Themes Beg, Borrow, or Steal Sarah Adams

Found Family and Community in Beg, Borrow, or Steal

The Chosen Family Over Blood

Sarah Adams’s Beg, Borrow, or Steal argues that genuine belonging is not inherited but built. The epigraph—a line attributed to Audrey Hepburn, “The best thing to hold onto in life is each other”—signals that human connection will be the novel’s moral center. Across the story, biological families wound rather than heal. Emily Walker lost her parents in childhood and, after her grandmother’s death, watched her siblings turn away from the tight unit they had once been. Jackson “Jack” Bennett endured decades of emotional neglect from his narcissistic father, Fredrick Bennett. In response, both protagonists begin to construct a deliberate “found family” anchored in the small Kentucky town of Rome. The novel suggests that the healthiest relationships are those we choose—and that choosing requires the vulnerability of letting others see our mess.

Rome as a Collective Character: The Model of Mutual Loyalty

Rome, Kentucky, functions not merely as a backdrop but as a protagonist in its own right. From the opening salon scene, Emily narrates the town’s fierce if sometimes smothering intimacy: a petition to break up her sister’s romance, a group photo with Dolly Parton that assembled the entire population, and the unwavering memory of every slight. Yet this same collective memory becomes a safety net. When Jack returns to town, Harriet and Phil—a market owner and hardware-store proprietor—greet him with an immediate, correct catalog of his life and then warn him, “our allegiance lies with Emily.” Their loyalty is absolute because Emily is a Walker, and in Rome, “those Walker kids are ours. Just not by blood.” The town’s protectiveness, however clumsy, offers a template of unconditional belonging that Jack’s own family never provided. By the novel’s end, Jack is fully inside that circle, celebrating Will’s proposal at Hank’s bar and vowing to stay.

Biological Family Wounds and the Hunger for Alternative Roots

Emily’s internal arc begins with grief-induced isolation. After her grandmother Mabel’s death, she feels the sibling system crumble: Noah leaned on his wife Amelia, Annie turned to Will, and Madison buried herself in culinary school. Emily—accustomed to being the fixer—finds no one needing her. She confesses, “I’ve always been able to fix everything for them…but now they don’t lean on me like they used to.” Her secret romance novel becomes the only space where she retains “full, bright, and unwavering control.” Meanwhile, Jack has spent years managing a father who steals credit for his son’s writing and a mother too dependent to leave. He returns to Rome precisely because he envied the “tight‑knit community” he had witnessed while teaching. Both protagonists hunger for a family that won’t demand performance.

Building the New Family: Three Turns in the Plot

The theme unfolds in three movements. First, Emily’s solitary Saturday ritual at the corner table at the Hot Bean demonstrates her attachment to routine as a substitute for human support. She fiercely guards her writing from her siblings, paralleling how Jack hides his identity behind the pen name AJ Ranger. Second, Madison’s unexpected arrival—tearstained on Emily’s doorstep—forces Emily to accept that she is needed even when she herself is falling apart. The sisters cry together, bake brownies, and Emily finally admits, “I really needed this tonight.” That moment re‑knits the Walker sibling bond, showing that found family begins with renewed blood ties. Third, after Jack confronts his father and spirals into self‑doubt, he finds Emily waiting in her truck bed with alcohol‑free ginger beer. She says, “I’ve been worried, waiting for you”; he realizes she offers the safety he never had. In the epilogue, eleven months later, they meet again at the corner table, their professional dreams realized but their emotional anchor unchanged. Jack’s decision to sell his motorcycle cements the trade: he relinquishes solitary thrill for shared peace.

Symbols of Chosen Belonging

Several symbols carry the found‑family theme. The corner table at the Hot Bean is Emily’s writing refuge, then Jack’s meeting place, and finally the couple’s communal spot. It represents a public yet intimate space where the town’s life hums around them—acceptance without intrusion. Ducky the kitten appears when Madison arrives, a small, vulnerable creature that demands care; both sisters smoosh her and promise her a kingdom, externalizing their need to nurture and be nurtured. Emily’s red cowboy boots—bold and unmistakable—mark her as a Rome original, signaling her integration into the town’s identity. Jack’s motorcycle, once his escape vehicle, is sold not because it is bad but because his relationship with Emily matters more than the thrill of solitary speed. Each symbol underscores that belonging requires giving up a piece of individual armor.

Complexity and Contradiction: The Price of Community

Adams does not sentimentalize small‑town life. Rome’s gossip mill can be punitive (the petition against Will, the swift exposure of Jack’s canceled wedding). Emily’s terror of being judged as “harder to love” keeps her silent about her grief. Jack, too, struggles with the vulnerability that true community demands; after standing up to his father, he feels “reeling discomfort” and wonders if he merely threw a tantrum. The novel acknowledges that found family is not a cure‑all. Harriet and Phil’s affection for Emily coexists with their nosy surveillance. Yet the same town that might have roasted Emily for botched highlights also supplies ginger beer, a last‑minute Mary for the Christmas pageant, and an audience that cheers Jack’s coming‑out as an author. The contradiction is the point: real community survives exactly because it embraces imperfection.

Study Questions and Answers

  1. How does the Audrey Hepburn epigraph foreshadow the central theme?
    The epigraph asserts that human connection is life’s most valuable possession. Both Emily and Jack attempt to cope with trauma in isolation—Emily through her secret manuscript, Jack through a pseudonym—but the narrative rewards only the relationships they deliberately build, from sibling reconciliation to romantic trust.

  2. In what sense is Rome a “collective character,” and how does it contrast with the protagonists’ biological families?
    Rome operates as a single organism: it remembers every detail, protects its own, and absorbs newcomers who prove their worth. Unlike Emily’s shattered nuclear family or Jack’s manipulative father, Rome offers consistency and unconditional (if noisy) belonging. Phil’s declaration that the Walker kids are “ours” summarizes a family tree drawn by choice rather than blood.

  3. How does Grandma Mabel’s death reshape the Walker sibling dynamic, and what does it reveal about Emily’s need for control?
    After Mabel’s death, each sibling turned toward a coping mechanism outside the family unit—Noah to Amelia, Annie to Will, Madison to her career. Emily, who had always been the caretaker, suddenly felt obsolete. Her obsessive fixing (mixing the stylist’s bleach, balancing the pie‑shop ledger) fills the void left by lost purpose, preventing her from admitting she needs support.

  4. Why is Jack’s decision to sell his motorcycle a culminating symbol of found family?
    The motorcycle represented Jack’s solitary, risk‑taking identity—a way to outrun pain. Selling it is not merely a concession to Emily’s anxiety but a public statement that her peace is now his priority. The act signals that he has traded a life of isolated movement for a stationary, communal one in Rome.

  5. Does the novel present Rome as an ideal community, or does it complicate the notion of belonging?
    Rome is both lifeline and peanut gallery. The town gossips, petitions against unsuitable boyfriends, and imposes its expectations. Yet those same residents provide pies, celebrate engagements, and accept Jack even after his father’s betrayal. The found family is messy, intrusive, and fiercely loyal—a realistic portrait of how belonging always carries tension between individuality and the collective.