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I smack him in the chest to shut him up. “He’s joking; ignore him.”
“Sorry. I’ve been overly emotional lately. My hormones are all over the place.”
She wipes at her eyes, struggling to hold her pudgy babies. “Anyway, enough about me. How has the assignment been going? And don’t candy-coat anything. Give it to me straight. If I hear differently from Maceo, I’ll beat your sorry butts.”
There’s no point in sheltering Jo from any of the ugly. I tell her everything that’s happened since we’ve arrived onsite.
Jo is quiet for a moment. She gently places the boys back on the floor to play before she looks back at us. A deep crimson hue sweeps over her face as her lips curl over her teeth.
“Oh, shit. Mama Jo Bear is coming out,” Punk mumbles beside me.
“Fucking fuck. Goddamn motherfucker. Cock-sucking douche canoes!”
“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Calm, Sis.”
“I. Am. Angry. Don’t tell me to calm down, Punk.”
“No shit,” I laugh.
“I want to knee junk that treacherous leech’s micropenis into next week right before I throat punch the cunt who is being extra cunty to my sister.”
Punk and I are full-on belly laughing. I’m visualizing Jo going all Cornish Pixie on Trent and Cynthia. Gauging by how hard Punk is giggling, he must imagine something equally amusing.
After losing her cool, Jo closes her eyes and rubs her temples. “I’m coming to Sacramento.”
I sober quickly. “No, Jo. I didn’t tell you all this to upset you. You can’t come. You have the twins and your work. I can manage.”
My sister opens her coastal eyes, narrowed with doubt. “And what? Are you just going to hold your bladder for eight-plus hours a day so you won’t get accosted in the ladies’ room again? You need a woman to run interference who isn’t afraid to be mean.”
“We’re handling it,” Punk pipes in quickly. Neither of us wants Jo upset, especially while she’s pregnant. “Don’t worry about a thing.”
Jo folds her arms over her chest, shaking her head. Displeasure is etched all over her stiff posture and grim expression. She’s not going to drop the matter.
There’s a commotion in Jo’s background. “Pixie? I’m home. Come, give your man some love.”
I use the moment to end the FaceTime conversation. “Tell Atlas we say, ‘hello’. We’ll talk soon.”
I hit the end button right as Jo hollers for Atlas to join her in the living room.
Punk rubs the back of his neck. “Maybe we shouldn’t have told her everything.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered if she found out from us or someone else. She was going to be irate, regardless.” I turn my attention back to the movie, but my nerves won’t settle.
“You don’t think she’d show up here, do you?” Punk asks me.
I shake my head, trying to convince us both. “No. She has too much on her plate.”
But the nagging feeling building inside of my head begs to differ. If there’s one thing I know about my sister, she doesn’t let anyone hurt her family without repaying them in kind.
