Page 6 of Cody

Chapter 4

Alina

I lay in bed for a few minutes after waking from a good night's sleep in my old iron bed. I glanced around my childhood bedroom, feeling as though I had never left. Nothing was changed. Mom had kept it exactly as I’d left it. It needed a new look, and I decided it would be the first thing I tackled when I had the time. But first, I had to get my shop up and running.

I’d had a small, successful coffee and dessert café in California, which I’d sold for a pretty penny after I’d decided to leave and return home. I planned to open a new café in Coldwater, but I still had to find a location for it. There were three empty spaces on Main Street in town. I knew there was already a bakery that served coffee, and I didn’t want to infringe on their business by picking a site that was too close, so I planned to check them out to see what they offered once I got settled at my mom’s house.

I hadn’t planned to move in with my mom after I moved back to Coldwater, but Dan and I had decided that because she’d recently been diagnosed with type 2 diabetes and was getting up there in age, she could use the help and the company.

It felt good to be home again. The night before, Mom and I had enjoyed dinner together, and then spent the evening talking in the living room over glasses of wine between episodes ofThe Golden Girls,her all-time favorite show. For dinner, she’d made boiled cabbage, ham, and potatoes because she knew how much I liked it and then surprised me with bread pudding for dessert. Mom was a great cook, and she was even planning to bake homemade biscotti and bagels for my shop once it opened.

A noise coming from the front of the house drew my curiosity, and I pulled the covers back to get up. It was then that I remembered that Mom had a doctor’s appointment early that morning. I rushed down the hallway, hoping to catch her before she left.

I caught her just as she was about to leave. “Mom, do you want me to go with you?”

She paused at the door and glanced back, smiling in a way that revealed that she was happy that I had returned home. “No, dear, you stay home and unpack your stuff. It’s just to go over some bloodwork. I won’t be long.” She pushed the screen door open and said over her shoulder, “There’s coffee.”

“Thank goodness!” I smiled, and called out after her, “Don’t forget to add me to your contact list!”

“I won’t!”

Mom was sixty-nine and still in good shape but for her recent diagnosis. She was perhaps a little overweight, but she’d always carried it well. She was taller than me—hell, everyone was taller than me—and favored wearing what she still referred to as “pedal pushers” and baggy blouses. Comfort, more than style, was important to her. She kept her silver hair cut in a flattering bob and always added a little lipstick whenever she went out.

I took a second to stop and fill my lungs with the cool morning air that came into the kitchen. In early summertime, the weather was nice enough to open up the house. Later on would be another story, and I’d noticed the night before that Mom had added a window AC unit in my room. As I inhaled several deep breaths, I realized how good it was to be back.

The strong aroma of coffee drew me to the pot on the kitchen countertop. Mom still insisted on making it the old-fashioned way, with a percolator that was almost as old as she was. I would have to learn how to use it, because there was no reason for me to also set up my Keurig. With everything she already had on the counters, there really wasn’t any room for a second coffee maker.

I fixed a cup and then leaned back against the counter to take the first sip. Strong, but good. My gaze moved around the outdated kitchen. The design was straight out of the nineteen-fifties, but everything was clean and functional. It even had a small metal table with a shiny red top placed against the wall. The curtains, I noticed, were new, which I knew because the store tag was still hanging at the top where Mom had forgotten to cut it off.

I spied the package of thawing hamburger meat and the makings for spaghetti sauce on the counter and decided to put it all in the crockpot. A little radio that had once belonged to my dad sat next to it. Mom had left a lot of his things right where they’d been when he was alive. I flicked it on. A smile of remembrance spread across my face when Faith Hill’s “This Kiss” came on. I remembered how much he’d liked that song.

I took another sip of coffee before setting my cup down and going in search of the crockpot. Of course it was buried under the cupboard in the back, right where it had always been. Nothing ever changed. As I reached for it, the distinctive sound of a motorcycle outside told me that someone had just driven up the driveway.

I was buried halfway in the cupboard and almost had the crockpot in my hand when I heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, and then, “Nice view.”

Ohmygod!Someone was at the door!

I jerked at the unexpected sound of a man’s deep voice and bumped my head on the way out of the cupboard. “Ouch!” I rubbed my head vigorously as I stood up and faced the screen door to see who the man behind that sexy rasp was. I wasn’t prepared for the wild flutter in my belly, something I hadn’t felt in years. Cody was standing there, looking all big and manly in a pair of jeans and a wife beater, and a baseball cap that he was wearing on backwards.

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