Lesbian Stepmother

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Lesbian Stepmother Page 17

by Amy Polino


  July arrived, and with it, my eighteenth birthday. Since I didn’t have any actual friends besides Susan, my birthday was relatively simply. After I got home from work we sat down to a nice dinner, which Susan had prepared just for me. We had blackened salmon, Spanish rice and asparagus. These were some of my ultimate favorites, and she managed to cook them better than any restaurant I’d ever been to. Everything was perfect, and she made so much that despite me eating my fill, there were still leftovers for the next day.

  When we were done with dinner, and my father had cleared the table, Susan brought out a lovely birthday cake. She’d had it hidden in the cabinet since she’d made it, earlier in the day. It was a vanilla cake with lemon frosting, and there were eighteen candles on it, in addition to “Happy Birthday Amy.” She lit the candles and brought the cake over to the table, setting it down right in front of me.

  “Oh, Susan. It’s beautiful.” I was very moved by the cake. I’d never had one personalized like that, or made especially for me, except for when I was a very little girl and still had a mom. I almost wanted to cry at her hard work and thoughtfulness.

  She smiled at me and stepped aside. “Make a wish, sweetheart.”

  I nodded. It didn’t take me very long to think of what I wanted. I’m not even going to tell you what I wished for, because I think you already know. Then I blew out the candles, making sure to get them all with one breath. Susan applauded when I did, and my father joined in, probably feeling obligated. I could tell he wanted to get back to his chair and his enticing papers, but he was stuck having to celebrate my birthday, at least for a few more minutes.

  Susan offered to let me cut the cake, but I allowed her the honors. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she plucked the little candles out one by one with a happy grin on her face. It was very warm in the house, almost hot, and she was wearing a very simple low-cut black dress. I wanted to lean over and kiss her beautiful arm, which was only inches from my face. She pulled out another candle, and with it came a small bit of cake and a little glob of frosting. As I watched, she lifted the candle to her mouth and inserted it between her lips, cleaning it off and giving herself a little taste at the same time.

  “How is it?” I asked.

  She looked at me. “Very good. I think you’re really going to like it.”

  “I know I am.”

  She pulled out another candle, intentionally scooping some frosting out with it, and held it up to my mouth. I eagerly leaned my head forward and sucked the sweet lemony frosting from the candle, being sure to allow my lips to brush her fingers. I’m sure she noticed, but she didn’t pull her hand away.

  “You like?” she asked.

  I nodded. “I love.”

  She giggled and finished pulling the candles from the cake, tossing them into a little pile. As she was cutting the cake, I picked up another candle and sucked the frosting and bits of cake from it. I then returned it to the pile as Susan transferred a big piece of cake to a plate and slid it over to my father. While he dug in, she dished out two more pieces and then set the knife down on the table. Before taking her seat she picked up one of the candles, the same one which I’d just had in my mouth, and slid it into hers. She smiled at me as she did it, and it caused my pulse to quicken. Was it an accident? A coincidence? I couldn’t tell. She sucked on the candle for a moment and then returned it to the pile.

  “Happy Birthday, Amy,” she said.

  “Thank you.”

  She rubbed my head gently with one hand and took her plate over to her chair.

  * * *

  When we were done with our cake, it was time for my gifts. I didn’t really want anything, and hadn’t asked for anything, but of course they each got me something. In fact, they each got me several things. The table was suddenly covered in wrapped presents, and I felt almost guilty knowing they were all for me.

  “I don’t know which one to open first,” I complained.

  My father slid one in front of me. “Open this one. I might have to return it.” He took a drink and then pushed up his glasses. He was drinking his scotch again, and Susan was having a glass of white wine. I wanted a glass of wine, too, and was thinking about asking for one. After all, it was my birthday.

  “Okay,” I said. I pulled the present closer and tried to gauge what it was. If it was from my father, which it was, it had to be either pants, a shirt or shoes, and the box was too flat and long to be shoes. I slipped my fingers under the wrapping paper and tore it open, revealing a clean white cardboard box. Setting the paper aside, I lifted the cover off the box and saw that it was a shirt.

  “I’m not sure about the color,” he admitted. “I know the size is right, unless you changed since Christmas.”

  “I didn’t.” I lifted the shirt out and held it up. It was a reddish-brown button-down monstrosity. The buttons looked like they were made from fake pearls. It was truly awful. I don’t think I’d ever seen such an ugly shirt; it was even worse than his usual fare. “Thanks, dad.”

  Susan made a sour face. I thought she might say something, but she held it in.

  “Like I said, if you don’t like it, I can return it. I still have the receipt.”

  I knew he would. He had returned two of my Christmas gifts and then seemingly forgot to replace them, keeping the money for something else. “Maybe. Give me a day to decide.”

  He nodded and took another drink. Then he slid another gift in front of me. “You might as well get mine out of the way. There’s nothing really spectacular.”

  It was a good idea, and he was absolutely right. There was a pair of jeans, which were the same kind he got me every year; those were fine, and I’d definitely keep them. Then there was another shirt, a silky pink thing with a lot of glitter that caused Susan to giggle. It was the kind of thing a twelve year-old Hollywood starlet might wear during a photo-shoot, but otherwise I couldn’t think of a practical use for it. I set it back in the box.

  My father frowned. “Maybe next year you could help me shop,” he told Susan.

  “I will. I promise.”

  He also got me a pair of shoes. They were tennis shoes, New Balance, and the size was correct. I’d keep them, even though I already had several pairs just like them. I leaned over in my chair and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, dad.”

  “You’re welcome.” He took another drink and glanced at the clock.

  I glanced across the table at Susan, who was smiling at me. She had two gifts in front of her, both relatively small and similar in shape. I moved the shoe box out of the way and she slid one of her presents forward.

  “This one first. It’s just a little something extra.”

  “Thank you so much.” It meant a lot to me that she’d gotten me anything at all. I didn’t even care what it was, although I was quite certain it was a fat paperback book, or perhaps a stack of thin ones. I smiled back at her, reaching out to pull the package closer. She looked so lovely with her black dress on and her hair flowing down over her bare shoulders that I had to be careful not to stare at her. It was very difficult.

  I peeled the paper off carefully, not wanting to tear it for some reason. Maybe I thought it would be an affront to her gift, despite having done it with my father’s. Anyway, I removed the wrapping paper and saw that it was indeed a small stack of paperback books. “Thank you!” I said. “This will last me all summer!”

  She nodded happily. “I hope so.”

  I looked quickly at the books and saw they were all by the same author. John Fante. I’d never heard of him.

  “It’s the entire Bandini saga,” Susan explained. “All four books feature the same character, at different parts of his life.”

  It sounded wonderful. I honestly couldn’t wait to start reading them. “God, how do you find such interesting books?” I began to page through the first one, sneaking little peeks at the dialogue.

  “I read these in college. I always wanted to read them again, but never got the chance.”
<
br />   “Maybe you can read these ones.” I looked up at her, feeling an almost overwhelming surge of love for her. “We can both read them.”

  She smiled, her blue eyes glimmering in the light. “That would be nice.”

  We stared at each other for a moment and then my father cleared his throat. “I believe there’s one more present. Sorry, but I still have a lot to do tonight.”

  Susan gave him an annoyed look and then slid the final box across the table. “This is my real present. I really hope you like it.”

  “I do.”

  She giggled, causing my insides to stir. “You didn’t open it yet.”

  “I still like it. If it’s from you, I know I do.”

  She smiled at that and glanced nervously at my father. I think she still gave him more credit than he deserved. He was a smart man, overall, but he lacked a certain degree of common sense as well as an imagination. He just sat there waiting impatiently for us to finish up.

  I opened the package. I had no idea of what it might be, and even after I got the paper off and saw the box I was a little confused. I turned it around, looking at it, and then it hit me. “You didn’t!”

  “It’s the new iPhone,” Susan said cheerfully. Suddenly she pulled her own phone out from under the table and held it up. “I got one, too!”

  My mouth was hanging open. I was stunned. “Susan, this is too much.”

  “No! It’s not. My plan lets me get a new phone every two years, and this just happens to be the time.” She looked so happy as she explained it to me. “And it’s really not all that much more for a second phone.” She leaned forward, placing her hand over mine. “I put you on my plan, too. You even got to keep your old phone number. But unlike your old phone, this one connects to the internet. You can get all kinds of apps for it... you can do almost anything!”

  It was an absolutely incredible gift. By far the best I’d ever received. My old phone was a four year old flip-phone which did nothing but make calls. And considering I never called anyone, it wasn’t of much use to me except in emergencies. But this new one was an actual little computer. “Susan...”

  “It’s even got Netflix,” she continued. “You can watch movies in bed while your father thinks you’re asleep.”

  My father grunted at this, and took another drink.

  “And it’s got a Kindle app, so you can read books on it. It’s got so much stuff...” She was genuinely excited, and so was I. “There’s all kinds of stuff I don’t even know about yet. We can figure it out together.”

  I nodded, wanting to cry. I loved her so much.

  “Thank you, Susan. It’s the best gift I ever got.”

  That caused my father to stand up. “Well. You can toss my gifts in the trash if you’d like.”

  I looked up at him. “Dad...”

  “It’s okay.” He leaned over and kissed the top of my head. “You two play with your new phones. I really need to get some work done.”

  “Thanks for the stuff, dad.”

  “You’re welcome. Happy birthday.” He disappeared into the living room with his glass.

  Susan and I sat looking at each other for a moment. I felt so grateful and affectionate toward her I could hardly stand it. I wanted to hug her, and promised myself that I would, later on. “Just wait until your birthday, Susan. Two can play at this game.”

  She giggled and took a sip of wine. “I’m just glad you like it.”

  “I do. I love it.” And I love you. I looked at her glass of wine. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Since it’s my birthday... do you think I could have a little glass of wine with you?”

  She smiled warmly at the question. “I don’t see why not.”

  “I promise not to make a habit of asking. Just this once.”

  “It’s fine, sweetheart.” She got up out of her chair, smoothing her dress down with one hand. “You’re eighteen now. I don’t see why it should be a problem every so often.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re more than welcome.”

  She got another glass from the cabinet, and retrieved an open bottle of wine from the refrigerator. She brought them both to the table and poured me an almost full glass before refreshing her own drink. Then she set the bottle down and lifted her glass.

  “A birthday toast,” she offered.

  I lifted my glass with a smile and clinked it against hers. “Happy birthday to me,” I said.

  She laughed and we each took a sip. It was cold and fruity and delicious. I loved it. She’d really made my birthday special, and I was feeling very happy.

  “Would you like to stay in here?” she asked. “Or sit with me on the couch and play with our new phones?”

  “Do you think I should drink this in front of you-know-who?”

  She smiled. “He probably won’t even notice. He doesn’t notice much of anything unless it’s a boring stack of papers.”

  That surprised me. Not that she’d noticed it, but that she’d said it. It was the first time I’d ever heard her talk negatively of my father except maybe when we were joking about Niagara Falls. “Well, then, I guess the couch would be more comfortable.”

  “Grab your phone, sweetie. I’ll help you set it up.”

  Chapter 9

  We took our phones and our glasses of wine into the other room, where my father was already hunched over his open briefcase, studying a sheaf of documents. We set our glasses on the coffee table and took a seat on the couch, the two of us sitting very close together. In fact, our legs were actually touching, and when I began to open the box my phone came in, Susan leaned into me and watched excitedly. It made me feel extremely amorous and I had trouble concentrating on what I was doing. We’d never sat pressed together before, and I began to wonder what had changed.

  When I had the phone out, she showed me how to install the battery and the chip, and then we powered it up. There were so many screens to choose from, and so many features, I was unsure of where to begin. She gave me a few pointers, and we started by setting up my email so I’d be able to check it on my phone now and not just on my computer.

  We paused every so often to take sips of wine. It actually felt more like Christmas, despite the heat. I’d never had such a fun birthday, and I was literally high with happiness. Sitting there beside Susan, with our bodies touching, and her teaching me all kinds of neat little tricks with my new high-tech toy was the best thing that had happened to me in a long time.

  At one point my father looked up and noticed that I was drinking. “What’s that?” he asked.

  “I told her she could have a little wine,” Susan explained. “For her birthday.”

  He looked at her with a hint of annoyance. “Oh?”

  “Is that a problem? She’s eighteen and it’s her birthday.”

  “The drinking age is twenty one. At least it was the last time I checked.”

  “That’s in public. She’s allowed to have a drink in the privacy of her own home if a parent or guardian approves of it.”

  He nodded. “And you approve.”

  “It’s her birthday. It’s just a glass of wine. Is it really a problem?”

  “I didn’t say it was a problem. I just --”

  I’d never heard them argue before, and it took me by surprise. Of course, it wasn’t really an argument so much as a terse discussion, but it was the closest I’d ever heard them come. I was uncomfortable being in the middle of it. “I won’t finish it, dad,” I interrupted. “It’s my fault. I asked her if I could have some.”

  He stared at me for a moment. “It’s okay. I’m just surprised to see you sitting there drinking.”

  “It’s just for today.”

  He nodded. “You’re growing up fast. Sometimes I forget.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I wished he’d go back to his papers so we could have fun again. We all sat quietly for a few moments and then that’s just what
he did. After another minute Susan started showing me some more things on the phone, and we forgot about him.

  Before I knew it, my glass was empty and I was feeling very good. Susan had brought the open bottle of wine in with her and she reached over and poured us each another glass, finishing off the bottle. Then she sat back and put her feet up on the coffee table, leaning into me again. I noticed for the first time that her toenails were painted a light blue. They almost matched her eyes, and it made me feel so aroused that I couldn’t stop staring at her feet.

  She noticed me looking and wiggled her toes. “Like my new polish?”

  I nodded. “I sure do. It’s beautiful.”

  She giggled. “Thank you. You can borrow it sometime.”

  The thought thrilled me. “I’d love to.”

  For the next several minutes she showed me how to connect to the internet and do searches on her phone. I noticed as she was scrolling through various screens that her background was a picture of a sunset over an ocean, whereas mine was just a blank screen. I asked her how to go about changing mine, and she told me.

  “Of course, you can also use your own pictures.”

  “My own?”

  “You know, ones you take yourself. The phone has a really nice camera built into it, too.”

  I had no idea. “It does?”

  “Sure. You can even take movies.”

  She showed me how to find the camera application and then I found it on mine. It was amazing. I held up the phone and saw my father appear on the screen. It was like watching him on TV. I giggled. “How do I take the picture?”

  “Just press here.”

  I pressed it and there was the shot, a still of my dad scribbling on his papers. It was fun, but it wasn’t the picture I wanted. I turned my camera and aimed it at Susan, her beautiful face filling the screen. “Smile,” I said. She was already smiling. I took the photo and knew instantly that it was perfect.

  “Let me see,” she said, leaning over. She put her arm around me, heightening my arousal. “Oh, my hair’s a mess.”

 

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