Second Chance Stepbrother(3)

“How is that distracting? ‘Hey Pau, I’m dating someone I like a lot.’ That is a normal conversation. How long have you known this person? What’s she like? Is she one of those Russian mail-order brides? Does she need a visa or something?”

Dad bursts into laughter. I relax, only slightly, at hearing such a normal sound. “Nothing like that, Pau. Don’t worry. I think you’ll like her, honestly.”

I run a hand through my hair. Blow out a sharp sigh. Across the room, Becca appears to have given up on sleep. She’s sitting upright mouthing questions at me. Married?

I pull a face and nod. She, at least, looks appropriately shocked.

It’s not that I don’t want my dad to be happy. I do. I’ve been trying to make him start dating again pretty much since I was old enough to start watching rom coms. Just because my birth mother was a piece of shit who ran out on us doesn’t mean he deserves to be alone forever. He’s basically the best guy ever, so I figured if he ever did start dating, it wouldn’t take long for him to find some willing ladies.

But this seems a little too fast, too willing. Like, suspiciously so. “I just want you to be happy, Dad,” I say, dropping onto my bed and pulling my knees up to my chest. “If you like her, that’s great. I just… It seems weird, is all.”

“I know, honey. It’s not as sudden as it all sounds. You’ll understand when I can explain in person. Just don’t worry. Your new mom is fantastic.”

Ugh. My stomach churns at those words. “Please don’t call her that,” I mutter.

“I’m joking. But really, you’ll see. You will love her.”

“As long as you aren’t doing this for me,” I scold him. “I don’t need some kind of hole filled, Dad. You’re the only parent I need.”

He laughs. “I know, Pau. And you’re the only pain in the ass I need too. See you tomorrow. Oh, do you mind if we go straight to the cabin from school, or do you need to drop anything off at home? I was thinking since I’ll be driving right through the Poconos on the way home, it’d be easier to go straight there.”

“As long as you don’t mind everything I own filling up the car, I don’t care.” I laugh.

“Should be fine. I don’t plan on driving anywhere else once we get there. A few straight weeks of relaxing. Right Pau?”

“Totally. So are you bringing the wife to the cabin? Do I get to meet her there?”

“She’ll meet us there, yes.”

I don’t like the way he said that. Slow and hesitant. “What else?” I press.

He laughs. “You know me too well.”

“Stop dodging the question!”

“It’s nothing! Just, she has a son, too.”

“Dad.” I glare at my phone.

“You’ll like him too! Your step-brother is a great guy. He’s around your age too, so—”

“My step-brother?”

“Gotta run, Pau. See you tomorrow, okay?”

He hangs up on me, and I gape at the phone in shock.

This is all too much.

I could understand the marriage thing. Maybe. I mean, Dad has always been a pretty practical guy, so if he finally met the right lady, he probably figured why not make it official? Why beat around the bush?

Maybe rushing headlong into marriage will help him finally get the life I’ve been telling him he needs to get ever since I left for college. He needs someone around to take care of him, make him eat breakfast and tell him when to go to bed and just… someone to hang out with. Ever since Susan moved away, and Dad stopped hosting his wine-tasting nights, his social life has been in severe medical danger. A wife might force him to have fun again.

And God knows he wouldn’t find anyone the usual way. He hates the internet, refuses any of my offers to set up an online dating profile. And he spends every spare minute of his non-work hours going on vacations, driving around Maine, going scuba diving in Florida or taking longer exotic trips, now that I’m out of the house, as he puts it.

But a step-brother? Ugh. I do not want to deal with some jerk running around ruining our vacation.

At least this summer we’re returning to basics. Step-brother intruder or not, I’m excited. It’s our first time going back to the Poconos, and we rented the same little cabin we did that one summer, six years ago now.

I pad out of my dorm room toward the showers, my clothes over one arm, towel still firmly wrapped around me. As I plunge my head under the warm shower stream, I can’t help drifting back to that summer. It’s still one of the best summers I’ve ever had. Because of my first kiss. Because of Josh.

Josh. I wonder how he’s doing. Where in the world he is now?

My chest aches, but it’s an old pain, a wound long healed over. After that kiss, I thought things would change between us. I thought he’d reach out, maybe visit me outside of our usual family get-togethers.

Instead, he pulled away. We had one last dinner party, two months after that summer—two months during which I heard nothing from him. I tried to corner him, make small talk, but everything felt awkward and strained. Then, halfway through dinner, Susan broke the news. She’d gotten that new job she wanted. In Georgia.

They were moving in a week.

Josh didn’t even hug me goodbye. He waved at the door, shot me one sad smile as Dad and I piled into the car, and that was that. Susan and Dad stayed in touch, but we didn’t.