Turn My World Upside Down: Jo's Story (29 page)

Pulling free of him again, she took a step back and said, “Fine. Okay, even I know I can’t take the blame for all of this. But don’t you get it?” She slapped her chest. “I understand her. I know just where she is, because Melanie’s right where I was ten years ago. She’s scared. Ashamed. Alone.”

“You’re not that girl anymore.”

“No, I’m not. And I’m not afraid to take him on.”

Pride filled him as he watched her find her balance again. Find her strength. The woman had more spine than anyone he’d ever known.

“I want to help you in this.”

She almost smiled, a soft tug at the corner of her mouth. “Thanks, but this is something I have to finish alone.”

He felt a door slam in his face and realized that he was being shut out. And what’s more, he didn’t much like it. Made no sense, of course, because hadn’t he been trying to shut
her
out lately? Hadn’t he convinced himself to let her go so that when she left it would be on
his
terms?

But this was different.

“You don’t have to do every damn thing on your
own, Jo,” he said, with more control than he was feeling. “Alone’s not always everything it’s cracked up to be.”

“Is that right?” She looked him up and down, then frowned at him. “Well, if you think alone sucks so much—why are you so determined to stay that way?”

He didn’t have an answer for that one. Not that she’d have heard him if he had. While he stood there like a statue carved out of stupid, she turned on her heel and marched off to the house.

Leaving him more alone than he’d ever been.

“So what’re we gonna do about this?” Mike demanded from her spot on the couch.

“Yeah, assemble the warriors,” Sam cried, lifting one fist in a power salute. “Let’s go to the city and take this creep out.”

“Good plan,” Jo said, nodding. “Get the bazooka.”

Sunlight washed through the wide front windows of Mike’s house and lay in a thick slice of gold across the matching green sofas that sat facing each other. The area rug beneath the couches looked like a life raft on the imaginary sea created by the cool blue tiles on the floor.

Jo paced a wide circle around that area rug, shooting her sisters occasional eye rolls as the two women shouted out ideas on how to kill Steve Smith and get away with it. Tempting. Too damn tempting. The heels of her polished work boots rang on the cool blue tiles as her mind raced along, looking for ideas. Hell,
any
idea would do. Okay, an idea that wouldn’t put them all in jail for the rest of their young lives.

It had been three days since Melanie’s visit and Jo
had hardly slept. She kept worrying about the other woman. Was she safe? Had her bastard of a husband beat the shit out of her again? And what could Jo do about it?

“Come on, we should be able to do
something
about this guy,” Mike complained.

“Don’t see what,” Jo said, stopping suddenly to drop onto the end of the couch. Lifting both feet, she rested them on the coffee table and crossed them at the ankles. “If we go busting in, then Rat Boy’s going to know that Melanie’s been talking. Which won’t make life any easier on her.”

“True, but—”

“No buts. We can’t do this
for
her.” Jo studied the shine on her boots and faced the one truth she hadn’t been able to shake. “If Melanie’s not ready to leave, there’s no way we can do anything about it.”

“Fine, if you’re going to use logic,” Mike sniffed. “Hand me that cookie, will you?”

“Aren’t you afraid you’re gonna pop?” Jo asked, reaching for the snickerdoodle and tossing it to her sister.

“Actually, I’m sort of hoping I
do
,” Mike whined around a bite of cookie. “Shelley says I could go any day, but the babies are
so
not cooperating.”

“Apparently they didn’t get their patience from
you
. Just don’t give birth at my graduation, okay?”

“Oh please.” Mike snorted, licked one finger and used it to snag the crumbs off her bodice. “I want a hospital and
lots
of drugs.”

“All right, you two, back on track,” Sam said, reaching for Jo’s thick work binder. “If we can’t save the
world, or kick a deserving ass, we should at least figure out the jobs for this week.”

Jo’s eyes bugged out and she made a panicked lunge for the binder. “Give me that.”

Sam pulled it away and out of reach. “God, you are so freaking territorial. Take it easy, will you, I just—” Her voice faded away as she pulled a loose sheet of paper from the binder. “Hmm. Someone seems to have written the word ‘Cash’ a few hundred times. Now what do you suppose that’s about?”

Jo snatched the paper, crumpled it into a tight ball in her right fist, and felt her cheeks flush as both sisters stared at her. “I was worried about cash flow. I was
working
. Doing the spreadsheet. Figuring out the bills . . .”

They were nodding, smiling—okay,
smirking
.

“Fine,” Jo muttered, stuffing that wad of paper in her jeans pocket. “I wrote his name.
Shoot me
.”

“Ah,” Mike said on a dreamy sigh, “pit bulls in love.”

“Pregnant or not, you watch it, twit.”

“And is Cash writing
your
name on
his
homework, too?”

“You know,” Jo said, glaring at Sam, “
you
were the sister I actually liked.”

“Uh-huh,” Sam said, clearly unconcerned with the sarcasm—and why wouldn’t she be? The Marconi girls had gotten their sarcasm inoculation as children. “You’re avoiding the question. Does Cash Hunter feel the same about you?”

“You know,” Jo said, slumping farther into the feather-soft couch, until it looked as though she were
being swallowed by the cushions. “Sometimes there’s a
reason
for avoiding questions.”

“So he doesn’t love you?”

Jo glared at Mike. “Who said anything about
love
?”

“I think you did,” Sam pointed out.

“God, why was I cursed with know-it-all sisters?”

“Just lucky?” Mike ventured.

“That can’t be it,” Jo said. “Trust me.”

“Well,” Sam snapped, “he’s clearly not good enough for you.”

“Thanks for that anyway.”

“What the hell’s wrong with him?” Mike wanted to know.

“How much time have you got?” Jo snarled, crossing her arms over her chest in self-defense, though she knew it was a useless gesture against her sisters.

“How much time do you need?” Sam asked.

The small, hard ball of hurt and misery inside her slowly deflated into a puddle of goo. They were willing to sit and moan with her. Willing to listen to her talk even if it took
days
. Damn it. Just when she thought Mike and Sam were about the most annoying human beings on the face of the earth, they went and did something nice. Something touching. Something . . .

“I’m in
love
.” Jo reached up and yanked at her hair in frustration over her own stupidity. “In love with
Cash Hunter
.”

“Yeah,” Mike said. “We got that much.”

“The question,” Sam asked, “is what’re you gonna do about it?”

“What the hell am I supposed to do about it?” Since she couldn’t sink any farther into the couch, she gave up on it altogether and leaped to her feet instead. Immediately,
she felt better. She was through hiding away from what she was feeling. Never again was she going to bury herself under a blanket of lies and secrets. “Why do
I
have to do
anything
about it?”

“Atta girl. Don’t go after what you want. Stand here and complain.” Mike choked out a laugh and stretched her hand toward the last couple of cookies.

“Who’s complaining?” Jo asked, shoving the plate of cookies closer to Mike.

Her youngest sister blinked, shook her head, then thumped the heel of her hand over her ear. “Geez . . . sounded like you.”

“Funny.”

“Did you tell Cash?” Sam asked.

“Why the
hell
would I do that?”

“Uh, so he’d
know
?”

“Like I want him knowing. For God’s sake, he’s made it perfectly clear he didn’t want a ‘relationship,’ and Lord, I hate that word.” Jo bent down, grabbed up one of the cookies and took a bite.

“Hey!” Mike shouted.

Jo ignored her. “He says he ‘healed’ me and now I should go away.”

“He
what
?”

“Thank you,”
Jo said to Sam. “Exactly how
I
felt.”

“Just how did this mystical healing take place?” Mike wondered.

Scowling, Jo took another bite of cookie. “I went back to his place. Forced him to have sex with me again—”

“Forced him?”
Mike interrupted. “Did he cry?”

“You really do love the sound of your own voice, don’t you?” Jo finished off the cookie and reached for
another, but Mike was too quick for her and grabbed up the last three, as if she were a survivalist planning on not getting another meal anytime soon. “The point,” Jo said, “is that this time, I, uh, you know, I . . .”

“Saw fireworks?”

“Exactly.” Jo pointed a finger at Sam, as if she’d just won the grand prize on
Jeopardy
. “So anyway, I’m all, This is great, and Hey, fabulous, and really trying to not say anything stupid like ‘I love you, you big moron,’ when he pulls out the ‘We’ve had sex and now you’ll leave to join the Peace Corps’ thing.”

“To give him his due,” Sam said, “that
is
what most women who’ve been with him have done.”

“Yeah, but
I’m
not most women, am I? I’m not going anywhere. And I told him so.”

“No doubt in quiet, genteel tones,” Mike guessed.

“Cute.”

“And he said . . . ?” Sam asked.

“He said I should go now, because I’d be going eventually anyway, so basically, Here’s your hat, what’s your hurry?”

“Bastard.” Sam scowled in disgust.

“Totally,” Mike agreed.

“Moron,” Jo said, feeling that wadded-up paper with her squiggled words of affection burning a hole in her jeans pocket.

“So,” Sam said, “do you still want him?”

“I’m just stupid enough to, yes,” Jo admitted, though the truth was so galling she wanted to spit.

“Then you’re going to have to take the risk and tell him how you feel.”

Humiliation rose up inside her and Jo could feel her
stomach twist into tight little knots of
defiance
. There had to be an easier way.

“He’s not interested,” she said.

“You don’t know that,” Sam said.

“He told me so himself.”

“He didn’t know you love him.”

“It won’t make a difference,” she said stubbornly. “If anything, it’ll just make him push me away even faster.”

“His loss then.” Sam held one hand out in front of her. “But you’ll never know for sure if you don’t try.”

“Amen,” Mike said, laying her hand on top of Sam’s. “And if he’s really too dumb to see how great you are and how good you’d be together, then he’s
so
not good enough for you.”

Jo looked at the two women in the world who meant everything to her. Unfailing loyalty. Unquestioning love. This was family. This was what Cash couldn’t seem to get. And maybe she could understand why.

But that didn’t mean she was willing to let him blow off a future because he didn’t like his past.

Laying her hand on top of her sisters’, she said, “Okay. I’ll tell him. I’ll make him listen to me if I have to hit him in the head with a hammer.”

“Atta girl,” Mike snorted. “Use your charm.”

Jo ignored her. “Then when I’ve had my say, if he still won’t wake up and see what we could have together . . . I’ll be the one to let
him
go.”

Waiting to hear from Melanie Smith was making Jo nuts.

She felt as if she were stuck in neutral, her engine revving, but there was nowhere to go. She couldn’t face down Steve Smith and she couldn’t have it out with Cash, either. Well, she could, but she wasn’t going to. Not until she had her life in order. She wanted her past cleaned up and disposed of before facing down the man who could be her future.

Lying out in the cool grass of the Marconi family backyard, she stared up at a wide, starlit sky. Behind her, she could hear the homey sounds of Nana fussing around in the kitchen and the low-pitched hum of the television as her father no doubt fell asleep in his recliner. Jack was probably upstairs doing his homework and she should be inside writing up the bid on the Stevenson job.

And yet . . .

She couldn’t help worrying about Melanie, and besides, from a completely selfish point of view, she wanted this finished. So she could go deal with Cash.

Maybe he would still tell her to go. Maybe he wouldn’t be interested in knowing she loved him. But by God, he was going to have to listen to her. The man
couldn’t become a part of her life and then walk away without at least letting her say her piece.

“Who’re you mad at?”

Jo tipped her head back on the grass and got an upside-down view of her little brother strolling across the yard toward her. His jeans were too baggy, his hair too long, and his sneakers looked as though Bear had been chewing on them again.

“Who says I’m mad?”

“Your foot’s tapping hard on the ground. Usually you only do that when you’re mad.”

“Hmm.” Geez, Cash didn’t even have to be in the vicinity to affect her temper. She deliberately stilled her right foot, stared up at the sky again and said, “You’re way too smart.”

“Yeah, I know. My teacher says I’m gifted.”

She laughed as he stretched out in the grass beside her. “Is that right? Well hey, I think that’s a first for the Marconis.”

“What’cha lookin’ at?”

“Just the stars,” she said, lifting one hand to point. “There’s Mars.”

“Yeah? How do you know?”

“Because Mars is called ‘the Red Planet.’ But from here, it only looks a little yellow-orangish, see?”

“Yeah.” He leaned his head against her shoulder and kept looking. “Know any other ones?”

Thoughts of Cash and Melanie drifted away. “Um, that’s Jupiter there and way over there? That’s Saturn.”

“The one with the rings.”

“Hey,” she said, giving him a nudge in the ribs, “you
are
gifted.”