The Step Sister (Sister Series, #10)

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The Step Sister (Sister Series, #10) Page 1

by Leanne Davis




  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Epilogue

  The Step Sister

  by

  Leanne Davis

  The Sister Series, Book Ten

  www.leannedavis.net

  Table of contents:

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Other Titles by Leanne Davis

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  My Other Titles

  About the Author

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  The Step Sister

  COPYRIGHT © 2017 by Leanne Davis

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Publishing History First Edition, 2017 Digital

  Digital ISBN: 978-1-941522-49-3

  The Sister Series, Book Ten

  Edited by Teri at The Editing Fairy ([email protected])

  Copy Editing: Jeannie Brooker

  Cover Design by Steven Novak ([email protected])

  Dedication:

  In honor of thirty plus years of Puget West Construction.

  My family’s small business was more like a fifth family member to me while growing up. It employed many people, including myself, and provided so much more than just financial profits.

  Goodbye, PWC and with its closing, the last of

  The Fletchers.

  Other Titles by Leanne Davis

  Diversions

  River’s End Series

  River’s End

  River’s Escape

  River’s Return

  River Road

  River on Fire

  River’s Lost

  River of Change

  The Sister Series

  The Other Sister

  The Years Between

  The Good Sister

  The Best Friend

  The Wrong Sister

  The Years After

  The Broken Sister

  The Perfect Sister

  The Lost Sister

  The Remaining Sister

  The Step Sister

  Daughters Series

  Christina

  Natalie

  Melissa

  Emily

  The Zenith Trilogy

  Zenith Falling

  Zenith Rising

  Zenith Fulfilled

  The Seaclusion Series

  Poison

  Notorious

  Secrets

  Seclusion

  Prologue

  “SHE DIDN’T SHOW UP.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be there… soon. You know your mother…” Tracy’s voice trailed off.

  “No, Mom, I don’t. I don’t know ‘my mother’ nor do I get her all. That’s why I’m calling you,” Julia Lindstrom said, resting her head on the post she leaned against. It supported the awning in front of her doctor’s office. Correction, psychiatrist’s office. Rain splatted down, making the puddles ripple with sparkles before her.

  Tracy Lindstrom sighed on the other end of the line. “I’ll be right there.”

  “Aren’t you always?” Julia’s snide tone made her wince. Tracy didn’t deserve the dressing down when it was really about Vickie Stratton, her natural mother. But Tracy was her aunt-turned stepmother and the only woman Julia considered her real mother, even if biology argued differently. Tracy raised her in reality, sparing her the erratic, precipitous life that Vickie subjected her to. Julia couldn’t even remember when her mother wasn’t Tracy. Her father married two sisters; the first was Vickie, with whom he had Julia; and after they divorced, he married Tracy.

  Naturally, Julia couldn’t remember all the drama and shock surrounding it because she had been a baby. She considered Tracy her mother. Not her aunt or her stepmother. Not her goddamned second mother as some people tried to play it off. No. Tracy was her mother. Mom. Mommy. Mama. Whatever you called that role, Tracy filled it one hundred percent as far as Julia was concerned and despite all the efforts of the people who pretended to practice misled diplomacy toward it all. They called Vickie flighty, shallow, erratic, and crazy but still considered her Julia’s “real” mom. Even as a child, Julia ignored them and called Tracy Mom from the time she could speak. She wasn’t as concerned as everyone else seemed to be about hurting poor Vickie’s feelings. As far as Julia was concerned, Vickie deserved it.

  Julia sat down on the curb and waited for Tracy. Glancing behind her, the idea that she could be waiting inside her aunt Gretchen’s office crossed her mind. Gretchen had a psychology practice there. Julia was currently seeing one of her colleagues. But Julia decided she didn’t want to talk right then, and set her ear bud in her ear before starting her music. Plucking at the frayed threads of her jeans, she frowned as she stared down.

  Why the hell couldn’t Vickie ever remember anything? She certainly always seemed to forget Julia. Almost everything Julia or Tracy asked Vickie to do for Julia never got done. If Vickie was with her husband, Dane, however, she somehow managed to show up. Vickie only remembered her obligations because Dane reminded her. If she was asked to do something motherly without another adult’s supervision, meaning Julia’s dad, Tracy, or Dane, and if left strictly to her own devices, Vickie always screwed up.

  Julia’s phone rang. Glancing down, she groaned. Vickie.

  “What?” she answered without preamble.

  “I’m sorry! I know I’m late. I’m leaving right now. I just—”

  “Forget it, Vickie. I already called Mom.”

  Vickie sighed. “Must you insist on calling me Vickie and Tracy Mom? Right to my face?”

  “Yes. I have to. Because it’s true,” Julia answered in a cool, snippy tone.

  Vickie let out a sigh. “I’m sorry. But this time… well, some things are going on—”

  “Something is always going on with you, Vickie. Why can’t you try just once to keep your word and do what you’re supposed to be doing?”

  “It’s just… Dane and I…”

  Julia gripped her phone tighter, shutting her eyes. “What did you do? Oh my God. Are you divorcing him now?”

  “Um… well… yeah. But look, honey—�


  Julia hung up and ignored two more calls from Vickie. She huddled on the curb, hot tears filling her eyes. Damn it! She liked Dane. He was nice to her. The reason that Julia ever got picked up on time. Now? Vickie ruined it, and Dane too, no doubt, just as she ruined everything she ever touched.

  Tracy’s sedan pulled up and Julia ducked inside and plopped down on the seat. Tracy looked like what a mother should look like in Julia’s perception. She had shoulder-length, red hair, which she kept colored to hide the gray. There were a few wrinkles around her eyes, not too many, just enough to suggest she was in her early fifties. She always wore clothes that were appropriate for her age too. She had pillowy boobs and a feminine figure, but Tracy never flaunted it or acted inappropriately in front of Julia. Tracy smiled a lot too. She was tender and caring, always asking Julia how she was doing. She checked in on her all the time and not just haphazardly, when she “happened” to consider Julia’s emotional well-being. Not like Vickie. With Tracy, their relationship was all about Julia, whereas with her biological mother, the relationship centered on Vickie.

  Vickie was in her late forties, but absolutely no one except for a few members of her family knew that. She purposely appeared and acted a decade younger. Having undergone lots of plastic surgery, Vickie got in line for every lift, nip, and tuck she could stand, including a boob job. Her insistence on wearing the ribbed tank tops she preferred had grown into a monstrous source of embarrassment for Julia. Vickie also kept her hair the same exact shade and length as Julia’s. Their blonde locks always drew the attention of onlookers. Julia hated hearing people comment upon seeing them together that they looked like identical twin sisters.

  They so did not! Hell no! Julia was thirty years younger than Vickie and every single wrinkle proved that. And Julia was nothing like Vickie. Not one part of her. Well, maybe half of her DNA. But not anything she could help. Julia wore minimal makeup and conservative, classy clothing, unlike her tawdry mother, who refused to read the damn memo that she was pushing fifty and should not have been dressing like she was twenty.

  Tracy, ever the perceptive and intelligent mother, smiled and remained quiet for a while as she drove home. She was giving Julia a few moments to decompress. Tracy knew Julia liked to be quiet after she left her psychiatrist in order to recompose herself. Vickie, however, never got that and always started in with her inane prattle.

  “How did he do it? How could he have stood to marry her?” Julia blurted out from nowhere.

  Tracy calmly put her turn signal on and glanced over her shoulder before replying, “Who, honey? Who are we talking about?”

  “Dad! How could he have married her?”

  “Do you mean your mother?” Her mouth twitched slightly.

  “No, I mean Vickie. She is not my mother.” Julia crossed her arms over her stomach with a stubborn huff.

  “Because he liked her. She’s quite likeable. They just weren’t compatible.”

  “Bullshit. She’s hopelessly insane and he couldn’t stand her. You’re always too diplomatic when we talk about her.”

  “She’s also my sister, honey. I married her ex and raised her daughter, so it gets a little touchy at times. I’ve tried my best to handle it with some sensitivity.”

  “Grace. Dignity. Compassion. Putting everyone else’s needs before your own, right? Is that what you mean?”

  Tracy sighed gently and smiled with unmasked love towards Julia. Julia bit her lip. That woman right there was the one who gave Julia all her love and unconditional mothering. Not Vickie. “Thank you for the compliment. But what’s really going on? Vickie forgot to pick you up, I get that it’s upsetting, but honey, it’s not the first time, is it? You don’t usually get so worked up.”

  Julia sucked in a deep breath. See? Tracy could even tell when Julia was transferring her feelings and misdirecting her anger. Why? Because Tracy knew Julia better than anyone else. She also loved her and always put her first. Tears blurred Julia’s eyes. “What if… what if Dad hadn’t married you? Vickie would have fucked me all up.”

  Tracy scoffed. “Well, he did marry me and I am your mother and you are not all fucked up, as you put it. But you are angrier than normal at Vickie. Why?”

  “She forgot to pick me up. Who forgets to pick up their own daughter? And it’s not like she’s too busy at work or trying to save the world or doing anyone else any good. So there is no decent or valid excuse. So don’t even try to say she just forgot. Sure, we all forget sometimes. But dozens of times? This happens regularly every few months and has for over eighteen years.”

  “I know her carelessness is hurtful—”

  “Don’t you ever get tired of beating that same drum? For twenty years, you’ve been doing it. All for her.”

  Tracy glanced at her and then away, shaking her head. “No, you’re wrong.”

  “No, I’m right. You’ve made nice to her for decades despite all the glaring evidence to the contrary.”

  “I mean, you’re wrong that I did it for her. It was never for her. No, I did it for Donny because I love him and we had to make it work despite my sister. It was from guilt mostly at first, and then, it was all about you. I fell head over heels in love with you, Julia, and not just as my niece, or the baby I helped Donny care for, but as my daughter. And I suddenly found myself wanting to be the mother of my sister’s daughter. My sister. Who was still in the picture. Yeah. It’s been tough. Like walking a damn tightrope. I get tired of it, sure, not only because of Vickie and her endless list of excuses but also for picking up the slack. But doing that if it helps you? In a heartbeat, darling, I’d do it for another twenty years in a heartbeat.”

  Julia sniffled, swallowing the tears Tracy’s kind words created. “You’re what a mother is supposed to act like and look like and be.”

  “I am your mother. You and I both know that. I don’t know what that makes Vickie exactly. Donny always figured it was better for you to know her than to think she abandoned you. By offering you limited contact with Vickie, which we controlled, and letting us pick up her slack, your dad hoped you would be better for it in the long term. You know, to prevent any feelings of desertion or neglect. Maybe we were wrong, but we did the best we believed at the time.”

  “You weren’t wrong and I’m sorry. I just didn’t need any more Vicki drama today. We only asked her to help me out one day a week and she even messes that up. On the one day that your meetings always run late. And here I am again, pulling you away from them. Stupid, messed up, neurotic me who can’t handle anything.”

  She leaned over and squeezed Julia’s hand. “You can too. You just have some reasons right now not to. Again, what happened?”

  “Apparently, I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. It’s not a full diagnosis yet. But I think we both know it’s the best explanation for all my… quirks.”

  “Is that what Dr. Grad said?”

  “Well… not exactly.”

  “Well, then what exactly did he say?”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “That my anxiety over Vickie makes me crazy.” Shoving her hands through her hair, Julia became more annoyed as she huffed.

  “So he didn’t exactly diagnose you with something.”

  “There is no proof that parenting styles or their mistakes lead to OCD. I just think if anyone should have it, it would be me.”

  Tracy sighed. “Julia? Could you tell me what’s going on?”

  “Anxiety. Makes me have problems dealing with everyday stress and the outside world. Which you already knew before you sent me there.”

  “Yes. Look, I missed an eating disorder in Ally, so I couldn’t make the same mistake again. Gretchen and I noticed some things…”

  Tracy reached over and took Julia’s hand. “This is just to give you an outlet to discuss some things.”

  “Because you think I’m crazy and neurotic.”

  “You’re not crazy or neurotic. You just need a little help. Ally got some and look at where she is now.”

  Ju
lia yanked her hand back. “You know, I’m not planning to become some kind of international, environmental lawyer, right? Or following Kylie’s capable, wonderful motherhood abilities and oh yeah, while still helping abused and neglected kids too. I’m not that girl, Mom. You know that. I won’t be successful doing anything like that. I won’t be, so let’s quit pretending.”

  Tracy sighed. “I never suggested they were successful simply because they went to college or chose to do what they did, but because of who they are. And you are just as wonderful as they are, Julia.”

  “I’m too weird.” Julia sighed, biting her lip.

  Tracy’s face fell as she pulled into their driveway. Leaning over, she took Julia into her arms. “We are all weird, sweetheart. I swear, you’ll realize that the older you get.”

  Julia released a harsh scoff. “But I really am, Mom. It’s kept me from being what I should be by now. Grown up, and getting a job… you know, all of that. It’s been—”

  “Almost debilitating. I know, Ju-Ju Bee. That’s why we suggested you consult Dr. Grad. We’ll be here to help. We’ll figure this out together, okay? You, me, and your dad.”

  “Not Vickie. Will you promise me that?”

  Tracy hesitated.

  Julia shook her head. “She’s leaving Dane.”

  Tracy sighed. “Ah, shit.”

  “You didn’t know?”

  “No. We didn’t know.”

  “Why does she always do that? Ruin everything? Leave everyone she claims to love? Why? What is wrong with her?”

  Tracy leaned across the seat and took Julia’s chin in her hand. “Lots of stuff, to be honest. Alcoholism, commitment issues. She loves all men and insists on monopolizing their attention. She’s spoiled, shallow and she screws up more often than she succeeds. I hoped—”

  “That’s a total of five marriages, Mom. And five divorces.”

  “I realize that.”

  Julia stared right at Tracy. “What if I turn out to be just like her? What if all my problems are because I am just like her?”

  Tracy suddenly pulled Julia’s shoulders into her embrace. “Oh, honey. You are not like her at all. You will not get married and divorced five times or become an alcoholic or hurt everyone around you without ever realizing how deeply—”

 

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