My Adopted Brother Wants Me Too

“I want you to be on your best behavior tonight, Daisy.” Lorraine, my adopted mother, tells me as she curls my hair.

I sigh, trying very hard not to roll my eyes at the use of her name for me. Mom adopted me when I was eight years old, I know my name is not Daisy. My name is Savannah. I also know she only named me that because it is her second favorite flower. Azalea is her favorite flower and the name of her real daughter. The daughter that went missing around age five.

“I know Mom.” I say, using an emotionless tone.

“Tonight is your eighteenth birthday. I want you to act like an adult.” Mom says, giving me a stern look through the mirror.

In my head I am screaming ‘I am already twenty years old and it’s not even my fucking birthday! My birthday is in October, not June.’ I don’t say that though. I don’t want to piss her off. She is in a semi good mood today, although I know it’s all an act. Azalea’s birthday is the worst day of the year. Mom tries to act like everything is normal, but if even one slight detail is wrong, she loses it. Last year the caterers forgot to bring forks and Mom lost it. Like we didn't have forks here at the house we could use. Dad had to cut the party short because she got so drunk she couldn’t even stand up straight.

So, even when I really don’t want to, I try to cooperate. I try to be the daughter she wished was still here, not the daughter she got stuck with as a substitute. It doesn’t always help, even when I do everything she asks of me, I am still not good enough. Which Mom and Dad make very clear on a daily basis, every time they compare me to the amazing person they think Azalea would have turned out to be.

“Don’t worry, Mom. I will be on my best behavior.” I say, as she finishes my hair, coming to stand in front of me.

“You look beautiful.” She says, giving me a soft smile and catching me completely by surprise with her compliment. Mom makes a face a couple of seconds later and I realize I spoke too soon. “You really need to die your hair again. Your roots are showing. It looks trashy.”

There it is. The usual insults. My hair is naturally brown. Azalea had blonde hair. Aside from that, we look a lot alike from what I could tell in our younger pictures. So, for as long as I can remember, Mom would always take me to the salon and have my hair dyed. I used to think it was nice. You know, mother-daughter time. A way to bond. Really it was just her way of making me more like the daughter she lost.

“Sorry Mom, I will make an appointment at the salon on Monday.” I say, faking an apology. The truth is, I am tired of dying my hair, but the more I complain about it the more hateful she becomes towards me. Dad isn’t much help. Sometimes he is even worse. His abuse occurs less often but is more on the physical side than the verbal side like Mom’s. So, I just try to stay to myself as much as I can. I stay out of the way and do what they ask of me.

Mom nods her head. “Good. I am going to get ready. The party starts in an hour. I expect you to be downstairs, greeting your guests.”

“Okay.” I say, as I walk over to my closet to grab the dress Mom picked out for me. Before she can leave the room, I turn and look at her. “Hey, Mom?” I ask.

Mom sighs. “What is it?” She asks, sounding irritated.

“Is Jacob going to be here tonight?” I ask, hoping he will be. Jacob is my older brother, not by blood, but he is the only person in this family that has ever cared about me. He knows tonight isn’t my actual birthday. So, I doubt he will actually show up. I just like having him here, especially at events like this. It makes me feel like I have an ally.

Mom shakes her head. “No.” She says, not saying anything else or giving any kind of explanation as she turns and walks out of my room.

I frown. That’s what I thought. Oh well, I’m sure he is busy. Being the CEO of the family business is a very time-consuming job. He doesn't have time for silly parties.

I put on the skintight black dress and matching black heels that Mom picked for me and head downstairs. The party will be starting soon. It’s just going to be a bunch of rich, old, business associates and potential future husbands for me. Sons of billionaires that will only raise my family’s status if I were to marry them. No one I actually want to see.

The first half of the party is smooth, and I start to think for once we might actually make it through a birthday with no drama. Up until my mother’s annual birthday speech that is.

Mom clinks a knife against her wine glass a few times. Once everyone stops talking and turns their attention to Mom, she smiles. “I just wanted to thank everyone for coming out to celebrate Daisy’s eighteenth birthday with us. It is always such a wonderful time getting to see all of our closest friends and family members. As you all know our family has gone through a lot in the past and it is so nice to have all of your support as we continue to heal. We wish we were celebrating Azalea and Daisy’s birthdays, but that is not the case.” Mom says, voice cracking a little at the mention of Azalea. “We are just happy we can still celebrate Daisy-.”

Mom is cut off when the door suddenly flies open. A young blonde girl, probably about my age comes walking through the door. There is something familiar about her, like I have seen her before. I’m just not sure where I know her from.

“Did you miss me?” She asks, voice soft and a little hesitant, but somehow, she still seems confident.

Mom gasps and nearly faints. Dad catches her, steadying her. “Azalea?” Dad asks, voice breaking.