arrangements Dad made before he was killed, coupled with the scholarships I’d earned, my first four years of college were paid for, including room and board. Unfortunately, Dad hadn’t made arrangements that would take care of the family should something happen to him. This meant that I was set at college, but Mom was struggling back home. And, as was the pattern, I was to blame for that struggling.

“So there I was, embracing my newfound freedom, and every chance she got, Mom would call to remind me how hard things were at home. There was always some reason I needed to send money—new sports gear for my brother or new tires for the car. With each call, the guilt grew heavier and heavier until I just didn’t want to feel it anymore. I remember the first time I got drunk at a party. It was like nothing could touch me. I was numb and it felt incredible. From that point on, that’s how I coped. Until the beginning of junior year.”

Haleigh ran her hands through her hair, struggling not to let the past get a grip on her psyche.

“You’re good,” Cooper said. “We can take a break.”

If she took a break, Haleigh feared the rest would never come out. Shaking her head, she continued. “I was still functioning, but my grades started to suffer. There were mornings when I woke up and huge chunks of the night before were missing from my memory. I didn’t know who I’d been with or what I’d done. And then a girl in my sorority fell out a window during a party in our house. Some said I was in the room with her at the time, but I didn’t remember. I still don’t.”