Note to All - No one under the age of 18 is engaged in any sort of sexual activity in this fictional story. It is neither implied, inferred, suggested, nor endorsed by this author.
Stepdad Becomes Boyfriend
Gianna - (daughter) 22 years old. 5'9", 120 lbs., blonde hair, brown eyes. 32A-22-32
Brian - (stepdad) 37 years old. 6'3", 200 lbs., dark brown hair, brown eyes.
Julie - (mom) 40 years old. 5'8", 130 lbs., blonde hair, brown eyes. 36C-26-38
Being raised by a single mom isn't easy. Being a kid with a bad attitude being raised by a single mom can be a nightmare. This is the story of how my mom and I met a guy named Brian, moved in with him, and how a tumultuous relationship between me and Brian blossomed into love. My name is Gianna and this is my story. But for you to fully understand this story, I have to take you back to when we first became a step-family.
I was 15 at the time and mom had met some guy named Brian. At the time, Mom was 33 and Brian was 30. I was a freshman in high school, Mom was working two jobs to support us, and Brian was a successful business man who was in the real estate market. Mom and Brian met at a coffee shop where they both stopped off to get breakfast every morning before work and it turned into a romance.
When Mom first told me about Brian, all I could think about was "Yeah, here we go again with another temporary romance that is gonna end in shattered hearts and broken promises." To say I extremely pessimistic about their relationship would have been a huge understatement. When it came to Mom and failed relationships, one would have been better off wearing a shirt that said "Been There. Done That. Failed Again."
I wasn't exactly cheering for this relationship to be successful. Mom had been in and out of more temporary relationships than I could count. We had moved six times in the past 10 years, courtesy of her being able to pick out some bad relationships to be in. I was skeptical of any man she brought around because I hadn't seen or heard from my Dad in over 10 years. I had no clue where he was or what he was doing or if he was even still alive.
Mom and Brian had been seeing each other for almost four months and Mom announced we were going to move in with him. I wasn't happy. I could smell the gloom and disaster in the air. On move in day, Brian showed me which room was mine and told me to decorate it as I saw fit. I was such a Negative Nancy that the only response I could give him was "Yeah whatever." I'm sorry but that's all I had at the time. I had my wall calendar ready to check off the number of days this relationship was gonna last. I gave it three months --- tops.
I'll give Brian credit. He tried hard. I mean, real hard, to get me to open up to him and give him a chance. I half ass tried but I was so afraid of getting hurt and disappointed once again. He asked me about school and I gave one word answers. Mom yelled at me about my wardrobe choices for school and she encouraged Brian to discipline about my clothing. He chose to steer clear of that conversation, I'm guessing, because it would start World War 3. Also, I don't think he wanted to assert his opinions into a relationship with a girl that he barely knew and the friction that would follow. Basically, I was being a shit head on purpose. All I wanted to do was go to school, maintain my "C" average, graduate, and skip town to anywhere that would get me away from all the stress and disappointment I had experienced to that point in my life.
Then, on a Friday afternoon, three months after we had moved in with Brian, after I got home from school, the dynamic of my relationship with Brian changed. I walked in the house. The stereo in the living room was turned up sort of loud, and I saw Brian in the dining room with a Swiffer in his hand. He was holding it like a microphone and singing along to Sam Cooke's "Bring it on Home to Me", which was playing on the stereo. He looked at me, smiled, and kept on singing. I don't know why but I smiled back, ran to the utility closet, grabbed a broom, acted like it was a microphone, and sidled up next to him and sang along. I think we were both off key but I don't think either of us cared.
The next song was "My Girl" by The Temptations and we came up with an off the cuff dance as we both sang along to it. I showed him some moves and he caught on. We danced our way through the song and gave each other a high five at the end. For the next two hours, Brian and I pretended to be rock stars singing along to the songs on the stereo, using the Swiffer and broom as microphone props. I even helped him fix dinner - pasta, sauce with meatballs, garlic bread, and a side salad. We kept right on singing while we made dinner. Mom got home from one of her two jobs and couldn't believe that Brian and I were getting along so well.
I don't know what compelled me to join him in the kitchen. Brian showed me a side of him that, until that afternoon, I had never seen before. I liked it. I loved music as well and I honestly feel that us singing and dancing in the kitchen was probably the hump we needed to get over in order to coexist as a stepdad and stepdaughter.
The next morning, Saturday, Brian knocked on my bedroom door and asked if I wanted to go to Starbucks to get coffee. I told him to give me 15 minutes to get ready and I would go with him. Mom had already left for her other job. I got up, brushed my teeth, threw on some clothes, and joined Brian in the living room before leaving the house. We went and got coffee and sat outside in the shade to enjoy the nice weather and talk. I don't know why but I found myself being more open with him and talking about my life and he told me he would be a sounding board any time I wanted to talk. He let me know he wasn't there to judge me and that he wanted to help me be anything I wanted to be in life.
We finished our coffee and then Brian asked me something I wasn't expecting.
"You're 15, right?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"Has anyone taught you how to drive yet?"
"No. Why?
"Today is driving lesson day."
"What? No way!"
"Yes way. Come on."
We got in his car and went to the high school. I was squealing with joy. He taught me the basics of road safety and car operations and what to do in traffic situations. We switched places. I got in the drivers seat, he in the passenger seat, and around the very large empty high school parking lot we went. For a little over two hours, he talked me through all kinds of scenarios I would see in traffic. Anything and everything he could share, he did. I felt like he had an actual interest in seeing me do well. When it was time to leave, we switched places and left to go home. When we pulled up in the driveway, he told me he would make an appointment for me to take my drivers test to get my permit.
Two weeks later, I had my drivers permit and Brian let me drive him anywhere he needed to go on the weekends. Some days, he would let me drive to school, with him in the passenger seat, just so I could get good practice.
As Brian and I were getting closer, I noticed that he and Mom were growing apart. I didn't know what to do or say but I was fearing the worst. A month before my 16th birthday, I got home from school and found Brian on the sofa in the living room crying. I asked him what was wrong. He said Mom was pregnant. At first I was happy and offered congratulations but he had this genuine sadness and hurt in his eyes. The baby wasn't his. He confided in me that he and Mom hadn't been intimate in five months.
Mom came home and went outside on the back patio so we could talk. I was mad. She said she hadn't loved Brian for a while now and that she had run into an old boyfriend. They met at his place and had sex and she got pregnant. She didn't know how she was going to tell me or Brian so she just came out and told him after I had left to go to school that morning. She said that she and Ray, the guy, the baby daddy, whatever you wanted to call him, were moving two states over. I told her I wasn't going anywhere because all of my friends were here and, for once, I had a stable life. I also told her that if she tried to force me to go, I would file for emancipation so that I could live on my own. I knew, deep down, that Brian didn't want me to leave and I didn't want to leave either. I wanted to graduate from high school here. Mom said she would allow it on one condition - that Brian be appointed guardian in case of any medical emergencies or other paperwork requiring adult signatures. Brian accepted and agreed and I was happy he did.
Brian filed the paperwork for guardianship and Mom moved out. Right before spring break, a couple of weeks later, I asked Brian if he would take me to my grandma's house, about 60 miles away so I could spend spring break with her. He said it wouldn't be a problem at all. He drove me to grandma's. We texted and call each other every day to make sure we were both OK. For the first time, I felt like I had an actual competent father figure in my life. Brian came and picked me up on Sunday, the last day of spring break and we drove back home. When we got home, he told me he had some surprises that he thought I would like.
We started in my bedroom. He had repainted the room to a soft teal color, my favorite color. He ripped the carpet out and put in new hard wood flooring. He bought me a make up vanity with the lights all around it and placed it in one corner of the room. He knew I liked butterflies so he had photos and paintings of butterflies hanging around the room. He took me to his home office down the hall. He bought me a nice desk and placed it one side of the office across from his work desk and he bought me a new laptop and printer so that I could get all of my school work done. And lastly, he bought me a new cell phone to replace the old beat up phone I had. I cried, hugged him hard, and thanked him for his kindness.
For the remainder of my high school years, Brian and I were like an actual father and daughter. I changed the way I dressed and started dressing more maturely. I changed my attitude and started being nicer to people. I did my homework in Brian's/our home office while Brian sat in there or in the living room reading. We spent so much quality time together. We played cards, Scrabble, put together jigsaw puzzles, went running, went driving with me doing most of the driving, went to the movies, watched TV together, cooked together, and we did the grocery shopping together. We were a family. For the first time in my life, I was happy and at peace with the way things were going in my life.
On my 16th birthday, Brian took me to get my license. I passed. I was so happy. He asked me if I wanted to go visit any of my friends so that I could show them I had my license. I told him that what I really wanted to do was go with him and get ice cream at the local ice cream shop. We ordered ice cream and sat in the little shop and chatted away like we had known each other forever. Before we threw away our trash from the empty ice cream cups, I told Brian something I hadn't told anyone in a very long time. I told him I loved him. He looked surprised. He told me he loved me too.