Lesbian Stepmother

by Amy Polino

  By the middle of March it began to finally warm up, and the giant piles of ice and snow slowly shrank down to dirty heaps of slush. Spring was in the air, and it seemed as though everyone had somebody to love except me. Even my boring old father.

  I continued to wade through the endless days, with nothing to look forward to. I had given up on the college applications, no longer really caring about school. At that point I couldn’t even contemplate another four years of school, let alone one ten times harder. I figured I’d graduate high school and find the best paying job I could; I’d worry about college next year. I needed a little time to figure things out first.

  It was at about that time I began to notice that Susan and my father were no longer sitting together on the couch every night. I don’t think it happened all at once, but I admit I wasn’t paying as much attention to them as I once had. Sometimes they would still cuddle up there, and sometimes they wouldn’t. But my father seemed to be back in his chair more often, with his big piles of papers, and Susan would be lying on the couch watching television. I kept thinking they were drifting apart, and I’d start getting these crazy ideas about how I would end up winning Susan’s affection and steal her away from him, and then the next night they’d be back on the couch, leaning into each other and looking happy as clams.

  I guess I never really stopped wanting Susan. I just stopped letting myself dwell on it.

  It was the first week of April, when the weather really started warming up, that my father announced to me that they were going to be getting married. I was stunned, although I’m not sure why. If I had to guess, I would have said they were more likely to break up than to get married, but of course I didn’t know everything that was going between them, nor did I want to.

  I congratulated him, and her, and wished them well. I made a promise to myself that as soon as I graduated high school I’d take the first job I could find and the first apartment I could afford, and move out. I was no longer comfortable living there. I felt like an outsider.

  They decided not to have a wedding, but just to get married in a courthouse. Or, I should say, my father decided. He hated the idea of spending his hard-earned money, and a wedding probably would have wiped him out.

  A few days before they were due to get married, Susan knocked on my bedroom door. It was well after dinner, and I was lying in bed reading. I called out for her to come in, and she did.

  She stood there gazing around my room, looking painfully beautiful in a loose fitting t-shirt and a baggy pair of shorts. She couldn’t avoid looking beautiful if she’d tried. She smiled sadly at me and asked if I had a few minutes to talk.

  “Of course,” I said. I put my book aside, which was Hunger, by Knut Hamsun. She had bought it for me as a gift, and I was loving it. She had very good taste in books.

  “Can I sit down?” she asked.

  I sat up in my bed, swinging my legs out of the way to make room for her. “Sure.”

  “Thank you.” She lowered herself onto the mattress and grinned at my progress in the book. “How do you like it so far?”

  “I love it. I’m almost afraid to finish it, because I don’t want it to end.”

  She laughed quitely. Her hair was messy and uncombed, making her look wild and sexy. I began to feel very aroused having her there on my bed. My god! How could my father have ended up with such a remarkable woman? It made no sense. “I know what you mean. But you can always read it again. I think I read that one four or five times.”

  “I know I’ll read it again. Every book you’ve recommended to me so far is one I’m planning to read again.”

  She smiled, appreciating my comment. “I’m glad. It’s nice to have somebody to share all my favorites with. I’ve never had a friend who likes to read as much as you do.”

  I nodded. I felt glad that she thought of me as her friend. “I’ll be ready for another one real soon.”

  “Don’t worry. Just let me know when you finish that one. I’ve got another one ready and waiting for you.”

  She was very thoughtful, and it made me sad to think I’d been ignoring her so much. I was only doing it to protect my own feelings, but I think at that moment I realized that it was hurting her. “Thank you,” I said. “I wish I had some to offer you.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I think I’ve already read all the good ones.”

  We sat looking at each other for a moment. She’d never come into my room and sat on my bed before, and I was wondering exactly what was going on. I hoped she’d get to it soon, because all the love and desire and longing I’d kept bottled up inside me over the past few months was threatening to spill out at the sight of her sitting there like that. “So what’s up?” I prompted.

  She chewed her lower lip almost shyly, and it made me want to gather her up in my arms and hold her. It was so hard being near her and having to be so far away, too. “I wanted to talk to you about a few things.” She looked me in the eyes, appearing almost nervous. “There’s a lot on my mind, and I just wanted to... try and talk things through with you.”

  “You can talk to me about anything, Susan. Any time.”

  She licked her lips. I wanted to lick them, too. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure.”

  “Is this about getting married?”

  She shrugged. “Some of it is. Some of it’s not.” She pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and held her gaze steady. “I have to admit, I’m really nervous about the whole thing. And I want to make sure that you’re still okay with it.”

  “Of course I am.” I really wasn’t sure if I was or not, but I wanted to make her feel better. “What matters is that it’s what you want.”

  “Yeah. But it matters to me what’s right for you, too.”

  “It’s fine with me. I think it’s great.” I was unable to put any enthusiasm in my voice, and she looked at me skeptically. “Really,” I added.

  Surprising me, she reached over and took my hand. She held it in both of hers, and my heart began pounding at the intimacy of her touch. “Amy, when I first met you, you seemed as though you really liked me. I was so excited about that. You made me feel so welcome, and so good, and I honestly believed that you and I were going to be such good friends.”

  “We are,” I tried.

  “We’re not. You seem to distance yourself more and more from me. You hardly even talk to me anymore, except about books. It makes me feel as though I’ve done something wrong, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out what it is.” The sadness in her eyes and in her voice was breaking my heart.

  “You haven’t done anything wrong.” I had to look away from her for a moment.

  “Are you mad at me? Upset with me?”

  “No. Not at all.”

  She squeezed my hand. “Amy, that’s not true.”

  I looked at her again. “It is true. I’ve never been mad at you.”

  “Okay, maybe you’re not mad. But something is definitely wrong. Is it because I’m planning on marrying your father?”

  I had to look away again. “No.”

  “It is, isn’t it? You don’t want me to.”

  “That’s not it.”

  She squeezed my hand again and stroked it with hers. I wanted to hold her so bad I began to tremble. “Then what is? Please, Amy, this has been driving me crazy. I think about you in here every night, wondering why you don’t want to be around me anymore. Why you seem to be resentful toward me.”

  “I’m not resentful!” I hated this. It wasn’t fair to either one of us, but I didn’t know what to do or say about it.

  “If you say you’re not, then I believe you. Looking back, it was your idea to have me move in as soon as possible. So maybe I’m wrong about that part of it. But, Amy, what is it? I was so much looking forward to us being friends. I don’t like it the way it is now.”

  “I don’t either,” I said. There were tears in my voice, and she held my hand tighter.

  “Well let’s change it, then
. What can we do? Please tell me what’s bothering you, and I swear to you, I’ll do anything I can to make things better.”

  I began to cry; It just happened. I tried to hold it back, and failed. There was just no way to tell her the truth, but if I didn’t she’d think I didn’t like her. I couldn’t win.

  She shifted on the bed, moving closer to me and awkwardly putting an arm around me. I loved her for making such a sweet gesture and moved over, so that we were sitting side by side. She pulled me close and kissed my hair, making me cry even more. “Amy, what is it? Please tell me.”

  I tried quickly to come up with some type of lie, but there was just nothing there. Nothing would make sense of my behavior besides the truth, and I couldn’t possibly tell her the truth. Could I? “I can’t.”

  She pulled me even closer, rubbing my back. “You can.”

  “I can’t, Susan. You don’t understand.”

  “I want to understand. It’s no good the way it is. Please tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart.”

  Maybe it was that word. I’m not sure. But something in me broke away and I realized that it would be forever unfair and virtually intolerable for both of us if I continued to keep my feelings a secret. I looked at her, tears streaming down my face. “You... you don’t really want to know.”

  “I do.” She looked at me so earnestly and with such an affectionate expression that I almost melted. “I care about you, Amy. I’m planning to marry your father in a few days. We’re going to be around each other for years and years. I don’t know how to get through to you that you can tell me anything.”

  “But...”

  “Anything, Amy. I like you so much, and I want to like you even more. Please, tell me what’s bothering you. Is it just... you don’t like me?”

  I threw my arms around her and cried even more. She hugged me tight, rocking me back and forth in her arms. She had no idea what was going on. “Please don’t think that I don’t like you,” I moaned. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”

  She kissed my forehead. “What is it, sweetie? Tell me.”

  I tried to force myself to stop crying. It wasn’t doing either of us any good. I sat up, wiping the tears from my eyes. “I...”

  “What? Tell me.”

  “I... I can’t.”

  “Amy, please! How can we make this better if you don’t tell me?”

  “We can’t,” I sobbed.

  “We can. I promise we can.”

  We couldn’t keep going around in circles. I had to spill my guts. I looked at her, tears still streaming down my cheeks. “Susan... I’m...”

  She stroked my back, taking my hand again in hers and holding it. “Tell me.”

  “Susan, I’m gay.”

  She looked startled and more than a little confused by my confession. She frowned. “That’s it? That’s what’s bothering you?”

  There was a lump in my throat, and I fought to swallow past it. When I did, she was still looking into my eyes and waiting. “Not exactly.”

  “Well, what is it? You think I’m not going to like you because of that?”

  I shook my head. “That’s not the problem.”

  “Well, what is?”

  “The problem is...” My breath hitched and I needed a moment to compose myself. Was I really going to tell her? I had to. “Susan...”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m in love with you.”

  I don’t think she was expecting that. She stared at me for a moment, her mouth slightly open. “Love?”

  I nodded, my face scrunching up as more tears spilled down. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry? For what?” She was trying to say the right thing, but it was obvious she was struggling to make sense of things. “Honey, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I know. And neither did you. It’s just... I’m sorry.”

  She slid her hand up and down my arm, trying to console me. “Stop saying that. When you say you’re... in love with me... what does that mean?”

  “It means that I am.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “You know that I’m not...”

  “I know. There’s no solution. It’s just unfortunate.”

  “Amy, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

  “I know.” I squeezed her hand. Now that she knew my secret, I actually felt a little better. “It’s just really hard being around you. You have no idea what it does to me.”

  “God, I feel terrible.”

  “Please don’t. I don’t want you to. I like you so much.” I groaned. “Maybe too much.”

  She rested her head on my shoulder. “Oh, Amy. I never would have guessed. I thought I had done something wrong...”

  “No.” I sniffed, wiping my nose. “I kind of fell in love with you right away. I think about you all the time. But I know... I know that’s wrong, and that’s why I said I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not wrong. It’s just what you feel. And there’s no need to be sorry.”

  “Now you’re going to be really uncomfortable around me, knowing how I feel about you.”

  She lifted her head, looking at me. “No. I’m not.” She ran the back of her hand over my cheek. “I feel love toward you, too, Amy. Just not... the same kind, maybe.”

  I laughed bitterly. “No. I know that already.”

  “God, what are we going to do?”

  “There’s nothing we can do. I just need to get over you.”

  “And that’s why you’ve been avoiding me.”

  “Yes. I’m sorry.”

  “Please stop saying that.” She kissed my cheek, causing my heart to race all over again. “And seeing me with your father probably doesn’t help, either. Oh, hell. It all makes sense to me now.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes, holding each other and coming to grips with this information we now shared. Then she ran her fingers through my hair and cocked her head, so she could see my eyes. “Have you ever had a girlfriend before?”

  “Yes.” I debated whether or not to tell her about Dianne, and decided I should. I really liked Susan a lot, aside from being in love with her, and the idea of talking candidly to her greatly appealed to me. It had been so long since I had a real friend, and like she’d said, we had planned on being friends with each other since the beginning. I began to tell her the story of my summer at the funnel cake stand, and in doing so felt much better, and much closer to her.

  She hugged me very lovingly when I was finished. “Honey, I had no idea you’ve been struggling with this all alone for so long.”

  I nodded. “It actually feels good to tell you about it. It’s like... I don’t know... like I got something off my chest, I guess.”

  “You did. And I want you to know you can tell me anything, whenever you want to. Anything at all.”

  “Thank you, Susan.”

  She kissed me on the forehead again. “You’re welcome.”

  We spent a little while just talking things over after that. She was very nervous about marring my father and wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing. We went over the pros and cons of it, and she said she’d do some deep thinking that night. It was wonderful to sit there on my bed and chat with her about whatever we felt like talking about. She was a real friend now, and I didn’t see anything changing that. I’d never have her as a girlfriend, which I’d already accepted, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to turn my back on her as a friend again.

  When she finally left my room that night, we both felt really good. Our problems were far from solved, but we both knew we had someone to talk to now.

  I didn’t feel nearly as alone anymore.

  Chapter 8

  My father and Susan ended up getting married at the courthouse as scheduled. I attended as a witness, as did one of their mutual friends from work, and then the two of them disappeared for a few days to Niagara Falls. Talk about originality. I figured it was close enough not to require a flight and inexpensive enough not to set my fath
er back too much, so it was a perfect choice for him. Susan and I joked about it before they left, but I didn’t want to joke too much for fear of hurting her feelings. She seemed happy enough with it, and neither of us had ever been there, so who knows. Maybe it really is a nice place.

  When they got back, they didn’t seem any different. They both wore rings now, but that was about it. Life carried on as usual, and the days turned into weeks. If anything really changed during that time, it was that Susan and I became closer. Not in any romantic sense, of course, but as friends. My father was back to sitting in his chair every night, and I would sit with Susan on the couch. We’d talk and watch television together, or sometimes just sit and read quietly. It was very peaceful, and we were very comfortable together.

  I was still in love with her, and doing my best to suppress it. It wasn’t easy, but I managed.

  * * *

  In no time at all, it was summer again. I graduated high school, although not with the best grades in the world. Still, I was done with it and Susan came to my graduation. She was the only one there for me, as my father had to work and was simply too busy to leave early. Maybe next time.

  I ended up getting my job back at the fabric store. It wasn’t really what I wanted, but I was content there, and I was already familiar with everything, including Mrs. Whipple, my boss. She liked me, and we got along just fine. Once she hired me back I stopped applying at other places and just settled in, thinking I’d take it easy for a year or so and save a little money.

  I felt quite a bit happier working for a living. I highly preferred it to high school. There was really no stress, and no one to pick on me every day.

  With Susan’s help, I began applying to colleges. It was a long, slow process, and that was fine with me. I wanted a full year away from school; I needed it.