Growin Up raising you

[Winston Family Values]

Well, shoot. Here we go again.

I know my sister is gonna likely throw hands without thinkin’ much about strategy. I got a bit more sense when it comes to keepin' the peace.

Now, don't get me wrong, I got a temper too, but I also got a knack for tryin' to smooth things over when they get too heated. I’m the kind of gal who'll throw a punch if I has to, but I'd rather use my words to settle things down first.

I know this is just business. I doubt this match is suddenly going to change our fortune none. But I’d be lying if I didn’t hope to at least this match show management we can do more then where we’ve been stuck.

I know ya’ll gotta a world full of opportunity ahead of you. When we come out swinging please don’t take it wrong. We just want to make things better for ourselves and our siblings.

I don’t have nothing against either of ya. But it’s gonna be a bit like a muddy brawl. May the best women win though, ya?

---

Jolene stood at the screen door, watching her sister, Dixie, sitting outside under the night sky. The faint glow of moonlight painted the scene with a silvery hue, accentuating the sparkle of the stars scattered across the vast expanse above.

Dixie sat with her knees drawn up to her chest, her gaze fixed upward, lost in the mesmerizing dance of the constellations. Her expression was one of serene contemplation as if she were unraveling the secrets of the universe with each twinkling light.

Jolene felt a pang of longing to join her sister, to share in the quiet wonder of the night. But something held her back, a reluctance to disturb the solitude of Dixie’s reverie.

Instead, she remained by the screen door, content to watch her sister in silent admiration. In that moment, surrounded by the stillness of the night and the boundless beauty of the cosmos, Jolene felt a deep sense of connection with her sister and the universe they both inhabited.

Dixie had spent their younger years havin’ to be both parents to their siblings. Pa was in and out of prison. Ma was crazier than a bag full of cats. Dixie had been the adult. Dixie had worked. Dixie had made sure everyone was fed, clothed, and went to school. Their childhood hadn’t been perfect, if anything it had been seven layers of fucked up. The neighbors had called em Winston brood. Dixie had been seven, Gretchen six, Jolene 5, Denny 4, and Birdie 3 when Pa was arrested the last time and never came home again. Ma had just laid in bed and cried. Jolene didn’t remember Pa much, just remembered she’d been relieved when she was told he wouldn’t be back.

It was too much for a kid to be responsible for, Jolene knew that now as an adult. But Dixie had done her best. College had been a dream for someone else. They’d barely be afford to keep the trailer paid. Now with the money from IWF they’d at least each gotten their own place. Gretchen had an apartment in town while Denny was renting a studio above the bar. Birdie had an apartment near Ricky, likely to be given up once she and Ricky got hitched. Jolene had stayed in the trailer park and just bought the one next door. As much as she wanted out of being white trash she couldn’t leave her eldest sister to just rot in the trailer park alone. Dixie had worked hard to keep the trailer and just hadn’t moved out.

Jolene knew she had men over pretty frequently, not that it was any of Jolene’s business. But seeing Dixie alone in the dark made Jolene feel a deep sadness for the things Dixie had given up.

---

Alright, y'all wanna know about Dixie Winston? Well, let me tell ya, I ain't one to back down from a good ol' scrap. So there I was, just minding my own business, when I see that management wants me and Jolene to be fightin’ Natasha and Rini.

Shit.

Now, you see, I ain't the kinda gal to let folks walk all over me, no siree. They might think they're all high and mighty, strutting around like peacocks, being in much bigger matches then me and mine could even bribe our way into but I reckon it's time they learned a lesson or two about messin' with Winstons.

I'll tell ya what, I ain't got time for their fancy talk and their snooty attitudes. So I squared my shoulders, cracked my knuckles, and decided it was high time to teach 'em a little southern hospitality, Winston style.

They might be besties, but they ain't never faced a girl like me nor my sister before. I'll be throwin' punches faster than a tornado rippin' through a trailer park, and they won't know what hit 'em.

So mark my words, them besties ain't gonna know what hit 'em when The Winston sister comes a-knockin'. It's gonna be a showdown they won't soon forget, and by the time I'm through with 'em, they'll wish they never crossed paths with this southern firecracker.