Marie Sexton - Coda 06 - Fear, Hope, and Bread Pudding (10 page)

“Well, you were our first.” I stopped to let that sink in. “We were nervous. Cole was so worried about not messing things up—we
both
were—and in the end, we overcompensated.”

She was silent for a moment, but then she said, “I can understand that. What concerns me is that he seemed to be afraid of you.”

“Not of me,” I said. “Of you. He wants this so much, and he was worried that you wouldn’t like him. But what you saw the other night? That wasn’t us. I know they say you never get a second chance to make a first impression, but please. I’m begging you. Give us a second chance. Let us show you what we’re really like.”

She sighed, but somehow, I was pretty sure she was smiling too. “All right. Between you and Julia, I think I’m convinced. When would you like to meet?”

I had her. All I needed now was a plan.
T
HOMAS’S schedule turned out to be more difficult than before, but

Taylor agreed to meet with us without him present. The hard part was that she didn’t have a car. It took a couple of calls back and forth between her and my dad, but I finally had it arranged.

I found Cole in the empty bedroom at the end of the hall, sitting in the window seat, staring blankly out the window. He didn’t turn to face me.

“Do we have anything planned for tomorrow night?” I asked. “Do we ever?”
“I invited my father over for dinner.”
“That’s fine.”
“He’s bringing a date.”
He whipped his head around to face me, his eyes wide. “Really?”

No, not really. At least, not the way he probably assumed. I felt a little bad about lying to him, but I was also sure it was the right thing to do. He wouldn’t have time to worry about how to act. “That’s what he said.”

“I’m so happy he’s dating again!”

“I figured you would be. He said to make something good. I think he wants to impress her.”
He smiled at me, possibly the first genuine smile I’d seen on his face in days. “You can count on me.”

Of course, I already knew that.

T
HE next day was one of the best we’d had in ages. Cole was all smiles. He bustled around the house and ordered me to the store twice. He talked nonstop about dinner and about what kind of woman my dad might have met.

“You really don’t know where he met her?”

“He didn’t tell me anything,” I said for the third time, trying not to feel guilty for deceiving him. “You know how he is.”
“I suppose, but—”

“We’ll find out soon enough.” I wrapped my arms around him from behind. I breathed in the smell of strawberries and kissed the butterfly mark on the back of his neck. “We still have a couple of hours before they get here.”

“Yes.”

 

I moved one hand down his stomach to caress his groin. “Plenty of time still for you to cook dinner, right?”

He laughed and relaxed against me. He put his head back on my shoulder. “Right.”
“So it’s okay if I distract you for a bit?”
“Advisable, even.”

I undid his pants and slid my hand inside. “All our time together, and I don’t think we’ve ever made love in this kitchen.”

 

He laughed breathlessly. “A terrible oversight, love. We should do something about it right away.”

 

“I couldn’t agree more.”

We took our time, but it ended up wild, both of us breathless, driving forward with an urgency we’d been lacking for months. It wasn’t that our sex had become routine, but since the summer before, there’d been a mournful edge to it. It had felt as if we were making love for comfort more than anything. But for today at least, the grief was gone. There was only the joy of loving each other, and the sheer pleasure of fucking like there was no tomorrow.

“We should do that more often.” He sighed when it was over. “I’d like that.” But in order for that to happen, we had to settle the adoption issue, one way or the other. Between the hope and the fear, his passion for all things was being strangled.
He looked up at me as if reading my thoughts. His lips were swollen and red from the attention I’d given them. “I don’t know how you put up with me. I’ve been so out of sorts.”
“Hush. This year has been hard, but I don’t mind.”
“What if it never gets better?”
I pulled him close and kissed his forehead. “It will.”

And if Taylor was willing, it would be resolved sooner rather than later. I crossed my fingers and hoped like crazy the dinner went well. It wasn’t until the doorbell rang that I began to worry I’d made a bad decision.

“I don’t know why your dad still rings the bell,” Cole said as he went to answer it.
“Because he’s afraid of walking in at an inopportune moment and getting an eyeful of something he’d never be able to forget.”

He laughed. “I suppose that’s reason enough.”
I’d been up front with both my father and Taylor about my plan to surprise Cole. Still, I’d hoped to beat him to the door, but of course he was anxious to meet my dad’s “date,” so I ended up behind him. He swung the door open, already talking. “George! I’m so glad you’re here. I—”

And then he froze, staring at Taylor.

 

“Dinner smells wonderful,” my dad said, stepping inside as if nothing unusual were going on. “Is it lobster bisque?”

 

Cole didn’t stay stunned for long. He jerked quickly into motion as his cheeks flushed red. “It is. Good guess.”

 

“My favorite.” And then, almost as an afterthought, Dad said, “You know Taylor.”

“Of course!” Cole took her hand and led her inside. “I’m so glad to see you, honey. Come on in! Here, let me take your jacket.
Jon
!” He turned and shoved Taylor’s coat roughly into my hands, glaring at me as he did. “Take that!” he said, his voice low enough that they probably couldn’t hear him. “I think you know where you can stick it.” Of course, he had a perfect smile on his face again by the time he turned back to her. “Come in. Sit down! I just have to go in the kitchen for one teensy little minute to turn down the burner. I don’t want to burn things up like last time.”

If looks could kill, I would have been one very crispy critter. I held a finger up to my father and Taylor, indicating I’d be right back, and followed Cole into the kitchen to receive my punishment.

The minute I walked through the door, a flying potholder smacked me square in the face. “How could you?” he asked as he threw another one at me. “How could you do this to me?” Another potholder, and then a dishtowel. “I hate you right now, and I’ll never forgive you, either.” He threw a wet sponge at me, but I managed to dodge that one. He began searching for something else to use as ammunition, and I crossed the room before he could pick up anything hard. I took his arm and turned him toward me.

“I’m sorry, but this was the best way.”
“What? To humiliate me in front of her?
Again
?” He struggled against my grip, but not much. It was more a gesture of defiance than an actual desire to escape. “As if I didn’t do it well enough on my own last time?”

I tried to pull him close, to wrap my arms around him, but he wouldn’t let me. I was reminded again of the early days of our relationship, when he’d insisted on pushing me away. I settled for keeping my hand on his arm. “Cole, listen to me. Do you know why she didn’t like us?”

“It wasn’t ‘us’ she didn’t like. It was me! Probably because I’m not all butch and macho, right? Because I’m a fruitcake! Isn’t that what your father says?”

I winced, scolding myself for thinking that Cole could ever have not known about my father’s little joke. And yet my father adored him. He had to know that too. “Stop being a drama queen and listen to me.”

He froze, and his nostrils flared. “I can’t believe you just said that to me!”

“Do you want to know the real reason she turned us down or not?” He didn’t answer, but he was listening. “She thought you were afraid of me.”

In the blink of an eye, his anger was gone, replaced by surprise. “Are you kidding?”

 

“I’m completely serious. She thought I was a bully, and even wondered if I might be abusive.”

 

“Why in the world would she think that?”

 

“Because of the bruise on your eye. And because you seemed to defer to me on everything.”

“Ha!” His laughter was loud and sudden, but just as quickly, he clamped his hand over his mouth. Still, I could see the amusement in his eyes. “I shouldn’t laugh, but really….”

“Exactly.”

 

“Do I defer to you?”

 

“Not nearly often enough. It makes me want to sit her down and tell her who the real bully is in this relationship.”

He rolled his eyes at me, but he was smiling nonetheless. He flipped his hair back out of his eyes so he could look at me directly. More importantly, he finally let me put my arms around his waist and pull him close. “Still, Jonny. I behaved so horribly—”

“The only thing you did wrong last time was you tried to be somebody you’re not.”

“I wanted her to like us.”
“I know, and it’s perfectly understandable, but it’s not you. You’ve never given a damn what people think, because you’ve never had anything to lose. And more often than not, it works for you. You manage to win people over, and the ones you don’t, you happily tell to fuck off and that’s the end of it.”
“I can’t do that with her, though.”
“You
can
, Cole. That’s what I’m trying to say.” He was still doubtful, but he was considering my words, so I kept talking. “This isn’t about what we want from her. This is about what
she
wants from
us
. We have a great home, and a great family, and a great life. That’s a given. All that’s left is for you to do what you do best.”
“And what’s that, love?”
“Charm her.”
He smiled. “You’re getting so good at this flattery thing, you know.”
“I’m serious. You managed to win me over, and my dad. Hell, you even managed to charm Matt.”
He smiled and tilted his head cockily at me. “I did, didn’t I?”
“Yes.” I cupped his cheeks in my hands and kissed the side of his

mouth. I let my lips play over his. “All you have to do is go out there and be yourself, and chances are, she’ll fall in love with you, just like everybody else.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

 

I kissed him again, keeping my touch soft, teasing my tongue along his bottom lip. “Then to hell with her.”

 

He smiled. “I’m still mad at you.”

 

“I know. And I don’t blame you. I’m sorry I lied, but it seemed like the best way.”

“I suppose.”
“So I’m forgiven?”

He laughed. “Not even close, love. You’ll be making this one up to me for quite a while.”
“Sounds good to me.”

A
FTER that, the whirlwind that called itself Cole Nicholas Fenton Davenport the Third took over our home, in a way that only he could.

“Darling, I’m sorry to leave you waiting. I was caught a bit off guard, although I suppose that pineapple Jonny bought should have tipped me off. I’m thrilled to have you here, though. I really am. Let’s not sit in here. It’s the worst room in the house. They call it a living room, but nobody lives here at all. Why don’t you keep me company while I cook? The kitchen really is the heart of our home, after all.”

He took her hand and led her into the kitchen. My father and I trailed behind. The room was clean, yet cluttered. It felt genuine and lived in. A newspaper and some mail littered the table. The air was warm and moist with steam, thick with the scent of lemon and lobster. Unlike the living room, the kitchen had personal touches to balance out the sleek utility of the room. Dishtowels Cole had bought in Burano and potholders my father had given him for his birthday. We had photos on the fridge from our various trips, and my mother’s recipe box sat on the counter. It was a bit more stained and worn than when I’d given it to him, and I thought often of how happy that would have made my mother.

“Jonny, that stool is too hard for Taylor to get in and out of, especially with all that extra cargo she’s carrying. Go get her a better chair. No, not that one! Get the one from the den, and bring her a pillow to put behind her back. And bring that other chair over so she can put her feet up. Now listen, sweetie, I’m so sorry about last time. I wasn’t myself, but I promise I’ll make it up to you. No burned dinner tonight. Now, what can I find for you to drink? Wine’s out, obviously. I know! I have this juice. It’s a bit too thick on its own, but I found out if we add Sprite, it gets a bit frothy, just like that punch with sherbet in it. I used to love that as a child. Do you know the kind I mean? They always served it at weddings, and I thought it was the height of indulgence, really, like a fruity root beer float, although in hindsight, I might have loved it just because it was bubbly and pink. It was scrumptious though. Nobody even needed to spike it. My goodness, I can taste it now. George, check the freezer and see if we have sherbet. We should have done that at our wedding. To think I was ordering wine. No sherbet? Oh well, the juice will do. Now, tell me how you came to live in Arizona.”

She was stunned into wide-eyed silence at first, but it wasn’t long before he had her talking as if they’d known each other forever. She told us about growing up in Tucson and moving to Phoenix in order to go to ASU. She lived in an apartment a few blocks from the college, but three weeks earlier somebody had crashed into her car in the middle of the night. “It was totaled, and I can’t afford to buy a new one. Not right now. It’s okay though, because I can take the bus.”

“My goodness!” Cole exclaimed. He used public transportation all the time in Europe and New York, but never in Arizona. “Is the bus even safe?”

She laughed. “Sure. It just takes a bit longer.” She talked about her job at the coffee shop, and if she should eat sushi since the verdict seemed to be out on whether or not it was allowed during pregnancy. She talked a bit about her prenatal care too. “The doctors say everything is progressing perfectly, but I can’t believe I have four more weeks. Look at me! I’m as big as a house!”

“Honey, you’re beautiful!”

 

“I don’t feel beautiful. I feel like a whale, and my back has never hurt so much in my life.”

Of course by the end of dinner, Cole had sent me on an online search for a used car—and we only settled on “used” after arguing about it for several minutes—and he’d arranged for his massage therapist to see Taylor twice a week, in her own home. Each time I tried to dissuade him, he dismissed my misgivings with a wave of his hand.