Frankie was the football star, following in their dad and Uncle Luke’s footsteps, so the family nearly threw their backs out with applause every time he displayed a basic skill. Hannah was the attention seeker with terrible instincts and a nose for finding trouble. Vinnie was the quintessential middle child who spoke in a language written of resentments. James was the baby, completely dependent on others and the most innocent of all.
And Skylar… She was the most dependable, the one who needed the least care, and was, therefore, the easiest to overlook. As the second oldest grandchild in the family, she’d been a babysitter for every child that came after her—and there were a lot of children.
Thank God she liked kids.
James blew raspberries into the air and sucked on his toy truck. His eyes grew heavy, but it was too late in the day for a nap.
Skylar tried to wake him up with a silly song. “The wheels on the truck go…”
He smiled. “It’s bus!”
“It could be a truck. Sing with me. The wheels on the truck go…”
“Wound and wound!”
“Round and round. The wheels on the truck go round and round, all through the town.”
As they sang, the sleepy glaze in his eyes faded.
Her mom worked in the office up at the lumberyard with most of the uncles during the week. But with one parent reliant on grants and the other stuck in an office at the family business, there wasn’t a lot of extra spending money, especially with three college age kids. No wonder her mom looked so stressed out.
In a family the size of theirs, there were always a million little things that needed to get done. And never enough time to focus on one single issue alone.
No matter how exhausting a big family could be, Skylar couldn’t imagine it any other way. Her family was nuts, wild, always busy, and always bitching about something, but they were the absolute best of the best.
Gran took care of all the grandkids during the day, but there were so many little ones under the age of five, even her invincible grandmother seemed overwhelmed lately. Sometimes Skylar wondered if their family’s record breaking number of offspring was the result of poor family planning or just simply life. Maybe adulting was tough no matter how many kids a person had.
In an attempt to lighten the load, Skylar attended the community college. She’d proven she could be fiscally responsible and make sacrifices for others, but after two years and finally finishing her associate’s degree in Childhood Education, it was time to move on. She wanted her chance to attend a big college—and she planned to do it without costing her parents more money or stress.
“Give me your foot.” Skylar slipped a sock over James’s toes and wrangled his legs into a pair of denim overalls.
“You’re too cute for your own good.” She lifted him and kissed his cheek. “One day you’ll be just as bad as the rest of them with those irresistible McCullough eyes.”
He squealed and laughed when she blew a kiss into the crease of his neck. Her heart burst with warm love and she hugged him tight.
As much as she wanted to travel and have the college experience, being home with her family wasn’t a bad alternative. She loved her siblings and her little cousins. Before long, they’d all be grown. If she left Jasper Falls, she’d miss watching them grow.
The letter in her back pocket seemed to grow in weight as she weighed her options and struggled with indecisiveness. She’d researched financial aid and built a good foundation, but what if her leaving cost others too much? Aside from the minor expenses loans wouldn’t cover, what if her family needed her here?
As she considered this ongoing dilemma, she also wondered if her brother Frankie hesitated in the face of opportunities the way she did. Maybe that was why he got to go to the big college, because he didn’t second guess himself or feel guilty about focusing on his own future and putting everyone else’s needs second to his own.
“I’ll just have to feel Mom and Dad out,” she confided in James. “I’ll tell them my news and see how they take it.” The trick was getting them alone in the same room for a few minutes without any chance of disruptions or distractions. “Sound good?”
“Simba.” James lifted his stuffed lion and roared.
Her return smile was bitter sweet. Not only would she miss her cousins if she accepted the offer to transfer to Shippensburg University—a real college with a football team, branded sweatshirts, and the whole shebang—she’d miss watching James grow.
She grazed her fingers over the letter in her back pocket. She’d been carrying it around for a week, looking for the right opportunity to share her news. Maybe she should just tell them at dinner. She could tell the whole family. Perhaps that would be better—even more exciting.