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

limp on top of me, his tension gone. His sated body felt lithe and supple and warm. “I hate it when you’re right.”
    I laughed. “I know. And you’re welcome.”
    He sighed in quiet contentment as I wrapped him in my arms. I ducked my head and breathed in the subtle scent of strawberries. I held him while he drifted peacefully off to sleep.
    Whatever had gone wrong today, I was determined to fix it.

    I CALLED Thomas the next day. I wasn’t surprised at the wariness in his voice when he greeted me.
    “She has to give us another chance.”
    “I’m working on that, Jon, but I can’t make any promises.”
    “You said she liked us on paper!”
    “Well, yes….”
    “But not in person.”
    It was more a statement than a question, and Thomas sighed. “You weren’t what she expected.”
    “We weren’t what I expected either. Please.”
    “I’m doing my best, Jon.”
    “Can I call her?”
    “Absolutely not. That’s out of the question.”
    “Okay. That’s fair. But would she be willing to call me?”
    “I’ll ask her.”
    “Was it dinner? Was it not having my dad there? What?”
    He sighed again. “Her exact words were, ‘Cole seems like he’s afraid of Jon.’”
    I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. “You have to be kidding.”
    “I’m not. She suspected that you bully him.”
    “I wasn’t bullying him, was I?”
    “He kept apologizing, and he was deferring to you on everything. I realize I don’t know the two of you that well, but I’ve never seen him act like that.”
    “That makes two of us!”
    “And of course, there was the bruise.”
    “But that was an accident!”
    “That’s what every battered spouse says.”
    “But— What? No! Thomas, you can’t seriously think—”
    “What I think isn’t nearly as important as what Taylor thinks. And what she saw was a smaller, more feminine man—no offense—”
    “None taken.”
    “—who had a bruise on his eye and who couldn’t stop apologizing to his taller, more masculine partner.”
    “Oh my God!” I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or cry. Spousal abuse was no joke, but her assessment of our relationship was miles from the truth. “She couldn’t be more wrong.”
    “I’ll let her know that you’d like another chance. And I’ll give her your number. That’s all I can do.”

    F OR two days, I didn’t hear anything from Thomas, and for two days, Cole bustled about our house as if nothing had happened, brandishing false cheer like some kind of shield. My father returned from Europe. I waited until Cole was in the kitchen to whisper Taylor’s assessment of our relationship to him. He nearly choked on his wine.
    “You would never raise a hand to him!”
    “And if I did, you can bet he wouldn’t hang around waiting for it to happen a second time.”
    “Maybe I can talk to her. Maybe—”
    “No. I don’t think that’s an option. Either Thomas will convince her, or he won’t.”
    By the third day, I figured it was over. I was about to call Thomas to confirm that she’d refused to meet with us a second time when my phone rang.
    “Hello?”
    “Jonathan? This is Taylor. Thomas told me you wanted to talk to me.”
    “Yes!” I was in my office in what would have been the third bedroom of our house. I got up and glanced out the door, trying to determine where Cole was. Not within sight, and hopefully that meant not within earshot either. “Thank you so much for calling!”
    “You can thank your friend Julia. She’s the one who talked me into it.”
    I made a mental note to kiss my former neighbor the next time I saw her. “Cole’s so upset about what happened the other night—”
    “It wasn’t his fault!”
    I smiled at the way she jumped to his defense until I remembered her assessment of me as a bully. “I know that. I’m not saying it’s his fault. It’s not anybody’s fault. It’s just….” I floundered. I’d had this conversation in my head a hundred times. How could I not know what to say? “How many meetings have you had with potential parents before us?”
    She hesitated, although maybe it was only so she could count them. “Nine.”
    “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