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I head over to where the kids are playing and am immediately swamped with hugs and screamed greetings. It feels good, but even I can admit that something is missing. Someone, maybe? I’m not sure because I’ve shied away from relationships and men for so long. I’m not sure I would know what to do with a man if I did find one.
Amelia, who is married to Beckett Banks and the unofficial matriarch of our family, has a big smile on her face as she carries a giant blanket toward me. It seems the kids have decided it is the perfect place to watch the fireworks. They’re not wrong.
“Excited about the fireworks?” There’s something soothing about Amelia, something wholesome and special. I grin and nod as she tilts her head to the side and studies me for a moment. She hands the blanket off to some of the older kids, including her son, 11-year-old Etheridge, before closing the distance between us. “Sarah,” she lowers her voice, “everything okay?”
“Of course,” I say a little too quickly. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
She shrugs one shoulder. “I don’t know, just a feeling. If you ever need to talk, you know everyone is there for you.”
“I know,” I tell her honestly. I bite my lip and nod, looking out at the field which seems to be covered by the people in our family. “It feels like,” I pause, trying to get my thoughts together before forging ahead, “I don’t know how to put it, but like maybe something is missing.”
Amelia makes a humming sound. “Do you think you want to go to school? You’d make an amazing teacher. Maybe we’ve kept you from going after what you really want with keeping you in the playroom all these years,” she muses.
“No,” I say with more force than I intend. “I love helping all of you with the kids. I don’t think school or teaching would be for me.”
I understand where she’s coming from, but the thought of being in classes with that many people scares me. We weren’t allowed to dream, not really, when I was growing up. Being able to help my family and be in the lives of all the kids is more than I thought I would have in this life.
“Are you sure?” She searches my face as I look at her, hoping she believes me. She must find what she’s looking for because she nods. “Maybe it’s time for you to open your heart a little more.”
My eyebrows pull together before I look around, knowing I’ve opened my heart a lot. I love every person here today. “I think my heart is plenty open,” I admit.
Amelia gives me a warm, knowing smile. “I don’t mean us. You’ve never dated,” she points out gently. I open my mouth to tell her all the reasons why, but she holds up a hand. “I can understand why you’ve held yourself back. You grew up around men who were inherently dangerous to you. But you’ve healed so much since then. Maybe it’s time.”
“Maybe,” the word slips from my lips before I can really think it through, but I don’t feel panic at the thought.
Maybe I am ready.
Amelia reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. “When the time is right, the man who will own your heart and keep it safe will come into your life. You just need to be brave when it happens.”
I want to tell her that I’ve never been brave a day in my life, but I don’t get the chance because Beckett wraps his arms around his wife and buries his face in her neck. “Missed you, Baby,” he rumbles.
Amelia giggles, “I just walked away from you like ten minutes ago so I could get the giant blanket from home. Ridge had brought out the quilt Sarah made us, but that isn’t going on the grass,” Amelia sounds affronted at the suggestion, and I can’t help but smile.
Finding something to do with my time and my hands when I’m not with the kids has helped me to find a sense of peace. I’ve made everyone a quilt that matches their personalities. Every new addition to the family has gotten a baby blanket and then I make them a new one when they get a little older. The pride I’ve felt when a new baby is brought home in something I made them is something I can’t describe.
After helping get the blanket on the ground, I sit down and get ready to watch the fireworks. Before I know it, most of the kids have sat around me, with more than one crawling into my lap. I let out a contented sigh because this is a good moment.
I hold onto that feeling as the fireworks fade away and the kids get ushered home. Not everyone lives out here on the land the guys of the rock band Suburban Outcasts, who are part of the family, bought and have built on, but more than a few have. Cole, lead singer of SO, started developing the area with the hope that the entire family would end up here eventually. He’s not too far off from his goal now.
I get hugs from my family before I slip away, needing some space and some quiet after being around so many people today. I love them, but it can be a lot.
Troy’s the last one I see before I head to my car and he leaves a big kiss on my cheek while one of his arms is wrapped around Ellie, the wife he shares with his best friend and fellow tattoo artist, Walsh. His tone is teasing, “Are you sure you want to leave? You know you can crash out here. You could even have a drink.”
“I’m good,” I assure him. “It’s been a long day. I want to sleep in my own bed.”
“Fine,” he holds the word out with exasperation, but it’s not real, the teasing grin on his face shows me the truth. “Love you, Sarah. Make sure you get home safe and let someone know when you do.”
“Of course,” I assure him, even though part of me wants to roll my eyes.
I don’t because it comes from love and his concern is nice. Ellie gives me a big hug and I slip away as Walsh calls out to them from across the field. The family doesn’t ever get wild, not anymore, but I know they’ll be letting loose, at least a little bit, with the kids in bed.
I turn some music on as I start to drive, smiling at the memories I’ve gained today. The good memories I’ve created in the last nine years have almost eclipsed all the bad ones from the years spent with The Community. It makes me feel freer than I have in years, as if the weight of my past is lifting. Or is it possible I’ve just gotten better at carrying the chains of it?
I’m more than halfway home when, suddenly, my car starts to slow down and doesn’t do a damn thing when I press down on the accelerator. I gasp as my heart starts to thud in my chest from fear. When I pull over, thankful there’s no traffic to cause me issues, I let the panic wash over me for a few moments.
I know who I need to call. Ryder, Chloe’s husband, and a man who is the big brother I never knew I needed or wanted, picks up on the second ring. His voice is worried, “Are you okay, Sarah?”
“My car isn’t working. It won’t go when I press on the gas,” I tell him, my words coming out quickly because of how nervous I am. It’s dark out and anything could happen. This is the kind of nightmare all the guys of the family try to prevent. My voice goes a little shrill, “I don’t know what’s wrong with it.”
