This real-life tale of sibling rivalry, absurd injustice, and never before thought of humor holds the readers attention as they laugh with the author through the most difficult lessons of growing up in an abusive home. Along the way, we also learn to always . . . always, be careful of what you wish for. Jessie wished for a sister and her Dad made it happen. When she was introduced to her new step-family she had no idea things were about to get ugly. Kimberly, the stepsister, starts a feud with Jessie that lasts well over thirty years. While Connie, the stepmother, plays a role so severe she eventually becomes known as the 'Redheaded Step-Monster from H-E-Double Hockey Sticks'. As the family expands to include more siblings, the physical and mental abuse Jessie is subjected to becomes almost intolerable. With Dad, her one-time ally turned against her, she searches for the humor to help her cope and heal.

Family is an 'F' Word

Perceptions of LoveBy Jessica Victoria Einstein

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2010 Jessica Victoria Einstein
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4490-0245-9

Contents

1. The Beginning of a Life Long Feud.............................12. Preschool and Kindergarten....................................233. First Grade...................................................454. Second, Third, and Fourth Grades..............................595. Fifth Grade...................................................776. Sixth Grade...................................................93

Chapter One

When I was six months old, Dad paid my Mom's best friend five dollars to take my Mom to the store and keep her busy while he took me and the color television set and left the state of Oregon. We never went back. What a way to begin life, huh?

Well, in Dad's defense, he thought he was doing the right thing. I, of course, have no actual memory of this because I was so young. It was just the story I was told every time I asked about my 'real' Mom while I was growing up. Eventually, I would find out that it was true and it would break my heart. For now though, I was too young to know any different or to even ask any of the questions that would get me close to the truth. For the next three and a half years, Dad was my family and I thought my Dad was the greatest man alive.

I had been asking my Dad for a sister or brother to play with for a little over a year. I guess he got tired of my hounding him, and he set about making my wish a reality.

Dad was divorced, and I guess that means you can't make another kid. Well, that's what he had told me. But, Dad was super smart, and I had faith that he would find a way around the rule. Sure enough, he did too.

"Buy one at the bar store," I had said one night as he was tucking me in.

Dad had chuckled and said, "I'll think about it, Jessie." Jessie was the special name that Dad used for me but my real name was Jessica. I went to bed at the same time the sun did every night, and sometimes Dad would go to a place he called "The Bar" after I fell asleep. That's where he was headed on this particular night.

Grandma was coming over to watch me sleep. I never really understood why Grandma would watch me sleep. I just figured I must've been doing some really cool stuff like flying or something while I was snoozing. Grandma was only there to make sure I didn't get hurt. Or, maybe she was there to make sure I always made it back to my bed safely. I will have to watch someone sleep one day, I thought.

Dad was still smiling when he interrupted my thoughts by saying, "I'll tell ya' what, Jessie. I'll see what I can find at the 'Big People Store' tonight, ok?"

The "Big People Store" was Dad's code phrase for "The Bar" because you had to be a big person to go there. It was kind of like a club house for grown-ups. I crossed my fingers under the soft down of the blanket Grandma had made for me and said, "I want a girl, Dad. Please, buy me a sister."

He chuckled again and said, "Okay, I'll see what I can do." Then he gave me a little wink, shut the light off, and closed my bedroom door.

I don't really know how much time passed before Dad brought home my new sister. I was four-years-old, and to me, one day seemed like an eternity. So, it could have been seven eternities or more as far as I knew. Of course, all I really know is that the leaves were pretty colors on the trees when Dad and I had last talked about getting me someone to play with, and the day I met my new sister, the leaves had already fallen from the branches and there was a pristine blanket of snow on the ground.

Talk about exciting, I finally had my very own sister. Kimberly was the one I had asked for, prayed about, and even crossed my fingers to wish for. She was the same as me. She was four-years-old, her parents were divorced, and we were both girls. But, there were some things I didn't care for and there were some big differences between us.

For starters, the special name I had for my Dad, which was "Dad," was no longer used by only me. Kimberly was now allowed to call him "Dad," too because he had married her Mom, Connie. I thought that they would call him by his big people name, "Tim." But I guess when you get married, the rules are different.

Secondly, Kimberly was taller than me "because she was big-boned," her Mom said. There were even more differences. She had very thick, blonde hair and dark green eyes. Her skin looked kind of brown like she had been baked in the oven with a batch of cookies. Oh, and she didn't have any freckles either.

I was short and skinny. I was so small that people actually called me "Runt." My eyes were a pale blue color, and my brown hair was so fine it tangled up in a rat's nest if someone so much as exhaled in my direction. In fact, until I was much older, I had heard my parents reference the rats so often I thought I had a family of them living in my mattress.

See, my Dad and Connie were always trying to comb out the nest those stupid rats put in my hair each morning. I hated rats for years because I thought they literally played in my hair every night. Who wouldn't hate rats? I figured it was because of those rotten little critters that I cried each morning when their handiwork was combed out.

My skin was a pasty white color like that of a spit-wad. Well, most of my skin was that color. My freckles were orangish brown, and I didn't exactly have a light dusting of them across my cheeks and nose. I would say it looked more like someone had beaten me about the face with the business end of a paint brush.

Yes, we were different, I thought, but, who cares? It was Christmas and we were pretty excited because Santa had already delivered gifts to the good little girls and boys. We must've been good that year because we had colorful boxes under the tree with our names on them. I don't remember all of the stuff we got, and I guess that didn't really matter because, the feud started over what happened with a single toy...my treasure chest. After opening our gifts, it was time to put our pajamas on and go to sleep.

While we were changing, I was fondly admiring my new treasure chest. Santa had brought it just for me. It was filled with multi-colored plastic balls that could connect to each other and make a chain. I had carried it gingerly to the room I shared with Kimberly and placed it at the foot of our bed. Just between you and me, I wanted it close by so if someone tried to steal it, I would wake up and stop them.

Kimberly and I climbed into bed to secretly play with the plastic, green, Army men that Santa had also left. A few minutes later, Kimberly announced she had to poop. I burst into a fit of giggles. As she was about to leave the room, her eyes landed on my shiny, new treasure chest.

You could almost see the wheels of her mind turning. As she swung back around and looked me square in the eye, I had a vision. It was as though we were standing twelve paces apart in the center of a dusty, Old West town, both wearing six-shooters, mere seconds before the clock was to strike high noon. She said, with an evil glint in her eye, "Do you dare me to go poop in your treasure chest?"

There I was, kneeling in the center of our bed, six guns at my sides. Time seemed to stand still. The furnace kicked on sending dust bunnies skittering across the floor. A bead of sweat formed on my brow, and I said, "I dare you!" Then I promptly flopped over laughing and giggling. There was no...