Lesbian Stepmother (24 page)

“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.”

“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.”