Stepbrother At Last

by Stephanie Brother

  I took the silver pie server out of its place in the mahogany case. This silver was my mom’s pride, inherited from her grandmother. I polished the shiny surface until I could see my face in it. Maybe Mom was right. Maybe if I just forgave him I could forget about everything and go forward in my life. Sounds easy, doesn’t it? My face looked distorted, ugly, in the smooth silver utensil. I didn’t want to forgive him. I just wanted the benefits, the clear light feeling of letting it all go and walking into my future. Happy. Not bitter. Not alone.

  Something occurred to me. “Hey. This silver. We’re polishing this silver for him? For Nick? For him to come to dinner?”

  “Yes.” My mom wouldn’t meet my eye. “I thought it would be nice.”

  “I thought you only used it for Christmas.”

  “And special occasions.”

  “What special occasions? You never used it for birthdays, or your anniversary, or my graduation. What’s so special about this?

  “It just…seemed right.” Mom might have been blushing a little, but I couldn’t tell.

  “Because he’s so rich now? Is that it?” I sounded like a teenager, but I didn’t care.

  “Not that he’s rich, but he’s used to having things nice….” She was blushing.

  “I can’t believe this! He used to eat cold pizza for breakfast right out of the box! And after what he did, now he rates Grandma Tremaine’s silver?”

  “Julia—”

  “This is bullshit, Mom!”

  “It’s not just that he’s rich. I want…. I want our family back. I want things to be okay again, like they were. That’s what’s so special, that’s—”

  “Things will never be okay again! They’re broken! They will always be broken, and Grandma Tremaine’s silver, or having Nick over for dinner, or not saying ‘step’—none of that will fix it. The hell with this! I’m going to the library.”

  Mom jumped up, and before I could take two steps she had wrapped me in a big hug. “Sweetie. Don’t go. Nothing’s ever so broken it can’t be fixed.”

  “Oh, Mom, that’s just a dream, it’s—” Somehow I was crying.

  “Then let’s have a dream,” she whispered. “Let’s have a good dream, sweetie. Stay.” She kissed my hair. And all those times she’d lifted me out of bed and put me in the wheelchair, pretending not to cry so I wouldn’t see, all those times she’d driven me to physical therapy after the operation, watching as I fought to walk again, all those times came back to me, and I thought, no wonder she thinks everything can be fixed. I hugged her back, hard. How could I say no to her? And maybe she was right, although she didn’t know half of what had happened between Nick and me.

  “Okay,” I said, wiping the tears away. “I’ll stay here for dinner.” I found a smile and pinned it on. “But I don’t promise to behave.”

  After Mom and I set the table with the linen tablecloth and gleaming silver, I went up to my room to get ready.

  What to wear to see Nick? At the hospital I had worn my scrubs, deliberately not dressing to impress. Now I wanted…I could barely admit it to myself, but I wanted him to want me. Yeah, my stepbrother. Long story. I wanted his tongue to be hanging out of his mouth when he saw me, but it had to look effortless. Like I hadn’t tried to look hot, it was just what happened every morning when I got out of bed.

  Of course that wasn’t true. After the surgery that let me finally walk again, I had months of physical therapy, and then I turned into kind of an exercise addict. You try not being able to walk for two years, and see how much you crave being able to use your body after a near-miracle gives you that body back. So with all that gym time, I knew that I had a decent foundation to work with, but I wanted to showcase the goods without looking like I bothered. Plus Mom told me to “wear something nice.” So I put on a really simple, short white dress that showed some cleavage and leg but wasn’t too tight, with a denim jacket on top. I had scars from the surgery on my back and hips, but they didn’t show when I was dressed, thank god. Mom told me that they’re not that bad, just thin white lines. Still, it was hard to imagine ever being able to let anyone see them. Being a virgin at 21 is bad enough without having Franken-scars.

  I still was so grateful to be able to dress myself. To be able to just walk to my closet and pick something out. On my closet door was a chart that Joe, my stepdad, had made for me when I was still in the wheelchair. Back then, any time I would go out in public, strangers would actually stop me and say shit like, “You’re so inspirational,” or “You’re really brave.” Didn’t matter where I was, on campus, at the mall, in the freaking ladies’ room. It was ridiculous. What did I inspire them to do, exactly? How the hell did they know I was brave? I was always (okay, usually) polite to them, because they were just trying to be nice to the poor crippled girl, but it made me so mad. Joe made the chart so I could check off “Inspirational” or “Brave” when I got home. It turned the whole thing into a joke. He’d say, “Nine ‘Inspirational’ but only two ‘Brave’ this week. You’re slipping, Julia.” I love him for that.

  My room is at the front of the house, so I was able to see Nick pull up as I finished brushing my hair. He was driving a little Mercedes, like a Mercedes sportscar thing. At least he wasn’t driven here in a limousine. He’s filthy rich now. He invented an app or something like that. It was all over the news—Youngest Billionaire, blah blah blah. I didn’t read the coverage. Or, not much of it. Not all of it.

  I watched him get out of the car. Mom was going to like how he was dressed. Pressed khakis, button down, no tie, brown leather jacket. It looked casual but probably cost a mint.

  So, what to do? Was it better to wait up in my room for a while, make Nick wonder where I was? If I did that, would he be able to tell it was on purpose? I seriously wanted to slap my own face for being so keyed up about seeing him. Why did I care? After what he did to me, I should have found somebody to choke him, Darth Vader style, but here I was acting like a girl on her first date. So I just went downstairs when I heard Mom open the door.

  Nick is rich, but my house is just normal. A few weeks after the accident, I asked Mom and Joe to stop talking about Nick in front of me, and they mostly did, but right before news of his sudden wealth hit the media, I overheard them talking about investments and how they didn’t have to worry about retirement any more. So I guess Nick gave them some cash. But we just live like regular people. So when I came out of my room, I could look down the stairs and see the front door.

  And there was Nick. God, he’s perfect. He has dark, dark brown hair, and I suddenly had a memory of plunging my hands into that hair and how it felt, thick and springy under my fingers. That memory, and the loss of what we had together, made my eyes sting with tears I didn’t need right then. I forced myself to remember the other stuff about him. The bad stuff. And then I could go downstairs dry-eyed and clear headed. Mostly.

  I could just appreciate the way he looked, I told myself, like I would appreciate a Greek statue in a museum. And he did have the body for one of those sculptures of athletes that I’d studied in my Art History class. Broad shoulders, small hips, lean abs. It was impossible to see him without admiring him. At least it was for me.

  He kissed my mom on the cheek, and she grabbed him and gave him a big hug. That’s Mom. She hugs everybody. Nick turned to Joe, his father, and Joe held out his hand to shake, but Nick ignored it and wrapped his arms around his dad. They held on a long time.

  When I was at the bottom of the stairs, Nick noticed me over his dad’s shoulder and ended the hug. I didn’t see his tongue actually hanging out of his mouth, but he gave me a long, slow look up and down that made my heart speed up.

  “Julia?” he said, and then before I could do anything, he took three fast strides and put his arms around me and embraced me too. I know I was as stiff as a board in his arms, but I absolutely could not think. The feel of his arms, of his chest against me, the smell of him—his cologne, yes, but also that warm sunshine smell that was just him—all that knocked rat
ional thought right out of my head. I think I put my arms around him too, but I’m not sure. I don’t know what it looked like to Mom and Joe, but it sure didn’t feel like a normal hug between a brother and sister. Or a normal hug of any kind.

  “Well!” my mom said, all chipper, “Kiss and make up, children!”

  I’m ashamed to admit it but I gave her such a dirty look then. I stepped back, away from Nick, and I could feel my face heating up.

  Joe said in an undertone, “Not cool, Lucy.”

  “I was just—” Mom said.

  “I know what you were doing. Leave the kids alone.”

  “Okay then, how about a drink, everybody?” she said, too brightly, trying too hard.

  “Sure Mom,” I said. “Can I help you get anything?”

  “No, it’s okay, I have the bar set up.”

  This was new. We never had a bar set up, unless they were having a party. We all crowded around the little side table. Joe handed me a glass, and I sipped it without really noticing what it was. I was just focused on calming down, handling myself like an adult, not freaking out every time Nick touched me or looked at me.

  Pretty soon, Mom called us to the table. She’d gone all out, making Chicken Cordon Bleu and asparagus with Hollandaise sauce. Aside from the nice table linen and fancy food, it was a lot like the dinners the four of us used to share before the accident. We only had about a year of all living together before Nick went to college, but still, it was strange. All four of us were in our usual seats, with Nick directly across from me.

  It was hard not to just stare at him the whole time. I kept sneaking looks at him. His eyes were a warm brown, like milk chocolate. They almost disappeared when he would laugh at something, which was often. He had a top lip that was chiseled and firm, and a bottom lip like a fat cushion. His nose still had the bump from when he broke it as a kid. The slightly crooked nose made him look a little tough, and saved his face from being too pretty. My eyes kept going back and forth from those lips to that little bump in his nose, so I could hardly follow the conversation.

  Joe was trying to talk business with him. Joe was a high school science teacher, and he knew squat about business, so it was a little entertaining.

  “So now, do you still have the company? I don’t understand that part,” Joe was saying.

  “I still have the company, I just sold the license to the application to the manufacturer. The company holds all the patents.”

  My mom chimed in, “How did you think up the app in the first place, Nick?”

  “I just made the fitness app I wanted to use myself. I kept going back and forth between all these gadgets and online fitness programs, but I wanted everything integrated together.”

  “That’s so amazing. I always knew you would do something amazing, didn’t you, Julia?” My mom really won’t let stuff go, can you tell?

  “So Nick,” I said, “You’re a billionaire now, huh?”

  “Ugh. People keep using that word. There’s a difference between my company’s net worth and my own liquid assets. I don’t have a billion-dollar bill in my wallet, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Damn it. Because I was hoping you’d get me a small impoverished nation for Christmas. Preferably something tropical, where they grow coffee or chocolate. Any chance I’ll find that under the tree?”

  He just grinned at me. “I’ll see what I can do.” He relaxed then. I guess he thought that since I was joking around with him, all was forgiven and forgotten. He was wrong.

  ~ <> ~

  The day that split my life in two started out as the happiest one I’d ever known. It was almost three years ago. I’d had a crush on Nick practically from the day my mom and his dad took us out to dinner to tell us they were getting married. It seemed like the biggest cheat on earth that the one guy who had ever captured my full attention was about to be off limits. I might as well have fallen in love with a movie star—it had the same chance of ever working out. I could tell that Nick thought of me as his kid sister, nothing more. Just someone to tease. Obviously he wasn’t interested in me, because he always paraded his many, many girls in front of me. He would flirt and touch them in a way that made me feel an almost sickening mixture of desire and rage.

  We were out at the lake with our friends, and I was pissed at him, so when he challenged me to race with him, I stupidly did it. I could barely swim then, but I kept that information to myself.

  I started off okay, but pretty soon I was exhausted. I knew I was in trouble, but there was nobody to call for help. Nick had pulled far ahead. With the little air I could get between gulps of lake water, I called his name, but he didn’t hear me. I had somehow blundered out into deep water, and I just couldn’t stay up on the surface. I remember looking up at the sky, trying to keep my head above water, but failing. Water kept coming into my mouth and nose, and I started to panic. I thrashed with my arms and legs, but it didn’t help, and then the air was way up above and I was down in the cold dark water. I looked up through the water, and I could still see the light in the sky, slowly getting smaller as I sank down.

  The next thing I knew, someone grabbed me from behind and yanked my head above the surface, which I seemed to break with a big crash. I gasped for a huge breath of air, but it made me cough, and that made me panic again and flail around.

  Nick spoke in my ear. “I have you Julia. You’re okay.” He held onto me from behind, and his firm warm arms around me and the rumbling sound of his voice gave me the strength to calm down.

  “Just breathe slowly and relax,” he said, and he started to swim on his back for shore, with me above him, my back pressed to his front.

  When we got to shallow water, he asked if I could walk, and I nodded. He kept his arm around me, supporting me, but my knees were wobbly, and I sank down on them when we were in about a foot of water.

  He knelt right in front of me and peered into my face. His hands moved my hair back, and then his thumb traced my cheek, caressed my face. The other hand strayed to my shoulder as he kept looking into my eyes.

  “My god, Julia, I thought I’d lost you. I’d want to die without you. Tell me you’re okay.”

  “Oh, Nick,” I said. My feelings were too big for words, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his.

  In the next moment he roughly pulled me to his chest, and brought his lips to mine. His mouth was an unstoppable force of nature. His lips pulled at mine, hungrily taking them. He took my bottom lip between both of his. His lips opened, and his questing tongue traced the line between my closed lips, and I yielded my mouth to him. Our tongues met, and for the first time I knew what it was like to swirl deliriously into a kiss. My whole body, which had been so cold when trapped by the lake, felt like it was about to ignite. My hands went to Nick’s hair, buried themselves in it, in an attempt to bring him closer still. All the feelings for Nick that I’d hidden and tried to deny, burst forth, and I poured all of them into that kiss.

  CHAPTER TWO

  2

  Nick

  I kept thinking that the dinner with Julia and the folks was going fine. Except for those few minutes with Julia at the hospital a few days before, I hadn’t seen any of my family for going on three years. It was so great to see my dad, to just hang out with him and laugh and talk. He looked older though, which is kind of scary. I could tell that Lucy, my stepmom, was a little nervous. Maybe she thought Julia and I would fight or something.

  Julia looked smoking hot. When I saw her, I swear I lost the power of speech. That girl has a body that just…. She could be one of those Sports Illustrated swimsuit models. I sat across the table from her, and with that dress she had on, every time she leaned forward a little, the view was amazing. I mean, she looked like a lady, of course, nothing slutty about what she had on, but damn.

  She didn’t talk much, though. Dad and Lucy kept asking me questions and making a big deal out of the Fitband app and my company, so I felt like a total braggart the whole time. I mean, yeah, it’s not every day that a gu
y my age has an idea that takes off and makes a bunch of money, and yeah, I worked my ass off for it, but I gotta say, more than a little bit was just dumb luck. Not that I say that too often.

  I really wanted to get Julia talking. I wanted to hear the story of how she got out of that wheelchair. I mean, that’s some kind of miracle, right? I remember the day the doctor came into Julia’s hospital room with the bad news. Dad and Lucy had gone home for a while, so I was the only one with her. I never left her room after the accident. Julia was all doped up on painkillers, and I didn’t even know if she could understand when he explained that she’d never walk again. But she understood, all right. After the doctor left, she cried and cried until she was almost howling, squeezing my hand the whole time. I left town the next day. Go ahead, call me an asshole. I’ve called myself the same thing a million times. But, much as I wanted to hear from Julia about how she got better, she resisted all my attempts to ask questions.

  In fact she would barely look at me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. A few times I caught her looking my way before quickly cutting her eyes away from me with this Fuck You look on her face. Later, she started to joke around, but she was still super pissed at me. She had a right to be, of course, but I guess I was hoping she’d gotten over it. Nope.

  When Lucy served the dessert and coffee, Julia started checking her phone every few minutes. I thought she might be expecting texts from a guy, and my gut twisted up at the thought. I had to get her alone for a little while, just to talk to her. It was like this fever inside of me. I didn’t want to let on, though, make her realize how obsessed with her I was. Though really, how could she not know? But still, I wanted to play it cool. Dumb, right?

  “Lucy, this dinner was so delicious, I’m afraid to enter the calories into my fitness app! I need to walk off some of them. Julia, do you want to go for a walk with me?” Smooth, huh? Being around my stepsister turned me into a fourteen-year-old boy.