Wendy

We didn’t have any problems until Wendy moved in last year. Phil had not dated since that night he brought us home. In fact, I never saw him with a woman at all until Wendy suddenly showed up in our lives and moved in, seemingly overnight. Phil had played his part, telling her that I was his step daughter but the truth was, it was a difficult story to sell. He hadn’t seemed happy about her being there but being a nice guy and passive, he didn’t stop her either.

Phillip is only ten years older than I am. He was six years younger than my mom when they dated briefly and she became pregnant with Nate. He is a very attractive man, looking younger than he is so most would assume when looking at us that we are a couple and that Nate is our child. That little boy is a perfect combination of Phil’s sandy blond hair and sharp cheekbones and my mom’s chocolate brown eyes and button nose. Both traits that I inherited from her, too.

Janet was only sixteen when she had me and until she started doing the heavier drugs that caused her to age quickly and lose that classic beauty she had always held, we could have and were very often mistaken for sisters. I am a lot curvier than she ever was, even before the meth took it’s hold on her mind and body.

Wendy reminded me a lot of Janet. I could tell she had once been beautiful but a hard life and poor choices had caught up to her, too, aging her more quickly than she would have liked. She hid the wrinkles behind layers of make-up and the provocative way she dressed, a desperate attempt to lure men in the only way she knew how, by being easy and available.

I couldn’t figure out if Phil had mommy issues or was just a complete pushover when it came to women but it would seem his type had middle aged cougar with a beauty pageant complex written all over them. From the years I had witnessed the droves of men walking in and out of my mother’s room and out our doors, it seemed men would stick it in anything willing to spread her legs for them. Wendy throwing herself at him and moving in overnight just screamed how desperate and despondent she truly was. She was mid-forties with multiple failed marriages behind her and she was frantically trying to hold onto any stitch of youth and attractiveness she could still manage.

Wendy didn’t even try to hide the fact that she hated me from the first moment and that caused many fights between them, fights I tried to ignore overhearing. Jealousy was truly a green eyed she demon. I was respectful to her, going out of my way to be nice and helpful, even when she gave me nothing but sneers, hateful comments and derogatory insults each and every chance she got. She didn’t matter to me. Nate mattered to me. As long as he was safe and taken care of and Phil let us stay there, I would endure anything and everything she could dish out without complaint.

And provoke me, she did try but it was in the most obnoxious and perverse ways. Talking about Phil inappropriately, bragging about her hold on him and comparing the two of us were amongst her greatest hits. My lack of response to any of her efforts infuriated her until she became just downright desperate to drive me from the house and have him all to herself. Something, she couldn't comprehend was never going to happen because I wasn't there for Phil. I was there for Nate.