Page 17 of Not Quite Perfect

“We didn’t,” I answered. “I mean, she was perfectly lovely, but there wasn’t that spark—for either of us.”

“That’s too bad. I was looking forward to all our double dates.”

“No, you were looking forward to making me come along to all the places Gwen drags you that you don’t want to go.”

He laughed. “Guilty as charged. But if not Greta, who? Last I checked, you were single and ready to mingle. Did you manage to meet someone between Sunday and today?”

“No, it’s not like that. It’s my dad’s new wife’s daughter.”

“You mean your stepsister?”

I made a point ofnevercalling Victoria my stepsister. It made me feel less like a creeper to describe her as some random familial connection—like a third cousin twice removed—instead of someone I was bound to spend the upcoming holidays with.

I didn’t know how Victoria’s family did Thanksgiving and Christmas, but I’d once spent winter break with Hank’s family, and his sister had paraded around in threadbare flannel pants and a tight little tank top. When Hank had pointed out how inappropriate it was, she’d rolled her eyes and said, “What? We’re all family here,” before shoving a spoonful of Cheerios in her mouth.

I hoped to God if I had to spend Thanksgiving weekend with the Witherspoons that Victoria wore lots of thick, baggy sweatshirts.

I dropped my feet to the floor, and my chair sprang forward. “I’m trying not to think of her that way.”

“Oh shit, you’ve got the hots for your sister.”

I started to protest, but then stopped myself. I could lie, but Hank would see right through me. Instead, I stared out the window for a second, debating how best to answer. The view from my condo wasn’t much, but on the upside, it was cheap. I sometimes missed the house I’d lived in during grad school, but at least this place had room for all my stuff. Not like the shit-hole studio I’d moved into right after my divorce.

During those dark days, as I’d slept alone on my twin mattress silently stewing about the capriciousness of women, I’d told myself I was never going to fall in love again. But one night with Victoria and I was ready to put myself back out there. Yes, our parents were married, but it wasn’t like we’d grown up together or anything. There was nothing sordid about us being together.

In fact, how we got together was acutestory. Surely people would find it charming.

Only one way to find out ...

“Remember me telling you about the woman I met on the ferry last month?”

“No fucking way!”

“Yes, fucking way,” I said, pushing out of my chair and making my way across the room to my galley-style kitchen. Tugging open the fridge, I pulled out a can of beer and popped the tab. “And it was the single best night of my life.”

Hank chuckled. “That’s … I don’t know man. Is that weird?”

I blew out a breath. “At first I thought it was. Like you said, technically, she’s my stepsister. Our parents are married, and by all accounts, happily. But I met Victoria before they said their vows. And I swear to you, I didn’t have a clue who she was. The only thing Ididknow was that I couldn’t get enough of her. I haven’t felt that way about anyone, ever. Not even that viper I married.”

“Wow,” he said, drawing the word out. I could picture him rubbing his beard thoughtfully.

“Yeah, wow.”

“What are you going to do?”

I took a deep pull on my beer, enjoying the juicy explosion of hops on my tongue. Some people didn’t like New England style IPAs, but they were my favorite.

“Long term, I don’t have a clue. In the short term, I think asking her to the lecture is a nice gesture. Aside from the fact that I enjoy spending time with her, I know it’s a topic she’ll be interested in. If it turns out the spark is still there, we can discuss how to handle it like two mature, consenting adults. Hell, for all I know, our night together was a fluke. Either way, I’ll know before I have to see her again this weekend.”

“Wait, you’re seeing her this weekend, too?”

I groaned. “Our parents have started hosting family dinner night every Sunday. I’ve skipped the last three.”

“Family dinner night? People still do those?”

I finished my beer and threw the can into the recycling bin. “Roni and my dad are determined to have all their kids act like one big happy family. If I hadn’t spent the night before their wedding with my face between her daughter’s legs, I wouldn’t see the harm in it. But since I did, I’ve been avoiding the entire spectacle. My dad’s pressuring me not to skip this one.”

“Why don’t you guys just come clean with everyone?”

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