Moonlit Mayhem

7

Chapter 7: Becky

Becky drove through the exquisite gate that led to the entrance to her family home. Even with all of the windows down, the car still reeked of greasy fast food. It almost made Becky want to vomit. How could the kids eat that junk? She slammed on the brakes, getting out of her car and tossing the keys to the waiting car detailer, before storming into the house ready to see her snake, Jimmy. Her father stopped her halfway up the entry stairs. 
"I bought you a new wine course," he said, calling down the stairs without bothering to walk down the last half of them. "If you would just—"
"I won't 'just' anything, papa," Becky retorted, annoyance thick on her tongue. "I don't want to run your stupid vineyard."
"Well, if you do the course, you can have that snake you were so keen on earlier," her father bargained. 
"You already bought me the snake, so why should I have to work for it?" Becky countered.
"Because I can send him back just as quickly as he got here." her father threatened, tired of her ways of getting out of what he was asking of her
"Then I'll go to the pet shop and buy Simon myself!" Becky said stubbornly, coming up with a name on the spot. 
"Your winery course books have been delivered to your room. I suggest you start studying because who knows what might happen to your weekly allowance if you don't?" Becky took a moment to prepare her next argument but her father beat her to it. "Now, I expect you to finish the first chapter, then—and only then—will the snake's fate be decided. Understood?"
All Becky could bring herself to do was nod. She stomped over to the elevator, taking her anger out of the elevator buttons as she pressed them much harder than necessary. Even though she could easily take the stairs, she didn't particularly want to shove past her father after their argument. As soon as the elevator doors opened, Becky was greeted by her stepmother's fakest smile. 
"Your course books have been delivered to your room," she said sweetly, not bothering to ask how Becky's day had gone or even if she was hungry. 
"I know," Becky said, giving her stepmother clear signs that she wasn't happy with her father and that she didn't want to chit-chat about nothing for the next thirty minutes. "Papa told me."
"Well, you'd best get to it then," her step-mother said, stepping into the elevator as Becky stepped out. 
Becky huffed stomping into her luxurious room, heading to the small ten-by-twelve feet closet where her office was located. The winery management book quickly made Becky's eyes droop with exhaustion, whether it was from the long day or the book itself, Becky wasn't sure, but she was set on blaming it on the book. Becky suffered through the first chapter slapping her face to stay awake. She got a 95.76% on the chapter one test, meaning that she could finally take a shower and get something to eat. She was glad that the practical torture was over. 
After a perfectly grilled cheese with some type of cheese that would waste away your day as you tried to pronounce it, Becky headed back to her office where her aquarium was placed. Inside was an axolotl by the name of Pearl. Becky had gotten Pearl about a year ago when she passed her driver's test. Next, Becky visited with her silver chinchilla named Elsa, who she had gotten for her tenth birthday, which had been a present from her mom. 
When she was younger, Becky used to wonder every day why her father chose the wicked step-mom, as she used to put it. At the end of the day, it came down to one thing: the wicked stepmom—who was at least twenty years younger than her dad—was practically identical to Becky's biological mother. In her father's own twisted way, he was trying to replace her mother with someone who looked like her. The whole thing filled Becky with boiling rage and rotting disgust. How dare he try to replace her mother! Her mama was the only person who would ever be her mother, not this...Jennifer. 
Jennifer would never be more than a replacement—a horrible one at that. Sure, Jennifer was nice to Becky—most of the time—but there was a mutual sense of superiority that ruled the household. Becky knew her father much better than Jennifer and nothing would ever change that. In Jennifer's mind though, Becky was no more than an inconvenience. As far as Becky was concerned, she was willing to bet a lot that Jennifer was counting down the days until Becky left, leaving Jennifer with Becky's father all to herself. Well, as much as she could with her younger sister, Charlotte, around. The little brunette wasn't truly Becky's sister, but the child couldn't help who her mother was. 
So, Becky had decided as soon as she had been born—nearly ten years ago now—that she was going to take Charlotte under her wing and care for her the best she could. Just as a real sister would do. While Becky found herself flinching when Jennifer called her 'daughter', she always enjoyed it when Charlotte called her 'big sister'. Speaking of her little sister, Charlotte bounded into Becky's room. 
"At camp today, we rode horses!" Charlotte said with a slight lisp, from her missing front teeth. 
"What color was the horse you rode?" Becky asked with genuine interest. 
"He was spotted! Our camp helper said that he was an appo-something. He didn't listen very well; he just wanted to go fast. Every time I gave him a little squeeze he would trot instead of walk. Mum says that we can't buy him though."' Charlotte said, pouting cutely. "The camp director says that it's in his blood to be stubborn. Isn't that a song that you play?" Charlotte asked, changing the subject quickly. 
"In My Blood, Shawn Mendes," Becky answered immediately. "It's too bad your mother won't let us buy him, did she say why, Char?" 
"She says that when I can drive, I can get a horse," Charlotte said enthusiastically. Becky's anger flared at that response, but she quickly composed herself.
"You can drive, why don't you have a horse?" Charlotte asked suddenly. 
"Why don't you ask papa at dinner?" Becky asked, an evil glint in her eye. She hadn't set Charlotte on her father yet, begging for a horse, and who knows; it might just work.