“What do you mean ‘first weekly’? We’ve had pizza on Fridays before.” I leaned down to tighten my cross trainers. Gym day. I stole a glance at the clock over the sink. Four more minutes to go until Garreth would arrive.

Mom’s head emerged from around the door, lunch meat in hand. “No, I meant the four of us. You know, a weekly thing. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

She turned her back on me purposefully, reaching for the bread on the far counter.

“The four of us?”

“Uh huh.”

My mother was busying herself, avoiding the stricken look surfacing across my face.

“Did you have to ruin my whole week by bringing this up first thing? Now I have nothing to look forward to this weekend.”

“I thought I just gave you something.” Her face fell. Mine on the other hand felt permanently scowled as my grumpiness dug in deeper.

“You can still see Garreth this weekend; like you’re ever apart from that boy for too long. I’m sure he’ll be here in a few minutes anyway. That kid’s like clockwork. ”

She was attempting something she never had to do before, trying to sound strong and authoritative, and it didn’t seem to fit. She knew deep down that I hated the idea.

Abhored it.

Despised it.

It was worse than catching black lung or that creepy flesh-eating disease.

One minute to go … way too long.

Come on Garreth. Where are you?

I looked my mother square in the eye. “Why can’t the fourth person be Garreth? A nice little family dinner. Like a double date.”

Mom sighed deeply, returning the stare.

“It would make us so happy if you two would just try to get along.”

“She’s not even his daughter!” My stress level was skyrocketing. Not a good thing for a Monday before school. I could hear my calculus grade flushing down the toilet already.

“She’s his stepdaughter. And it still makes her family.”