14. Sarah
14
SARAH
Two weeks ago, I found out that I not only have a stepbrother that I wasn't aware of all my life but I also have a stepsister.
Her name is Lauren, and she's a few years younger than me.
Peter is only a year younger, so it means my asshole of a father had his eyes outside my mother before he eventually got tired and left.
It was a terrible thing to realize, and with it comes a more terrible feeling of hurt, but that’s just the tip of the iceberg.
I would eventually find out from Peter that the only reason Neville came looking for me was because both he and his sister Lauren weren't a match.
Talk about being punched in the gut.
I was broken. I felt manipulated and deceived.
But I couldn't back down at that point. Not when I'd already given my word, so I had no choice but to remain seated while Peter continued to drone about how amazing our father is and how glad he was to finally meet me.
I wish I could tell him the feeling was mutual, but I don't make a habit of lying, so I just held my tongue and let him speak.
Afterward, he offered to escort me home, to which I immediately said no. I'm polite, not stupid.
If he was offended, he didn't show it.
The days pass by quickly, but I am still unable to write or sleep properly. I try my best to sleep, when necessary, but I don't force myself to write, knowing it won’t do me any good.
A week ahead of surgery, I get a flight schedule from Peter, who against my many protests paid for my tickets.
From his end, I can see efforts to bond with me, but I'm just not there yet. I don't think I'll ever be.
It's not like I have anything against him or his sister in particular, but I just think it's too late to be trying to get to know each other now.
A couple of days ahead of the surgery, I fly down to New Jersey where I am welcomed at the airport by Peter and Lauren, who share almost the same look as me except for the hair.
Her arms are around me as soon as Peter introduces us, an excited squeal leaving her mouth.
“Oh my God, I'm so excited to finally meet you. Peter wouldn't share your number with me. Goodness, you look so beautiful in person.”
I am overwhelmed, but I manage to force a smile.
“You look beautiful, too.” This, I do mean.
She's beautiful.
We have almost the same body shape, curvy in the right places, and we share the same eye color. It's gray, just like our father. Peter has the same eyes, too.
While my hair is red, something I get from my mother, theirs is black. Our father has black hair, too.
Her height towers over mine. Peter has legs on him, too. They probably got their height from their mother.
I've been thinking so much about her lately. What does she look like?
If she's still in their lives?
If she was the reason my father left my mom?
If she was more beautiful than my mom?
This last part I struggle with. My mother was hands down one of the most beautiful women I've met. She had the kind of beauty anyone would try to get a second look at, irrelevant of their gender.
“Oh, thank you. I think I get that from you. Dad would always ramble about how I look like you. It makes me uncomfortable at times,” she says, scrunching her nose.
Peter gives her a chastising look and she immediately switches the topic before I can ask the question in my mind.
Will I be meeting their mother at the hospital, too?
“So how was your flight?” she asks as Peter grabs my small traveling bag from my hand and motions for me to follow him.
“It was good, I guess.”
She doesn't try to force any conversation after that.
Peter leads us to where he parked his truck. It's relatively new and looks expensive, too. Whatever job he has, he must be doing well.
The ride to my hotel room is awkward as hell, but it doesn't beat the two of them following me inside the room after I get it.
It's on the tip of my tongue to tell them to back the fuck off and give me space, but I don't want to offend them.
I try to rationalize their actions based on the fact that they must just be overwhelmed with gratitude. They probably didn't expect that I'd agree to save him. I think Peter said that much.
After twenty minutes of awkward silence, Peter opts to leave but not before telling Lauren to not stress me too much.
To me, it’s a hint for her to leave me the hell alone, but of course, she just can't read the room.
I order room service, asking her what she'd like to eat. She comfortably lists out her order and then starts to chat my ear off while we wait for the food.
The food comes, and we eat in silence. Immediately, when we're done, she picks up right where she left off.
And you'd think she'd at least have the common sense to talk about something I'd find interesting, but she doesn't. Instead, she makes me sit through hours on end about Peter and her childhood experience with their parents, all in a ploy to get me to like the man.
Here's the thing, though: the man she described as her father is not the same as the one I had as a father, and there's no consistency in her story. Neville left my mom when I was seventeen. I should be older than her by at most, five years. So, for the first twelve years of her life, he wasn't there.
He was with me and my mom, and he barely had time for us then.
What's with the over-the-top stories about all the fun she had as a child?
The only plausible explanation I can find is that most of the things she's saying are made up. And let's say they aren't. Why bore me to death with them?
When it looks like she will never stop, I take matters into my own hands and inform her that I need to get some rest.
Saying I miss the disappointed look on her face would be a lie, but I pretend not to see it.
She gives me a hug before she leaves, and I immediately lock the door behind her, scared that she'll come back with the excuse of forgetting something and refuse to leave this time around.
Finally alone, I take a bath, soaking myself long enough for all my muscles to relax and my eyes drop from sleep.
I crawl into bed not long after that, and I have the best sleep for the first time in weeks.
The next time I wake up, it's to a call from Amanda.
One glance at my phone screen tells me I've been asleep for more than twelve hours.
Damn. That's a long time. I do feel good, though.
“Hey.”
“Why am I hearing through the news that you're in my city?”
“What?”
I shoot straight up in my bed and rest my back against the headboard, my brain not entirely clear from sleep.
“Oh, you've not seen the news yet?”
Something about her tone tells me that I should be alarmed, but I'm too relaxed to do anything otherwise.
“No. What's going on?”
“Nothing you should probably worry yourself about. So, when did you get here?”
“Last night. I had plans to call you later today so we can get the tests done. The surgery is in a few days’ time.”
“Oh, okay. That sounds good. What time do you think you can come in? It's normal procedure for tests to be done before the surgery, so the surgeon scheduled for his case may be around, too. You can come with anyone you want for moral support.”
“Nah, I'm here alone. Well, except for my siblings who I'm certain will be at the hospital tomorrow.”
“You have siblings now? Who are you, and what have you done with my friend Sarah's life?”
I laugh at her words. I'm still trying to catch up with the whole thing myself.
“How are you holding up?” she asks, her voice concerned now.
I sigh and drag a pillow with my legs. When it's close to me, I put it behind my back, and let myself slide down the bed until I'm comfortably rested on the pillow.
“I'm as good as anyone who just recently found out they have a dying father and two grown-up siblings can be.”
I picture her shaking her head as I speak, a pity look coming over her face. Maybe I shouldn't be talking about this with her or anyone else. I don't need to bore them with my issues.
“I should probably let you get back to work,” I say, cutting off whatever sympathetic speech she's planning to give me.
“I'm actually at home, but it's fine. I should let you get settled in, too. Just know that I am here if you ever need to talk to someone, alright?”
“Sure, thanks, Mandy.”
“It's alright. See you tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
“Great, I can't wait to see you. I wish it was under a different circumstance but still…”
“I know, I'm excited to see you, too,” I assure her. It's been years since we last saw each other.
When she ends the call, I put my phone down, but the way it immediately starts to buzz with messages has me picking it back up.
I unlock the phone, wondering what the hell is going on only to find out… No.
Someone leaked it that I'm helping Neville.
Who would do that?
I haven’t even told anyone about this except Mandy, and she certainly wouldn't do this to me. She probably called because she found out about this on the news. Oh yeah, she did mention it. I was just too disoriented from sleep to understand.
Crap.
If there's one thing I hate more than spiders, it's the media. I hate how they take a very simple situation and spin it into different webs of lies.
This is why I've done my best to keep my life private. For years, they didn't have any information on me except what I chose to share. Until now.
Someone did this.
My mind immediately goes to Lauren, but I try to brush it off. She can't be that bad. What would she gain by doing it, anyway?
Nothing. Now that almost the whole world knows I'm trying to help my father, it'll just bring unnecessary attention to the whole situation.
But what if that was the aim?
What if this was indeed Lauren’s doing, and she did this so I wouldn't be able to back out now that it's out there in the open?
Damn, all the fiction I've been writing must finally be getting the best of me.
It makes no sense that Lauren or anyone would try to manipulate me into this. And the media isn't even painting me in a bad light.
Thank God for that. I still would very much like it if they never found out.
There's no saying for sure who did this, but my mind keeps pointing toward Lauren.
Before I can drive myself mad with speculations, my phone starts to ring, and this time it's Ian calling.
Guess he saw the news, too.
Great.