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

relationship would be like if your mother hadn’t died?”
    The question brought me up short. “What does Mom have to do with this?”
    “We barely spoke after you came out—”
    “Because you couldn’t handle it!”
    “At first, yes. But that didn’t last long.”
    I fell heavily back onto the couch. “What are you saying, Dad?”
    “I’m saying that I got over you being gay a lot sooner than you probably think. But I didn’t know what to say to you. I didn’t know how to make things right.”
    “You couldn’t just say, ‘I’m sorry’?”
    “Sometimes that’s harder than we like to admit.”
    I looked down at my hands. I’d always known it was my mother’s death that had brought us together, but I’d never considered how different things might have been otherwise. I nodded. “Okay. So what are you going to say to her?”
    “I’m not sure yet. All I know is that it can’t hurt to try. Maybe she’s a heartless bitch like you imagine. But maybe….” He shrugged and turned back to the football game. “Maybe she’ll surprise us.”
    I was skeptical, but I kept my doubts to myself. Predictably, Cole didn’t want to talk about the possibilities, and I didn’t push him. I wasn’t sure what to expect. Even worse, I wasn’t sure what to hope for. I understood my father’s desire to bring Cole’s mom into the fold, but I worried it would only cause Cole more pain.
    We were still in Hawaii a week later when one morning my dad proudly announced, “Grace says she’ll be here.”
    It was early. I’d managed to climb out of bed and wander into the kitchen in search of coffee, but I wasn’t ready to play games yet. “Who?”
    “Cole’s mother.”
    Cole’s mother. Grace. I hadn’t even known her name. “You talked to her?”
    “No, Jon. I used my crystal ball.”
    I ignored his barb. “What did she say?”
    “I had to talk her into it.”
    “She was too busy?”
    “No, actually. She said she didn’t have any plans, but she didn’t want to intrude.”
    That surprised me. It wasn’t at all what I’d expected to hear. My father, on the other hand, appeared downright smug. I refused to give him a chance to gloat. Instead, I poured a cup of coffee for myself and went to tell Cole the news. I wasn’t sure how he’d take it. He might be relieved, or happy. He might be apprehensive.
    I found him just getting up, but however he felt about my announcement, he wasn’t about to betray his emotions. Not even to me.
    “Good Lord, it doesn’t matter what she told George,” he said as he threw off the covers and pushed himself out of bed. He kept his back to me and crossed the room to pick his watch up off the dresser. He spent a long time fiddling with it in order to avoid facing me. “She won’t actually show up. I don’t know why you even bothered telling me.”
    “Because if I hadn’t, and she did come, you’d have been furious.”
    “Fair enough, love.” He sighed dramatically. “Well, I suppose now I have to pretend to believe her and make something she’ll like for Christmas dinner.”
    “Don’t do anything on her account.”
    “I never do.”

Chapter Three

    Date: December 21
    From: Cole
    To: Jared
    Merry Christmas, sweets. How are things in Colorado? I hope it’s white and bright and merry. I hope Santa brings you everything you ask for, and I hope Matt finally lets you put his handcuffs to good use.
    Phew! Give me a minute to think on that mental image a bit more….
    Stimulating, to say the least.
    Now, I suppose it’s my turn. I know I’ve barely written over the last year, but there hasn’t been much to say. We’ve been traveling a lot. We’re in Berlin now, although we leave for Munich tomorrow. My mother is supposed to meet us there. I’m sure she won’t show—she never does—but George swears she’s coming. Honestly, it’s hard for me to care too much. I had one wish for Christmas, and it won’t come true. Jon and I still aren’t fathers. The truth is, I’m terribly, terribly depressed, so much so that I probably shouldn’t even be writing this email. I shouldn’t be sharing my lack of holiday cheer. Jon and I continue to wait for word from Thomas. The longer we wait, the more helpless I feel.
    You told me a few months ago that the last thing you and Matt would ever want is a child. You said dealing with the dog was as much as you could handle. I understand that. I really do. I know the two of you are happy simply to have each other. Your