Chapter 22 Fuck
Chapter twenty-two
Fuck
Jo
Why am I at Giddy Ups on a Wednesday?
That’s a valid question.
One, Sadie is sick and was screaming her head off all evening.
Two, everyone I asked to hang out was busy.
And three, on Wednesdays, Giddy Ups apparently has half-priced margaritas. I didn’t know that before I came, but it’s definitely a perk.
I’m already on number two.
Jack and Dylan both stayed late at the shop to have a meeting or something. I asked all of my other siblings to hang out, but they all had other things to do.
Or maybe they just didn’t want to go out drinking on a Wednesday. That’s probably a Jo thing.
I’ve been doing my best to keep myself busy. Between work and my huge family, you’d think that would be easy, but I still have more downtime than I would like.
I tried to take a hike through the mountain trails, but I could barely breathe. I guess my every now and then cigarettes were doing more damage than I thought.
I look down at the nicotine patch on my arm. The damn thing doesn’t seem to be doing anything. Maybe that’s why I’ve been so cranky.
And why I’m desperate to keep myself busy.
I watch one of the large TVs behind the bar. Baseball is on. I don’t care too much about America’s pastime, but I have to admit those pants that they wear are doing a whole hell of a lot for me.
As I stare at their asses, I realize that I’m no better than a man.
Someone slides onto the barstool next to mine.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he greets. “Can I buy you a drink?”
I look down at my margarita which is still over half full. “Uh, no thanks. I’m good.”
I look over at his face. He has slicked back hair and pointed features.
“How about when you finish that one.”
I can already tell this guy is going to be a problem.
“Look, I don’t want to lead you on here. I’m not interested.”
“Why not, sweetheart? From what I hear, you’ll give it up to practically anyone.”
“Excuse me?”
Is this guy serious?
Another guy comes over to step in between the two of us.
This one doesn’t seem nearly as sleazy.
“Get lost, pal. She’s not interested.”
The guy gives us both a dirty look and then scoffs, “Whatever.”
I look at the other man who is still standing next to me. “Are you always so chivalrous?” I ask.
“Well–”
“You know, I didn’t need your help,” I spit.
“I didn’t think you did. I just know that guy and know he’s a jerk.” He gives me a weak smile. “I’ll leave you alone.”
He goes to walk away, and I realize how much of an ass I’m being.
“Wait,” I stop him. “Sorry. I’m a little cranky.”
“Rightfully so. I’d be cranky too if I was getting hit on by lowlife guys.”
“Can I buy you a drink as a peace offering?”
He smiles. “Only if it comes with a game of pool.”
I’m really not in the mood, but I figure maybe doing something fun will help bring me out of my funk. Reluctantly, I get off my stool and follow him to the pool tables.
Much to my surprise, this guy doesn’t come on too strong. We just make some pleasant small talk. I learn his name is Alex, and he’s a welder. He’s nice enough and attractive by most standards, but I feel absolutely nothing.
No heat. No sparks.
At this point, I’m wondering if my vagina is broken.
Maybe she took a hiatus with my libido.
When Alex goes to the bathroom, I pull out my phone to check for anything I might have missed.
Nothing.
Go figure.
As I’m opening the farming game I like, I feel someone grab ahold of my ass.
Whipping around, I say, “Is it asshole night at Giddy Ups or what?”
Staring back with a smug grin is Russ Parker, a jerk I went to high school with.
“Look who’s back. Little Jo Lawson.”
“Why the fuck are you grabbing my ass?”
“Everyone else has. I figured why not me?”
“Uhm, because you’re repulsive.”
We start circling each other like two predators stalking their prey.
“The Lawsons,” he begins. “I guess you’ve officially taken the title of the biggest Lawson loser. And that’s saying something considering one sibling got raided by the IRS.”
This guy.
“One sibling knocked up a slutty tattoo artist.”
My jaw clenches.
“One sibling hooked up with her daughter’s teacher.”
I’m trying so hard to keep my cool.
“And Ronnie? Ronnie has slept with everything that has a pulse.”
“She hasn’t slept with you,” I spit.
He takes a step toward me, and I realize we’ve drawn a crowd.
“And little Jo. She comes back to town, and the one friend she used to have wants nothing to do with her anymore. And that’s just sad because Beau is still the same nerdy pussy loser he’s always been.”
That’s it.
Without warning, I grab an empty beer bottle. Holding it by the neck, I crack it on a table, leaving a sharp, jagged half the bottle, and I hold it to Russ’ throat.
“Listen here, you limp dick motherfucker. If you ever talk about Beau or my family again, I’ll cut your fucking heart out.”
He gives a scared little nod, and I throw the bottle down.
As I turn away, he says, “Jo. Just as fucked in the head as ever.”
Swinging back around, I pull my fist back and lunge forward, connecting with his jaw. I’m about to get a second hit in, when someone grabs my wrist.
Looking back, I see none other than Sheriff Swift.
Fuck.
***
“Joanna, come on. You can make your phone call,” the sheriff says to me from outside my cell.
I get up to follow him out. I consider making a snide comment about how ridiculous it is that I'm in here, but I fear if I do that, he will revoke my phone call in the blink of an eye. So, I keep my lips tightly sealed.
I step in front of the ancient telephone, and it suddenly occurs to me that I don’t have anyone’s phone numbers memorized.
Not a fucking one.
All the numbers I had memorized when I was a kid were all landline numbers, and all of my family has upgraded to cell phones only. The only number that seems to be in my brain box is the one to the shop. I remember it from reciting it on so many people’s voicemails.
I dial the number and pray to God someone answers. Surely, someone in my family is still there. But as the line gets to about the fifth ring, I start to lose hope.
Fuck.
Just when I’m about to hang up, someone picks up.
“Jack’s Auto Shop. This is Beau.”
“Beau!” I cry.
“Jo?”
“Yeah. Are any of my brothers still there?”
“No, everyone already left. I’m the only one here.”
“Okay, I know you hate me, but I need you to do me a huge favor. I need you to go find one of them or someone–anyone–from my family. Tell them I need them to come get me.”
“Where are you?”
I sigh. “Jail.”
“Jail? Why are you in–”
“Beau! I don’t have time to explain. Just please find one of the freaking hundred Lawsons around and tell them I need help.”
“Okay, okay. Just hang tight.”
Before I can thank him, he’s already hung up.
The sheriff wastes no time in escorting me back to the holding cell. I’m the only one in here tonight, and the only sound is the chatter from the police scanner. Clearly, nothing is happening because one officer just radioed into the sheriff to see if he wanted anything from the gas station.
I lie down on the hard wooden bench inside my cell and wait for help to arrive. While most people may worry that the guy who hates them might leave them in here just to teach them a lesson, I know Beau won’t do that. No matter how much he dislikes me at the moment, he would never be so vindictive.
While I wait, I think about my outburst that landed me here.
While maybe I shouldn’t have reacted the way that I did, I am not sorry I did it.
Russ deserved way more than what I did to him.
And quite frankly, I think bringing me in for just punching the guy was a bit excessive.
Now, if I had actually stabbed him with the bottle, fine. But I didn’t.
I think that shows tremendous restraint.
Still, I should have reigned in my crazy. It didn’t do me any favors.
Once again, I need to find a happy medium between fun Jo and wild Jo.
I have no idea how long I lie here, going back and forth between patting myself on the back and wanting to kick my own ass.
Finally, the sheriff says, “Joanna, you’re free to go.”
“You’re letting me go?”
“Your bail has been paid. You’ll receive a desk appearance to come in and pay your fine or be sentenced to community service.”
I jump up, ready to get the fuck out of here. Hurrying past the sheriff, I walk to the front of the station. I’m expecting to see Dylan or maybe Jack.
But the only person standing there is the one person that I didn’t want to see.
Beau.