Coda Books 04 - Strawberries for Dessert (MM)

midnight mass. I was one of those people who never stepped foot in a church except for on Christmas Eve night, and then only because I couldn’t imagine making my dad go alone. Christmas was a time when the ghosts of my mother and sister seemed to haunt him the most. This year seemed worse. I knew he was lonely, but I had no idea how to help. He said goodbye with a voice that was thick with tears. I drove home and went to bed feeling lonely and depressed.
    My phone was ringing at six o’clock on Christmas morning, and I dragged myself out of bed, cursing whoever it was until I looked at the display and saw Cole’s name. Then I found myself smiling.
    “Hello?”
    “I know it’s terribly early there, honey, but it’s four in the afternoon here, and I got tired of waiting.”
    I couldn’t believe how happy it made me just hearing his voice. “I think I forgive you.”
    “I don’t miss you at all.”
    “I don’t miss you either. Please tell me you’re coming home.”
    “Ten more days. Did you have a good Christmas Eve?”
    “It was fine,” I lied, because I didn’t want to tell him how depressing it had actually been. “How about you?”
    “I went to the market at the Avenue des Champs-Elysées. I spent the entire time trying to find you the perfect present, and I failed miserably.”
    “Don’t buy me anything,” I begged. “Just come home and make me dinner.”
    “Is that how it is?” he asked jokingly. “You don’t miss me , but you do miss my cooking?”
    “I’ve been eating frozen pizzas almost every night.”
    “Honey, I don’t know how you ever survived without me,” he said, and I laughed.
    “I’m not sure either.”
    We talked for over an hour, and at the end, I couldn’t believe how hard it was to hang up the phone. I told myself it was only because it was Christmas Day and I was completely alone. I mostly believed it.

    I DIDN’T hear from him again until the first Thursday in January. It was past ten, and I was getting ready to go to bed.
    “Hey, sweetie. I just got in.”
    “It’s about time,” I said, smiling.
    “Did you miss me?”
    “Not at all,” I told him. “Not even a little bit. Certainly not every single day.”
    “Since we haven’t missed each other these last few weeks, I suppose there’s no point in asking you to come and spend the weekend with me.”
    “I’ll be there in time for dinner.”
    “Is that the best you can do?”
    It made me smile, knowing that he wanted to see me as much as I wanted to see him. “I might be able to sneak out a couple of hours early.”
    “Only if you want to,” he said, but I could tell by his voice that he was pleased.
    I wasn’t able to leave quite as early as I had hoped, but I still made it to his house shortly before five. I knocked on the door, but didn’t bother waiting for him to answer. I dropped my bag inside the door, but kept his wrapped present with me. I hadn’t seen him in nearly six weeks, and I was actually surprised at how nervous I was. I assumed he would be cooking, but the kitchen was empty. Not only that, there didn’t seem to be anything on the stove or in the oven. No tantalizing aromas filled the room.
    I found him in the living room, sound asleep. He was wrapped in a blanket, curled into a corner of his couch. His hair had been cut since I had seen him last, and I thought of the butterfly on the back of his neck, which would be completely accessible now. I couldn’t wait to put my lips on it. I crept silently up next to him. He never allowed me any intimacy that was not a part of sex, but I hoped he would be too tired to push me away this time.
    I leaned close, my nose almost in his hair, and breathed in his sweet scent. I moved the blanket off of his neck, and just barely, put my lips against his skin—
    And was immediately slammed in the nose by the side of his head as he startled awake, shoving me away in surprise.
    “Ow!” I said, clutching my nose.
    “Good lord, Jonny! You about gave me a heart attack!”
    My eyes were watering, but I was still pleased that I had shocked him enough to make him say some version of my name. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” I said around my hand, “but I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re home.”
    “Even though you didn’t miss me at all?” he teased.
    “Even though.”
    There were tissues on the table next to him, and he handed me one. “Did I hurt you?”
    “Only a little,” I said as I dried my eyes. “I suppose it