My mother died when I was nine years old, and my father remarried four years later.
I want to say that clearly and without drama, because it will matter while understanding everything that came after.
Her name was Carol.
She came with a daughter named Brittany, who was 11 months younger than me.
The first time I realized exactly where I stood in the new family was only a few weeks after they moved in.
Dad had brought home takeout on a Friday night. There was one slice of cheesecake left in the box.