Being a Stepfather

Being a Stepfather
By: Domus Vocis

Tonight was a big night for both of us, me and Chloe.

Nearing the point of being called a middle-aged lion, romance was as much on my mind months ago as it is smiling at job. My name is Gordon Jameson, and I worked as a paralegal in a law firm situated in the inner city, being paid either to help protect a client’s civil rights or a lowly criminals’ butt from being prosecuted. I did relentless paperwork, helped my colleagues prepare documents and spent hours writing on my laptop for upcoming cases.

Despite the great payment, my life outside the firm wasn’t golden. I worked hard into college and more on earning my degree, only socializing if it included friends from the office. When it came to girlfriends, I only had time for one night stands followed by a romance that could never work. My last girlfriend was a foxy lady named Marianne, who left me for the same reason as everyone else.

It wasn’t my tall stature, the deep voice I carried nor bad timing that made ladies walk away, but how something never clicked. Never made my tail wag.

Until her.

We met while I was visiting the local high school in the suburbs. My client was the parent of a bullied student, and apparently the staff weren’t doing anything to stop it. Oh boy, when I walked in and told the principal, a hyena, that this example of poor disciplining could lead to him being sued, it got the guy to do his job. Maybe it was my way with words, or how my stature required me to duck under the door that made the hyena feel smaller.

It was supposed to be a simple in-and-out meeting, until I met with one of the teachers who reported the bullying. Before the hilarious ordeal, I walked through the hallways with my briefcase to my side (and minding the stares from students who gawked at my goliath size) when I came to the right room. A simple classroom with simple rows of seats and a simple, dusty chalkboard. Behind the desk though was no simple teacher.

“So Mrs. Beaumont, my name is Gordon Jameson,” I grumbled, minding to keep my voice low and professional. My big paws gripped onto my pen and notepad, struggling to sit down in a seat. “Care to tell me about the incident in detail?”

Mrs. Beaumont formed a soft, saddened smile while curling her rope-like tail behind her jeans. “Well, Bryan was walking by my classroom minding his own business when Jared Evans walks up and pounds the poor cat’s back. He then pulls at Bryan’s tail, Bryan telling the wolf to knock it off before being smacked across the muzzle. Hm…he…he then shouted such vulgar things, and I…” Her eyes darted up to me, and I felt a twinge of guilt for seeming intimidating due to my size. “I uh, Bryan then…” The mouse timidly clenched her fingers into a fist, but exhaled a breath.

“Are you okay, Mrs. Beaumont?” I asked while keeping my voice still low. “Am I making you uncomfortable talking about—?”

“Oh, no, no, no!” she waved her palms in the air, chuckling softly. “It-It isn’t you; I just…” The mouse sighed, her eyes glancing to a framed photo on her desk. “I have a daughter, and the idea of her being bullied like that in school is just…” Mrs. Beaumont frowned and looked at me, a serious fire in her eyes. “It angers me. Greatly. Bryan isn’t some juvenile delinquent: he’s a great student who has solid grades and wouldn’t hurt a fly! I’ve been a teacher for several years now, am a mother myself, and the idea that our principal would dismiss it as ‘boys play’ is appalling!”

Silent for a moment, I blinked at her passionate monologue as the mouse caught her breath and giggled. “I-I’m so sorry about that,” she told me, embarrassed.

In return, I chuckled without remembering to keep my laugh low. “That’s quite alright, Mrs. Beaumont,” I told her. “With the cruddy education system nowadays, it’s great to see concerned teachers like yourself.”

The mouse blinked back, forming a genuine smile. “Thank you so much,” she told me. “And please, call me Chloe.” Chloe shook her nimble paw with my mighty one.

Gently, I shook back. “And call me Gordon,” I asked, feeling this sense of ease around her. “I’m probably not the first to say this, but I think using surnames makes you feel older than you should be.”

“I know, right?” she chortled. “Mrs. Beaumont makes me feel old enough as it is. Especially since…” Chloe quickly changed the subject back towards the issue, and I quickly remembered I had to be taking notes.

Mrs. Chloe Beaumont, a short and attractive mouse who spoke passionately about her student and her job to educate and protect. She was only ten years behind me, but happened to be a young widow. I didn’t press her for details, but was surprised when she asked if I wanted to go out for some coffee after I grilled the principal with my notes and my client’s lawsuit. I immediately said yes without thinking, and happily walked out of the school with a feline grin across my muzzle.

The outing went better than expected, and the future date even more wonderful. We’d been dating for almost nine months since, seeing each other between our busy work schedules and then at night out on Saturday evenings. I sometimes even shriveled a weekday off from the office and could bring her out on a lunch date by the river. I expected Chloe to be a timid, shy mouse going into our relationship—I thought that too during my assignment at the school—but something was different about her. It wasn’t her eyes or her wardrobe, but her personality. She always knew how to make me feel relaxed, and not self-conscious about my height and stature as a lion.

Over time, I learned more about her as she learned about me. Chloe married her childhood sweetheart when they graduated college, and both wanted to be teachers together. Their daughter, named Minnie, was unfortunate to lose her father in a drunk accident when she was only five, and it especially hit Chloe hard. I didn’t push on her feelings for her late husband.

“I can never replace David,” I told her, gently hugging her in my big arms, “but I can be there for you.”

Sniffling, Chloe simply nodded. “He would want that for me,” she said, kissing my furry chin with her ticklish nose. “Thank you.”

Weeks bled into months, until Chloe told me that that she needed to tell Minnie about us. Ever since the accident, the mouse never went on dates and didn’t even hint about the idea to her daughter. At only eleven years old, Minnie still missed her daddy to this day.

“I can’t lie to her about who I’m dating, Gordon…” Chloe said as we drove from one of our Saturday night dates. Even after weeks of planning this, my little mouse was scared about telling Minnie as me. “You matter to me now. I just don’t want her to feel like I’m replacing David or anything. She loves her daddy, and the thought…”

I nodded reassuringly to my Chloe. “I know, sweetie,” I said, my paw holding onto hers. “I know you still love him, and so does Minnie.”

Chloe formed a soft smile. “I love you though,” she said, leaning up in the seat to kiss my cheek.
“When we tell Minnie, I don’t know what to do if she…doesn’t approve.”

“We’ll think of something,” I comforted her, turning to quickly nuzzle her. “I love you so much, Chloe.”

“I love you too, Gordon. I’m happy you’re calm about this.”

Being a muscular lion, many assumed that fear was below me, and I never got nervous about anything coming my way. Until tonight, I never felt that way in my life. I didn’t feel it when I drew near a deadline or when I was late to, but my instincts were truly baffled. I was supposedly afraid of a little mouse girl?

Then the night came when Chloe would introduce me to Minnie over dinner. I drove into Chloe’s driveway when hours were over, a nervous grip on the steering wheel. When I knocked on the door and stood awkwardly waiting, a smaller mouse answered the door with a curious look in her eyes.

“Um…hello little girl,” I spoke, still self-conscious about my growling voice.

Around the hallway appeared Chloe. “Mommy, who is the big lion?” Minnie asked, her tail curling as her eyes stared up at me.

God, I felt so out-of-place, like I was intruding in someone else’s life. When Minnie’s mother came to give me a hug, Chloe and I kissed each other’s cheeks before turning to Minnie.

“Minnie, the lion’s name is Gordon Jameson,” she introduced me. “He is…a special friend of Mommy’s. We’ve known each other for quite some time, and I wanted to introduce you two over dinner.” After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Chloe cleared her throat. “Okay then, let’s get started then. Minnie, come help me set the dishes. You too, sweetie?”

Nodding in approval, I broke away from the smaller mouse’s stare.

To say dinner was awkward would be an understatement. All three of us ate in relative silence, save for an occasional mumble of the food and clinking glassware. I felt large in her dining room, but graciously ate the casserole cooked and glanced between a quiet Minnie and her mother. My Chloe held a smile to her and glanced occasionally between me and her daughter.

I felt so intrusive, like I didn’t belong in their home. I couldn’t handle being with someone else before I met Chloe, so how could I handle being a stepfather?

Then, to me and Chloe’s surprise, tears formed in Minnie’s eyes. “Are you here to replace my Daddy?” she asked all of a sudden, staring down at her casserole. Minnie sniffled silently, clearly in distress.

My ears folded at the words, and I felt my heart sink. Chloe’s expression of hurt was no different, so I got from my seat and cautiously knelt by Minnie. And, minding my strength, hugged her lithely.

“Oh Minnie, I could never—would never—replace your Daddy,” I whispered, his tail curling around the small mouse in her seat. She was stunned at first, but didn’t pull away from my comforting arms.
“Your Mommy has told me so many wonderful things about your Daddy, and he sounds like a wonderful man.” He did, and I sometimes wondered to this day if he and I would’ve gotten along. “No one should ever have to go through something like that, and…I’m sorry.” I paused, looking to Chloe across the table who simply stared at us affectionately, then gulped. “I…I…hm. Your mother means so much to me, Minnie. She makes me happy, I make her happy, and so do you.”

Minnie cleared her throat before looking at me. “I do?”

I gave a heartfelt nod, not wanting to overstep my bounds. “Of course,” I said, lifting a paw to pat her shoulders. “Chloe, you’ve told me so much about her, remember? How she loves to play music, that she bikes during summer when it isn’t raining, she loves that anime uh…‘Ouran Host Club of High School’?

Minnie snickered beside me. “Ouran High School Host Club,” she said, giggling. “Have you seen it?” I shook my mane, and made me promise to watch an episode with her sometime. I didn’t know what the heck it was, but I was open to spending time with Chloe’s daughter.

The tension really eased after that. Into dessert, Minnie opened herself up to me, telling about middle school and how she couldn’t wait for music camp in the summer. Chloe joined in, lecturing her daughter about grades and classes in order to go to her high school she worked at. That got Minnie’s attention, who’d rather date a boy she didn’t like than have her mother as a teacher. That one got a boisterous laugh out of me.

Between me and Minnie, we discussed her hobbies, my hobbies, our likes and dislikes, and everything there was about her. Even as I was about to leave for the night (I still worked a long shift in the morning), I knew I struck a chord with Chloe and her daughter.

Who knew? Maybe I could make it work? Maybe I could actually be a good husband to Chloe and a good role model to Minnie someday? I love them both, Chloe does too, and I have a feeling Minnie will soon welcome me into her life.

Maybe I could handle being a stepfather after all.