They said there would be palm trees.
I didn't believe them at first, but that's what they said. They said I could see them from the plane.
Oh, I know Southern California has palm trees. I mean, I'm not completely insane. I've seen everything, including 90210. However, I was relocating to Northern California. I was surprised to see palm trees in Northern California. Not after my mother warned me not to donate all of my sweaters.
"Oh, no," my mother had exclaimed. "You'll require them. Your coats, as well. It can get quite cold there. Perhaps not as cold as New York, but still quite cold."
That's why I wore my black leather motorcycle jacket to the airport. I suppose I could have shipped it with the rest of my belongings, but wearing it made me feel better.
So there I was, sitting on the plane in a black leather motorcycle jacket, looking out the window at these palm trees as we touched down. And I thought, Wow. Palm trees and black leather. I'm already blending in, just as I expected... Not.
My mother dislikes my leather jacket, but I swear I didn't wear it to annoy her in any way. I'm not resentful that she chose to marry a man who lives three thousand miles away, forcing me to drop out of school in the middle of my sophomore year, abandon the best - and pretty much only - friend I've had since kindergarten, and leave the city I've lived in for sixteen years.
Oh, no. I'm not bitter at all.
The thing is, I adore Andy, my new stepfather. He's great for my mother. He brings her joy. He's also very nice to me.
It's just that moving to California bothers me.
Oh, and did I mention Andy's other three children?
They were all waiting for me when I stepped off the plane. Andy, my mother, and Andy's three sons. I call them Sleepy, Dopey, and Doc. They've become my new stepbrothers.
"Suze!" I wouldn't have missed them - my new family - even if I hadn't heard my mother squealing my name as I walked through the gate. Andy had his two youngest sons hold up a large sign that read, "Welcome Home, Susannah!" Everyone getting off my flight was walking by it, saying to their travel companions, "Aw, look how cute," and smiling at me in this sickening way.
Oh, yes. I'm blending in. I'm doing fantastically well.
"All right," I said, quickly approaching my new family. "You may now place the sign."
But my mother was too busy hugging me to notice. "Oh, Suzie!" she exclaimed repeatedly. I despise being called Suzie by anyone other than my mother, so I cast a mean look over her shoulder in case they had any wild ideas. They just kept grinning at me from behind the stupid sign, Dopey because he's too stupid to know any better, and Doc because - well, I guess he was glad to see me. Doc is odd in that way. The oldest, Sleepy, just stood there, looking... well, sleepy.
"How'd your flight go, kiddo?" Andy removed my bag from my shoulder and placed it on his own. He was taken aback by how heavy it was and said, "Whoa, what are you doing in here? Smuggling New York City fire hydrants across state lines is a felony."
I gave him a friendly smile. Andy is a big goof, but it's a nice big goof. He has no idea what constitutes a felony in the state of New York because he's only been there about five times. That was, by the way, the number of visits it took him to persuade my mother to marry him.
"It's not a fire hydrant," I pointed out. "This is a parking meter. I also have four more bags."
"Four?" Andy pretended to be stunned. "What are you thinking, moving in or something?"
Did I mention Andy believes he's a comedian? He isn't. He works as a carpenter.
"Suze," Doc exclaimed enthusiastically. "Suze, did you notice how the plane's tail kicked up a little as you were landing? That was caused by an updraft. It occurs when a mass moving at a high rate of speed collides with a counter-blowing wind velocity of equal or greater strength."
Doc, Andy's youngest child, is twelve years old, but he looks forty. He spent nearly the entire wedding reception telling me about alien cattle mutilation and how Area 51 is a big cover-up by the American government that doesn't want us to know that We Are Not Alone.
"Oh, Suzie," my mother kept repeating. "I'm delighted you've arrived. You're going to adore the house. At first, it didn't feel like home, but now that you're here... Oh, and don't leave until you've seen your room. Andy has done an excellent job of restoring it...."
Andy and my mother looked for a house big enough for all four kids to have their own rooms for weeks before they married. They eventually settled on this huge house in the Carmel hills, which they could only afford because they bought it in this completely wretched state, and this construction company Andy works for fixed it up at this huge discount rate. My mother had been harping on about my room for days, insisting that it is the best in the house.
"The view!" she exclaimed repeatedly. "A view of the ocean from your room's large bay window! Suze, you're going to adore it."
I was certain I was going to enjoy it. I was going to enjoy giving up bagels for alfalfa sprouts, and the subway for surfing, and all that sort of thing.
Dopey opened his mouth and said, "Do you like the sign?" in that stupid voice of his. I can hardly believe he's my age. But he's on the school wrestling team, so what do you expect? From what I could tell when I had to sit next to him at the wedding reception - I had to sit between him and Doc, so you can imagine how the conversation just flowed - all he ever thinks about is choke holds and body-building protein shakes.
"Yeah, great sign," I said, yanking it from his meaty hands and holding it so the lettering was facing the floor. "Can we leave? I want to get my bags before anyone else does."
"Oh, right," my mother replied. She hugged me one last time. "Oh, I'm so happy to see you! You look fantastic...." And then, even though you could tell she didn't want to say it, she did, in hushed tones so no one else could hear: "Suze, I thought I mentioned that jacket to you before. And I thought you were getting rid of those jeans."
I was wearing my oldest jeans, the ones with knee holes. They looked great with my black silk T and zip-up ankle boots. With the jeans and boots, my black leather motorcycle jacket, and my Army-Navy Surplus shoulder bag, I looked like a teen runaway in a made-for-TV movie.
But, hey, when you're flying across the country for eight hours, you want to be comfortable.
When I said that, my mother just rolled her eyes and dropped it. That's one of my mother's strengths. She does not harp like other mothers. Sleepy, Dopey, and Doc are unaware of their good fortune.
"All right," she replied. "Let's go get your luggage." Then, with a raised voice, she exclaimed, "Come on, Jake. We'll go get Suze's bags."
She had to call Sleepy by name because he appeared to have fallen asleep standing up. I once asked my mother if Jake, a senior in high school, has narcolepsy or a drug habit, and she said, "No, why would you say that?" As if the guy doesn't just stand there blinking and never saying anything to anyone.
That's not correct. He once said something to me. "Hey, are you in a gang?" he once asked. He asked me that at the wedding, when he caught me sneaking a cigarette outside in my leather jacket over my maid of honor's dress.
Give me a break, please. It was my first and last cigarette. At the time, I was under a lot of stress. I was afraid my mother would marry this man, move to California, and forget about me. Since then, I haven't smoked a single cigarette.
And don't get me started on Jake. He's a hottie, according to my best friend Gina, standing six feet one and sporting the same shaggy blond hair and twinkly blue eyes as his father. But, if you know what I mean, he's not the most gleaming rock in the rock garden.
Doc was still talking about wind speed. He was describing the speed at which it is necessary to travel in order to overcome the earth's gravitational pull. This is known as escape velocity. Doc seemed useful to have around for homework, even though I am three grades ahead of him.
I looked around while Doc spoke. This was my first trip to California, and even though we were only in the airport - San Jose International Airport - you could tell we weren't in New York any longer. First and foremost, everything was spotless. There is no dirt, litter, or graffiti anywhere. The concourse was also decorated in pastels, and you know how light colors show dirt? Why do you think New Yorkers always wear black? It's not cool. Nuh-uh. So we don't have to drag all of our clothes down to the laundromat every time we put them on.
But that didn't appear to be an issue in sunny California. Pastel colors, from what I could tell, were popular. One woman passed us wearing pink leggings and a white Spandex sports bra. That's all there is to it. If this is standard practice in California, I knew I was in for a culture shock.
And do you know what else was odd? There was no fighting. There were passengers lining up here and there, but they weren't yelling at the ticket counter attendants. If you're a customer in New York, you fight with the people behind the counter regardless of where you are - airport, Bloomingdales, hot dog stand. Wherever.
Not in this case. Everyone in this room was extremely calm.
And I suppose I can see why. I mean, there didn't appear to be anything to be upset about. The sun was beating down on those palm trees I'd seen from above. There were seagulls scratching around in the parking lot - not pigeons, but actual big white and grey seagulls. Nobody even checked to see if the stickers on my bags matched the ones on my ticket stubs when we went to get my bags. No, everyone just said, "Buh-bye! Have a wonderful day!"
Unreal.
Gina, my best friend back in Brooklyn; okay, my only friend, really, told me before I left that having three stepbrothers would be advantageous. She should know because she has four brothers - not steps, but real brothers. Anyway, I didn't believe her any more than I did the people who told me about the palm trees. But when Sleepy took two of my bags and Dopey took the other two, leaving me with nothing to carry because Andy had my shoulder bag, I realized what she meant: brothers can be useful. They can carry extremely heavy objects while appearing unaffected.
Hey, I packed those suitcases. I knew exactly what was in them. They weren't light at all. But Sleepy and Dopey were like, No worries here.
Let's get this party started.