Turn My World Upside Down: Jo's Story

by Maureen Child

  But she didn’t understand—nobody did. Not even Grace. And now that she was engaged, for God’s sake, to Hank Marconi, she was further from siding with him than ever.

  But Grace didn’t matter. It was Jo who had to see what he meant. How he felt. And he didn’t know how in the hell to make her see. He remembered exactly why he’d avoided getting close to anyone since losing Diane and her son in college. He’d loved them both with everything he had in him, and when she left him, when she took her child and walked away, Cash had felt as if he’d lost a limb. As if his body, his soul, had been hollowed out.

  It had taken months and months to recover, and at times, he’d doubted he ever would. Everything he’d wanted his whole life, he’d finally found with Diane. And then suddenly, it was all gone again.

  When he’d at last reclaimed his life, he’d made a vow to never care that deeply for anyone again. To never again risk that kind of loss. That kind of pain.

  Now, those feelings were back and deeper, stronger, than they’d been so long ago. What he felt for Josefina was so much bigger than what he’d been capable of back then, that he knew the pain of losing her would be commensurate. Bigger. Harder. Enough to kill him. Losing her now was hard. Losing her later was unthinkable.

  What kind of idiot was he that he hadn’t noticed what had been happening? How had Josefina and her brother become such an integral part of his life? And what the hell could he do about it now?

  The rest of his life stretched out in front of him, emptier than he wanted to think about. There would be no Marconis making him nuts. No more Josefina, spitting fire one minute and kissing him brainless the next. No more Jack, laughing and driving him nuts in the workshop.

  “You ruined everything!”

  Startled, Cash turned and watched a furious little boy rushing at him. God, he’d been so wrapped up in his own misery, he hadn’t even heard the kid coming. Pushing to his feet, he was standing when Jack charged him. The cast on his left arm, covered now with names and drawings and fraying at the edge, caught Cash in the center of his chest and the air left him in a whoosh.

  “Jack.” He grabbed the boy and held him still, though the kid was such a mass of fury and emotion, it was like trying to keep hold of a handful of Jell-O.

  “Lemme go,” he shouted, kicking out and nailing Cash’s shin with unerring accuracy.

  “Hey!” He released him instantly, then reached down to rub his leg. “What’s going on?”

  The boy was neat and clean. His hair had been cut, his jeans actually fit him, he was wearing a blue shirt with a collar, and it looked as if he’d finally gotten a new pair of sneakers. But his pale blue eyes, so much like his older sister’s, were filled with hot, angry tears and a flush of temper stained his cheeks.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Jack demanded. “You messed up everything.”

  Confusion rattled in Cash’s mind, but dealing with a Marconi always produced that reaction. “You want to tell me what I did?”

  “You made Jo cry.”

  Ah God. “Jack . . .”

  “No!” The boy gave him a one-armed push that didn’t budge him an inch. “It was all gonna be great. Me’n Jo were gonna live here with you and you guys would get married and I could work on the furniture with you and we’d go to my ball games and—”

  Cash’s heart took a nosedive. While the adults had been dancing around each other, a little boy had been building dreams. And God, he remembered all too clearly how precious a little boy’s dreams were. How easily shattered. How devastating when grown-ups paid no attention to their destruction.

  Jo’d been right about this, too, he thought grimly. He’d become friends with a lonely little boy, then when things got complicated, he’d bailed. He’d done exactly what had been done to him as a kid. He’d turned his back on affection in favor of clinging to fear. He’d let Jo walk away when everything in him had wanted to beg her to stay.

  He’d let pain become his anchor instead of hope.

  “Jack,” he said, going down on one knee in the still-damp grass. “I’m really sorry.”

  “Sorry doesn’t matter.” His voice broke and Cash wasn’t sure which of them was more shattered by the sound.

  “I heard Jo talking to Mike and Sam the other night at Mike’s house.” Jack was talking again, one word tumbling after the other, in a torrent that seemed to be pouring directly from his bruised heart. “She said that you didn’t say you love her. Why didn’t you say it?”

  Cash dipped his head, avoiding the hurt in those eyes, and viciously rubbed the back of his neck. The kid had hit it right on the nose. He had ruined everything. He’d had a shot at something great. Something real. And he’d let it slip through his fingers.

  “I know you love her. I saw you kissing and stuff.”

  “Jack,” he started, then stopped, not knowing what the hell to say next. How to explain to a kid that adults got scared, too? How to tell a little boy that the man he admired had less courage than he did himself?

  “My mom used to tell me every day,” Jack rushed on, not giving him a chance. “She said ‘I love you’ were the most important words in the world. She said everybody knows that. How can you be a grown-up and not know that?”

  “It’s not that easy, Jack,” he said, wearily getting to his feet as the boy stormed at him. Tears spilled over onto flushed cheeks and the kid’s breath huffed like a steam engine.

  “Sure it is,” he said, wiping his nose with his forearm and frantically blinking away the tears. “Jo loves you, Cash. I heard her. She told Mike she loves you.”

  Something inside Cash shattered, splintered into thousands of jagged shards that tore at his soul, his heart, leaving him bleeding. God. She did love him. He’d seen it in her eyes. Heard it in her voice. And hadn’t wanted to trust it. Hadn’t wanted to let go of old pains long enough to grab a chance at joy.

  I love you. He’d never said those words . . . to anyone. Not even to Diane. He’d held them back, waiting, always waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under his feet. He’d locked away his heart, then blamed everyone else for not wanting it.

  “You ruined it, Cash,” Jack said, his voice now a painful hush. “And you made Jo cry. A lot. She’s graduating today and she should be happy, but she’s not. ’Cause of you.”

  Graduation day?

  “I’m a Marconi and Jo says Marconis stick together.” Jack lifted his chin and glared up at the man who’d let him down so completely. “So I had to come here and do this.”

  He bunched his good right hand into a small, tight fist, then slammed it into Cash’s stomach. It wasn’t much of a blow, but pain shot through him anyway, right down to the soles of his feet.

  “I hate you for making Jo cry.” Jack turned and ran around to the front of the house.

  Cash didn’t move fast enough to stop him, but he was in time to watch as the hurt little boy climbed onto his bike and rode off in a hurry, spraying up dirt in a rooster tail behind him.

  The kid was right. He had ruined everything.

  Which meant that it was up to him to fix it.

  “Ohmigod!”

  Lucas dropped to his wife’s side. “What is it, are you okay? Is it the babies?”

  “No, no.” Mike waved him off irritably. “I just saw my feet for the first time in three weeks.” My ankles look like tree trunks! And I’m talking redwood here, not aspen.”

  “Jeez, give me a heart attack,” Lucas muttered, collapsing into the gunmetal-gray folding chair beside her. “You shouldn’t have come today.”

  “Right.” She snorted. “Like I’m not going to see Jo graduate.” From her uncomfortable perch on the uncomfortable metal chair, Mike looked up at her family, all of them trying to spot Jo through the rampaging crowd. Thank God, everyone had been seated during the actual graduation ceremony, or Mike wouldn’t have been able to see a thing. “She looked great, didn’t she?”

  “Yeah,” he agreed, covering her hand with his. “She did good.”

  Mi
ke grabbed hold of his hand and held on. “Damn right she did, and she didn’t need that dumb SOB here, either.”

  “Give it a rest, Mike,” Lucas sighed.

  “Give it a rest?” She blinked at him, eyes wide, mouth hanging open in stunned shock. “Hello, have you met me? Mike Marconi?”

  “Gallagher,” he added with a smile.

  “Okay, yeah, you’ve met me.” She smiled back at him and wondered if falling in love had really mellowed her out. God, she hoped not. She really liked . . . “Ow.”

  “Ow?” He went pale. “Ow what?”

  “Nothing. Just a backache. It’s these crummy chairs . . .”

  “You’re sure.”

  “Course I’m sure.” Sort of. A few pains. A couple of twinges. All normal when you’re carrying around, like, a bazillion extra pounds of weight. Right? She was fine . . .

  Changing the subject, she reached out and tugged on her father’s shirt. “Do you see her, Papa?”

  “Too many people,” he grumbled, then helped Grace stand on one of the hideous chairs so she could see over the heads of the crowd.

  “Issa no good for you, Michaela, so many people with the bambinos so close.” Nana leaned over her, planting both aged hands on Mike’s belly, as if communing with the children inside. “Issa too much.”

  “That’s what I told her,” Lucas complained.

  “You’re a gooda boy,” Nana pronounced.

  “I’m not going home,” Mike said to no one in particular, then muffled another groan as a sharper pain shot from her backbone straight through the center of her. She was only surprised it didn’t dart right out through her belly button like a bolt of lightning.

  “What?” Nana’s radar was on high alert.

  “Nothing,” Mike lied. “It’s nothing.”

  “There she is,” Grace shouted, and started waving both arms high in the air while screaming, “Josefina! Over here!”

  “Gonna make a fine Marconi out of her,” Mike said, approving of the near hysterical shouting, but no one was listening.

  “Aunt Mike.” Emma squeezed out from her father’s grasp and plopped down on Lucas’s lap. “Did you see my new puppy?”

  “Sure did, kiddo.”

  “She’s so soft, feel.” Emma held the squirming golden retriever puppy out to receive a pet.

  “I can’t believe your mom let you bring the puppy.”

  “She couldn’t stay home,” Emma said, horrified at the idea. “I just got her yesterday, she woulda been scared without me.”

  Emma’s face was wreathed with that ferocious fire of puppy love.

  “What was I thinking?”

  “Emma?” Sam’s voice, worried, carried over the laughing, shouting, talking people. “Where’s Emma?”

  “She’s here,” Mike called back.

  “Emma, don’t you go anywhere. Stay right by Aunt Mike.”

  “I’ve got her,” Lucas yelled, wrapping one arm around his niece’s waist for good measure.

  “Where’s Jo?” Mike demanded, getting really tired of her view. All she could see were butts. Denimcovered, silk-covered, wide ones, narrow ones, fat ones, and toned ones. People talked, people moved around, and here she sat, trapped by her own humongous weight, unable to stand on her tree trunks to join the crowd. Stuck in this chair, she wouldn’t be able to see Jo unless her sister were kneeling in front of her.

  “Here she comes, here she comes!” Grace shouted louder, waved her arms, then wrapped one arm around Papa’s neck for balance. Still shouting, she called out a description. “Oh, Mike, she looks so happy! She’s carrying the flowers you gave her, Henry. And—Oh dear.”

  “What?” Mike shouted.

  “Did you see that?” Sam demanded. “Jeff, go hit him!”

  “Hit who?” Mike slapped her father’s back, trying for information.

  “I’m not going to hit the poor guy,” Jeff was saying. “I know what it’s like dealing with Marconi women.”

  “Amen,” Lucas shouted.

  Mike glared at the man she loved. “Will somebody tell me what the hell’s going on?”

  “It’s Cash,” Jack yelled, and pushed through the crowd of family members to come to Mike’s side. Leaning down, his grin was wide and excitement danced in his eyes. “Cash came. He went up to get Jo and started pulling her away, but she was pulling back and then she hit him with the flowers.”

  “She did?” Damn. And she’d missed it.

  “Twice,” Jack said, holding up two fingers just in case she missed his shout.

  Mike loved it and wanted to know more. Quickly, she urged the kid up onto the chair next to her. “Get up there, little brother. Give me a blow-by-blow description.”

  “A what?”

  “You know, like on Monday Night Football? A play-by-play. Pretend you’re John Madden,” Mike urged, ignoring her husband telling her to butt out. Like any Marconi was going to butt out of this. Hah!

  “Okay—” Jack jumped a little and held on to his father for stability. “I see ’em.”

  “What’re they doing?” Mike yelled, absently wiping puppy drool off her arm.

  “Jo’s yelling at him!”

  “Way to go, Josefina!” Sam crowed from the front of the crowd.

  “What’d Cash do?” Mike bit her lip as another, stronger pain hit her like a sledgehammer. Starting at the tips of her toes, it shot straight up her body until it funneled out the top of her head. Wow. Okay, that can’t be good. She took an experimental breath and didn’t pass out, so she figured she had a few minutes yet.

  “I wanna see,” Emma shouted, squirming on Lucas’s lap. “If Jack gets to see, I get to!”

  “Oh gross . . .” Jack groaned.

  “What?” Mike shouted, pain forgotten in her frantic need to know. “What’s happening?”

  “He’s kissin’ her!”

  “Fighting dirty,” Sam said.

  “Way to go, Cash,” Lucas called.

  “Now what?” Mike demanded, jamming an elbow into her beloved’s ribs.

  “He’s talking to her,” Jack said, a tone of hope in his voice.

  “Is she talking back?”

  “Nope,” Jack said, sounding just a little disappointed. “She’s shaking her head hard. Her dumb hat fell off.”

  “Mortarboards aren’t really hats,” Grace said.

  “Not the point,” Mike reminded her.

  “Oh, hey, he’s kissing her again,” Jack yelled.

  “That’s nice,” Emma sighed. “Like a fairy tale.”

  “Is she kissing him back?” Mike asked.

  “How do I tell?”

  She opened her mouth.

  “Michaela . . .” Papa’s warning voice rumbled out.

  “Fine, fine . . . Is she hugging him?”

  “Nope,” Jack yelled. “Oh, she just kicked him!”

  “Score one for our side,” Sam said, and leaned through the crowd to slap Mike’s upraised hand.

  “I wanna see Aunt Jo, too.” Emma crawled out of Lucas’s lap, and climbed onto the folding chair beside Jack. The little girl’s black patent-leather shoes were slippery, though, and when she fell, the puppy tumbled free and took off like a shot. The last anyone saw of her was a small white ball of fluff, darting between hundreds of pairs of legs.

  “Missy!” Emma’s squeal, pitched only slightly lower than a dog whistle, slammed through every head there. “Daddy, catch her!”

  Everyone moved at once. Jack jumped off the chair, helped Emma up, and threaded his way through the sea of people crowding around the graduates. Even from Mike’s vantage point, she saw people jump out of the way as the puppy careened past. A woman in a white sheath with violent purple pansies all over it stumbled back, crashing into a graduate, who then toppled onto an old man, knocking his walker into the fray. The walker caught another woman’s skirt and lifted it high enough for her to get the mother of all gooses.

  Then the rest of the family jumped into the fray. Jeff was already in pursuit of his daughter’s puppy
while Grace shouted directions to him and Sam was hanging on to Emma while the little girl sobbed her heart out. Lucas patted Mike’s hand and Mike tried to ignore the vise tightening around her middle.

  “There she is!” Grace shouted. “Just past the statue of the ugly thing!”

  Jeff took off at an angle, dodging people, keeping his gaze glued to the ground. He didn’t see the flower cart in time and did a head-first somersault before popping back up again like a circus acrobat.

  “Way to go, Jeff!” Grace yelled.

  “Go help.” Mike let go of Lucas’s hand and smiled at him. After a moment’s hesitation, he was off and running.

  “Left, Lucas, go left,” Grace called out, gesturing wildly with both arms now. “Head her off at the pass! Oh!” She winced. “That must have hurt, poor woman.”

  “Oh, Mommy, she’s gone, she’s gone!” Emma’s wail was reaching heights Pavarotti would have envied.

  Mike shifted on her chair and squeezed her eyes shut as one more pain soared through her body. When she got her breath back, she shouted, “What happened to Jo and Cash?”

  “I’m right here,” Jo answered, appearing out of nowhere, holding a bouquet of stems with a few battered petals still clinging to them. Her hair was a wreck, her mouth was all puffy from what must have been a heck of a kiss, and there was fire in her eyes—which to Mike’s way of thinking was way better than the misery she’d seen there earlier this morning.

  “Where’d everybody go?” Jo asked.

  “Chasing the puppy,” Sam said, still patting Emma’s back.

  “The puppy made a break for it,” Mike said, and rubbed her belly, as if trying to calm the kids down just a little.

  “She could be dying,” Emma screeched.

  Everyone winced.

  “Issa no good, all this excitement for Michaela,” Nana said, and crossed herself to show them all she meant business.

  “You okay, Mike?” Jo dropped into a chair next to her.

  “Sure. Fine.” She was breathing a little heavily but no way was she going to miss all of this.