Stepbrother Bastard

by Colleen Masters

  “I thought you were seriously mad at me for a second,” I say, standing on my tip toes to reach my phone.

  “Nah,” he says, “I don’t blame you for wanting to get this sexy bod of mine on record.”

  “You’re such a dick,” I laugh, jumping to my feet as Cash gives chase. We dart around the clearing in the all-together, belly-laughing all the while. The way Cash can go from serious to playful, solemn to soulful, is incredible. His ever-changing mood is the most enticing things about him, and the most challenging. But hey—challenges are my thing, right?

  “Truce! Truce. You can keep the picture,” he finally allows, coming to a stop. “Just as long as I get to send this one of you to myself…”

  “Fine, fair is fair,—” I reply, holding up my hands. Cash taps a few keys and raises a victorious fist into the air.

  “There it goes!” he crows, handing my phone over at last, “That sucker is all mine.”

  “Oh god,” I groan, clutching my phone to my bare chest, “Now the NSA has seen me in my birthday suit.”

  “Lucky motherfuckers, if you don’t mind my saying,” Cash grins, giving me a playful pat on the ass before going to fetch his clothes.

  “Ha, ha,” I drawl, rolling my eyes, “Whatever, it’s fine. Now you have something to remember me by, I guess.”

  “What’re you, swimming back to Seattle from here?” he laughs, pulling on his jeans, “What do you mean remember you—”

  “Since we won’t be seeing each other after the trip, I mean,” I blurt out unthinkingly. The blunt certainty of my statement comes off way harsher than I meant it to. Fiddling with my own clothes, I stammer on, “I meant to remember me by…after.”

  Cash’s body tenses for a fraction of a second, but that’s all it takes for the spell of our gorgeous morning to be shattered. I invoked our relationship’s inevitable deadline, here of all places. Now I feel as though I’ve ruined everything.

  “Right,” Cash says gruffly, pulling his tee back over his head.

  “I just meant, you know, that I’m not expecting anything here,” I say, stepping into my clothes as quickly as possible.

  “Yeah, I got it,” he goes on, tucking his hands into his pockets as I finish dressing.

  “Are you mad that I said—? I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s fine, Maddie,” he tells me, his expression neutral, “I wasn’t expecting you to ride off into the sunset with me either.”

  “No…I know,” I reply, giving my hair a nervous tousle.

  “You’ve got a whole life of your own back in Washington,” he goes on, rolling up the blanket. I hop off quickly to avoid being rolled up with it. “And I’ve got my own shit back home, too. Nothing as impressive as your job, but still. I’ve got a good thing going.”

  “No one’s saying you don’t,” I reply, crossing my arms tightly.

  “Course not,” he smiles placidly, tucking the blanket back under his arm.

  We’re squared off across the clearing, our closeness of a moment ago scattered to the morning breeze. There’s so much that we’re not saying, so much of ourselves that we’re still trying to protect. At least, that’s what I’m doing. Cash has retreated back behind his unreadable mask, so I can’t even guess at what he’s thinking.

  “We should head back,” he says shortly, turning toward the canoe, “Before everyone else wakes up.”

  “Right,” I say, following in his stride.

  Everyone else: the real reason why we could never be together past this wonderful couple weeks.

  Chapter Nine

  Though mentioning the inevitable conclusion of our fling right after having incredible sex was a bit of a fumble, my misstep isn’t without its up side. Knowing that we only have a little more than a week in each other’s company adds a major exponent onto mine and Cash’s want of each other. All of a sudden, we’re locked in a race to see just how much mind-blowing sex we can have before distance and circumstance separate us.

  And it seems that the answer is: quite a bit.

  My secret excursions with Cash become a regular occurrence. I don’t think I sleep for the next few days, I’m too excited to hear his telltale knock on my bedroom door. At first, we contain our liaisons to the dead of night, when we know everyone else in the house will be sleeping. But soon enough, it becomes clear that a few hours of the day just won’t cut it. Cash’s early efforts at throwing the others off our trail peter out as our days together tick away. We’re still careful around our family members, feigning indifference to each other during group meals and activities. But the second we find ourselves alone again, it’s a whole other story.

  We steal away whenever we can, our hunger for each other only increasing each time it’s sated. No place is safe from the urgency of our need. We have each other in the bed of the family’s pickup truck, in remote corners of the woods accessed by ATV, even in the outdoor shower stall on one rather reckless occasion. We both know that it’s risky, that one of our parents or siblings could very well catch on (or catch us in the act), but the awkwardness of that outcome doesn’t come close to outweighing even a second Cash and I get to spend together. Besides, we’re doing our due diligence not to get caught. Getting caught would mean being forced apart—and that’s not an option. Not now. Not yet.

  As the first half of my two-week vacation draws nearer, I find that I’ve completely acclimated to this strange domestic arrangement. Whereas the idea of John Hawthorne and my mom having a little summer fling totally freaked me out at the beginning of the week, given my feelings for Cash, I can hardly muster up the energy to care by now. Life out here by the lake plays out with its own set of rules. It’s easy enough to imagine that the eight of us are the only people on the planet.

  We’re so isolated out here that I feel my anxieties about any taboos Cash and I are toying with falling by the wayside. So what if my mom and John were high school sweethearts? So what if they’ve been all moony-eyed during our week here? I know my mother well enough to be certain that it isn’t really serious. The only thing in her life that she tended with any consistency at all was her relationship with my father. There’s no chance in hell that she could replicate that with any other man. Especially not John Hawthorne.

  On the second Saturday night of my stay at the Hawthorne lake house, I find myself with a couple hours to kill before my next rendezvous with Cash. He and his brothers are helping John with a small contracting job in town that needed a few extra hands. Even a few hours of separation from Cash is making me crawl up the walls. I try to distract myself by diving into Love in the Time of Cholera, one of my favorite Gabriel García Márquez novels. But even the absorbing, magic realism of his prose isn’t enough to tear my thoughts away from Cash.

  But wouldn’t you know it, a different sort of distraction offers itself up to me (whether I like it or not). For the first time this week, it’s just us Porter ladies hanging around the house, without the company of the Hawthorne men. And my mother pounces on the opportunity for a little “girl talk”.

  “Maddie!” I hear her call up the stairs as I root through my suitcase for some sexy underthings, “Come on down to the front porch, honey!”

  “In a minute,” I call back, holding up a bright red thong for consideration. A bit too on-the-nose, I decide. Cash and I are planning on visiting some local dive bar later, a place he frequents whenever he’s back in his hometown. This is the first time we’ll be in public as a pair since that first night at the roadside bar. I don’t know why, but I’m super turned on by the idea of being seen together in the “real world”. It’ll make it feel like this isn’t all just some crazy dream I’ve wandered into. But seeing as I’m already excited to spend some more alone time with Cash, I want to be prepared for what might come after. Pun absolutely intended.

  I hear the warm sound of female conversation as I make my way down the stairs and step out onto the front porch. Four wooden Adirondack chairs are arranged along the verandah and occupied by my mom and sisters. Set
on a low wicker table between them is quite a feast—fruit, cheese, chocolate, and four bottles of wine. I raise an eyebrow at Mom, watching as Anna and Sophie pour themselves generous glasses.

  “What?” she says, waving off my skeptical look, “Can’t we indulge a little for once? How often do I get to have all my girls in the same place? Come on. Let me spoil you a little.”

  “I’m not complaining,” Sophie laughs, piling a plate with fresh strawberries and real whipped cream.

  “Just don’t narc on little nineteen-year-old me,” Anna smiles, “This being my first taste of alcohol ever, obviously.”

  “I’m sure,” Mom replies, rolling her eyes.

  I wave my suspicion aside, never one to complain about free booze and snacks. I sink down into the last available chair as my family’s conversation resumes.

  “I think it’s very smart of you, getting some extra credits over the summer,” Mom says to Sophie, propping her feet up on the porch railing.

  “I just want the option of graduating early, if anything good comes up,” Sophie replies, sipping her wine, “Acting apprenticeships are pretty competitive. If I snag a good one in the middle of senior year, I want to be able to grab it.”

  “Campus must be pretty quiet in the summer,” Mom goes on, “I’m sure it’ll be relaxing to get some alone time.”

  “Not that you’ll be entirely without company,” Anna remarks, her voice purposefully casual. I catch Sophie shooting her an evil glare.

  “Oh! Will some of your friends be doing the summer session too?” Mom asks cheerfully. “How fun.”

  “Uh. Kind of,” Sophie says vaguely, looking as though she wants to dive head first into her glass of wine. “It, uh, turns out that Luke is going to be TA-ing some more classes this session…And he’s going to be an RA, too.”

  “RA? What’s that?” Mom asks.

  “A resident assistant,” Sophie says, her voice pained, “It means he’ll be living in the dorms, too. Making sure us kiddos don’t get into any trouble.”

  I have to try hard not to giggle at Sophie’s discomfort. I’ve barely seen her look at Luke all week. I’m sure having him around her on campus all summer isn’t exactly a dream come true. Though from the way Luke’s been looking at her, I doubt he minds too much. I’ve been so wrapped up in my fling with Cash that I’ve dropped the ball on getting to the bottom of their drama. I make a mental note to get the truth out of Sophie before the week is up.

  “Get out,” Mom breathes, grabbing Sophie’s hand, “That is so, so wonderful. And here I thought all you kids were going to go your separate ways after this week. I’m so glad you two will get to keep on being friends.”

  “Uh-huh,” my middle sister says, a hot blush rising in her cheeks.

  “I guess Sophie and Luke will have to be the ones keeping in touch for all of us, huh?” Anna goes on, her tone unreadable, “Since the rest of us will be going home after this?”

  “Seems that way,” I add, trying to keep my voice as neutral as hers.

  A small smile lifts the corner of Mom’s mouth. “Well, actually…” she says conspiratorially, “I wanted to talk to you girls about just that.”

  My sisters and I trade uneasy glances. Mom has that brand-new-scheme glint in her eye. And that’s never a good thing for the rest of us. I survey the bounty of booze and treats with a fresh wave of wariness. Has she just been trying to butter us up with this “girls night”? And if so, what is she about to spring on us now?

  “What’s up, Mom?” Sophie asks uneasily.

  “Well,” Mom begins, taking a big swig of her wine, “I know I told you that my plan for this summer was to spend a little time getting grounded in my hometown before going back to Vermont. Really, I just wanted a couple of weeks away from it all. At first.”

  “Are you staying for longer, then?” Anna asks, “Did you find another place to rent in town or something?”

  “Or something,” Mom beams at us. “Actually…God, I feel like a teenager again, dishing with you girls like this. But actually, things have been going so well for me and John here that he’s…he’s invited me to stay!”

  My sisters and I stare blankly at our mother, unmoving.

  “You mean like, for another couple of weeks…?” I ask, my voice hollow.

  “And another, and another,” Mom grins happily, sinking back in her chair.

  “Mom, just cut to the chase, OK?” Sophie says heatedly, “Exactly how long are you going to stay here playing house with John?”

  “Watch your tone,” Mom scolds her, taken aback by her reaction, “But since you ask, I’m planning on staying indefinitely.”

  That word, indefinitely, echoes across the wide front lawn as my sisters and I try to comprehend it.

  “But…You don’t live here,” Anna says, eyes wide, “You live in Vermont. In our house. The house we’ve always lived in.”

  “Yes, dear,” Mom says, her voice hardening, “I know. I have been living in that house much longer than any of you. And since you’re planning to move out to go ‘find yourself’, Anna, I’d soon be living there all alone. Or I would have been, if John hadn’t offered—”

  “Are you… Selling our house?” I ask softly, knowing that I sound for the world like a wounded child.

  “I am planning to sell the house, yes,” Mom says coolly.

  “But that’s—you can’t—were you even going to talk to us about it?!” Sophie cries.

  “That’s what I’m doing now,” Mom explains. “Not that I need your permission, but I’m taking my time weighing the decision to—”

  “Really? Because it seems to me like you’ve already made your choice,” Sophie shoots back, “We love that house, Mom. Our whole childhoods, our entire lives with Dad were there. That place is all we have left of him. We can’t lose—”

  “Don’t tell me about loss,” Mom snaps suddenly, her voice high and shrill. I feel my body go utterly still. I know this change that comes over her too well. One minute it’s sunshine and happiness, the next it’s resentment and rage. She goes on, uninterested in pulling any punches now. “I know all about loss, thank you. Your father was the love of my life, from the time I was just a girl. You’ll never be able to feel the loss of him the way I have.”

  “Christ, Mom…” I breathe, staring at her aghast, “Are you seriously making our grief into a pissing contest right now?”

  “Of course not,” she snaps, swigging her wine, “Because it’s no contest whatsoever. Your father is a part of your past. You can all move on and lead long, happy lives now. But he was my future. My entire future. I’ve lost more than you can possibly imagine, losing him.”

  Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I have to steady myself against the armrest to keep from falling over—or else throwing myself at her. Sophie and Anna are rooted in their seats, looking appalled, disappointed, but most of all hurt. That does it for me. No one gets to hurt my little sisters, even if that someone happens to be our mother. I draw myself up and fix my eyes on her, finally putting voice to the words I’ve wanted to throw at her for so long.

  “What would you even know about what we’ve all been going through since Dad died?” I ask her, the evenness of my voice surprising even me. “In the past three years, you haven’t bothered to check in with any of us about how we were doing. Not once. You don’t know the first thing about how his death has changed our lives.”

  “Please,” Mom scoffs, “I think I know my own daughters—”

  “Did you know I’ve been seriously depressed for the last three years?” I cut her off, my hands balling into fists, “Did you know that I barely made it through the first semester back at school after he died? That I almost dropped out just before graduating? I talked about being a literature professor like him, for my entire life. Did you ever wonder why I suddenly changed my mind and punted to marketing? It’s because reading the books he loved, following in his footsteps, was too painful for me once he was gone. His death has changed my entire life. My en
tire future. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of him. And all that's to say nothing of your other two daughters.”

  Mom’s mouth straightens into a hard line as she glances at Sophie and Anna. “Is this how you girls feel as well?” she asks crisply, “That I’ve been ‘negligent to your needs’ since Archie passed away? Hmm?”

  “I don’t know if you can say ‘negligent’…” Anna replies, fixing Mom with a cool stare, “Since you never considered our needs in the first place. I’d say indifferent, if anything.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” Mom cries.

  “Why bother asking if you’re just going to shoot us down?” Anna snaps back. “The truth is, Mom, that we’ve been taking care of you since Dad died.”

  “Especially Anna,” Sophie jumps in, “I got to run off to drama school and deal with shit on my own, but she was left to pick up the pieces while you collapsed. We know that Dad’s passing was hard on you. Of course it was. But how can you say that we didn’t feel it too? How can you know so little about your own kids and not even care?”

  “Well,” Mom says, setting her wine glass down on the porch and standing to go, “If this is the way you feel, then I’d think you’d be happy to be rid of me. I’ll stay here with John, and take myself off your hands for good.”

  “For good? Mom, be serious,” Sophie cries, exasperated, “You’ve had plenty of flings since dad died. How is this one any different? You’re putting our family, our home, everything at stake for him. Please, just take a second to consider—”

  “You’ve given me plenty to consider tonight,” Mom cuts her off. “I’ve apparently failed you as a mother, isn’t that right? You’d be better off without me?”

  “That’s not what we’re saying at all, Mom,” I tell her, a hard knot finally beginning to form in my throat, “What I’ve wanted more than anything else since dad died was my mother. I’ve always wanted you to be a part of my life. Please don’t make that impossible.”

  “I see,” Mom replies, looking around at all of us disdainfully, “Well, girls. Thank you for making this decision so easy for me. Since I’m apparently incapable of being a good mother to you, I’ll just go ahead and bow out. Seeing as I’m impossible. Anna, you’re more than welcome to stay at the Vermont house until it’s sold. Though I suggest finding other accommodations quickly. I’m sure that property will get snatched up quick.”