by Scott, D. D.
Cody came up behind her and took the spoon away for his own taste-test. He then kissed her, transferring the remnants of the bittersweet dark chocolate from his tongue to hers.
“Just like us, JuJu Bee. Most definitely salvageable.”
“You bet your sweet ass,” she said pulling him in for another taste-test.
Chapter Fifteen
Some guys really did have all the luck.
Cody sure did — for now.
But how was he going to keep it if he couldn’t find the balls to walk down the aisle?
Jules’ dedication to him despite her past heartbreak, her independence, generosity, honesty, sweetness and loving kindness inspired him to be a better man. He owed her for helping him get back into the game of life. And putting a ring on her finger would honor her commitment and the love she’d taken a chance on for him.
Growing up with an alcoholic father, and growing up even more when Sienna stomped on his heart, had taught him what he needed to know about pain.
Jules, however, provided a different perspective enabling him to finally bounce back from his Jerry Springer-worthy disasters of life-as-he-knew-it thus far.
If she could take the risk to love again after all she’d lost, he sure as hell could too — and would.
He wanted to marry only once and make it last forever. He’d lost his first bride for a reason, he figured. A reason he sure as hell couldn’t figure out back then. But so had it nailed now. He’d lost her because she wasn’t the right one.
And now that he’d found his soul-mate in Jules, he wanted to make it work. If only he could find the right way to show the consideration, respect, and love he had for her. He was in this for the long haul, and he’d prove it no matter what that kind of commitment took.
He wanted to be the best man he could be for Jules.
Unlike his father, Cody would always think about how his actions would affect the woman he loved and the family he hoped to create with her.
But did he have the right to make a home for them, call them his family, if he didn’t first give them his name?
Jules shouldn’t suffer and doubt Cody’s ultimate commitment to her because of his marital phobia. He had a duty and honor to her to conquer his fear.
For now, though, on account of his mistake hooking up with the wrong wanna-be bride, Jules stood to lose a lot more than a walk down the aisle.
Jules was kicking ass with her bakery and event planning. And Cody would be damned if he’d let the Cruz’s destroy her success.
Sienna and Company could not be trusted. He’d warned Jules, but he wasn’t sure she understood the depth of Sienna’s inability to be loyal when faced with opportunity. Sienna would betray anyone to climb higher on her career and social ladder, regardless of the promises she’d already made.
Jules’ predisposition to look for the good in people could big-time backfire.
Cody wasn’t going to allow that to happen. He’d be there for her like he promised. He wasn’t a bunch of empty words like his old man. His dad used promises drowning in whiskey bottles ‘til they were all dried up, discarded, and shattered. He hurt the people he loved then left them alone to pick up the pieces.
Family mattered. More than career, Cody thought, hammering away at the tidal waves of restless resolve flooding his heart. The family Cody had that was broken and the one he wanted to make with Jules were his priorities. He had to make both right to secure his future.
With Sienna’s rehearsal dinner and wedding a week away, Jules was stomping down the final stretch with every bit of brains, brawn and pastry magic she possessed. Cody wasn’t about to let her go it alone. They were a team — both inside and outside their kitchens.
With Grams and his mom in the diner’s cramped cooking quarters, Cody turned the chunk of hog he’d roasted overnight, pulling off the pork they’d need for the rehearsal dinner.
Jules had planned a huge barbecue for the pre-wedding eve event. Cody would be roasting pigs on sight for show, but most of the meat he’d have to prepare ahead, switching the tender pieces out of broiling pans as needed.
Using his dad’s secret seasoning and sauce, the pork was sure to be a hit. That is — if Cody could get the mixes right. He’d never done barbecue without his dad’s help.
The key was first in the seasonings then in the bourbon, maple syrup and dark molasses. Getting the right combination though would take experimentation.
Cody gathered all the ingredients then got out the large saucepans his dad used only for barbecue.
“So far so good,” Grams said, wiping-off the fried chicken grease from her fingers and onto the second apron she’d annihilated that morning. And it was only a little after eight.
“Who are you kidding? I don’t know what the hell I’m doing,” Cody said, shaking his head.
Angst squeezed his stomach muscles into rigid ropes of ineptitude.
“Like that’s ever stopped you before,” Grams said giving him a catty grin.
“Real funny,” he said, counting on her wise ass remarks to get him through the long week ahead, although he refused to give her the satisfaction of that admission.
With his mom’s depression over his dad leaving, the kitchen was way too quiet except for Grams’ occasional, rowdy outbursts. His mom didn’t say much of anything to either him or Grams, keeping her mind on her cooking and her mouth clamped shut.
Spending the extra time with her this week, Cody hoped to get more accomplished than preparing pork for the wedding. No matter what it took, he would break through his mom’s silence.
He chopped onions with a vengeance, silently cursing his dad every time his newly-sharpened blade hit the butcher block.
The man had put his mom through hell for years then walked away, leaving her a broken woman with a ripped out heart.
With each crunch and slice of his knife, Cody heard his father’s inebriated voice hurling insults and threats.
Cody could always tell when his father had been in too good with Jack Daniels. Even after no more than a couple of drinks, his personality quickly deteriorated from the moody, but measurably pleasant guy he was sober, to a man without inhibitions on his temper. A man who let his anger at the world and insecurities about his place in it be absorbed by the woman he claimed he loved.
Cody knew the routine by heart. As did his mom.
His dad would start by telling her how stupid she was. He’d progress to the opinion that he was the more stupid of the two because he stayed with her. Then he’d boil into a drunken rage. Getting in her face, he’d threaten to take everything they had, including Cody, if she didn’t quit telling him he had a problem with alcohol he obviously didn’t have.
As bad as those moments were, the day after the outbursts was always worse. That’s when his dad would cry. Tell them how much he loved them. How sorry he was. Assure them it would never happen again. That he knew he needed help and would get it.
Cody’s mom would listen to the lying loser, every time, often with her arms around Cody’s shoulders. She’d pat Cody’s back for reassurance, a confidence booster he didn’t know ‘til years later she never believed herself.
Tears teased the outer corners of Cody’s eyes. Damn onions.
He put down his knife and grabbed a dish towel to eliminate any evidence of damage.
He watched his mom as she ground black pepper using the fancy peppermill he’d bought her last Christmas. Every turn of her wrists, twisted and ground his heart until the valves felt like the same coarse, dust-like pieces of pepper trapped in the bottom of the mill.
He breathed in deep then exhaled with a force damn close to pushing through his chest wall.
If he figured out where his dad was, he’d wring his thick neck like the dishtowel he now had wrenched into one helluva knot.
But was his old man even worth going after? Maybe they were all better off without him.
What would Jules’ Buddhist psychobabble solution be?
Cody wanted to talk to her a
bout his dilemma but didn’t want to burden her. She already had way too much to deal with this week. Sienna and Jacques had caused her enough heartache. He wasn’t going to add to that load.
If he didn’t find out something from his extra time in the kitchen, he’d then ask Jules for help.
“I’ll take that peppermill when you’re finished, Mom,” he said, done chopping the onions.
“Those onions sure took a beating. I hope you go a little easier on my peppermill,” she said, handing it to him as if she didn’t really want to for fear she wouldn’t get it back in working condition. “What’s on your mind, Son?”
“If you really want to know, Dad mainly,” he said.
She immediately turned away from him and went back to her work station.
She should have just stabbed him with the meat fork she’d grabbed from her utensil cart. The pain would have been much more tolerable.
“Guess that means you’re still not ready to talk,” Cody said, his gruff tone unable to disguise his frustration.
“What’s there to talk about,” Grams butted in. “My son’s an ass with a real problem. And until he gets his head out of his own ass, we’re the ones suffering.”
Leave it to Grams to chew the issue down to bite-sized morsels of misery. Morsels made of nothing but honest truth, no matter how painful.
Grams hugged his mom with the devotion of a mother, not a mother by marriage.
With two of the three women who meant the most to him now poised to take him head-on, side-by-side, Cody got the hint loud and clear he’d never win.
He shut his mouth then took his frustration out on the peppermill. He’d just have to buy his mom another one.
Finished with the mill, he sulked.
He’d obviously come up way short on additional info about his dad. Now, taking stock of the Worcestershire Sauce and cider vinegar he had left, he realized he was way short there too.
This sucked.
He mentally finagled his plans squeezing-in time for a trip to the store. But he all but gave up on forcing the issue regarding his dad’s whereabouts.
The kitchen door flip-flopped open then shut.
Looking up, he met Jules’ sweet smile. The happiness she carried dissolved a good chunk of the tension stuck in his gut.
How, at times, too many to ignore, he could simply be thinking about her and she’d either call him or appear was uncanny. When they were apart, he constantly wondered what she was doing, what she was thinking, hoping her heart and thoughts were focused on him like his were on her.
Since she’d come into his life, Cody always felt a tug on his heart. The pressure didn’t let-up ‘til she was next to him.
“There’s my sweet girl,” he said, wiping off his hands and crossing the kitchen to her. He scooped her into his arms and kissed her forehead. “What brings you by?”
“I came to check up on my favorite chefs and see how things were going in this kitchen. Plus, I needed to get out of mine for awhile,” she said then laughed in that deep, infectious way Cody loved and hoped to be the cause of for the rest of her life.
“We’re glad you’re here,” Midge said, pulling up a stool and motioning for Jules to sit.
Watching the two of them together, Cody’s heart filled with more joy than he’d ever thought possible. There wasn’t anything like having the women in your life rallied into a cohesive unit. Talk about powerful.
Throw Grams in the mix, there’d be no competitor worthy of the challenge.
“So how’s the barbecue business without your dad?” Jules said then winked at Cody.
How she always read his mind was as scary as it was comforting.
More power to ya, Tiger, he thought, throwing in his towel and letting her have at ‘em.
Grams laughed out loud before speaking.
“Well done, Jules. But Cody already tried and got nowhere. Denied. That’s what the phrase is these days, right?”
“Well, he shouldn’t have been denied,” his mom spoke up. “He deserves an answer.”
“Mom, you don’t have to-”
“Yes I do, Cody. You’ve stood by me all these years, never once questioning why I hung in there when I probably shouldn’t have, for myself, let alone what it did to you.”
She pressed her hands against her apron, her knuckles fading from pink to white.
“Mom, you did what you thought was best. I had no right to ask you any different. And for what it’s worth, I respect your decisions even if I never agreed with them.”
Cody hugged her then pulled out a stool for her, getting one for himself and Grams too.
He stole a quick look at Jules who had taken his mom’s hands in her own. She rubbed her thumbs over her knuckles, massaging away his mom’s troubles like she always caressed and comforted Cody’s heart.
“I gave your dad an ultimatum, Cody. Either he get the help he’s promised us for years or pack his things and leave.”
His mom lowered her head, unable to look at any of them.
Her shoulders shook as she continued, “I haven’t heard from him since. He took just one suitcase. That’s all I know.”
Jules never let go of Cody’s mom’s hands.
She looked at him, leaving the words up to him.
Her forced, awkward silence was balanced by her ever-calm and steady, rich cocoa cream eyes — the endearing and encouraging look Cody had learned to count on.
Her quiet strength and compassion filled his soul with the resilience to face their fears. Knowing she had his back, he charged on.
“Thank you for telling me, Mom. I wish you would have sooner. You’ve shouldered dad’s problems my whole life. You didn’t need to then, and you definitely don’t now. I’m here for you.”
Cody went to her and held her close. The weight of her worries collapsed against his shoulders.
“I’m here too, Midge,” Jules said, handing her a Kleenex from the box under the worktable.
“And we all know I’m here and going to make sure my son gets his ass back where he belongs,” Grams said, banging the wooden spoon she had in her hand against the table, making them all jump.
“So you know where he is?”
Cody’s mom looked up from Cody’s tear-soaked sleeves, sniffling and staring at Grams in disbelief.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was sworn to secrecy, which I’m still technically keeping by not divulging his location. But this horseshit of you both thinking he doesn’t care or love you isn’t right. To raise the morale around here, I’m pulling rank and squealing a bit,” Grams said, pulling a recipe from the pocket of her apron.
“Damn. This is Nashville, the land of country music not New Orleans and the blues. You people bring me down. Here’s the damn barbecue recipe. Now get off your butts and get busy. We have a wedding to cater for that bitch you used to date, Cody. The one that thank God screwed you over before I had to do something to save your stupid ass.”
“Yes ma’am,” Cody said standing up and saluting Grams.
He wasn’t about to argue. With the recipe card tucked in his palm, he could maintain his dad’s reign as Nashville’s Barbecue King.
“Whatever, Jack Ass. Just don’t mess up that barbecue, or I’ll be humiliated. Nobody makes barbecue like a Weiss. So make your dad and I proud.”
Grams then used her tiny-but-mighty frame to block Cody’s path back to barbecue central. Pointing her wooden spoon at his nose, she said, “Your dad’s proud of you, Cody, and loves your mom and you with everything in him. Once he beats his demons, he’ll be back to make things right.”
Cody looked at Jules who was being helped into an apron by his mom. Thanks to her bigger than life, bubbly bravado, his family was on the right track. All they had to do was get through the week then he planned on bringing his dad home and officially making Jules a Weiss of barbecue fame.
If his dad could face his fears then so would his son.
Chapter Sixteen
Taking a bre
ather to evaluate her progress, Jules sank into her chair in the spare storage closet she’d converted into an office at the rear of the bakery.
She was exactly where she needed to be in preparations for Sienna’s wedding.
With a week to go, every dessert had been practiced, perfected, sampled and approved. All things pretty and pink had also been reserved and scheduled by her and her staff for delivery to the appropriate venues.
Jules drew a thick, black Sharpie line through the last party supply store on Jacques’ master list. She’d ran the marker almost dry covering her lists as well as his.
At least along with his laziness, Jacques maintained fabulous connections. She’d used every single contact he’d named.
By always having to-die-for partners and assistants, who knew both the how to’s and when’s to utilize his sources to the max, Jacques had made himself into a sought after, seemingly successful event planner.
Thank God he had the knack of hiring wise to get jobs done. He’d never mastered the art of finishing on his own. Someone else always made him look good. And to Jules’ horror, he’d never been shy about confiscating the compliments he received for their labor.
Just looking at the remaining lists to accomplish between today and four days from now was completely debilitating. With each page she perused, Jules’ temples pulsed.
Jacques’ work ethic, or rather the lack thereof, was repulsive and had cost her and her staff precious time.
She pinched the bridge of her nose then rolled her shoulders, channeling her stress into much-needed vital energy. Only her experience and drive to succeed could maintain her sanity while she reviewed the items yet to do.
And only because she was an insane artist, of her own volition, could she appreciate and thrive on the buzz generated by a creative enterprise of this magnitude.
One of the bakery’s phone lines rang. Taking her mind from her lists, she hoped the call didn’t mean she was about to add to the items left undone.
It had better be Jacques on that line giving her an update on the construction of the custom ceiling centerpiece for the main tent.
