Piece of My Heart (Fostering Love 4)

“Neverland,” Sarai murmured, walking into the middle of our camp. She turned in a slow circle, taking it all in.

“What?” I picked up an old spoon that was half covered in dirt and absentmindedly set it on one of the ladder boards.

“I can imagine you here,” she said with a little laugh. “A little lost boy, with your fur cape and a stick taller than you in your hand.”

“More like a pair of ripped jeans and an undershirt that my mom accidentally dyed pink in the wash,” I replied, grinning. “My parents were real serious about wearing play clothes outside.”

“I love it,” she said, smiling. “This place is awesome.”

“One time,” I said, leaning against a tree while Sarai investigated all the little bits and pieces that we’d left behind, “Bram was in this horrible mood—he was like that, sometimes—and me and Kate dragged him out here. We made him sit in the middle of the fort in a chair, and we acted like he was a prisoner of war.”

“This story is taking a dark turn,” she murmured.

“So he’s sitting there with a scowl on his face.” I stared blankly at the branches in front of me, thinking about those days when Bram barely smiled. I shook my head to clear the memory. “Anyway, we sat him down and took turns being funny. You know, I’d make funny faces. Kate would dance really dramatically. But nothing would make him smile, not a single damn thing we did. And then Kate starts singing. I don’t remember what song it was, but Bram just starts cracking up, you know? Really belly laughing. And we’re both staring at him, because Kate was singing in this really sweet voice, beyond trying to make him smile at this point, just trying to make him feel better.”

Sarai stopped what she was doing and looked right at me, her eyes soft.

“He wouldn’t tell us what was so funny. He never said.”

“You never figured it out?” she asked quietly.

“Oh, I figured it out. A couple years later, I heard the song on the radio, and it was absolutely filthy.”

“No,” Sarai said with a small surprised laugh.

“Oh, yeah. Kate and I had no clue she was singing a song about sex, and she’d slowed down the tempo to make it all soothing.” I tried to speak through my guffaws, but tears of laughter filled my eyes. “But Bram knew immediately what she was singing about, and found it hilarious that Kate and I were so serious about it.”

Sarai’s laugh came from deep in her belly, and she bent over slightly, holding her stomach.

“And then,” I gasped through my laughter. “He wouldn’t ever tell us what was so funny, so Kate just kept singing it all soft and sweet, and Bram kept laughing, and I just stood there like an idiot, motioning for her to keep going because my brother was actually laughing and I didn’t even care why.”

“That’s hilarious,” Sarai said as our chuckles finally subsided.

“That was us.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Bram was sullen, Kate was tenderhearted and sweet, and I was the clown.”

Sarai moved forward and wrapped her arms around my waist. Tilting her head back, she pursed her lips for a kiss. It was an invitation I’d never refuse.

Her lips were soft and pliant, but her arms around me were firm. The feeling was solid. Like the kiss was sort of fleeting, just a moment in time, but the embrace was lasting. Permanent.

“I can’t wait to marry you,” I said quietly, there in my favorite place in the world. “I know my proposal kind of sucked, and I’ll do it right when I have a ring.” I brushed little pieces of hair away from her cheeks. “But I want to marry you. I want to live together and pay the same bills and wake up with you in the morning, and get you takeout when I know you barely have time to stop and eat. I want to make sure you’re getting enough rest and let you patch me up when I do stupid shit like try to slide during softball practice. I want to come home to you after a shitty day and know that everything will be better as soon as I walk into our house.”

Sarai was smiling gently at me, but her eyes were watery like she was fighting back tears.

“And at some point,” I said, my voice starting to wobble. “I want to have babies with you. Little tan babies with dark-brown eyes and your smile. My eyelashes, because we both know mine are better.”

Sarai laughed. “They are,” she choked out.

“I want to get old and fat with you,” I said plainly. “Because I want to be in a place with you that none of the outward stuff matters. You’ll spend entire weekends with no makeup on your face, and I’ll get a little bit of a gut because I know that you’ll still ride me like there’s no tomorrow even if you can’t see my washboard abs.”