My One and Only (Ardent Springs Book 3) (18 page)

“She didn’t scream at all the night of the cookout. That’s a good little baby,” said Ian.

“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.”

She stared unseeing at her water glass, wishing it was vodka.

“Phoebe didn’t survive to say whether I was there or not.” Looking into Cooper’s sympathetic eyes, she said, “I could have saved her. Or I could be the person who made her fall. Either way, I’ll never know because I was too drunk to remember.”

“That girl’s death wasn’t your fault,” he assured her.

“You don’t know that,” she snapped. “No one does. But I live with the possibility every day.”

“Listen to me. Torturing yourself isn’t going to bring her back. Or give your mom a happier life. People make choices. If they don’t like how things turn out, they can make new choices.” Cooper laced his fingers with Haleigh’s, tugging until she met his eyes. “If your mom was unhappy in her marriage, she had the power to get out, but she
chose
to stay. That is not on you, and you are not required to do penance for something you had no control over.”

Sadly, Cooper’s response wasn’t anything Haleigh hadn’t heard before. More than one therapist had tried to reprogram her faulty wiring. The problem was, no platitudes, no matter how rational, could change reality. If Haleigh had never been born, several lives might be better today. That was a fact, and the weight she carried.

“Up here,” she said, tapping her temple, “I know that. And that’s why the night at Brubaker’s was the first time I’ve had a drink in four years. Mom just pushed the wrong button, and I let the craving win. I can’t guarantee I’ll never mess up again, but if I do, it won’t be anytime soon. I hadn’t lined up a counselor since returning to town, but I’ve rectified that and my first appointment is next month.”

With unwavering faith, Cooper nodded. “I believe you.”

He couldn’t possibly know how much those words meant.

A waiter showed up with their food, sparing Haleigh the task of responding. Which was helpful, since she had no idea what to say.

“All right, folks, who gets the enchilada?” Cooper motioned for the dish and the waiter proceeded to set the other plate in front of Haleigh. “Everything look good? Can I get you all anything else?”

“This will do it, thanks.” As the man walked away, Cooper tucked his napkin into his shirt collar. “Based on what you just told me, I’d say you turned out better than expected. Despite everything you’ve been through—”

“You mean everything I’ve done to myself.”

“No,” he stated. “You didn’t choose the best coping mechanism, I won’t argue with that, but the rest was inflicted by others. The fact that you still managed to become a successful doctor is damn impressive.”

Shooting for full disclosure, Haleigh said, “You’d be surprised how many doctors are really screwed-up individuals.”

He paused in the middle of slicing his food. “Really?”

“Well-intentioned and well-trained, but there’s something about having the power to fix others when you can’t fix yourself.”

Cooper tilted his head and looked up. “That actually makes a lot of sense.”

In mutual silence, they proceeded to eat their meals. Cooper had been right about the quesadilla, and Haleigh considered using the food to avoid the next part of her explanation. But a glance to her watch said she was running out of time. Her shift at the hospital started in less than forty minutes.

“I guess now we move on to the rest of my sins.”

“Something tells me I’m not going to like this part,” he said.

“Believe it or not, the engagements aren’t nearly as complicated as what we’ve covered already.”

“Good to know.” Setting his silverware on each side of the plate, he dropped his hands beneath the table and said, “Let’s hear it.”

With a flutter in her gut, Haleigh reminded herself that the worst was over. Now she just had to figure out how
not
to sound like a fickle woman with commitment issues.

Cooper kept telling himself that nothing that had happened in Haleigh’s past had anything to do with what might happen in their future, but he still needed to hear about these engagements. Being a good guy willing to give her the benefit of the doubt didn’t mean he lacked self-preservation. Abby had been right in the fact that Cooper needed to know what he might be stepping into. Which sounded ridiculous considering they hadn’t even been on an official date yet—a circumstance he planned to change real soon.

Twisting her fork in her guacamole, Haleigh said, “I’m not even sure the first engagement counts. It only lasted two weeks.”

Stating a fact, he said, “That’s two weeks longer than I’ve ever been engaged.”

“This is not the time to remind me that you’re perfect.”

“As much as I’d like you to believe that, I’m far from perfect.” In all fairness, Haleigh shouldn’t be the only person dragging her history onto the lunch table. “The truth is that I can’t imagine tying myself to one person for the rest of my life. Legally, anyway.”

Haleigh stared unblinking. “You’re going to have to repeat that because I’m sure I heard it wrong.”

“You know the stats,” Cooper said. “How many people get married believing they’ve found the perfect person only to find out down the road that they were wrong?” His mother had endured more than twenty years with a man who’d treated her and his kids like crap. That would not happen to him. “Getting married is like putting all your money on one roll of the dice in Vegas. I’d rather keep what I have and go about my business. So why did the first guy only last two weeks?”

“Oh, no. You don’t get to drop a bomb like that and not follow it up. Are you saying you never want to have kids?”

This had always been the kink in his thinking. His mother had stayed for the sake of her children, and because in her generation, till death meant exactly that. Which meant Cooper knew from experience that staying only made things worse for the entire family.

“I’d love to have a couple munchkins, but that would make the whole thing imploding even worse.” At her incredulous look, he said, “I’m not saying never, I would just have to be sure. Like, really, really sure.”

Propping her chin on her hand, she said, “You want a guarantee that you’ll live happily ever after.”

Lifting his glass, Cooper said, “I’m cautious, not stupid. Nothing comes with a guarantee.” After taking a drink he added, “Let me put it this way. If I buy a car, I know enough about that machine that, with a thorough inspection, I know what I’m getting. It’s still a risk, as there’s always a chance of a hidden problem, but I feel secure enough about my knowledge of the subject to commit to buy. You meet a woman you’ve never met and you’re required to buy in, with a diamond, no less, practically sight-unseen. No manual. No clue what’s lurking under the manifold. Put your money down and hope for the best.” With a tap on the table, he said, “No, thank you.”

With her hands on her cheeks, Haleigh said, “Who are you and what have you done with the guy I came in here with?”

“Still me, darling.” Cooper picked up his fork. “And still single for a reason.”

“Ha,” she laughed. “And I thought
I
would sound like a commitment-phobe.”

With a shake of his head, he said, “I’m not afraid to commit. I simply haven’t found enough reason to do it.” With a bite on the end of his fork, he pointed it Haleigh’s way. “Now let’s get back to why you’re still single. Why three tries and no wedding?”

“That’s easy. Danny was a musician. I was twenty and in full rebellion phase, looking for anything that would piss off my mother. We got engaged one week after meeting, and two weeks later I caught him with two women in the back of a club.”

“What is it with women and musicians?” Cooper asked. “I’ve never gotten that.”

“What is it with big boobs leaning over the hood of a muscle car?” she asked.

“You saw the calendar, huh?”

Haleigh nodded. “She was hard to miss.”

Cooper surrendered. “We’ll call that one a draw. Engagement number two.”

“Phillip was a great guy. We met in recovery, and though it works for some, two addicts in one relationship was two too many for us.”

“That does sound like a recipe for disaster.” Growing up with one alcoholic parent had been enough to make Cooper’s childhood miserable. He couldn’t imagine growing up with two in the same household. Not that all drinkers were like his dad, obviously, but the possibilities were still more than he wanted to consider. “And lucky number three?”

“That would be Marcus.” Haleigh’s light tone vanished. “We broke up right before I moved back to Ardent Springs because Marcus didn’t want to live in a dinky little town—his words. He’s out in LA now, attempting to become the plastic surgeon to the stars.”

The first two castoffs Cooper could handle. A recent breakup with a doctor knocked him off balance.

“Plastic surgeon?”

“A young, up-and-coming plastic surgeon is how Marcus Appleton refers to himself. He was the opposite of Danny in that instead of trying to tick Mom off, I went out of my way to find a man who would meet her standards.” Lifting her glass before leaning back in her chair, Haleigh said, “And boy, was she pleased. Mother
loves
Marcus.”

Not what he wanted to hear.

“Shouldn’t that be
loved
him?”

“We broke up, but he’s still alive.” Haleigh chuckled. “She still calls him to
check in
, as she calls it, but I know she’s trying to convince him to change his mind.”

“And what if he does?” Cooper asked.

“No chance.” Haleigh cut into a quesadilla. “Marcus will never agree to move here. He’d swallow his best scalpel before moving to the middle of nowhere.”

“But would you take him back?”

“What?” She stopped mid cut. “Didn’t you hear me? That’s a moot point.”

Not the right answer.

“It’s a simple question, Haleigh Rae. Yes or no?”

As he waited for her response, a voice in Cooper’s head taunted,
Maybe Abby was right.