My name is Riley Osborne, and I was 12 years old when my story began. My father, Trevor Osborne, was a lawyer specializing in business law. He and my mother, Catrina Ryan, dated while they were in high school but broke up during the summer as they would be going to different colleges out of state. Fortunately for me, they remained in contact and reunited after they graduated with their degrees. My folks married a year after their reunion. Like my Dad, Mom was also a lawyer, but she specialized in family law.
The two of them worked for their respective firms and were married 3 years before I came along. After I was born, Mom only worked part-time, usually consulting, until I started school full-time. With me in school, she could then spend more time at work and not have to focus on raising me. I love my parents very much, but it was obvious that they were far more focused on their careers than their marriage. It was the summer after I turned 11 that they sat me down and told me that while they still loved me and each other, they weren't in love with one another. I didn't really understand the concept, but Dad put it in terms I could understand. He stated it was like my old video game system. While I like it and occasionally play it, it wasn't my focus any longer. That was how they felt about one another.
So, as there was no animosity between them, my parents divorced amicably, and they would jointly share custody of me. Prior to their divorce, Mom moved out of our house and bought a small condo closer to her work. I was fortunate enough to have my own room in each house, and while things weren't the same, I divided my time between the two houses. I would spend a week at a time at each house, and when it was mom's week, she had to drive me to school in the morning, but as she started work later than Dad, she didn't mind. Despite the change in our dynamic, life was good, and I enjoyed getting to spend exclusive time with each of my parents. I also made out quite nicely gift-wise, as they seemed to compete with each other in that department.
Two months after their divorce was finalized, my parents began dating new people but usually relegated going on those dates to the week that I wasn't with them. As such, I rarely, if ever, met the person they were dating. It wasn't until the end of my 8th grade year, when I was 14, that my dad started seriously dating only one woman. The first week of summer, I was introduced to both her and her daughter. The woman's name was Talia Stephens, and her daughter's name was Delilah. Talia was a year or two younger than my parents and had a phony look to her. Delilah was the same age and grade as I was, only a month or so younger. I knew something was off because as soon as Talia entered the picture, the equilibrium that my parents had maintained over the last two years shifted. Part of my parent's divorce settlement was that each of my parents got two weeks with me in July so that we could go somewhere on vacation. My parents agreed that Mom would get the first two weeks of July and Dad the last two.
It was Sunday night, and Mom was returning me to my father so that we could get ready for our father/son vacation time, not that I knew what he had planned. I saw Talia's car in the drive and groaned aloud. Mom asked me what was wrong, and I told her that Dad's girlfriend was there. Mom didn't seem bothered by this declaration and was curious to meet the woman. That didn't last long. From the first time the two encountered one another, my mother took an instant dislike to Talia. She never told me exactly why she took an instant dislike to the woman, but having spent time with her, I could come up with some reasons. Talia generated so much strife that the cordial relationship my parents once had quickly changed. Verbal spats that never occurred when they were divorcing soon became very frequent. The lines of communication, once open and flowing freely, quickly broke down. As such, my life was increasingly becoming very miserable.
I did my best to stay out of the line of verbal fire, but I was always nearby, and as such, I saw that with every dispute that occurred, Talia was nearby gloating. One time, when my mother was scheduled to pick me up but was running late due to court, I saw Talia poisoning my father's opinion about my mother. She goaded him, convinced him my mom was out to assert some kind of control over dad's and my life. I watched as my apologetic mother was ridiculed by my father for trying to take advantage of his generosity. Mom recoiled and, rather than fight with my dad in his home, simply called my name. I had retreated to my room so no one was aware that I had witnessed what had happened. From that moment on, I knew that Talia was evil and was determined to do my best to make my father aware of exactly what kind of woman she was.
A month after the incident between my parents, Dad informed me that he was taking all of us out to dinner. We were all dressed up, and as such, I felt very ill as I was sure I knew what was about to occur. I also got the sense that Talia and her daughter knew what my father had planned as well. As we all expected, my Dad did indeed propose to Talia. He had arranged for the ring to be placed on the dessert cake he had pre-ordered. Of course, Talia acted surprised by the gesture, and with all the skill of an Academy Award-winning actress, she acted surprised. I was very disgusted as the ring he presented her was very large, almost gaudy, in my opinion, and far bigger than the one he had given my mother. Dad slipped the ring on his finger and proudly announced to the restaurant that Talia said yes. They stood center stage to the applause from all but me. I faux-clapped, just putting my hands together but not actually clapping.
I wasn't surprised that Talia managed to put together a very elaborate wedding in short order. I'm sure she was making arrangements during their entire courtship. I was surprised when Dad had me deliver an invitation to my mother. I'm sure that Talia wanted her there just to rub the event in Mom's face. To my surprise, Mom did go... but as my date. She and I came up with that plan as it meant that she would be seated beside me... and them at the reception.
With a few exceptions, I didn't know any of the ladies or girls attending the wedding, but they all seemed to be of a similar class of character as Talia. As such, I only danced with two partners, my mother and Delilah. Due to our limited time together thus far, I hadn't made my mind up on what I thought of my now stepsister. I wasn't sure that Delilah wasn't cut from the same cloth as her mother. I was just doing my best to try and ascertain exactly what kind of relationship the two of us would be having. Delilah was very cordial but also very guarded. I tried to get her to open up, but she would only give me one-word responses. I took that to mean I needed to watch my back and never reveal anything to my new sister. We were both the same age, so when we went to High School, we would be in the same grade and classes more than likely.
Dad and Talia went on a Mediterranean cruise for their two-week honeymoon. For that time, both Delilah and I stayed with my mother. Lila, as I took to calling her, was very polite, but I got the impression that she was with us on a fact-finding mission. Probably digging for dirt on my mother. The only problem was that Mom was the cleanest woman that I have ever known. She was kind to Lila, always helpful, never critical, and gave the young girl no chance to act out. When they returned from their trip, the first order of business was to move to a house large enough for our new family. In reality, I knew that Talia wanted a large house to show off to her friends. The woman was a gold digger. Mom knew it, and so did I. She went from dressing casually to buying only the newest fashions from only the best stores. While Lila's clothes were higher-end than what she wore when Talia was dating my dad, she wasn't opposed to shopping at smaller mom-and-pop stores, so in that respect, I cut her a bit more slack than her mother.
Almost immediately after they returned from the honeymoon, Talia began to treat me like garbage. She never did it in front of my dad, but as he worked more hours now to afford his wife's more lavish lifestyle, it was easier for her to get away with it. As time went on, I watched as the proud man that my father had once been, a loving, equal partner with my mother, became a bonified yes man. Talia would make all the important decisions and always got her way, no matter what. Any movie we went to was her choice, she picked the restaurants they went to, even when it was my birthday. She also made sure that I rarely got to be alone with my dad anymore. As my dad wasn't around as much, I started staying two weeks at my mom's place and 1 week at my dad's home. As my dad wasn't around, all she could do was make disparaging remarks to me; she had no control over me whatsoever. To get even with me for my "disrespect," Talia would encourage my dad to assign me various chores or work projects around the house even though they had a housekeeper now to do this.
To mitigate my time in the house once school started, I decided to take up sports all year long. This was new to me, but I was determined to limit my time with Talia as much as possible. Dad didn't mind as he thought sports would be good for me. In that respect, he was right. When Lila and I walked into West High School, we were both short, scrawny teenagers. Something that Talia liked to poke fun at me for. At 14 years old, Lila was just under 5 feet tall and weighed 85 pounds. At the same age, I was 5 feet 4 inches tall and weighed 105 pounds.
My dad stood 5 feet 9 inches tall, and Talia was just two inches shorter than he was. Talia had been a gymnast in high school and college, but an injury ended any hopes that she might make the Olympic team. She had a gymnast body, and I did learn from Lila one fact after her mother ridiculed her for only making the freshman cheer squad after all her years of gymnastics and dance. During dinner, she openly criticized Lila for her weight (seriously, she's less than 100 pounds, for crying out loud. She needs to eat). The statement wounded Lila, and she snidely retorted at least her body was 100 percent real. I almost choked to death at the table, laughing as hard as I did. Talia was fuming, but rather than try and justify her appearance, she left us alone in the kitchen. Of course, it didn't take a genius to realize that Lila was implying that my wicked stepmother's breasts, which were larger than my mother's, were surgically enhanced. I would learn from Lila that she has had more work done, but I didn't need specifics, I had my ammunition for another day.
My sports schedule was as follows: in the fall, I took up cross-country running and quickly learned that I was a natural. Maybe because I was running away from the wicked witch. I was so fast that I was promoted from Freshman to Varsity. When fall sports ended and before Talia could convince my father to keep me out of sports, I decided to take up wrestling. I worked out religiously and ate more protein, so my scrawny build soon matured, and I built up some real muscle. While I didn't make varsity or even junior varsity, I was captain of the freshman team, and my team made it all the way to State, a first in our school's history.
My lovely and formerly reserved stepsister began to blossom during our first year of high school. She was once again relegated to the Freshman cheer squad and once again was ostracized by her mother. I, on the other hand, was very encouraging as Lila's squad had over 40 girls try out for the squad, and she was one of the 16 girls to make the squad (12 members, four alternates). I think my encouragement actually earned me some browny points with her, and she began to slowly open up to me more, and I likewise would do so in kind.
Winter sports gave way to spring sports, and I continued to run Track. Again, I made Varsity. Lila decided she wanted to stay away from her mother, so she also joined the Track team. She tried several events but found the Long Jump to be where she excelled. I jokingly stated it was a good thing she didn't add too much weight, or she wouldn't jump as far. We had gotten close enough that she knew I was joking with her, so she didn't take offense to my comment. She even laughed at it. During the summer, now that my father had a new family dynamic and I was old enough, I decided to get a summer job to keep out of the house as much as possible. Lila liked the idea, and after putting in some applications, we both got jobs as lifeguards at our parent's country club.
Oh yeah, we were country club members now.
My parents never felt the need to join a country club when they were married; this was all Talia's idea. She said a man of my father's stature needed to mingle with the upper crust to help him make new contacts (should he ever want to change firms) and to rub elbows with the top brass as well. Talia never went swimming, so Lila and I never saw her unless she specifically sought out Lila. Life continued for us pretty much the same every year. Lila and I took Drivers Ed at the same time as our birthdays were within a month of one another. I waited to get my license until Lila turned 16 so we could both go at the same time and support one another.
My mother drove us to the DMV, and after wishing us both luck, we took our written tests, followed by the driving test. We both passed on our first try and to congratulate us, she allowed Lila to drive her new BMW 4 series convertible. My mom's favorite color is blue, and she opted for Midnight Blue, which I also love. Lila drove the car perfectly (hardly surprising), and we pulled into the drive. Lila thanked my mom for taking her to get her license and for allowing her to drive this awesome car. Mom smiled and told Lila she was welcome,e and she would trust her to drive it any time.
Lila was giddy at the prospect of taking this car for a spin again. It was my turn to drive, and I drove the two of us toward Mom's homee but she told me to take a left, and we went into town and celebrated my birthday/driver's license. We had a great dinner, and mom gave me a gift card. When we celebrated my birthday officially, she told me she was a bit strapped for cash but would make up my birthday treat this summer. I opened my gift card, and it was a plain Happy Birthday card, nothing special. It was when I opened the card that I saw the real gift. It was a picture of her car with different license plates that said, "RAOCAR." I look at her.
"I changed the plates to my old plates, so you didn't know." My mother tells me.
