It occurs to me that I haven’t reallylookedat my stepmother in so long. It makes me feel a little bad. Sure, I’d rather be anywhere but here right now, but it’s not because I dislike Francine. We had our moments when I was a teenager, but there’s no real bad blood between us. In fact, she often plays the role of the peacemaker when Dad and I bicker.
Gazing at me, she blows on her coffee. “So, what’s new?”
I’m silent for several moments, unsure how to answer. But there’s a small voice inside of me, urging me to confide in her. I don’t know why. I trust Francine, but we’re not close. Still, she’s always made an effort to be a good stepmother to me. But . . . in the back of my mind, I had always secretly hoped Mom would come home, and that she and Dad might get back together.
A silly fantasy in hindsight.
Even sillier? I didn’t want Mom to think I had replaced her, so I held Francine at arm’s length.
Brandon might have been onto something when he said I push people away to protect myself. To avoid confronting pain. And maybe,just maybe, that bad habit is keeping me from fostering a healthy relationship with Francine.
“Oh, you know. Not much . . .”
Francine gazes at me so intensely, her gray eyes full of hope and expectation. She wants to chat so badly.
I just don’t know if I have it in me to open up to her.
She cradles her coffee closer. “Evie, you know you can talk to me about anything, right? I know you don’t get along with your father, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. I’m here if you want to talk. I can keep a secret. You know that.” She winks.
Her teasing breaks the tension, and I laugh. She never did tell my dad about how she found me reading those erotic romance books as a kid. She confiscated them and kept that information to herself, and for that, I’m glad.
“Your father might be a jerk sometimes, but he cares about you so much, Evie. We both do.”
Taken aback by her comment, I snort. Ugh. The least I could do is talk to her just this once. “There is one thing, actually . . .” I hesitate. “It’s complicated,” I say as a disclaimer. “But it would be nice to get an outside perspective.”
She sits tall. “Lay it on me.”
I laugh again. She’s so eager, like a dog bouncing on its hind legs, desperate for a treat. “It’s . . .” I look toward the living room. “It’s about Brandon.”
“Jamie’s friend?” I nod. “What about him?”
I turn my saucer around. “We have a little bit of . . . history. A couple of years ago, we—um, well . . .” My face heats. It’s safe to say I didn’t expect to start out the conversation with this information.
“You . . . ?”
“Well, we . . . you know . . .” I search her expression for a glimmer of understanding, but she continues to stare at me cluelessly. I sigh, exasperated but mostly embarrassed. She’s going to make me say it. “We hooked up, Francine. Webanged.”
Her chin jerks back. “Oh.Oh my.”
I laugh at her weirdly innocent reaction. “Yeah. So. That happened. And then . . .”
She waits.
“Well, that was that. It was over. And now, he wants to rekindle that old flame.” He hasn’t said it in so many words, per se, but the way he was talking to me last night . . . He left no room for interpretation about the fact that he plans on pursuing me until I’m ready to trust him again. “And Iwant that, too. But I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I know he regrets what happened, and he’s been on his best behavior lately.” I roll my eyes fondly, recalling how we almost had sex last night—only for him to come in clutch with the whole abstinence before marriage thing. “But . . . he really hurt me last time.”
I’m surprised by how easy it is to confide in Francine. She’s listening so intently, as if every word I’m saying is the most important thing she’s ever heard.
It’s . . . nice.
“He’s changed a lot in the last few years, hasn’t he?” she asks. “I know he’s been serving at the church, and he goes to Maggie’s Bible study every Wednesday. Did you know that?”
“I did, actually.”
“But you still don’t trust him?”
“It’s not that I don’t trust him,” I hedge. “I’m just nervous that hethinksI’m what he wants. But what if he changes his mind?” I trace the rim of my tea cup. “Do you think it would be stupid of me to give him another chance?”
She taps her ring finger against her saucer. “Taking a chance on love doesn’t make someone stupid. It makes them brave, if you ask me. Plus, Brandon is aman of God now. And usually, a godly man only pursues a woman if he intends on marrying her.”
