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

of the world than most people see in their entire lifetime. I grew up speaking multiple languages. I learned a lot. At this point in my life, I wouldn’t change any of it.”
    “But at the time?” I asked.
    He sighed as if it pained him to do so. “At the time, yes, I hated it. When I was fourteen, I would have given anything to live like a regular American kid.”
    He still hadn’t fully answered Taylor’s question, but it was my father who prodded him. “So what would that mean for your child?”
    “I guess we’d try to find a balance. I’d want her to see the world, but at the same time, I would never do to her what my parents did to me. I expect we’d travel some while she was small, but stay put more often once she started school, and as she gets older, we’d see what she wanted to do.” He looked over at me and smiled. “Although I just said all of that without even once asking Jonny his opinion.”
    I shook my head at him, but I couldn’t help smiling at the same time. “The story of my life.” I wouldn’t have argued with him anyway. We’d be making our way in the dark, like most first-time parents, trying to do what was best for her.
    We fell into an awkward silence. Once again, it was my dad who moved things forward. “I’m getting tired,” he said, “and if I don’t miss my guess, Taylor’s exhausted too.”
    She smiled at him. “I opened the shop at 5:00 a.m. this morning. It’s been a long day.”
    “How about if I take you home? And on the way, you can ask me anything you’re afraid to ask them to their faces.”
    She was struggling to get the weight of her stomach forward enough to stand, so I took her elbow and helped her up, and then we showed them to the door. She stopped in the doorway and turned to smile at us. “We’ll talk again, okay?”
    Cole immediately had a card out of his pocket—one like he’d given me on our first date, with only his name and a number. “You call me anytime, honey. I mean it. If there’s anything you need at all, you let me know.”
    “Okay.”
    “I’m serious. If you have a midnight craving for sushi and pineapple, you call me, and I’ll have it delivered to your door within the hour.”
    “Stop,” I said to him, but he ignored me, and she smiled at us again before following my father down the drive.
    Cole closed the door behind them and turned to face me with huge, hopeful eyes.
    “That went well,” I said.
    “Oh, Jonathan.” And the very next moment, he was in my arms, standing on his toes to put his arms around my neck, his lips soft and warm against my ear. “Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
    I smiled into his hair, breathing in the wonderfully familiar smell of strawberries. Sometimes it amazed me that I could love him as much as I did. Then again, how could I not? “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”
    “A hundred times over.”
    He was happy again. That was good enough for me.

Chapter Eight

    E VEN tempered by caution, hope is a powerful thing. The next morning, Cole was nearly giddy, although he was trying to keep himself in check. He smiled and flirted with me and laughed at everything. I felt as if fate had finally given me back the man I’d married. Now, the flip side of the coin belonged to me. What would happen if we didn’t hear from Taylor? I feared the disappointment would crush him.
    As it turned out, I had no need to worry. Taylor called that very afternoon. I listened intently to Cole’s half of the conversation, wishing we had a landline so I could pick up the other handset and join in. Instead, I was left to piece it all together.
    “You’re welcome, honey. I’m glad it’s working out. Don’t be silly, there’s no reason to trade it for an older model. Tomorrow? Of course! We’ll be here. I’ll make chicken parmesan, how does that sound? See you then!”
    He hung up the phone and turned to face me, his eyes wide.
    Hope and fear.
    “She says she’d like to see us tomorrow.”
    “So I gathered.”
    “It seems like good news.”
    “It does, but don’t—”
    “Get my hopes up. I know.”
    “And don’t buy her any more cars.”
    We had dinner with her the next three nights, once with my father, twice just Cole and I, and each time, Cole’s hope grew, and so did my fear. I did my best to keep my pessimism to myself. Cole didn’t need it. He was in his element now, cooking for her, taking care of her, chatting nonstop and putting her at ease. He asked about her pregnancy