Page 79 of Courageous Hearts

“Yes,” I say with a nod.

“Seems easy enough,” she says. “So why are your fingers drumming a mile a minute on my kitchen table?”

I huff a laugh, stilling said fingers. “It’s not…” I pause, mulling over my words. “It’s not an insignificant gesture—flying across the country on a whim.”

“No, dear,” my mom says, her lips lifting into a smile. “It’s not.”

“So, if I go, they’re going to know how I feel,” I say at last.

My mom tilts her head slightly. “And how is that?” she asks, although I’m certain she’s figured it out.

I don’t say a word, refusing to speak it aloud before I speak it to Bo.

“What’s the problem here, Jameson?” my mom asks softly, curling her hand gently over my arm and squeezing. “Your father and I didn’t teach you to be afraid of love.”

“No,” I say around a breath. “You taught me the importance of waiting for the right one.”

My mom’s inhale is subtle, but it’s there. She squeezes again. “And?”

“And… If I do this, there’s no going back. And what if they don’t feel the same? What if…”

What if I’ve waited all this time to find my Bo, only to lose them before we’ve truly begun?

“It’s too fast,” I say. “Too soon.”

“Who says?” my mom shoots back, releasing my arm and folding her palms around her coffee cup. “With your father, I knew right away. I didn’t need time.”

“Not everyone is like us,” I point out. Grant sure isn’t. He weighs every pro and con before acting.

“No, but you’ve always been my little explorer. Always the one to race into the storm. To wade into the unknown. So what’s holding you back?”

“I might not return the same,” I say quietly.

My mom’s smile is slight. Knowing. “No, you might not. You might return richer,” she says, patting my chest. Silence hangs between us for a moment before she clicks her tongue lightly. “What do we always say?”

“Huh?” I ask, shaking my head a little.

She pats my chest again, more pronounced, right over my heart. “What do we say?”

I blow out a breath as my mom leans forward.

“Courage, dear heart,” she whispers. She gives me a pointed look before sitting back in her seat. “You loved reading those books with your dad. The Chronicles of Narnia. But that volume was your favorite.”

“The Voyage of the Dawn Treader,” I fill in.

She nods. “What was it about that book? What did you love?”

I can tell she’s trying to lead me to my own conclusion, but I answer her anyhow. “The water,” I say. “The sailing and the endless sea.”

Because it reminded me of Dad.

“And when hope seemed lost…?” she prompts.

I smile a little, despite myself. “Lucy never gave up. She kept going, even though she was scared and couldn’t see through the fog.”

Courage, dear heart.

“That’s right,” my mom says. “You truly believe Bo needs you?”

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