Sometimes I wish I could get out of dinner with Dad, just to avoid having to see my younger half-siblings, and ex-stepmothers. We don't get along and it's hard to say if we ever will. However, I am not the eldest of my father's children. He has a son from his marriage before my mom. But Brian is four years older and doesn't want anything to do with Dad. His mother doesn't force him to see Dad now that he's over eighteen.

As my mother's only child, and I don't blame her, I am obligated to represent her. I know she still loves Dad and would probably take him back if he asked, but that is not happening any time soon. He's due for a new relationship, and that's probably what tonight's dinner talk is about because all the mothers are present. When Dad introduced Katrina, it was a similar situation.

"Put the book away, Izzy," Mom says as she enters the living room and finds me on the couch. "You can pick it back up tomorrow. Tonight is important to your dad."

"All dinners involving a conversation about Dad's marriages are important," I grunt, turning the page of The Rosie Project. "It's a pattern, Mom. I might not have been old enough to remember the Janine wedding, but I remember Katrina's. I believe she was already expecting Derek by that time... I don't think he will care much if I don't want to learn the name of someone new."

"Honey, I know it's hard to watch your father with someone new-"

I sigh and set the book aside to give full eye contact. "It's not just that, Mom. I was here through both divorces, and yours- even if I wasn't old enough to remember much. I don't think I can handle going through another one."

Mom frowns, but I can see the understanding in her eyes.

"Deb, can you help me in the kitchen!"

Dad's most recent ex-wife, Katrina, enters with oven mitts on her hands and apron around her waist. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a tight bun, but frizz makes it look like she has been mildly electrocuted. Her bold, red lip suggests she is trying to win Dad back, or maybe she wants him to see that she's thriving. I wouldn't know, I don't visit her house.

I don't know how my mom can stand to actually be friends with the woman, let alone with Janine. But I have learned that Mom is the kind of person who is extremely forgiving and, whether it is good or bad, she is a people pleaser. It is very hard for her to say "No."

"I'll be right there," Mom says, putting on a smile.

Katrina nods, but she doesn't leave; catching hints is not one of her strengths.

"I just need my mom for a couple more minutes, Trina," I say as politely as I can. "I'll send her straight to you, A-S-A-P."

She sighs, tilting her head to the side and frowning as if someone is hurting a puppy. And then she nods, walking back the way she came. I resist the urge to roll my eyes, because I have to remember she has two sets of twins under the age of eight and she is still getting through divorce aftermath.

"Everything will be okay," Mom says, giving me thumbs up before disappearing into the other room. "And don't be afraid to talk to your father about this. He values your opinion."

I reach for my book again, turning back to my recent page, and allowing myself to be swept away.

***

It is very strange to have all four adults at one table. As usual, Dad sits at the head so he can see all our faces. Sitting to Dad's right, my left, is my thirteen-year-old half-sister, Allison; Janine's eldest daughter. Mom is across from me with Katrina to her left. And at the foot of the table, to my right, is Janine. I always assumed that seat belonged to my mother, but Janine staked her claim. I guess it makes her feel she holds rank somehow. The younger kids, the ones with some kind of dinner etiquette, sit at their own table. And the youngest of the youngest are still in highchairs.

"So," Dad says, pushing his empty plate to the side and clasping his hands on the table. "I will have a more one-on-one conversation with the youngins another time. For now, Isabelle, Allison; I wanted to tell you that I have been seeing someone. I really think you will both like her."

"Rewind," I say, pushing my plate away and mirroring his stance. "What's her name? How did you meet her? Why do you think we will like her?"

Dad grins, "I know Annette from when I was in high school and met with her for coffee while I was visiting Grandpa. We've seen each other many times in the last few months and have dinner often. She loves doing crafts and she makes stuffed animals with yarn."

"I don't like either of those things," Allison mutters beside me.

You and me both, little sis.

I catch Mom's gaze, silently questioning her. She doesn't seem surprised as she looks at me with an encouraging smile. Oh, Dad must've spoken to her already.

"Does she have kids?" I ask slowly, slumping back into my chair and letting my hands fall to my lap.

"She has one son," Dad replies, nodding. "I haven't had the privilege to meet him yet, but I'm told he is around your age, Izz... Annette and her son are going to be moving down here next month. I would really like for you and Allison to be here when they arrive. The younger kids will have a different time to be introduced."

I look back at my dad, sighing heavily. Is there a chance this is the last time? A serial divorcee, like Dad, must have a limit on when they need to stop.

"If it is a weekend," I say, exhaling softly. "I don't mind being here and meeting Annette... Where will her son stay?"

"Well, he's made it clear he wants to stay near his father. I'm going to let him have the basement, and give him space and time to adjust... Izzy, thank you."

Don't thank me yet.

***

It's almost ten-thirty when Mom and I get home. We live on the second level of Exhausted, she tells me she's going to bed.

"See you in the morning, hon," she says, patting my shoulder as we go to our respective rooms. "Don't stay up too late."

"Yeah, yeah," I reply, waving at her as I reach my door. "Love you, Mom."

"Love you, too."

Mom kisses my cheek and disappears further down the hall to her bedroom. I go into mine and close the door, immediately hurrying to my computer desk and turning on the monitor. Everything is exactly as I left it, except the video I was uploading this morning has finished processing. I place my hand on the mouse and move the cursor to the digital notepad where I have pre-written a description.

"Copy," I mumble to myself as I press 'Crtl+C' on my keyboard. "And paste."

I then click the description box on my video upload and press Ctrl+V. It's the final step before I click the 'Publish' button. The browser redirects to the final webpage where my video is public. As per usual, I let the video play to make sure there isn't any glitches. Not every upload is smooth.

Hello, lovely bookish people! Welcome or welcome back to Izzy's Book Corner. I'm Izzy and today's video is about-

Shocked out of my focus, I pause the video to check my buzzing phone in my back pocket. When I look at the screen, I can't help my smile.

Jace: Are you still giving advice to teens of newly divorced parents?

Me: I believe I still meet the qualifications.

Me: How can I assist?

Jace: My mother dropped a shocker today. She's moving into her new boyfriend's place and I still haven't met the guy. Which means driving five hours any time I want to visit my dad.

Jace: It's on me for not meeting him, but it feels like things are moving so fast. The divorce was barely three months ago.

I lightly clench my teeth as I tap in my reply.

Me: I completely understand that.

Me: My dad dropped a similar bomb on me at dinner.

Me: And I was expecting it; I knew it was coming.

Me: I guess the only advice I can give you is to keep an open mind.

Me: If he makes your mom happy, that's what matters.

I set my phone down as I wait for a response. My freely given statement feels hypocritical as I read over my messages again. But his circumstances are very different from mine. His mother is not like my dad, she's only married once.

Jace: Yeah, I guess you're right. Well, I suppose I should let you know about something before my next video goes live.

Jace: Because I'll be moving with my mom, I won't get to make any videos for a while. I moved all of my stuff to my dad's place because I don't think there's room at the boyfriend's. He's got kids who stay with him sometimes.

Me: Oh, that's too bad.

Me: But you can keep your camera and use your mom's laptop, right?

Jace: No, it's her work laptop. If that breaks, she has to replace it herself.

Jace: Gotta go. I have an early start tomorrow and my mom is also giving me "The Look".

Me: No problem. I should be calling it a night, too.

Me: Sweet dreams, and keep your chin up. It will all work out.

Jace: Thanks, Izzy. ☺

I sigh happily at my phone, setting it down with the screen facing up. Jace's contact picture stares back at me. The funny thing is that it's not his face, but a large stack of books in front of his head. I know what he looks like because I watch his bi-weekly videos. I have a huge crush on him. Mom is always saying we shouldn't develop feelings for people we meet online, but times are different now. The internet wasn't the same when she was a teenager. None of the boys at school are interested in me. I've been turned down enough times to know none of them are worth my time. But Jace is different and if the chance ever arises, I want to meet him.