The Mother Tracie Deserves

A DIRTY TRICK

I cried in my bed until I ran out of tears. I laid in my twisted sheets, feeling bereft and scared.

A soft knocking came from my bedroom door.

I covered my face with my hands and didn't reply.

"Mom?" said Tracie, from the hallway.

"Honey, I can't talk to you right now."

"No, Mom. Don't block me out. Can I come in? Please?"

I let out a long exhale. Of all the mean things my mother had done to me, the scariest was when she refused to talk to me. As upset as I was, I wouldn't do that to Tracie. "Fine."

My stepdaughter entered the room gently.

One look at her, and I was ready to cry again. "Oh god, Tracie. Could you please put something else on? Something... more?"

Her mouth dropped open, then she seemed to understand. "Oh, sure. I'll be right back."

I sighed in relief. I couldn't talk to her while she wore that little nightie, her shoulders and long legs bare, the shape of her breasts too visible beneath the thin silk.

Here I am, lusting after my daughter at least as much as I ever lusted after a drink,

I thought.

How am I going to get through this?

Tracie returned in sweats, which was a great relief to me. I could almost start to think of her in regular terms again - as just my teenage stepdaughter - now that she didn't look like a supermodel in lingerie.

She said, "Is this better?"

I nodded.

She folded a leg under her as she sat on my bed. "Can we just talk?"

"Tracie, I feel like I'm going insane."

Her brows crinkled in sympathy. She reached out and put her hand on my arm, which sent a tremor through me. She said, "You're not insane. I need to apologize."

I listened.

She said, "I have to apologize for making you so mad. It was a pretty dirty trick, I guess. I wanted you to see Raymond here today. That's the only reason I invited him over, honestly. I never even let him in the house. I told him to come over when I knew you'd be on the way home. And I intentionally said mean things to you in the bathroom. I was trying to make you extra mad - for the video."

I shook my head slowly. "I can't say I understand that, Tracie. But honestly, that's not the biggest thing that's got me so upset." I pulled my bed covers up to my neck, as if for protection.

"Oh." She looked bashfully down and picked at her thumbnail, then started chewing on it. In that moment, she looked like what she was: nineteen, but still just a girl. Her beautiful body was more mature than her mind.

I said, "Yeah, 'Oh.'"

We were both quiet. What can you say when you and your daughter have just had sex?

Tracie said, "Was it that bad?"

I laughed sardonically. "Um, actually, the problem is, it was just the opposite."

I caught Tracie looking up at me with a hopeful smile. But when she saw my troubled expression, her smile faded fast.

She said, "If it was so good, why are you mad?"

"I'm not mad, Tracie. I'm scared. I'm scared to death."

"Why?"

I laid back and stared straight up, wanting the ceiling to agree with me before I lost my mind. I said, "For god's sake, Tracie, do I have to say it? Mothers and daughters don't do what we just did! What we've been doing!"

"Don't say that, Mom."

My eyes flashed to her. "How can you say anything else?"

"Because first of all," she said, "you're my stepmother."

I scoffed in disgust. "Do not give me that, Tracie. I'm your mother and I've been your mother since before you could tie your shoes."

"Of course you are, Mom. That's not what I'm saying. Give me a little credit. I've thought a lot about this. I'm nineteen. You're not even married to Dad anymore... Why are you crying?"

"Because you're starting to say I'm not your mother anymore."

"Mom, no... You're just emotional right now. You're always going to be my mother. My only mom. Forever. Nothing can possibly change that. Come on. You're just talking craziness."

"I'm talking craziness? Honey, mothers and daughters don't give each other orgasms, okay? They don't suck each other's boobs or make out in the garage. That's craziness!"

Tracie's eyes searched mine. "Did you have an orgasm?"

Her question caught me unprepared. I scoffed again loudly and turned to lay on my side, facing away from her, clutching a pillow to my chest. I tried to calm myself down with a deep breath. "Tracie, if you love me, this needs to stop. We cannot do this again."

"Mom-"

I cut her off. "You're my daughter, Tracie. You don't seem to understand. Being your mother... Nothing ever made me happier in my life."

"It's the same with me, Mom." She put her hand on my arm, sending a tingle through me.

"I'm begging you, Tracie. Please stop this. I cannot lose what we have, as mother and daughter."

"Mom, You're not going to lose me."

"I might lose myself! I already lost myself with the drinking, and ruined everything. I almost lost you then."

She said, "And how do you think I felt through all that? You at least had alcohol to soften it for you. All I could do was watch you fading away - watch you leaving me."

I turned back to her and saw my daughter wiping tears from her face. My heart ached. I touched her soft, young cheek. "I am so sorry, Tracie."

She pressed my hand to her face. "I can't lose you either, Mom."

"I'd rather die than let that happen," I said.

She turned her face into my hand and kissed my palm. Then she kissed my hand again. And again. A reaction vibrated in my belly. Sadly, I pulled my hand away from her.

I said, "I- I'm sorry, sweetheart. I just need to love you the way I always have, as your mom. I don't think I can handle loving you more than that. It's too dangerous. It's not right. We went too far."

"How can it be too far, Mom, if we love each other?"

With a serious effort, I summoned the strength to say firmly, "I'm your mother, Tracie. That's all I need to be. That's all I should be. And... that's all I want to be."

We locked eyes. I saw her disappointment. I figured I could live with that.

I turned away from her and reached for a tissue on my nightstand. I wiped my face and blew my nose. I had that calming feeling of having said what really needed to be said - even if I wasn't completely sure it was true.

We were quiet for a couple minutes, both of us wiping away a few last tears.

Finally, Tracie said, "I understand, Mom. I don't want to lose what we've always had either. Let me prove to you we can still have everything you're scared of losing. Let me sleep in here tonight."

"Tracie, I don't think-"

"Mom, listen. Nothing inappropriate. Just sharing the bed, like we've done a hundred times when Dad was out of town, or after we first moved in here. Just cuddling and sleeping. That's all, I swear. Like old times."

Like old times.

My concerns lingered, but this sounded like a way to patch things up. I looked at my stepdaughter and saw total sincerity in her eyes. I swallowed and said, "Okay."

Tracie smiled. "Yay. By the way, it's only eight thirty. Maybe we could watch a movie first?"

I heaved a sigh of relief and smiled back. "Sounds great, honey."

~ * ~

The night went as promised. Nothing sexy or weird - just a movie and sleeping in the same bed, like old times. It made me smile that, just like when she was little, Tracie still liked to sleep stretched out diagonally, limbs spread out, taking up most of the bed.

Over the next couple of weeks, Tracie went out of her way to prove to me that we could have a normal, happy mother-daughter relationship once again. Even though she was busy studying for her final exams, she was nice to me every chance she got. She helped with dinner and chores, complimented me on my work clothes, sent me friendly messages from school - little kindnesses like that. I bet most mothers could only wish their teenagers acted so sweet.

And as far as the blackmail stuff, the only thing my stepdaughter made me do was take pictures of her in the Halloween costumes she bought online. The idea was that I forced her to dress up. Apparently, this is something evil stepmothers do, at least in Tracie's imagination. She made me take pictures of her looking forlorn and sad, like she hated whatever silly getup she was in - those were for "the file." But then, she'd have me take more pictures where she didn't look sad or abused, rather she tried to look really sexy, occasionally throwing in a funny face to make me laugh.

Soon, we weren't doing any costume pictures for blackmail at all, but just enjoyed what Tracie told me was called "cosplay," short for costume play. We'd look at the shots together, talking about how this pose or that picture looked especially "hot." That's the word she used for the good pictures she liked, so I started saying it too.

There was no question that my daughter did look hot. Most of the costumes she got seemed to be made for strippers, formfitting and showing off plenty of leg and cleavage. It was impossible to deny that my once little pig-tailed girl had grown into a very attractive young woman. And, she knew how to turn on the sexiness when she wanted to!

Looking at pics of her in a short-skirted Sexy French Maid costume, I told Tracie, "You look better than the girls on the costume website. You could be a model."

"You've been telling me that since I was little."

"Well it's true! Now more than ever. That face, those legs, those boobs - you're a 'ten,' Tracie."

She laughed, "A 'ten'? No one says that anymore, Mom. What is this, the Eighties?"

Her teasing made me chuckle. I said, "Whatever, sassy thing." It was so fun to banter with my stepdaughter again. "You're just gorgeous, that's all. You're the most beautiful girl around, don't you know that?"

Acting bored by the obvious, she said, "Yeah, I know."

I laughed, "Oh you do?"

Her smile broke through and she whispered to me, "But it's still nice to hear you say it." She kissed my cheek.

I literally covered my cheek with my hand, like a twelve-year-old with her first kiss. It warmed my heart to share such simple, happy little moments. I gave Tracie a kiss on her cheek too and we both giggled.

I put my arm around her as she decided which costume photos were her favorites. She said, "I'd love to post some of these."

Alarmed, I said, "What?"

"Yeah. Some of these are awesome."

"You mean on social media?"

"That's what posting means. Lots of girls post cosplay pictures." Tracie looked and saw the fear on my face. "Oh my god, Mom, you don't think I'd post any of the 'file' stuff, do you?"

"I pray to god not."

"I was only talking about posting the hot ones. I probably won't post any anyways."

I put my hand to my chest and took a deep breath to calm down. "Okay," I said. "I trust you."

Tracie wrapped her arms around me, the cheap polyester of her costume rustling. "Don't worry, Mom. The file stuff is just going to be for the file. We're doing so good."

I hugged her back. The file still existed, but I was thankful things were going in the right direction. What had started as horrible blackmail videos was now cute, fun cosplay pictures. I started to feel more hopeful about reclaiming a loving life with my daughter.

AN OLD FRIEND

Things were going pretty great at work. I landed a big new order, and my boss said they'd been trying to get that client for years. In fact, at the company's quarterly regional conference, my boss announced me as "Lorraine Gasparo, our awesome new hire."

When I noticed other salespeople looking at me a little enviously, I knew I was doing well. I had taken a career break to be a stay-at-home mom for all those years, but I could still do the job - and clearly, the competitive social nature of salespeople hadn't changed much either.

At the same conference, everyone gathered for a presentation by the regional sales manager. I recognized him immediately.

It had been at least a dozen years since I had last seen Bill. I used to work with him at another company before I got married. He was always so sweet to me back then. The first thing he did when he reached the podium was wink at me and say, "Lorraine, great to see you again. Let's talk after this."

After Bill's presentation, he came right over to me and said with a big smile, "After all this time, what are the chances we'd both end up here? Must be fate, huh? How about we catch up during the lunch break?"

I readily agreed. I was fully aware that I would have hated Bill or anyone else to see me the previous winter. But now I was sober, healthy, succeeding at work, and feeling good - and I knew it was my beautiful daughter Tracie who had made it all possible.

Bill offered to drive to a nice nearby restaurant for lunch. To say I was impressed with his car is an understatement. It wasn't flashy - he had never been that kind of guy - but it was clear that he was doing very, very well for himself.

But Bill refused to let me gush about how successful he'd been since we last worked together. He just wanted to talk about me and the people we used to work with. It was so easy being with him.

After we gave the server our lunch orders, Bill said, "Look at me: lost hair, gained weight, but you look as good as you did fifteen years ago - maybe even better."

I said, "Well, thank you. My daughter is a bit of a fitness buff. She keeps me exercising and staying healthy."

"Oh, you have a daughter? How old is she?"

"She just turned nineteen, actually. All grown up and ready to leave the nest."

Bill looked confused. "Maybe my math is off - I don't remember you having any kids back when we worked at Acme."

"Well, she's my stepdaughter. She was already in grade school when I met her father."

"Oh, so you're married, then?"

"No, we divorced a couple years ago. But I'm still close with my daughter. She lives with me, in fact - it's just the two of us. She's the best, honestly. The luckiest thing in my life was her coming into it."

Bill listened with a warm smile while I bragged about Tracie, what a great kid she was, sports star, top of her class, all the scholarship offers she was getting, how much I loved her.

"That's just wonderful, Lorraine. It doesn't surprise me in the least that you would be an excellent mother."

His compliment went straight to my heart.

Bill's phone rang. He glanced at it and looked disappointed. "I'm so sorry, Lorraine. Just give me one moment."

I was glad to be able to watch the master in action.

He answered the phone and listened, his eyes darting around thoughtfully. He said, "Where's this coming from, Nelson?" Then he said, "Uh-huh. Thanks. Listen, I'm in an important meeting right now." He winked at me. "Will you please just tell them I will get back to them within the next hour?" He glanced at his watch. "Well, say by two o'clock. Thanks, buddy. No, don't worry. It'll be alright. Bye." He immediately returned all his attention to me with a smile.

"What's that about?" I asked.

"Ah, one of our biggest clients, over on the west side of the state. They've been threatening to go with Consolidated if we don't give in on a bunch of things, and they want an answer."

I was impressed he had blown off an important situation just for me. I said, "Are you going to give them what they want?"

"Haven't decided."

"Okay..." I said, as the server set down our entrées. "How will you know by two o'clock?"

Bill chuckled. "I knew this was coming. I've done the numbers five different ways, talked to all the departments. It's a close call. So I want to finish this lovely lunch with you to help me decide what to do."

"What does lunch with me have to do with it?"

He smiled, "Because I think better when I'm in a really good mood, and you make me feel that way."

What girl wouldn't melt at that?

After we finished eating, we lingered at the table, just talking. I said, "So tell me, Bill, give me some of your magic wisdom. What's the secret to your success?"

He laughed, "From what I'm hearing, you hardly need the advice. But I'll tell you what I always say, because it's what I really think. You can't always play it safe. You've got to take some risks - real risks. Sometimes, scary risks. If you have a hunch - if your body just seems to naturally react a certain way - trust it. Sometimes you'll be wrong. But it's much worse to be afraid, because it's those risky times that pay off the most. My biggest wins came from going where other people wouldn't dare. The best is when everyone thinks you're crazy - you even wonder yourself - but it just feels right, you go for it, and it turns out to be a home run."

I nodded in admiration.

He added, "For instance, I took a risk to ask you to lunch, and here we are. It's so nice to see you again, Lorraine."

The regional conference ended with a nice banquet. I had told Tracie beforehand that I wouldn't be home for dinner with her. She asked if there would be alcohol there. I told her, probably, yes. After a moment of thought, Tracie had said, "I trust you, Mom."

You better believe I stuck to water only at the banquet! I was proud of myself for not even being tempted.

When I finally did get home, my sweet stepdaughter jumped up to greet me with a hug.

She said, "So, how did the big meeting go?"

"Pretty great, actually. My boss commended me in front of everyone, and I reconnected with an old friend I used to work with, way back when."

"Good for you, Mom."

"And," I said, "some people were having cocktails with dinner, but..." I opened my mouth and gave a little breath test.

Instead of sniffing, Tracie kissed my cheek. She said, "I'm not sure how much I need to keep checking. You've been doing so good, Mom." Her smile warmed my heart. She went on, "How about another movie and cuddle night?"

"You angel, you read my mind." It had become our favorite thing to do together.

My daughter took my hand. "And, after your long day, what do you think about a foot treatment?"

"Oh my gosh, what is it, my birthday?"

Tracie shrugged cutely. "It's been a while. And I'm proud of you."

"Thank you, honey. I definitely want the movie and cuddle. I'll think about the foot treatment. A normal foot treatment? Clothes on, right? Nothing crazy?"

She shrugged again. "Any way you want it."

I tugged on her hand and said, "Come in my room while I change clothes. There's something I want to tell you."

With a sweet smile, my baby girl followed me.

In my room, I started taking off my work clothes while Tracie sat on my bed.

She said, "So, what is it? Did you get a promotion or something already? A nice big raise?"

"That would be nice, but no, not that. Not yet. Something else pretty exciting, though."

"Tell me."

For some reason I felt nervous to tell her, so as a distraction, I continued to change clothes while I talked, hanging some of my work clothes, tossing some into the dirty laundry basket. "Well that old friend I mentioned - a really nice guy named Bill - I think you'd like him."

"Yeah?"

"Well, I had lunch with him - to catch up, you know? And then, later, after dinner, he asked me out on a date."

Tracie's face woke up in surprise. "Oh, wow. So... what did you say?"

I shrugged, excited. "Well... I said yes."

She sat up straighter. "You did? Wow. Okay."

I said, "My first date since I was dating your dad. Like, what, thirteen, fourteen years. Yikes!"

Tracie nodded for several seconds. "Huh. Well, I'm not surprised, Mom. You're beautiful and you're single. I guess it was a matter of time, right?"

"I guess all that working out paid off, huh? And being sober, of course. I don't think Bill drinks, either. So, it's all thanks to you."

Tracie picked at my bedspread. "Hm. Thanks to me... So, you like this guy?"

"Well, I mean, he was always real nice to me back in the day. It's just a date. We'll see."

I took off my bra and decided to toss it in with the dirties.

Tracie cleared her throat. "Oh, um... Oh my god."