I should probably start by saying that I never blamed my dad for getting remarried. As a matter of fact, I think I'm the only person who didn't blame him for getting remarried. My brother and sister are both much older than me, and they certainly blamed him, and weren't afraid to show it either. I know our dad loved our mom, and they had a good life together. But when she died, he needed to find someone.
My brother Ron was in his late twenties when mom died, and my sister Kate was in her mid-twenties, so they were both already living their own lives. I was only eight, and dad was sixty-two. I actually appreciate the fact that he wanted to find a new woman to be a mother to me, and a wife to him. I just wish he had made his choice with the mother part a little more in mind. I think if I had been a little older I would have seen through it all a lot clearer, like my siblings obviously did.
It was just me and dad for more than a year, and I could tell he was struggling. So it wasn't a big surprise, even at such a young age, when dad first introduced me to his new girlfriend, Barbara. It didn't seem weird to me, as a twenty-eight-year-old seems pretty darn old to a nine-year-old. In retrospect, I can see why Ron and Kate were both pissed that dad was dating a girl a year younger than Ron. I didn't see any problem with it, however. When you're nine, twenty-eight and sixty-three don't seem all that different. Its all just old people. I was actually excited to have a new mom. I missed my mom very dearly, and I thought that Barbara was going to really replace her. But that isn't quite how it went.
Barbara was actually very nice to me for the year and a half that she and dad dated. I would even say that she was motherly at times in those days. Barbara's daughter Sadie, who is two years older than me, also treated me nicely back then. I loved it. I had a new mom, who cooked and cleaned and helped me with my homework sometimes. And I finally had a sibling close to my age. We used to hang out and watch tv together all the time. All of that changed rather abruptly when they got married.
At first I didn't really understand why Barbara and Sadie were treating me so differently all of a sudden. We had felt like such a happy little family, and then they both got mean. Over the next ten years, it only got worse and worse. Barbara started slow, but the longer she and dad were married, the worse she seemed to treat me. She made my teenage years much harder than they needed to be. I was already a kid who had lost his mother young, and had an elderly father too old to do the job right. She could have been good to me, but she never was.
Sadie was even worse. Looking back, I'm almost certain that Barbara made her be nice to me until they got married. The tonal shift that happened after the wedding was so severe it gave me emotional whiplash. We no longer watched tv together, nor hung out. She was no longer the fun sibling I had always wanted. She became the mean stepsister, and only got worse through the years.
They both treated me like shit for a full decade. They berated me, teased me, belittled me, embarrassed me whenever possible. By fourteen I knew not to bring friends over to my house, even though it was a huge house with a pool and game room and everything else you might want. My friends still wanted to come over, to have fun with all the toys, and maybe get a good look at my stepmom or stepsister, but I knew having anyone over was just asking for trouble.
Barbara had been a very good looking woman from the day dad met her. Even as a little kid I remember thinking that she was a pretty lady. That didn't change as she got older. No matter how mean she was to me, I still understood why dad was with her. Her face was always quite stunning. She has high cheek bones, a thin nose, a strong but slender jaw, striking green eyes with a very sexy tilt to them, plump, nicely curved lips, straight white teeth. She has honey blonde hair that always lookes amazing. She gets it colored once every three weeks, so I don't think that's her real color, but no one ever seems to question it.
All in all, she has always been undeniably beautiful. And then there's her body. She had been in good shape from the beginning, and she only ever seemed to get in better shape. She does yoga and pilates nearly every day, and it shows. I think I was thirteen or fourteen when she got her boobs done. I remember being told she was going to have an operation, and being afraid it was something like mom had. Then she came home one day with giant tits. That was different. They've aged as well as the rest of her. The older I got, the more understanding I was about dad staying with her. And in his defense, she was always a lot nicer to me when he was around. She only showed her true colors when it was just us, or if only Sadie was around.
Sadie, for her part, was a regular chip off the old block. When we were little, she was just a little mean. The older she got, the prettier she got, and the meaner she got. By the time she was eighteen, and finishing up high school, she was as hot as anyone I had ever seen. She had all of her mother's sexy features, the eyes, the nose, the cheekbones, the mouth. She also had the same honey blonde hair, though she also got it colored. I've never seen her working out, but somehow she's in even better shape than her mom. She's twenty-three now, and her tits are even bigger than her mom's fake ones. And Sadie has an ass that her mother has never been able to achieve, despite all her efforts.
For every ounce of natural beauty Sadie possesses, there's three ounces of cold venom. To put it rather bluntly, Sadie is an absolute bitch. If you can think of a mean name, Sadie has called me it. Whatever you consider bullying, Sadie has done it. When she was still bigger than me, she would bully me physically. Once I sprouted, she turned to psychological warfare, and very consistently won the battles she always picked. She even made school hell for me. I don't know what she said, or who she said it to, but somehow every girl I ever talked to seemed to have rather strong opinions about me before they ever got to know me.
Things got a little easier once she graduated, but a lot of the damage had already been done. I knew I wasn't going to get a fair shake until I got to college, and I made sure I would be going to a much better school than she did. It ended up not mattering in the end, as she dropped out after her second semester of her sophomore year. Barbara convinced dad to get Sadie an apartment, rather unfortunately close to our house, and she's spent the last year and a half, "trying to become an actress". In reality she's just a hot chick in LA who doesn't have to work to pay rent. But at least she's out of the house, which is more than I can say for Barbara.
The older I've gotten, the meaner Barbara has gotten to me. When dad started getting sick a few years ago, it only got worse. She would tell me almost daily that I better start looking for a job, because I would be out on my own soon. The fact that I was on full scholarship at UCLA didn't seem to matter to her. In her mind, I was the freeloader, and she and Sadie were entitled to everything my dad provided for them.
When I was younger, I was confused and angry about my real siblings never coming around anymore. But as the years passed, and I saw things for what they were, I understood. The last few times my brother and sister have been in the same room as Barbara, there have been some rather prodigious shouting matches. They were nice to me when they saw me, which was seldom enough, but they both hated Barbara. I agreed with them pretty quickly. But there seemed to be nothing to do about it all. Dad was old, and sick, and no one wanted to give him the lecture he probably needed. But for any faults he might have had, he was always good to me, and he always promised to take care of me, which he did.
When dad died, I think I was the only one who was actually sad. There was a big funeral, with lots of fancy folk in fine attire. People he had worked with, his friends from the country club, some of our neighbors. Even my siblings showed up. I think they came more for me than for dad. And for the will reading of course. During the actual funeral, I was the only person who shed a tear. No one else even seemed interested. But when we were all dragged into a fine office by dad's attorney, all of a sudden there was a great deal of interest. And somehow Barbara's eyes were wet from crying, even though I specifically remember seeing her laughing with a friend during the eulogy.
Anyways, I sat there with everyone else, waiting to hear how the many assets were to be divvied out. I was still just thinking about losing my dad. I didn't expect anything, and I didn't even really want anything. The way I saw it, dad had already given me a great life. His second wife may not have been the nicest to me, but that wasn't his fault. He gave me a great home to grow up in, and an education that got me a great head start in life. He even provided me with a mother figure to care for me, though she didn't always hold up her end of that bargain. When the lawyer started reading the will, I barely listened. I was still crying.
The lawyer began with smaller assets. Some of our extended family got a few things, mostly expensive artwork, or other odd trinkets of value. They seemed well pleased with what dad left them. Ron got dad's old Cadillac, which he seemed quite content with. By that time Ron was forty-one, with a wife and three kids. I hadn't seen my niece and nephews in almost four years. My niece Amber had turned eighteen a few months earlier, and I was a little shocked at how much she had grown up.
Kate was given all of our mother's old jewelry. She also seemed content with that. She was thirty-seven, also married, and had two young kids of her own. Before the funeral had begun, she had taken me aside, and given me a proper hug, and told me I was always welcome at their house in Rhode Island. In fact, both her and Ron told me they wanted to see more of me now that dad wasn't around. I wasn't quite sure how to take that, but I thanked them both and agreed.
The items were read off one by one, someone getting this, another getting that. Everyone seemed to be quite pleased with it all. I was starting to get pretty mad. Everyone else was treating this like some kind of grand giveaway party, instead of my dad's funeral. Barbara herself was dressed in a stunning black dress that I would not have guessed a widow would wear to her husband's funeral. She also had on big black designer glasses, which hid her eyes, giving her the cover she needed to pretend she had cried. Sadie wasn't even there, which I didn't mind.
"Now then, for the bulk of the estate," the lawyer said seriously. Everyone fell silent, and Barbara sat forward, looking like she was about to win the lottery. "The house, grounds, cars, and all unspecified remaining assets, currently residing at 341 Grant St., shall be left to my son Jack."
