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STEPBROTHER DEAREST
Penelope Ward
First Edition, September 2014
Copyright
©
2014 by
Penelope Ward
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced nor used in any
manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for use of
brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of
the author ’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living
or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover by RBA Designs. Stock photo © Shutterstock.com
Table of Contents:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
PART TWO:
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER 1
Cold air fogged the bay window in our living room as I nervously waited in front of it and
struggled to see outside. Any minute now, Randy’s Volvo station wagon would be pulling into the
driveway. He’d gone to Logan Airport to pick up his son, Elec, who would be living with us for the
next year while his mother took a yearlong work-related assignment overseas.
Randy and my mother, Sarah, had only been married a couple of years. My stepfather and I got
along well enough, but I wouldn’t say we were close. Here’s what little I knew about Randy’s former
life: his ex-wife, Pilar, was an Ecuadorian artist based in the San Francisco Bay area, and his son was
a tattooed punk who, according to Randy, was allowed to do whatever he wanted.
I hadn’t ever met my stepbrother before and had only seen a picture of him that was taken a
few years ago, shortly before Randy married my mother. From the picture, I could see he inherited
dark hair, probably from his South American mother, along with tanned skin, but had Randy’s light
eyes and fine features. He was clean-cut then, but Randy said Elec had entered into a rebellious stage
as of late. That included getting tattoos when he was only fifteen and getting into trouble for underage
drinking and smoking pot. Randy blamed Pilar for being flighty and too focused on her art career,
thereby allowing Elec to get away with murder.
Randy claimed he had encouraged Pilar to take a temporary position teaching classes run by a
London art gallery so that Elec, now 17, could come live with us.
Although Randy took two short trips out west a year, he wasn’t there on a daily basis to
discipline Elec. He struggled with that and said he looked forward to the opportunity to set his son
straight over the next year.
Butterflies swarmed in my stomach as I stared out at the dirty snow that lined my street. The
frigid Boston weather would be a rude awakening for my California-bred stepbrother.
I had a stepbrother.
That was a weird thought. I hoped we would get along. As an only child, I had always wanted a
sibling. I laughed at how stupid I was, fantasizing that this was going to be some kind of fairytale
relationship overnight, like friggin’ Donny and Marie Osmond or Jake and Maggie Gyllenhaal. This
morning, I heard an old Coldplay song I never even knew existed called Brothers and Sisters. It’s not
about siblings per say, but I convinced myself it was a good omen. This was going to be okay. I had
nothing to be scared about.
My mother seemed just as nervous as I was as she repeatedly ran up and down the stairs to get
Elec’s room ready. She had turned the office into a bedroom. Mom and I had gone to Walmart
together to buy sheets and other necessities. It was weird picking stuff out for someone you didn’t
know. We decided on dark navy bedding.
I started muttering to myself, thinking about what I would say to him, what we would talk
about, what I could introduce him to here. It was sort of exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time.
A car door slammed, prompting me to jump up from the couch and straighten my wrinkled
shirt.
Calm yourself, Greta.
The key made a turning sound. Randy walked in alone and left the door cracked open,
allowing the freezing air to seep into the room. After a few minutes, I could hear feet crunching on
the sheet of ice that covered the walkway but no Elec yet. He must have stopped outside before
entering. Randy stuck his head back out the door. “Get your ass in here, Elec.”
A lump formed in my throat when he appeared at the doorway. I swallowed hard and took him

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