"Your sister is moving to New York?"
"Yeah."
"In three days?"
"Yeah."
"And she never told you she quit?"
"Apparently not."
"Fuck."
"Yeah."
We sit in silence. Polly refills both our glasses.
"That's a lot to take in, and it's not my family," she says.
"It is." I take a rather large gulp of my wine.
My phone buzzes again, Mom this time.
Mom: Have you seen the news?
Jo: Yes.
Mom: Those photos are everywhere. Poor Pierre.
Jo: I know. Collette just told me she's moving to New York.
Mom: I know. She called me last week. I'm glad she'll be with her brothers.
Last week. Everyone knew but me.
Jo: Me too.
Mom: How are you, sweetheart?
I stare at the message.How am I?I'm fine. My life is fine. Work is good. The flat is good. London is good.
Jo: I'm good, Mom. Don't worry.
Mom: I will always worry. I am your mother. I love you. Call me this weekend?
Jo: Will do. Love you too.
I set my phone down.
Polly is watching me. "Are you okay?" she asks.
"Yeah. Just ... processing."
"Your whole family is moving to New York."
"Not all of us."
"Just most of you." She smirks.
