Don't Bet on It

Chapter 1

"I already said I'm not going."

My mom gave an exasperated sigh as I leaned back onto my pillows and browsed through my Netflix options. "Come on, Jessa. She's not going to murder you."

"How do you know?" My older sister Emma shouted from her room. "You've never met her!"

Mom groaned. "You two have got to be kidding me."

I snuggled into my aqua hoodie that I got from the NASA gift shop. "Mom, I'm not spending this beautiful day with Dad and his new girlfriend."

Mom rubbed her temples. "How did I get stuck with two stubborn girls like you?"

"I honestly don't understand why you want us to meet her so bad," Emma said, popping her head in my doorway. "If I were you, I'd keep my kids as far away from them as possible."

"Just because your dad and I aren't married anymore doesn't mean we can't be on good terms. He wanted me to bring you to meet her, so that's what I'm doing."

We shook our heads.

"I'll get you a dozen blueberry cake donuts."

"Each?" Emma asked hopefully.

Mom nodded.

So that's how I found myself in the backseat of my mom's car, driving to go see my dad and meet his new fiancée.

Oh, how I dreaded that encounter.

I purposefully made myself look like trash. If she wants to be part of the family, then she needs to be able to deal with the way I dress when I'm around my family. I was wearing my aqua hoodie, of course, and some turquoise sweatpants. I hadn't brushed my hair and I'd slipped on a pair of flip-flops walking out the door.

Emma had taken the opposite approach. She had on a really tight silvery blue dress that stopped about six inches above her knees and pumps covered in silver crystals. Her hair was straightened and in a high ponytail, and pale blue teardrop-shaped crystals hung from her ear lobes. She had on a face full of makeup. After she got in the backseat with me, she pulled a bottle of shiny blue nail polish out of her purse and started to paint her nails.

Mom took one look at us and burst out laughing. "I love you kids," she said, backing out of the driveway.

We pulled up in front of a huge white mansion about fifteen minutes later. There wasn't much color to the yard besides green and white. The bushes along the front of the house were neatly squared, and the grass was just the right height, not too long and not too short. This seemed like the house of a drab, orderly person.

I dragged myself out of the car and followed Mom and Emma up the walkway to the front porch. Mom rang the bell and we waited.

Footsteps, and then Dad opened the door. Standing behind him was a tall, business-looking woman with long brown hair in a low ponytail, black dress pants, a white button-down shirt, black sweater, and black dress shoes.

"Hi, girls," Dad said. He eyed Emma's outfit for a second, and then smiled. "Come on in."

We stepped over the threshold - why does this seem like some sort of ceremonial event - and joined Dad and the other woman in the living room.

"Girls, this is Laura," Dad said. "Laura, these are my daughters, Emma and Jessa, and their mom, Alexis."

"Hi." Emma stepped forward and held out her hand. "I'm Emilia Wilder, and this is my sister, Jessica."

I saw what she was doing and I understood completely. This woman was basically a stranger - she didn't exactly have the right to call us by our nicknames yet.

The woman smiled and shook her hand. "Laura Jackson. Pleased to meet you."