Coda Books 06 - Fear, Hope, and Bread Pudding (MM)

if contemplating her next move. When she opened them again, she looked at Cole. “It’s true that all this time, I’ve continued to think of it as your father’s money rather than yours. If you need to give me less—”
    “No,” Cole said to her. “It’s fine.” He glanced at me sideways rather than turn to face me. “Jon, stop. Please.”
    I slumped in defeat. I wanted to defend him, but in doing so, I was making things harder for him. I held up my hands in surrender, but I didn’t apologize to her. I wouldn’t go that far.
    Cole sat up straight to face Grace and let his hair fall away from his face. “Next year, we’ll stay in the States if you like.”
    She was still watching me, probably waiting for another argument. It was my father who spoke. “We might want to stay in Phoenix by that time anyway. After all, you might be parents by then. Trust me, traveling with a child isn’t as easy as you might think.”
    “Don’t be silly,” Grace said, picking up her wine glass. “That’s what nannies are for!”
    “There won’t be any nannies,” Cole said, his tone sharp enough to draw blood. “I’m not going through the heartache of adopting a child just so somebody else can raise him.”
    “I see.” She set the glass back down. She put her fingers on the base and swirled it in small circles. She kept her eyes on the tiny whirlwind of wine rather than face him. “I suppose only inadequate parents resort to such things.”
    Cole continued to watch her, a silent challenge in his eyes. “You said it. Not me.”
    She released her glass and let the wine settle again. “I see.” She dabbed at her lips with her napkin and began to stand. “If that’s how you feel—”
    “Sit down!” my father said. It brought Grace up short. He glared at her until she obeyed, then turned to address Cole. “Isn’t it time for dessert?”
    Cole nodded stiffly. He pushed his chair back and stood up slowly, as if it pained him. He was stalling, although I wasn’t sure why.
    “I’ll help you,” I said. Together we gathered the dishes and took them into the kitchen. The room smelled like fresh brewed coffee. The bread pudding waited on the countertop. He already had bowls out. A pan of warm whiskey sauce sat on the stove. Cole stood in front of it, staring at it as if it had betrayed him. He made no move to dish it up.
    “What’s wrong?” I asked.
    “It’s ruined.”
    I glanced down at the pan. “It looks perfect to me.”
    He shook his head. “You don’t understand.”
    That was true. I had no idea what was going on in his head. “I’ll get this. Why don’t you get the coffee?”
    He nodded and went to do it, but it was like he was sleepwalking. His mind was on something else entirely. We were only in the kitchen for a minute or two, and when we came back out, his mother’s expression was still angry.
    “Bread pudding?” my father asked. “That’s a change.”
    “I think he made it for Grace.”
    Cole froze, and I knew I’d made a mistake by saying it out loud. Grace stared down at the dish in front of her. She contemplated it silently for a long moment. Then, she pushed it aside. She looked directly at Cole and said, “I have no idea why. I’ve never cared for it, myself.”
    She probably didn’t notice that he winced, because he covered it by flipping his hair out of the way. He sat down and picked up his spoon, although he made no move to eat.
    My father either didn’t notice or didn’t want to acknowledge the strange battle going on in front of us. He reached over and took Grace’s dessert. “Suit yourself. More for me.”
    The bread pudding was good, the best I’d ever had, but I could barely eat. I tried to watch Cole without being too obvious. He didn’t eat a single bite. My dad made up for us all by enthusiastically wolfing down both his own and Grace’s, and then getting himself a third helping.
    The rest of the afternoon was unbelievably awkward. Cole and Grace didn’t speak at all, avoiding not only each other, but my father and I as well. My dad overcompensated by babbling nonstop about the German programs on TV. It wasn’t until the end of the day, as I was throwing away a lone curl of ribbon I’d found on my dad’s chair, that I saw the bread pudding. The pan of leftovers was in the garbage can, glass dish and all.
    I fished it out. The dessert itself was ruined, but I cleaned the dish and put it safely away in the cupboard. I found Cole in our room, getting