My Stepbrothers

I was 13 when my parents divorced. The matter was concluded swiftly one Sunday evening in July over the dinner table although I assumed there were several underlying issues that I was never told about. I was 13 when my Mother informed me of her remarrying. This matter was settled away from my ears and just two moths after my Fathers departure, although I assumed the consumation of my Mothers new found relationship had happened almost as soon as it wouldn’t be considered adultry.

A non complacent, happy child is how my relatives would describe me – the alcholic uncles, prosac intoxicated auts and senile grandparents – I hardly take notice of there perceptions, especially those of me. I was close to my Mother as a baby, toddler, child and preteen. My first period came on my 13th birthday exactly, I think this was when my Mother seperated herself from me. Maybe that was when the arguments between her and my Father started and maybe this was to blame for the collapse or our relationship but as women, my Mother and I are merely civil to eachother. I was close to my father. He was an inspirational man of strong morale and strong will, he wasn’t a gambler, drinker, smoker, or anything addictive. He worked hard and earned a modest wage, enough to support our small family. I never could pinpoint where or when the collapse took place. That Sunday evening when everything seemed so peaceful was the first time I realised things weren’t as they used to be. Spiteful comments and bitter remarks were exchanged before the plates and cups were thrown and smashed and I was sent to bed, I had lain listening to my mother raising and lowering her voice and my Fathers muffled retorts. Then the front door slammed and I havn’t seen my Father since.

I was introduced to Peter in September, I had heard him in the house many times before but I stayed concealed in my room. I heard him fuck my mum too and I hated him for taking the place of a much superior man. But he was pleasnet enough, he shook my hand and smiled generously as I eyed him carefully. He was well over 6 foot with broad shoulders and muscly arms. He wore a plain baby blue T-shirt that fit quite perfectly and dark denim jeans, I noted that they were Levi and decided that he may not be so bad. I was still hurt inside that my Father was gone, but I was angry that he hadn’t made any attempt to see me after 3 months or so, so i perked up my attitude a little and made way for some positivity.
“Now I know where you Mum gets her good looks from” He laughed heartily after this and took a seat on the sofa. I didn’t like that fact that he said this, it wasn’t proper to compliment his girlfriends daughter in this manner, nor was it sensible to say that my mother got her looks from me, or that my mother had looks atall. She was a stick thin, fagile looking thin with thick red curley hair and freckled skin. I suppose her eyes were striking and her face was warm, but she had always looked so frail to me. at 5″8 she was only a little taller than myself. I took a seat beside Peter and decided to initiate a conversation.
“Where do you work” I asked, keeping my expression fairly stoney. “I’m a fireman” he answered matching his face with mine as he saw the way I was looking at him. I couldn’t help but flicker a smile, he looked amusing in his imitation. Then he screwed up his face really tight and crossed his eyes and I laughed and he gave another loud chuckle then he smiled broadly at me and asked me if I’d do him the honor of being his very good friend, even if it was just for today. I decided to reply with the widest grin I could muster and then I made my way to the kitchen where my mother had made coffee for the three of us. My Father hated me drinking anything that wasn’t water, milk or fruit juice but I had a teste for coffee and alcohol. My Mother and I had had wine together at dinner which had also been dissaproved of in the past. I pulled myself up on the counter next to Mum. “I like him!” I said with a smile. She looked up at me shocked and stared for a second then she pulled me down off the counter and hugged me as hard as she could. “Were going to be really happy” she promised.

Several months passed in which there were nights in, nights out, expensive dinners and perfect saturday afternoons at the leisure centre all in the company of Mum and Pete. It turns out that he had always recently divorced his partner and had three sons who lived with her in Surrey. I had lived in Southwold, a remote seaside town surrounded by farmland and nature resrves all my life, so had Mum, my Father moved here two years before I was born. I was eager to meet the boys but I wasn’t sure if either Pete or Mum were inteding to make them part of the family until the morning of New Years eve.
“You’re going to meet your step brothers tonight” Mum told me in the nail salon where we had become regular customers. My mum had taken up her old job, a small personal business in which she made arts and crafts and trinkets of all sorts, the money wouldn’t have kept us going alone but Pete insisted that she keep that money for pleasures and indulgences, his salary could pay the bills and feed us. Pete also had a fortune left for him by his grandparents which he dipped into now and then if we ever needed the extra. Mum had kept her promise – We were really happy.
“Where?” I asked, I had butterfiles for no apparent reason and was thouroghly intrgued.
“We’re going to a New Years party at a club house in surrey, Petes boys foned a couple of days back. His ex wife left them, she left an over dramatic note apparently explaining why she couldn’t cope. Pete said the boys were never a handful for him, he doesn’t quite understand it.” I had become close to Mum ever since theday I first met Pete, I wanted her to have a family as much as I wanted it for myself, I had excluded her in the past, always thinking she was the inferior parent with no real purpose since I didn’t need any cre atall anymore. She never worked, this was because my Father thought it wrong for a women to work.