Coda Books 04 - Strawberries for Dessert (MM)

unbelievably arousing. It was deep and passionate. It was the kind of kiss that would normally have led us straight to the bedroom. That is, it would have if my dad hadn’t been there. And if he hadn’t chosen that very moment to walk into the kitchen.
    “Hey Jon, do you—Oh shit!” He turned around and walked right back out, and Cole let go of me, laughing.
    “It’s okay, George,” he called out as he turned back to the pot on the stove. “You can come in now. I promise to wait until you’re gone to rip Jonny’s clothes off.”
    I was surprised, once the food was on the table, to see that it was not a meal he had ever made for me before. It was beef stroganoff with egg noodles. My dad was oddly quiet as he put the food on his plate.
    Cole didn’t seem to notice. He was standing next to my dad’s chair, opening another bottle of wine. I took a bite, and it was so wonderfully familiar. It hit me all at once.
    “This is my mother’s recipe,” I said, and Cole smiled at me.
    “It is,” he said, and I could tell he was pleased that I had made the connection.
    It was such a simple thing, and yet I couldn’t believe how one small bite brought back the memory of my mom. And of countless family dinners, all of us at the table together. It felt like suddenly she was there with us again, in spirit at least. “It’s perfect,” I said. “Dad, did you—” But I stopped short when I looked at him. He was still staring at the food on his plate, and there were tears on his cheeks.
    “Dad—” I started to say again, but Cole had turned to look at my dad at exactly the same time.
    “Oh George,” he said in dismay. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry!”
    And looking at Cole, I could see how horrified he was at having caused my father to cry. “It was a terrible idea! I don’t know what I was thinking! I should have realized. I should never have surprised you like that. Let’s go out instead,” he said, reaching to take my father’s plate away. “We can go to that new place down the street—”
    Before he could finish, my dad stood up. He turned to Cole.
    “George,” Cole said again, “I’m so sorry.”
    My dad reached out and grabbed the front of Cole’s shirt.
    I stood up from the table, thinking my dad might actually be about to punch him but knowing I would never get to the other side of the table in time.
    And then—he pulled Cole toward him and wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tight. “Thank you,” I heard him say hoarsely.
    If it weren’t for the fact that my dad was crying, the whole thing might have been funny. Cole was completely stiff in my father’s arms, and the look on his face was bordering on absolute terror. He seemed to be looking at me for help. One of his arms was pinned to his side by my father, but his other arm was loose, and he was waving his hand frantically in my direction, like I might be able to rewind the whole incident and play it back without the awkward hug at the end. It was all I could do not to laugh at his obvious distress.
    My father finally let go of him. He stepped back to his chair and sat down, as if nothing strange had happened at all. “Originally,” my dad said as he dried his eyes with a napkin, “this was my mother’s recipe. But Carol did something different to it.”
    Cole still looked a little bit shaken, but he managed to say, “She added sherry to it.”
    My dad looked up at him in surprise. “Is that all?” Cole nodded.
    My dad laughed, shaking his head. “My mother never forgave her for that.” Whatever emotions had overtaken him momentarily, he was back to being himself and was digging in to his plate of stroganoff enthusiastically.
    Cole looked at me, obviously still a little upset, with a mute question in his eyes. “It’s really good,” I told him, and he relaxed again, if only a little.
    “I wanted to surprise you. I should have realized—”
    “It’s fine,” I told him.
    “Okay,” he said shakily. “I’ll just… I’ll get us some butter,” he said, and disappeared into the kitchen.
    We didn’t need butter. I knew he just wanted a minute to get his bearings back. “He didn’t mean to upset you,” I said to my dad. “He’s looked through the box a lot. You wouldn’t believe how much he learned about Mom from reading her recipes.”
    “I think it’s great, Jon,” he said. “And she would have thought it was great too. I think she would have liked him.”
    “You really think so?”
    “I’m