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It’s a nice little home, and I’m grateful to Steve, my stepdad, for taking us in because before my mom married my stepdad, we were getting by, but only by the skin of our teeth. I ate the school’s free lunch every day, and each fall, we had to scrimp and save for school supplies. Plus, a lot of my friends had tons of extracurriculars like piano and soccer, but I always came straight home after classes. My mom never had money for that kind of stuff because she was a clerk at the local Stop n’ Save, making just a tad over minimum wage. But it’s okay. I never wanted for anything, and so what if the lights got turned off on occasion? Sandra always got them turned back on, and it’s not like we ever went hungry.
But our material life improved after Sandra married Steve. My stepdad has his own accounting firm, and I think he’s reasonably successful. He has a stable roster of clients, and occasionally lectures on developing topics in his field. Even better, we moved in with Steve straight after the wedding, and I got my own bedroom. I settled into a comfortable middle-class lifestyle like a fish taking to water, and made friends at my new school without really ever thinking about what it cost my mom.
I only say this because Steve, while being decent, isn’t exactly the handsome Prince Charming type. I get that billionaires look like Jeff Bezos, and not Brad Pitt, but Steve is just blah. He’s got thinning brown hair and a paunch that his dress shirts strain to cover. It’s not sexy, and it’s especially gross when you can see his man boobs wobbling beneath the fabric.
Plus, Steve’s just weird sometimes. He likes eating tuna straight from the tin so that the entire house stinks of fish, and collects Cabbage Patch dolls. What mid-forties man does that? Regardless, as I stroll into the living room, there are the dolls, lined up on the couch with their plastic smiling faces. Ugh. I didn’t even like Cabbage Patch dolls as a child, so why does he?
Nonetheless, Steve’s a successful accountant, and I was able to enjoy my teen years in part because of the material comforts he provided. So what if my mom continued to work at the Stop n’ Save after her marriage? Her salary as a clerk couldn’t have been much, but I get it. Sandra believes that a woman should always have her own money, and continued to adhere to that adage even after the wedding.
But now, I plop down on the couch amid the mass of Cabbage Patch dolls. A particularly ugly one with hair like ratted silk and a blue gingham dress stares at me, and I look away with a sigh. Why are these dolls so eerie? They’re supposed to be cute, but they just freak me out.
But then, I hear weird sounds. My ears perk up because someone’s upstairs, and making a racket. What the hell? Sometimes Steve works from home, but his office on the first floor is empty and dark. So who could it be?
“Steve?” I called, getting up and slowly ascending the stairs. “It’s Kimber. I thought I’d come home for the weekend.”
The only sound is a deep ‘nnnnngh’ from one the bedrooms. Huh? What the hell was that?
I tiptoe down the hallway, unsure if I should even be doing this. After all, maybe my mom and stepdad are engaging in illicit afternoon sex. Maybe now that I’ve moved out, they take Friday afternoons off to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh.
My feet literally come to a standstill at that thought, as vomit rises in my throat. Eew. That’s so gross. I almost turn around to go back downstairs again, but then I realize that the sounds are coming from my childhood bedroom. What the hell? That throws me for a loop because why would Sandra and Steve make love on my tiny twin bed? That doesn’t sound pleasant at all, but another deep unnnngh hits my ears, and I realize it’s a possibility. Wow. Just wow.
Ever so slowly, I tiptoe further down the hall. I know I should stop because the visual of two saggy forty-year-olds tumbling around naked is gross, but it’s curiosity that killed the cat, right? Silently, I step in front of my room and peer through a crack in the bedroom door, which has been left slightly ajar.
It’s then that I get the shock of my life because Sandra’s not there. Instead, it’s just my stepdad, Steve, and he’s masturbating up a storm. The middle-aged man has his shirt unbuttoned, showing off the white mountain that’s his belly, and his pants are unbuttoned as he sits on my twin bed. He’s got his head flung back and eyes closed as he runs his hand up and down over his shaft, but that’s not the worst part. With horror, I realize that he’s got a pair of my panties in his hand, and that he’s using them to jerk himself off!
