My dad remarried last year, and I hate his new wife. She doesn’t see me as her own daughter, and I get that because I’m really not. But what I don’t understand is why she sees me as some sort of competition. To make things worse, she keeps calling me the wrong name even after correcting her. When the opportunity came, I decided to teach her a lesson that caused her embarrassment.
This past year has certainly put my patience to the test. Ever since my dad remarried Carla, she has been annoying me with her snide comments and calling me the wrong name.
My name is Jessica, but she calls me by my second name, Eunice, which I hate. There’s a peculiar dynamic at play, mainly because Carla has a daughter named Jessica. But unlike what you might expect, we get along incredibly well. We’ve become like real sisters, sharing everything from clothes to secrets, which seems to confuse Carla.
Carla’s not subtle about her favoritism. She’s always arranging little outings for my stepsister and Dad, almost as if she’s trying to craft her perfect little family tableau with me as the outsider. But what really grates on me is how she insists on calling me by my second name.
My father laughed, and we walked to the football field with the baked goods. We set up everything, waiting for Bake Day to begin so that we could sell our cupcakes and head out.
And then, Tanya and her twin girls, Allie and Avery, showed up, setting their containers of brownies next to mine.
“Oh, no!” Tanya shrieked, almost dropping a container as she tripped on a tablecloth, causing my father to rush to her rescue.
He caught the container, set it right, and helped unhook the piece of tablecloth that had caught on Tanya’s shoe.
That was the beginning of the end.
My father and Tanya exchanged numbers, and by the end of the fundraiser, they had made plans to meet for dinner the following week.
Two years later, they were married—with Allie, Avery, and I as bridesmaids.
And for once, I learned what it was like to have a mother.
At first, things were fine—Tanya did the necessary things for me.
“Just be careful,” my grandmother told me. “She’s just being nice because your father married her. Wait until the dust settles. But for your sake, my darling, I hope she’s everything you need her to be.”
It was as if Gran’s words had conjured the nasty side of Tanya. She went from being caring to losing the plot with me. I began to see the difference in how she treated me compared to the way she treated the twins.
“Don’t worry about it,” my father said when we went for a run together—recently, his cholesterol had been absolutely high, and as per doctor’s orders, he had to start living a healthy life.
“It’s not the fact that the twins are getting new things,” I said. “It’s the fact that she doesn’t even try to make me feel like I deserve them, either.”
“It’s been Tanya and the girls for a long time, love,” my father said, stopping to catch his breath. “They only know each other.”
We walked back home, and my father told me that despite the way I felt, he would always be there for me.
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