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“I know the tone. Cough it up. What’s wrong? Do you need money?”
“Money? Miguel Lorenzo Mancini, I will rip you a new one!” she screams into the phone. “I don’t need your money. Can’t I just call to talk to my brother? Is that so hard to believe?”
She sounds like she’s on the verge of tears. Usually, when I say,do you need money, she laughs and tells me she needs a gazillion dollars. Something big must be bothering her to have her freaking out like this.
“Jenna, what’s wrong?” I ask softly.
“Miguel…” Her words tremble. She sounds so sad and it breaks my heart. “I’m getting married.”
“What?” I gasp. “Married?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
“Then why do you sound so damn sad? What’d he do?” I ask, sitting up.
If I book a flight now, I can leave out in the morning and be in Texas in less than two days. Or charter a private plane, leave tonight, and be there in less than twenty-four hours. That’ll give the schmuck who hurt her a head start before I send him to his maker.
“I want you in my wedding,” Jenna’s tiny voice breaks my thoughts.
“What?” Her words are confusing. “Why are you crying then?”
“Because I know you don’t want to be anywhere near mom!” She bursts into tears. A hysterical amount of crying.
“Jenna, you need to breathe,” I say softly, hoping my gentle tone will soothe her.
“But you–” She sniffles. “You hate mom!”
“I don’thatemom.”
It’s the truth. I don’thateher. We just don’t see eye-to-eye. Things weren’t always like this. I used to think the world of her, but then she had Jenna and things changed. My dad treated Jenna like the plague. He was cold towards her and I never understood why until I overheard my parents fighting. My mom had cheated on my dad and Jenna wasn’t his child.
Things changed at that point. My parents fought like cats and dogs then divorced. My mom married Hank– Jenna’s real dad. No offense to Hank. He’s a nice guy; however, my mom did my dad dirty and has refused to admit she was wrong. That’s the reason I ended up moving to Italy with my dad a few years after their divorce.
“Yes, you do. That’s why you are on a different continent,” she cries. “You two can’t be in the same room without one of you getting pissed off. Every. Single. Time.”
“Not every time,” I correct. “Besides, I haven’t been in the same room with her in five years or so.”
“I know,” she whimpers. “My high school graduation. That was the last time I saw you! You just hide out in Italy doing Lord only knows what. Is it so hard to ask you to come home and visit more often?”
I open my mouth to speak but don’t get a chance to talk.
“Well, is it? Huh?” Jenna continues. “Is it so hard to come home and see your baby sister? Or do you hate me too? It’s because I’m only your half-sister, isn’t it?”
Jenna begins to cry even harder than before. She’s a complete mess and I don’t know what to say to make it better. Well, that’s a lie. I know exactly what would end the waterworks; however, I’m not sure I want to commit to seeing my mother just to stop Jenna from crying.
“I try to be a good sister but I’m only half. So I guess I’m just not–” she sniffles.
“Stop crying,” I groan. “We don’t sayhalf. You know that. Youaremy sister. End of story.”
“But Miguel…”
“There aren’t any buts. I mean it, Jenna,” I say firmly. “When is the wedding?”
“In two months, but we have lots of planning to do and I’m having a bridal shower a month before the wedding. And also we are having a bridal party getaway. Youmustbe there. Promise?” she blurts.
“Well, that was a mouthful,” I mutter.
“Miguel, please. It will be fun. You can take time off from work. A month or so. It’ll be easy for you to put in vacation time. You’re the boss after all,” she says, fully confident in my ability to just up and leave work.
