Page 60 of Brighter Shades of Light
I enjoyed our discussion. It was rare to have a man of science and one of faith have a conversation over such things and it not turn into a huge argument. Cody had his beliefs but respected mine. And I, in turn, repaid him that respect.
“Do you have any chicken stock?” Cody asked.
“I believe so, yes. Check in the cabinet above the stove.”
He looked and did an adorable bouncy dance when he found it.
Watching him throw together seemingly random ingredients fascinated me. Whether the food would be edible or not was another thing entirely.
Once the noodles were cooked, he drained the water and added butter and chicken stock, then stirred them. He searched my spice rack and grabbed the garlic powder, adding it to the pot. In the skillet, he cooked the zucchini and spinach leaves, adding a touch of garlic and butter to them, as well as salt and pepper.
I grabbed two plates and silverware and took them to the table, both intrigued and nervous about the final product.
“Would you like wine?” I asked.
“Oh, getting fancy, huh?” He shot me a grin. “I’d love some.”
As I retrieved the glasses and poured the wine, Cody dumped the vegetables into the pot with the noodles and mixed it all together.
“I hope you like it,” he said, bringing the food over to the table. He scooped a large portion onto my plate before doing the same to his.
Anexperimentwas a great way to describe the dish.
Looking at the seemingly bland noodles and chunks of vegetable mixed in, I braced myself for the flavorless, underwhelming bite. I didn’t want to be rude and hurt Cody’s feelings if I didn’t like it, so I smiled at him before lifting the fork to my mouth.
The burst of flavor that hit my tongue was unexpected.
“Wow.” I chewed and swallowed the bite.
“Good, right?” He started eating, bouncing his knee. Always fidgeting in one way or another.
“How did you make it taste so good with no sauce?” I was amazed by him. He was delightful in countless ways; his silly personality, sweet nature, thought-provoking ideals, and now his cooking skills.
“It’s the butter and chicken stock. You have to make do with what you have. Now eat before you waste away, Doctor.”
“Giving me orders?” I eyed him over my glass as I took a drink. “You’re not a Second Lieutenant yet, Mr. Miller.”
His raspy laugh was the sweetest sound I’d heard all day.
After dinner, I carried the dishes to the sink and rinsed them off. I would properly wash them later, but I didn’t want to waste the time I had with Cody, so I left them for now.
He stood beside the island, drinking his second glass of wine and discussing the origins of Halloween and telling me scary stories. I was entertained, not bywhathe said—I cared little for Halloween—buthowhe said it.
“They say if you don’t have a jack-o-lantern lit outside your front door”—his eyes widened and he leaned toward me, trying to amplify the suspense of his words—“the spirits and demons will be able to enter your home.”
“Mhm.” I met his gaze head-on and angled my body toward him. “I suppose it’s a good thing I don’t believe in ghosts.”
“Really?” Cody finished off his wine and set the glass down. “So youwerejust tryin’ to scare me when you said the house was haunted. Okay. I see how you are, Dr. Vale.”
He walked around the island and placed a hand on my hip. I stepped closer, seeking his touch. Everything about him appealed to me, and I was quickly realizing I couldn’t get enough of him.
“Doyoubelieve in ghosts?” The topic was absurd, but he had me curious.
“Not sure.” He nuzzled the side of my head before resting his face against my neck. “I think when someone dies, either really tragic or violently, energy is left behind. Like their soul moves on, but the horror or sadness stays here. So, in that sense, I guess I believe in ghosts, but not like how most people view them.”
Energy. I understood that. Cody had a strong energy field around him. One that wouldn’t be easily dispersed, even once he was gone. One day, he would leave for deployment or be stationed elsewhere, but everything he touched would stay behind, a reminder he had been here. The glass he drank wine from, the cushion on the couch where he pushed me down and kissed me.
His absence wouldn’t take away the memory.
