Emily worried when she saw her stepson behaving strangely. She requested her husband Tom to speak to him.
Emily worried when she saw her stepson behaving strangely. Her husband Tom tried to speak to him, but the youngster wouldn’t open up. Emily overheard Sam and his biological mom talking by accident, and the reality shocked and devastated her for her son.
Sam, my stepson, returned from his mom’s house every Sunday at 5 p.m. He entered our front door every Sunday, kicked off his shoes, and went to his room without saying a word.
Like someone shut off Sam’s light, our cheerful, chatty ten-year-old became silent.
Hardest part? What transpired at his mom’s was never mentioned. I wanted to inquire about his unhappiness without being pushy. Even though Sam embraced me as his stepmom, I wasn’t sure how much I could help.
Was he alright, Tom? I questioned my hubby while cooking supper.
Sam had just been dropped off, looking gloomier than ever and scarcely speaking to us.
“I think he’s alright,” Tom remarked, chopping onions. “Kate can be tough, probably nagged him about school again.”
“Maybe,” I responded, stirring soup. But I pester him about schoolwork, and he’s OK. He may laugh or say something silly, but he’s himself. The vibe is off. I don’t want to interfere since his true mom comes first.”
Tom answered with a grin, “If you want to talk to him, just do it. Ask him anything. I’ll check on him after dinner.”
Nodding, I felt lighter. I simply wanted Tom to check on Sam. This wasn’t always so. Sam was a bright spot when he moved in with us near his beloved school.
He told me about his day, asked a million questions, and tried to get to know me. We laughed about flour spills while preparing muffins for hours.
But that kid seems distant recently. We did everything to get him out of his post-Kate melancholy. We’d make his favorite spaghetti, play cards, and have movie evenings with snacks and blankets.
Nothing helped.
I thought Tom’s post-dinner conversation would help.
“It was fine, Dad,” Sam murmured when Tom enquired about his weekend. “Mom was just Mom, I suppose.”
From the kitchen, I heard their voices as Tom lit a small fire to cook marshmallows.
“But why so quiet, buddy? Did anything happen? “Your mom’s great, but she can be a lot,” Tom joked.
“It’s tiring being there, Dad,” Sam said quietly. “But I know I must go every weekend.”
Tom softly responded, “It matters. “If it’s too much, we could try every other week. Okay?”
As Sam pondered, his face sank.
“I’m going to bed,” he replied hurriedly. “Night.”
Sam rushed through the kitchen door, and I believed he would pass. But he stopped and hugged me quickly.
“Night, Em,” he muttered, entering his room.
I wanted to stop him and ask what was wrong, but I refrained. I knew mixed families were difficult, but this was different. Not knowing what was weighing on my stepson was heartbreaking.
Everything was revealed last weekend.
I was on the sofa waiting for Sam to return from Kate’s while Tom was shopping. Her ancient automobile pulled into our driveway around 5 p.m., as usual.
Kids in our neighborhood stole little items a time ago. Tom installed a nice security system with a front-door camera that alerted us on TV if anything moved.
“It’ll keep us safe, Em,” Tom stated after installing it. “Our phones have an app that shows the same thing as the TV.”
Nice tiny arrangement.
While waiting for Sam, the TV shifted from my cooking program to the porch feed while I drank coffee.
Kate and Sam stood at the door.
Kate handed Sam a tiny package of cookies. “See you next week. You know what to do…
I saw Sam’s face and shoulders slump.
He was slow to respond.
“Mom, I don’t want to,” he replied, shaking.
My stomach twisted. I leaned closer to the television to catch every word.
Mom, tell them the truth! Sam’s bitter voice shattered. I detest lying to Dad, and they know. Dad would be furious if he finds out you have me steal goods from the home every week!”
“Stealing?” Whispering, my heart raced.
“And Em? She’ll notice her belongings disappearing. The shampoo and lotions… Mom, I can’t continue.”
I knew I was not dreaming! Lately, soaps, towels, and other little items were going too quickly. Now it was evident.
Sam took what else for Kate?
So what, Sam? Sharp-spoken Kate snapped. “They’re wealthy. I need Emily’s jewelry next. Selling a bracelet or ring will cover my bills.”
“What the heck?” Gasping, I covered my mouth.
“And grab some cash, honey,” Kate said. “Your dad keeps emergency bills in his nightstand. Helping mom is urgent.”
I couldn’t believe Kate was on my doorstep urging her kid to steal from us. Her chilly tone precludes debate.
I was overwhelmed with emotions, but Sam crushed my heart. My beautiful child, keeping this secret alone. No surprise he seemed distant. I got up and opened the door before thinking.
“Kate, hi,” I said calmly.
“Hey, Em,” Sam hugged, trembling.
Kate glanced at me without saying anything.
“I heard it all,” I replied.
Sam hugged me, breathing irregularly.
“What’s up, Kate?” I requested. “Tell me or I’m calling Tom. Please go to your room, Sam, honey.
Kate relaxed when Tom was mentioned. She detailed her struggles—debts, rent unpaid, and trying to support herself and Sam. She was desperate and worn out.
“I’ll send you money to help you get back on track,” I responded, stern but compassionate. “Sam stays until you’re steady. You won’t request this again. Got it?”
“He’s my son, Emily,” Kate stated sharply.
“Yes, your son, whom you teach to steal from his family. If this continues, I’ll file charges. Take the money, organize, and be Sam’s mom. Okay?”
Kate nodded, sagging.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“I’ll transfer the money tonight,” I said. “Send me your needs list.”
She nodded and left.
Sam hugged me as I opened the door to get my phone and find out how to hide this from Tom.
“Thank you,” he sobbed, drenching my shirt. I refused to take anything! So sorry, Em!”
“Oh, my sweet boy,” I hugged him, heartbroken. It’s OK now. I’m assisting your mom; we’ll fix this. I assure you.”
