Under His Eye: Falling for Stepdaddy

Tossing and Turning

Later that night, I was tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.

Part of it I guess was just how strange it was to be back in my old bed, which seemed like it had shrunk. But the real truth was that I couldn't stop thinking about Malcolm Kent.

What was it about him? Was it his elegance and poise? Was it that steely gaze of his and the elegant, upright way he carried himself?

Or was it that I could sense a ferocity lying just under the surface? Whatever the case, I could feel my skin burning from where he'd put my hand on my leg, and it was making me restless in a way I hadn't felt in a long time.

I guess part of the problem was that I hadn't had much luck in the boyfriend department. I'd gone off to college thinking there'd be lots of parties or other occasions to meet guys.

And in a sense, that was true. More than once a boy had come up to me with a swaggering grin on his face, making comments about how hot they thought I was. I even made out with one of those cocky rascals, but that was as far as it went.

Even if they were cute, I just didn't feel that hot spark of a deeper connection, probably because they all seemed so immature to me. I'm no stick in the mud or anything, but watching guys get wasted and crush empty beer cans on their heads just didn't do anything for me.

On the other hand, as much as I could see that Malcolm was a sophisticated man of the world, he seemed far too aggressive to be suitable for my mother.

If he were truly a gentleman, he never would've stared at my chest like that or have done something as brazen as squeeze my thigh underneath the table. That told me he was more of a playboy, the kind of guy who flitted between women, and this was completely unsuitable for my mother.

But that led to another question. Why was my mother so apparently smitten by Malcolm? Sure, the whirlwind trips to New York and the comfort of having a man by your side with money to spare must be a nice change of pace for her.

But I could sense that her feelings for him were quite deep, and that was a mystery for me. My father had been a loyal, patient man who adored his family, so why had my mother abandoned her widowhood after all these years for a rakish bachelor like Malcolm?

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that maybe my mother just couldn't see what kind of man Malcolm actually was. If she knew how he'd touched me in such an intimate way, she'd be horrified.

And if he'd done something like that to me, he was probably doing it to other women as well. Her going on a few dates with him was one thing, but if things were moving in the direction I thought they were, she needed to know what she was getting into before it was too late.

Therefore, as much as I didn't want to hurt my mother's feelings, I resolved to tell her about what Malcolm had done. She might be upset with me for a while, but in the long run, it was better that she knew now rather than later.

And with that taken care of, I rolled over and closed my eyes, satisfied that I was doing the right thing. Yet even as sleep slowly crept up on me, my last conscious thoughts were of how tingly and warm I felt inside every time I replayed the image of Malcolm looking at me as he reached over to touch me.

The next couple of days went by in a blur, visiting friends and neighbors as well as getting in some last-minute shopping. Between running errands and then having Malcolm over for dinner every night, it was a while before I finally got some alone time with my mother.

We were sitting in the living room, enjoying some tea and homemade cookies when I decided to tell her about Malcolm.

"So yeah, I know it must be weird for me to be springing that on you," I said. "But I thought you should know the truth about him."

"Oh, Allie," said my mother with an amused chuckle, not horrified at all. "That's just how Malcolm is, dear. He's very direct."

"Direct?" I spluttered. "Mom, he put his hand right on my upper thigh and gave it a squeeze. That's more than direct."

"Sweetie, I know it's been a long time since there's been a real man in the house," said my mother. "But men aren't like us. Malcolm was just letting you know that he likes you. You should be flattered."

"Flattered?" I said, scarcely able to believe what I was hearing. "Mom, if my professor at school did that, it'd be s****l harassment."

"Oh, pish-posh," said my mother with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Anyway, Malcolm isn't your professor, is he, dear? He's my friend, and I'm thrilled that he's been so warm and welcoming to my family."

"Mom, I just don't understand why you're not taking this seriously," I said, cringing inside at the whiny tone I could hear in my voice.

"What is there to take seriously?" said my mother, sipping her tea. "You're making a mountain out of a molehill."

"Okay, look," I said, deciding to switch tactics. "Let me ask you this. Are things serious between you and this Malcolm character? Or is this some kind of mid-life fling you're having?"

"My goodness, how could you ask me such a question?" said my mother, touching her chest. "I think you know I'm way too old to be involved in a fling."

"Well?" I said. "You didn't answer the question. You're saying this is serious then?"

My mother paused for a moment and then looked straight into my eyes. "Honey, I didn't want to tell you until things had been decided, but... well, Malcolm proposed to me last night."

"What?" I said, almost knocking over my teacup as I sprang to my feet. "Seriously? And what did you say?"

"I told him that I needed some time to think about it," said my mother. "I wanted him to get to know you and the rest of the family before I made my final decision."

"Oh my god," I said, my head spinning, making it hard to think. "I've only been away at college for a few months. And now you're on the verge of marrying a guy you just met? This is crazy!"

"Oh, Allie," my mother tittered, a big smile on her face. "You always were such a melodramatic child. I love your father, and I'll miss him for the rest of my days. But I deserve to have some companionship."

"I... I understand," I said, feeling faint. "But it all just seems so fast."

"Nonsense," said my mother. "Anyway, I think I'm going to say yes. Malcolm has been very good to me. He'll be good to this family. You'll see."

"Uh-huh," I said, slumping down on the sofa.

"Speaking of which, your semester ends in May, right?" said my mother.

"Um, first week of June," I muttered, still trying to get my bearings as I pictured Malcolm Kent, the billionaire, becoming my stepdad. It all just seemed so surreal.

"Wonderful!" said my mother, clapping her hands together. "I've always loved the idea of a June wedding. It'll all be so pretty, you'll see."

Even in my incapacitated state, I realized at that moment that my life was about to change forever.