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

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