Page 121 of When Wildflowers Bloom

She laughs, eyes lifting to mine with the same warm expression on her face. “It’s going to be wonderful.”

Huck moves his legs in place next to me like there’s too much energy in them, and I don’t hide my laugh or the watery line that fills my eyes.

I can’t change that Veda died or how Bo and I couldn’t make it work, but standing here, next to a little boy who can’t wait to come home with me, with a room full of people that want to see that happen, things feel less grim. Like life, a constant changing of seasons, knows just how to give what needs to come next.

“Sometimes, kids like to bang the gavel to make it official,” she says to Huck, holding the wooden hammer in the air toward him.

He looks up at me and I nod, which is all he needs to run to where she’s sitting. He takes the gavel from her and bangs it down loudly.

“I’m going to call Birdie Mom now!” he yells.

She laughs while everyone else claps, not a dry eye in the room, as he runs back to me.

“I love you, Huck,” I tell him, crouching down to hug him.

“I love you, Mom!” he shouts back, nearly making me collapse with the breathtaking beauty of the sound.

Then we’re outside, the usually elusive November sun shining brightly, warming us in the cool air.

It’s another round of hugs andthank yousto everyone that showed up for us. Happy tears never stop falling down my cheeks for the people I didn’t know to dream of wanting to be here for me.

At the very end, Bo’s waiting, leaning against a column—looking way too good in a button-down white shirt, blue jeans, and blazer with his hair pushed back—and Huck instantly runs over to him, giving him a high five.

“Birdie’s my mom,” he says loudly. “We’ve been watching you build your cabin. It’s almost done!”

Bo laughs. “Close, but there’s still that pipe that needs a toilet,” he says, tapping his chin, making Huck bark out one of his laughs.

My eyes are glued to Bo. Once again,He’s here! clashes withHe’s. Here.

My dad walks up, extending his hand out toward him. “Good to see you again, Bo.”

“Greg,” Bo says, shaking his hand. “Big day for this guy.” He tilts his head toward Huck.

My dad smiles, looking at the beaming eight-year-old. “It is.” He looks at me, then, “Huck, Lucy’s at the fountain over there andyou can make wishes with pennies. I think we should try that out. Maybe wish for Birdie to take us to get some ice cream.”

That’s all it takes, and they’re both gone, Huck running at full speed.

Then it’s staring: me at Bo, Bo at me.

“Thank you for coming,” I finally manage to say. “And for whatever source of wizardry this was.” I gesture to the people around us.

He laughs under his breath. “No wizardry. Turns out, people want to show up if you let them.”

I look around, all the people that I know and love that I never considered as feeling the same about me. Here. Loving me right back.

And Bo.

As much as I don’t want it to be true, as much as I want to protect him from all the ugly that my life might contain, I love him. Endlessly. Looking at him look at me, I know it. Regardless of my genes and what that may or may not mean for the rest of my life.

I love him the way Veda hoped I would.

“B—”

“Daddy! I’m starving! Can we go eat?” Lucy’s voice makes my own vanish as she runs up to us.

Bo’s gaze drops to hers before lifting to mine. “Lunch sounds great, Lucy Goosey. Tell Huck and Birdie bye.”

It’s hugs, high-fives, and my unspoken words a whisper in the wind.

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