“It’s been five years since your brother was injured and you still try to keep the military out of your life as much as possible.”
“That’s different. That’s self-preservation,” I add, shooting for a joking tone.
But there’s nothing joking in Bo’s response. “No different. You don’t want history to repeat itself. Neither does Harriet. Same reason you don’t want to buy the diner. You’re scared. There’s no shame in it. You don’t have to conquer every fear. You don’t have to climb every mountain that makes you shit your pants.”
I laugh.
“But at least call it what it is,” he finishes. “It’s fear.”
My shoulders slump over. “I hate that you’re right.”
“I’m always right. Except when I’m at home. Then my wife is always right.”
My smile spreads. “Which makes you right again.”
“Which makes mehappily marriedfor forty-one years.” He chuckles. “You know what makes fear a lot better?”
“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”
“Yep. Sharing it with someone else.”
“You mean Dax.” I say it like a statement, not a question. Everyone at the diner knows I plan on not seeing him after Labor Day weekend heralds the onset of autumn. So I’ve kind of been bracing myself for some words of wisdom from the nosy people around here.
Nosy, but caring to a fault. So I don’t mind.
Maybe there’s even a part of me thatwantsto hear it. I want to be pushed a little. Because the thought of not seeing him again after Labor Day makes me ache inside.
So I brace myself for a lecture from Bo.
“Actually, no,” he says, surprising me. “I meant me.”
“You? I don’t get it.”
“I’d like to make a business proposal.”