Page 7 of Dean Daddy

“We drove in to surprise her but I guess we’re the ones getting the surprise,” my new stepfather says.

“Where is Marcie?” My mother’s voice is getting louder. She’s inside the apartment now and probably heading to the bedroom to make sure I’m not naked and tied to the bed.

“She just went to the bathroom. She’ll be right out. Dad, how have you been?”

“Good and you?”

“Doing well. Thanks,” Mason answers.

“Does Marcie have a television in here? We thought we heard something,” my mother says.

“Oh, no. We were watching a video on her phone. It was loud,” Mason tells her.

“Must be why you couldn’t hear us knocking.” His father’s tone tells me that he doesn’t believe a word of it.

“Marcie? Are you coming out?” My mother raps on the bathroom door.

“Just a second mom,” I shout. I turn on the water and pretend to wash my hands. I look at the tiny bathroom window and wonder what would happen if I slipped through it and took the two-story drop to the street below. How am I going to hide the guilt on my face? My mother is going to see right through me.

When I come out of the bathroom, Mason makes eye contact with me. I can see from his expression that he’s just as uncomfortable as I am.

“What are you guys doing here?” I ask.

“We came to welcome you home but it looks like you’re having your own celebration,” my mother balks.

“Maybe we should come back in the morning and take you out to breakfast,” Mason’s father says, trying to defuse the situation.

“Yes, I think that’s a good idea. We’ve already eaten dinner, and as you can see, I don’t have any furniture for you to sit on yet,” I agree.

“Mason, why don’t you walk us out?” he adds.

“Sure. Marcie, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he tells me and follows his father and my mother out the door.

If my mother had any doubt that something was going on between us, I’m certain that my horror-stricken look and disheveled appearance told her the dirty truth. I have no idea how I’m going to face them on my own in the morning.

5

ALL IN THE FAMILY

MASON

My father and his new wife walk ahead of me and I follow them to their car. He unlocks the doors, and she wastes no time getting in and closing the door without so much as a goodbye muttered in my direction. He turns and leans against the hood, shaking his head at me.

“This is going to be a problem, Mason,” he scolds me.

“What is?” I ask, clenching my fists by my sides.

“She’s your stepsister,” he whispers as if someone on this empty city street will overhear.

“Not really. When you think about it, she’s just your wife’s daughter. If she and I had met first, would I have the right to tell you that her mother was off limits?”

His face reddens, and he begins talking with his hands. That’s always been his reaction when he’s overwhelmed.

“That’s a ridiculous analogy because I would never presume to get involved with the mother of one of your girlfriends,” he stammers.

“So, you wouldn’t mind missing out on the life you have with Sharon? She doesn’t mean that much to you?” I put him on the spot and this only serves to fuel his anger.

“Again, Mason, your hypothetical scenarios are ridiculous and juvenile. We don’t behave this way. She’s a young, impressionable girl and my marriage made her your sibling, period. There’s no other way to look at it.”

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