Page 110 of Courageous Hearts

Bo nods, not saying a word, and Dominica Wright pulls them into her tiny, strong arms.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” my mom says softly.

Bo nods again, throat working.

Grant is next to intercept me, giving me a hug and a pat on the back, and then Sophia follows. My sister-in-law looks a lot better than she did the last time I saw her in person. There’s a lightness around her again, and I’m glad to see it.

“Look at you,” Sophia says gently before her gaze swings Bo’s way. Bo gives a tentative smile, and then Sophia is hugging them, as well. When she stands back, she shakes her head lightly, looking between the two of us.

“What is it?” I ask, knowing that gleam in her eye can only mean one thing.

“You two are such lovely shades of pink,” she says, smiling softly.

“Pink?” Bo asks, glancing at me in question.

“The color of love,” Sophia all but whispers before winking and walking away.

Bo gives me a curious smile before Grant is in front of them, holding out his hand. Bo takes it, and Grant pulls them into a back-slapping hug the same as he did with me.

“Welcome,” my brother says. “I’m so glad James has finally brought someone home.”

“He hasn’t before?” Bo asks when they part.

Grant shakes his head, shooting me a little wink. “No, he hasn’t. I guess he was waiting for the right person.”

Grant claps Bo gently on the shoulder before walking further into the kitchen, and when I catch Bo’s eye, they’re smiling, a little blush staining their cheeks.

It isn’t long before my mom has Bo situated in front of her herb pots, explaining all about the different plants, including their names and pruning techniques. Bo pays rapt attention, and I make a mental note to ask my mom to start us a couple pots for our place.

Lunch is a lovely, rowdy affair, and Bo has a grin on their face nearly the entire time. Grant and I go back and forth sharing stories about our childhood, and I don’t even mind telling some of my more embarrassing tales because they make Bo smile the widest.

It’s after we’ve finished eating, while I’m loading dishes into the sink, that I catch Bo and Sophia speaking quietly to one another. I can just make out what Bo is saying.

“…hope you don’t mind that Jamie mentioned it to me, and maybe I shouldn’t say anythin’ ’cause it’s personal, but…it’s just that I never knew my mom. She left when I was a baby.”

Sophia makes a soft, sympathetic sound, and Bo stops talking. When I turn my head to look, my sister-in-law is squeezing Bo’s hand. “Please, go on,” she says encouragingly, even as her eyes are creased in sadness.

“I never knew her,” Bo says again, voice gentle. “And my dad wasn’t good. To me or others. I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is biology doesn’t make someone a parent. Intent does. Love does. And I can already tell you have more love in your pinkie finger than either of my parents had in their entire hearts. You’ll make a great mom, no matter how you get there. And your kids will be so goddamn lucky to have you.”

Sophia inhales a little shakily, her eyes wetting as she holds Bo’s hands tight. “Thank you,” she says roughly before wiping her cheek. “I really needed to hear that. Thank you.”

My chest squeezes, and when I turn back around, Grant is there, his own eyes shining as he gazes lovingly at his wife. “You’ve got a good one,” he says, gaze tracking to me. He clutches my shoulder. “And you’re not giving them up this time, are you?”

“Not a chance,” I reply.

Grant smiles as if he expected as much. “Good.”

“Bo, dear,” my mom chimes, stepping into the room as the crackling voice of Dean Martin fills the house. “Do you dance?”

Bo’s eyes skip to me, a world of humor and warmth in their depths, before they nod at my mom. She grins, waving Bo forward, and the pair of them head into the living room. I follow, leaning against the doorframe as Bo accepts my mom’s small hand. They move slowly together, smiling and talking quietly as one of my mom’s favorites, “Sway,” drifts throughout the room. Two pairs of feet shuffle gently across the carpet, and it reminds me of so many years past.

Gaze sliding to the bookshelf beneath the record player, I find my old, worn copies of The Chronicles of Narnia—the books my dad gifted me when I was young. I read those books probably a hundred times, both on my own and with him. It always made me sad to reach the last page, knowing it was the end, but my dad liked to remind me that the adventure always goes on. The end is never really that. There’s always more story to tell.

Bo and I are new. So very new. We’ve barely even begun. And maybe we’re like that—with a long story ahead of us, waiting to be breathed into life. Waiting to be explored.

I’m going to like that, creating a happily ever after with Bo. I think it’ll be my best adventure yet.

My lips lift into a smile, and Bo catches my gaze from across the room. Endless blue. A never-ending horizon.

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