Stepsister
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“Mommy, can you hear me? Can someone get me out of here?” A deep silence surrounded me. Why was nobody answering me?
Photos: Menachem Kalish
Was her hair bushy or simply unkempt? Were her curls orange or just dirty?
Brenda was my new sister, by choice. Though actually, I didn’t have a choice. I was not asked or even introduced to her. I was just forced to empty some of my dresser drawers and offer them to her, and the same with the bed next to mine.
It was a snowy Monday in December when my mother married Mr. Newmark. No way was I going to call him Daddy or even Uncle, ‘cuz my father was going to return to my life one day.
Brenda was two years younger than me. She was 11 years old but she acted like she was eight. She was everything except smart, which included: funny-looking, annoying, and an intruder into my life. Or so I decided.
We spoke to each other only when necessary. “Pass me the milk,” or sometimes, “The shower is available.” Those types of conversations. And that was where it ended.
Luckily, she didn’t seem bothered by the cold shoulder I gave her.
***
It took a nice amount of nagging until my mother decided that it was finally the ideal week to shop for winter clothing. I dreamed about refilling my closet with fashionable burgundy sweaters and wool skirts and couldn’t wait to dispose of all my faded summer skirts.
My mother was generally kind and generous when it came to shopping or after-school extracurricular activities. She really wanted to make my life a happy one. There was one thing, however, she could not give me for any money in the world and that was acceptance of her new life. She never breathed even one single word to me about him (Mr. Newmark) or her (his daughter). She just watched and waited and hoped I would make it work and accept my new situation.
So I was shocked by her sudden announcement. “Leah, I will be taking both you and Brenda out together to Goods Shopping Center tomorrow evening.”
I had never gone out with my mother and Brenda together, and I was totally mortified that she would be joining us. But I wasn’t being given a choice. Again.
Evening arrived and I couldn’t think of any way of getting out of this “family” shopping expedition.
I walked beside my mother in silence, making sure that Brenda stayed on the other side at all times. We strolled silently, going from one store to another until I reached Mash, my favorite store.
There I saw a silky navy wrap with a matching bubble skirt. It practically smiled at me. I loved it.
I found my size and zoomed to the fitting area, leaving my mother and Brenda to wait for me — selfish, no?
I took my time, examining myself from every angle in front of the mirror. Suddenly, all the lights shut off. There was a blackout throughout the entire store. I could see nothing aside from the small, still glistening ruby on my ring.
The darkness scared me. I yelled to no one in particular. I tried finding my way out but the upgraded fitting room had electric doors which were now stuck closed. I was trapped in the stifling, thick darkness.
I took a sip from my water bottle, then yelled again for someone to come save me. When there was no response, I just let my tears roll down onto the new outfit I was still wearing.
“Mommy, can you hear me? Can someone get me out of here?” A deep silence surrounded me. Why was nobody answering me? Why did no one care to help me out?
After trying, to no avail, to force the door open, I just sat and listened to the noises from outside the fitting room. I was not sure exactly what was going on, but it sounded like the workers were trying to get the situation corrected.
My heart skipped a beat when suddenly I heard a familiar voice. It was a voice I usually tried to avoid, but which now sounded like music to my ears
“Leah? Leah, are you okay? Can I pass you my flashlight?”
She pushed it under the door, but I was so stunned I couldn’t even thank her.
“I already asked the saleslady to come and force your door open. She is working on it now.”
My emotions were strangling me, closing my vocal chords.
Was that Brenda? Was she really so caring and quick to take action just to help me?
“Leah? Can you hear me? Do you want me to stay here with you?”
I tried to hide my amazement at her generosity; she seemed to be standing with me in the darkness, giving me a comforting feeling.
“Brenda, where is my mother?”
“Oh, she went into the next store, but I assured her I would stay with you,”
I was sweating, still not believing the chain of events. Was that really Brenda talking to me?
Just then the lights went on to find me still wearing the silky navy wrap. I slipped it off, totally uninterested in it at that moment.
Cautiously, I managed to open the door to the fitting room and found myself giving Brenda a genuine smile.
Was it a smile combined with love or simply a smile of gratefulness? I wasn’t sure.
We walked together out of the store. She seemed to feel so comfortable by my side, while a world of emotions whirled inside me.
“Leah, wasn’t it frightening? I would have been hysterical!” Brenda seemed impressed with me.
“Well, I was scared, but I calmed down when you came to stay with me.” Who was saying those strange words that just came out of my mouth?
I lost all interest in shopping and just wanted to go home. On the way home, an idea began percolating in my mind.
“Ma, I actually do think I have enough clothing to get me through the next few weeks.”
My mother gave me an astonished look.
The minute we arrived home, I dashed to my bedroom, took out my colored gel pens and sat cross-legged on my bed.
I didn’t lock the door. This time, I actually hoped Brenda would come in. And she did, a few minutes later.
“Brenda, I was thinking of an idea and wondering if you could help me out.”
“Sure Leah, what is it?”
I suddenly noticed a certain charm about her.
“Well, I had this thought. I’d love to start a support group in our community for girls with stepsisters. What do you say? We could plan events and games, bring speakers… The options are endless!”
Brenda’s lips curled upward as she inched closer to me in an attempt to confirm that what she just heard had actually came from me. She plopped down on the floor and sat across from me.
As if from the outside, I watched myself as I walked over and sat down next to her on the plush pink carpet.
Then I did something I never knew I was capable of. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders in a big hug and smiled at her for one long, meaningful minute.
And that was how our support group for stepsisters was launched.
(Originally featured in Mishpacha Jr., Issue 741)
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