Page 39 of I Do, or Dye Trying

“Hello,” she said shakily into the phone. She must’ve known it was me from her caller ID screen.

“It’s Gabe, uh Gabriel,” I corrected. “I just wanted to call and let you know that I read your letter and I’m sorry that it took me two weeks to do it. That was horrible of me to make you wait.” I heard my voice break with emotion and cleared my throat while I got control of myself. The sounds of Josh moving around in our kitchen grounded me.

“You don’t owe me any apologies, Gabe,” she said. “I had no expectations when I sent the letter, but I hoped that maybe you’d give me a call. Hope can sometimes be your best friend or your worst enemy.”

“That’s the damned truth,” I said. “Oh, sorry for cussing.”

“Things aren’t looking good if you feel the need to lead most sentences off with an apology,” Bonita said good-naturedly. “I can promise you that I’ve said much worse.”

“Okay,” I said, unsure how else to respond, although I needed to say more because the awkward silence was uncomfortable. “I’m not sure where I want this to go yet, but I just needed you to know that I have never harbored any ill will toward you. Grateful is too lame of a word to use to describe how I feel about my adoption. My mom and dad are amazing people, and I had the most wonderful big brother. You have nothing to be ashamed about or feel guilty because I’ve had an incredible life.”

“I remember Dylan,” she said. “My heart broke for all of you when the private investigator discovered that he died. I am so sorry for your loss, Gabe.”

“Thank you,” I said, once again at a loss for how to respond.

“I’m the thankful one,” she said. “I would love to get to know the man you’ve become if that is something you want someday. I’m going to let you decide what you want with no pressure from me.”

“Yeah, I think I’d like to get to know you too,” I said honestly.

“We’ll take this at your pace,” she said tearfully. “I’ll never pressure you for more than what you’re willing to share.” Her voice broke, and I heard her sniffling through the phone.

“I’ll be in touch soon,” I promised her.

“Okay,” she replied. “I look forward to it. Goodbye, Gabe.”

“Goodbye.”

I disconnected the call and stared down at my phone for several minutes. I felt lighter for having made a decision and pleased that it was the right one. I blew out a relieved breath and smiled up at Josh when he brought our sandwiches into the living room.

“I smell butter, cheese, and bread,” I said, rubbing my hands together in glee. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I know how much you love these things,” Josh said, sitting beside me.

I hooked my arm around his neck and pulled him to me. “Not for the food, although it’s my second favorite thing about you,” I said, nuzzling my nose behind his ear.

“My pleasure portal being number one,” Josh said, waggling his brows.

“No, that’s actually in the third position behind your cooking skills.” I cupped his chin with my hand. “Your heart is my favorite thing about you. No one has ever loved me the way that you do. And do you know what else?”

“What?” he asked.

“I might outweigh you by a good fifty pounds, but you’re stronger than I am where it counts,” I told him. I saw the disbelief in his eyes. “People look at us and think that I’m the strong one, but you are. Look how you’ve carried me for the past two weeks while I sorted things out. I consider myself a tough guy, but you are,” I paused while I searched for the right word, “badass.”

Josh snorted then sobered when he saw that I was serious. “Gabe, I love that you think that but…” I covered his lips with my finger to silence him.

“You are a total badass in everything that you do, whether it’s dance, cook, paint, make your clients feel wonderful, your loyalty to your friends, and in the way that you love me.”

“Even my mating dance?” he asked once I removed my finger.

“Especially your mating dance,” I confirmed. I leaned over and kissed him briefly. “I’m going to eat my sandwiches and drink another beer then I’m going to show you my very own mating dance.”

“This, I got to see,” Josh said then reached for his plate. He began cutting into his sandwich with a knife and fork because the melted cheese on top of the buttery, toasted bread made it too messy to eat with our hands. Josh pointed to my plate and said, “Get to eating and drinking so we can get to the dancing and the mating.”

“Blow me,” Savage squawked.

“Bite me,” Sassy replied.

Damn, I loved my life.