Stepbrother Soldier: A Forbidden Military Romance Novel (21 page)

The End

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Stepbrother's Arrogance

1

I stood behind my mother, gently playing with her hair underneath the
long, lace train. We were standing in front of the mirror in the church’s
sacristy. Outside the doors, we could hear loud chatter and the distant, booming
sound of the organ playing a classical tune. My mother looked beautiful in her
white, flowing gown. Her make-up was perfect; so was her hair. But what made
her look really, truly beautiful was the smile on her face. The smile made her
seem like she was glowing all over. It was the smile of a woman who was happier
than she’d ever been in her life.

“Oh, Elizabeth, today is…it’s just so perfect,”
she said, and I could see her eyes growing watery.

“Mom! No crying! You’ll ruin your make-up!” I said in mock
frustration. I smiled back at her in the mirror, feeling my own eyes well up.
It’d been a long time since I saw my mother so happy, and I knew how much she
deserved to be.

It had just been me and Mom for most of my life. My dad split when I
was just two, and my mother had worked two or three jobs while I was growing up
in order to support us. She’d had a long, hard 18 years of motherhood, and as
much as I’d tried to make it easy on her by being a good kid, there were times
when I knew I’d made it harder.

Like the time I’d followed my dumb friends’ plan to break into the
public pool after dark. Or the time I’d gone to my very first party and came
home reeking of beer and throwing up in the bushes. Or the time I nearly
flunked chemistry. Or the time I stole lip gloss just to see what it would feel
like to steal something.

I really had been a good kid, don’t get me wrong, but, like all kids,
there were just times when I’d screwed up. But mom had always handled it well
and forgiven me in the end. She was my best friend, my confidante, never too
tired after pulling a late shift to split a slice of cake and listen to me cry
about whatever drama was going on in my life. I loved my mother, and when she’d
come home two years ago after a date looking like she was on cloud nine, I knew
that she deserved every inch of happiness that was to come.

That date was, of course, with my soon-to-be stepfather, Mark. He was
a good man, too. And, though it may sound uncouth, he was also a very rich man.
It was like a fairy tale, almost. He had stopped into the diner where my mother
waited tables and been taken aback by her. He asked her out by leaving a note
on his receipt.

I remember her telling me, starry-eyed, how she had planned to ignore
it, but that he wouldn’t leave her mind until she braved up and called him. It
was only when he picked her up in his Mercedes and took her to the nicest
restaurant in town that she realized that he had money. But it wasn’t his money
that Mom fell in love with. It was him. And I could see why: he was handsome,
successful, assertive but gentle, funny, kind, generous…pretty much perfect in
every way.

In the two years they’d been dating, I’d grown to love him, too, as a
father. He was always so sweet to me, remembering my favorite chocolates and
bringing them over every once in a while before taking my mother out. Helping
me with school projects. Hanging out and being goofy while watching TV. He was
just the sort of man that I would have picked out for my mother myself, and on
their wedding day I really, truly felt like I was gaining a father.

I looked at myself in the mirror, over my mother’s shoulder, and made
some adjustments to the tight green dress I was wearing. I’d been surprised
when Mom came home with her bridesmaid’s dresses and I’d seen how…un-frumpy
they were. Mom never exactly had an eye for fashion, and we were both fairly
modest. The dresses she’d chosen for the day were fairly short, ending right at
the knee, and form-fitting. It showed off my newly-developed body, from my
round, tight waist to my perky, bubbly B-cup breasts.

“Geeze, Mom, are you sure you want me to wear
this?” I’d asked, doubtful, when I tried it on.

“You’re 18 now, Elizabeth. You’re about to go off to college. It’s
okay for you to be a little bit of a show-off. I want everyone to see the
beautiful girl that my little baby has grown up to be,” she’d said, holding me
by my shoulders while we both admired my reflection. “Besides, your new
step-brother might have some cute friends!”

“Mom!” I’d said, laughing. I knew she was just kidding, but now that I
was looking at myself again, I did kind of wonder if there would be any
nice-looking guys at the wedding. I wasn’t interested in finding a boyfriend,
or even hooking up with anyone, but it would be nice for someone to appreciate
how good I looked.

This was all fairly new for me. I was a virgin at the time, had never
even had a serious boyfriend before. And, like I said, Mom and I were both
pretty modest: I’d never been the type for heels or mini-skirts and felt much
more comfortable in old jeans and a T-shirt. But, as my mother always said,
there’s a first time for everything. Now that I was due off to college at the
end of the summer, I felt like maybe it was time to step out of my shell a
little bit.

I was excited to meet my new stepbrother. Somehow, in the two years
that Mom and Mark had dated, I’d never got to meet him. He lived a few states
away and his schedule never seemed to allow him to come visit. He was a college
professor, which I would have thought gave him a lot of time to visit, but he
seemed to prefer to spend his college breaks and summer vacations travelling to
exotic places like Thailand and Nepal.

I figured that Jay, my stepbrother, couldn’t be too different from
Mark, so I was looking forward to getting to know him. He’d come down for the
wedding and would be staying most of the summer, living in Mark’s guest house.
I had my own bedroom in Mark’s house, had spent the past month slowly
decorating and moving in until it felt like home.

It was weird, for me, to be moving into such a big house: my mother’s
house was more like Mark’s guest house than his actual house. When I’d first
seen our new home, I’d wondered why a fully-grown bachelor with an adult son
would need so much space, so many rooms. But I wasn’t complaining, either.

Jay was in his mid-twenties, very young for a college professor. He
taught English literature and creative writing at an expensive private school.
From what I’d heard, he was very smart, and very intense. He’d plowed through
undergrad and then grad school, taking no time off in between, making top
honors in both. As soon as he’d finished his MFA, he’d entered a doctoral
program and gotten a job teaching. I was looking forward to picking his brain
about college and everything that came with it.

Just as I was musing about my first meeting with the mysterious Jay,
we heard the conversation outside hush and “Here Comes
The
Bride” begin to play. My own stomach flipped, so I couldn’t imagine how Mom
felt. She turned to me and took my face in her hands.

“I’m so happy, Elizabeth. I love you so much, and I want to thank you
for being happy for me, too,” she said, her eyes tearing up again.

“I love you too, Mom. I’ll always want nothing but happiness for you,”
I said back, sniffling a little bit. We hugged for a moment but I broke away.
“Now, go out there and get hitched!”

2

I got my first glimpse of Jay as I was walking my mother down the
aisle. My grandfather had died some years before, so the responsibility of
walking the bride to the altar fell on me. As we stepped down the long carpet
in time to the song, I scanned the crowd at the altar, trying to pick out Jay.
Mark was almost
laughing,
he was smiling so hard I
thought his face was going to break in two.

As we got closer, I finally pinpointed Jay. I would say I was
disappointed, but to tell the truth I was so wrapped up in the romance and
happiness that nothing could have made me feel anything but bliss. But if
anything could have ruined my mood, it would have been Jay’s face. He didn’t
look as happy as his father. He didn’t even look as happy as the other men in
the groom’s party. In fact, he looked downright angry. His face was a dark
cloud.

I should say that his
handsome
face
was a dark cloud. Even under his gloomy expression, Jay was far better-looking
than any of the pictures of him I’d seen in Mark’s house. He was tan, with dark
eyes and longish hair that looked windswept. His features looked like they’d
been sculpted in marble, and I could tell from the well-tailored suit that he
wore that the rest of him probably looked much the same.

As I took my place on the opposite side of the altar, I tried to catch
his eye and smile at him.
Maybe that’s
just what his face looks like,
I thought to myself, trying to figure out
why he looked so angry on such a happy occasion. He avoided my eyes, though,
and I pushed it to the back of my mind as the ceremony began.

It all went perfectly, beautifully, like a dream. They had written
their own vows and I loved hearing the catch in Mark’s voice as he talked about
how lucky he was to have met Mom. They said their “I do’s” through giggles, and
their first kiss was perfect. I felt like my heart was going to explode with
happiness. We threw rice and watched as Mark and Mom piled into a limo and sped
off into newlywedded bliss.

As I walked around, chatting with the guests and helping them with
directions to the reception, I tried to keep an eye out for Jay, wanting to
finally introduce myself. He seemed to be MIA. Eventually, I gave up and headed
for the reception myself.

The reception was just as beautiful as the ceremony, but a lot more
fun! Mom even let me have a couple glasses of wine, which led me straight to
the dance floor, busting moves with my cousins until I almost fell over with
laughter. Mark and I had our own special dance to signify our new relationship
as father and daughter, and Mom and I had a dance together as well.

The whole time, I kept wondering where Jay was. I would occasionally
catch a glimpse of him standing against the wall, drink in hand, but he never
came out onto the dance floor and there weren’t any special dances between him
and my mother.

Maybe he’s just jealous,
I thought to myself at one point, and tried to be
sympathetic. I’d taken to the whole situation very well, but I knew that Mark
was a widower, not someone who’d been abandoned. And Jay’s mother had died when
he was in his early teens, so he actually remembered her. Maybe Jay just didn’t
like the idea of his dad re-marrying.

Finally, it came time for dinner and toasts, which meant that Jay and
I were sitting at the same table. At last, I had a chance to meet him.

“Hi, I’m Elizabeth! I’m so happy to finally meet you!” I said when we
were at last close enough to speak. I pushed my hand out enthusiastically. The
wine was making me do
everything
pretty
enthusiastically.

“Jay,” was all he said, taking my hand in a limp grip. Then, he sat
down. Slightly confused, I joined him, taking the seat next to his.

“Wasn’t that a beautiful ceremony? And oh my god, this is, like, so
much fun! I’ve never been to a wedding before,” I gushed, trying to perk him
up. He didn’t look at me, just adjusted his napkin on his lap. I bit my lip and
wondered how to approach him.

“You
know,
I really do love your dad. He’s
been very good to us, and I just want you to know, I really really care about
him. I’m really happy we’re family now,” I said, trying to sound
more sober
. After all, Jay was kind of a big-time writer, so
he was probably pretty serious. My girlish giggles weren’t going to impress him
much.

“I bet you are. You and your mother,” he said, still not looking at
me. His voice sounded derogatory. I felt myself getting defensive, despite my
desire for everything to go well.

“Um, I mean, yeah, she’s really happy too, cause, like, you know, she
loves him,” I said back, aware of the slight annoyance in my voice. I paused
for a moment before continuing, in a gentler tone. “She really deserves it, you
know. She had the toughest time raising me by herself, no time to date. Mark
really changed everything. She’s so happy now, it’s like a dream come true!”

“Isn’t it, though? Isn’t it every woman’s dream come true? Marry a
rich guy so you don’t have to work anymore?” He spat back, finally looking me
in the eye. The only word that can accurately describe the way he was speaking
would be “hateful.” I was taken aback entirely.

“It’s not about the money,” I blurted out without
even thinking. “She just loves him.”

Jay scoffed and rolled his eyes, then turned away
again, taking a deep sip of his drink.

“No, really, she’s totally head over heels for him,” I said again,
persisting. I didn’t want Jay to have the wrong idea about me or Mom, and to be
honest I was kind of offended that he’d assume the worst.

“And I guess you suddenly having all the tuition money you need to get
through beauty school is just a coincidence?” Jay said, shooting me another
dirty look. That was it. I was done. The wine had already gone to my head and
now it was telling me that Jay was no good.

“Excuse me, but I happen to have a full ride to college. I earned that
in high school. And it’s not beauty school. I’m going to be an archeologist,” I
said primly, spreading my napkin across my lap.

“Oh, a full ride to a public university?
However
did you manage
that
?” Jay said
snidely. I shot him a dirty look of my own, then decided that if he wanted to
be miserable, it was
his
business. I
wasn’t going to let anything ruin this perfect night, not even a grouchy,
miserable, disappointing stepbrother. I rose from my seat in a huff and stalked
over to the other side of the table, taking a seat next to my aunt.

I fussed and fumed for a little while, but after sneaking a few more
sips of wine from my cousin I felt myself letting go and forgetting all about Jay.
I’d prepared a speech and focused on quieting the butterflies in my stomach
long enough to deliver it. I managed okay, though I’m sure I slurred on more
than a few words. Mom had tears in her eyes again when I sat down, and she
rushed over to my seat to envelope me in a big hug. Mark, too, looked proud and
elated. It was a perfect night. Well, almost.

As the reception wound down and people began to pile into cars and
cabs, the immediate family and friends loitered in the emptying ballroom to
have a nightcap and revel in the good feelings. Jay was nowhere in sight. I’d
managed to forget just about everything about him until Mark pulled me aside.

“I wanted to see…well, I saw you and Jay talking. I know Jay can be
very…um…up-front. He doesn’t mince words. And I know he’s had his reservations
about me re-marrying. He seems worried that I don’t have good judgment,” Mark
said. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was concerned, and I didn’t
want to ruin his big day by telling him that my first conversation with Jay had
been so awful.

“Oh, it was fine, really. He was perfectly polite in every way,” I
lied, hoping that I wouldn’t betray myself. I’ve never been a good liar. But
Mark’s eyes lit up and he seemed overjoyed at my response. He brought me into a
big bear-hug and I closed my eyes, savoring the sweet moment between me and my
new stepfather.

“I’m so happy to have you as a part of my family, Elizabeth,” Mark
said, pulling away and looking at me with sincerity. I felt my eyes welling up
again and nodded. I
was
happy to be
part of Mark’s family. I just hoped that the rest of Mark’s family would
someday feel the same about me…