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?