Chapter 15
15
[Genie]
L ast night, Judd looked like he’d been watching a horror film when he told me about his father. He’d gone sheet white, and my heart broke into a million pieces. If only I’d known . But now I did, and it was one more piece of what I was learning was a complex puzzle named Judd.
I sat in his lap, feeling too comfortable, before I finally pulled myself from him and sat in my own chair again.
“Thank you for telling me,” I eventually said when there wasn’t much else to say.
We finished our wine. The sky outside was a deep black. The silence between us heavy.
Eventually, Judd excused himself. Between the time with his family and his confession it’d been a long day.
His siblings and their significant others were amazing but there had been a ribbon of tension around Judd and I the entire time we were present. Like we needed to keep up an act, when I didn’t feel like I was pretending anything.
Which surprised me. I’d been myself around the Sylvers. I am an affectionate person by nature, but selective in whom I touch. Touching Judd came easily. His family was funny and accepting. They seemed genuinely curious about me, my business, and Judd and I. Protective of him, rightfully so, but willing to give us a chance. I sensed that protectiveness was like a web, spanning wide over all the Sylver members, young and old, and I was curious what it would feel like to have someone else concerned about me.
I tossed and turned all night.
When I wake, I realize I cannot put off calling my mom. Not that I think she’s worried. Not that I think she’s concerned. I just feel like I owe her an explanation.
Daughter’s guilt. It’s a pre-requisite of being Janet Hurley’s child.
When I enter the great room, I instantly notice Judd’s absence but spy a note on the island countertop.
Good morning. Went for a swim. Wait for me for breakfast? Check yes or no.
With a smile on my face, I plop down on a highbacked stool. My fingers lightly caress the childlike paper, recalling Judd’s other note about dating him for ten days and the tattoo on his arm we still have not discussed.
With a heavy sigh, I realize Judd’s absence is the best time to call my mom. Like pulling off a bandage, I just need to get the sting over. My palms are clammy as I click on her contact and set the phone on speaker mode, laying it flat on the countertop. My heartbeat becomes erratic. I almost hope she doesn’t pick up, but not answering my call would only prolong the inevitable.
My mother answers on the fourth ring. “Hi, Mom.”
“Oh, you remember who I am?” Sarcasm is my mother’s favorite language.
“How could I forget you.” I clench my teeth, instantly wondering once more why I thought coming to Sterling Falls was a good decision. How on earth had I been talked into attending the Buttercup Society Garden Party or wearing that ridiculous dress?
But that guilt I feel is the answer to all my questions.
“Well, it’s nice of you to finally grace me with a call after your behavior on Saturday.”
My behavior? Spoken like I am an errant child instead of a nearly forty-year-old woman.
“I didn’t see that coming.” Vitriol laces with venom. I can picture her tight jaw. Her narrowed, frigid eyes.
While I’d like to joke that I hadn’t seen Judd’s announcement coming either, admitting my own surprise only plays into her cynicism. She doesn’t believe Judd and I are together, and there are any number of reasons why she’d doubt it.
Someone like Judd, established, wealthy, and maybe even a pillar of this community couldn’t possibly be interested in me because I’m . . .
Someone wayward and flighty, with my own rhythm and a slightly different approach to relationships than her.
Or someone who is distinctly not Heather Remington.
Instead of concern for me, my gut says my mother feels sorry for Heather.
“I cannot believe you did this to me.”
“What did I do to you, Mom?”
“Embarrassed me like that.”
How did I embarrass her? By announcing I was engaged. Okay, there wasn’t really an announcement.
“And hurting Heather’s feelings.”
Ah, there it is.
I don’t bother to mention that I didn’t directly do anything to her precious best friend’s daughter. And neither did Judd. Judd and Heather are no longer together. Judd and I aren’t officially anything, but maybe becoming friends.
I also don’t feel the need to defend myself, or my relationship with Judd, to her, real, fake, or otherwise.
“I didn’t know you were acquainted with Judd Sylver.” She pauses a beat. “Wasn’t he the one who dumped you on prom night?”
“I wouldn’t say dumped?—”
“It’s a good thing he left town. You don’t need the likes of a man like him.”
“Like him?” Wasn’t he good enough to be with Heather? I don’t bother asking. It’s a double-edged sword with my mother. She always jeers both sides of a chess board, wanting neither side to win. She’s simply never happy.
“You know, Virginia, if I’ve taught you anything it’s that men don’t appreciate easy women. They find them easy . To love and then leave.”
“What the fuck?” The startling snarl comes from behind me, and I spin on the stool to find a beast of a man behind me.
Judd is a vision, wearing a striped pool towel around his waist, chest exposed and notable for the number of ripples along his abdomen. A patch of hair decorates his pecs along with the glistening silver chain around his neck with a thick, masculine ring dangling from it. His hair is slicked back, dark as night, but his eyes are flames of blue. With his hands on his hips, his broad shoulders look even broader, and the dark expression on his face is frightening.
He points at my phone lying flat on the countertop in speaker mode, but before he can say more, my mother continues.
“Being a slut will not result in a solid relationship.”
Judd’s entire body tightens. His shoulders appear to expand in front of me. His chest heaves as he draws in a long breath. His nostrils flare. Smoke might actually burst from his ears next.
With a steady hand, he reaches around me and presses his thick fingertip to the bright red End Call button.
“Judd,” I whisper. Hanging up on my mother will fire her up more.
“What the fuck was that?” He glaringly points at the suddenly black screen.
“It’s just my mother.” Not exactly complimentary of her and certainly embarrassing to me to have someone witness her opinion. That because I haven’t married, I must be spreading my thighs for every Tom and Harry’s dick, and giving away what Mother believes men should pay for.
The irony in her statement is she doesn’t know anything about a solid relationship. She’s on marriage number four!
And there isn’t a price tag on love.
“Fuck that,” Judd states so sharply I flinch in my seat.
“She doesn’t mean anything by it,” I defend, but I don’t know why I’m standing up for her. She means exactly what she’s saying, and the hurt runs deep. I’ve heard comments like the one she just made all my life.
“She shouldn’t speak to you like that,” he emphasizes, his irritation continuing.
“It’s just who she is.”
“It’s unacceptable.” Judd crosses his thick arms. The colorful ink on his arms is a sharp contrast to his chest flesh, which looks chilled and pink from his swim in the lake.
My eyes suddenly burn with tears, and I don’t know if the sting is the dagger of my mother’s words, Judd hearing her say such a thing to me, or Judd himself. He’s clearly upset, bordering murderous, and it’s in my defense. How my mom spoke to me. What she implied.
I don’t know why she’s like she is toward me, but a niggling sensation in my gut always reminds me, even if my mother hasn’t, it’s my fault my dad is no longer with us. Over the years, I’ve told myself my mother is simply bitter and angry about something she couldn’t control, because my mother needs to control the narrative.
My phone rings, vibrating against the countertop and startling me. Judd and I both glance at the screen. MOTHER lights up the caller ID. Janet Hurley and technology do not go hand and hand, so I know she assumes we were disconnected by a fluke. If I were to answer, disconnection is the excuse I’d use for the dropped call.
However, Judd reaches around me again and clicks Dismiss Call on the screen. Then he powers off my phone.
“Do you have a bathing suit?”
“What?” I sputter, glancing back at him, uncertain how swimwear is relevant right now.
“Put your suit on. We’re going swimming.”
“I am not swimming.” I don’t feel like doing much of anything and that’s what I hate most about phone calls with my mother. She can squelch my energy and dull my creativity.
You can’t control everything that happens to you, but you can control how you react to it. My reaction is to take a little time to quell my immediate response to her and erase her temporary damage. The older I get the easier I bounce back. Still, I need processing time.
“Put on your suit. I’ll wait.” Judd doesn’t budge, standing like a palace guard, stone still and glaring at me to move along.
When he doesn’t back down, I slink from the stool, taking my time to enter the guest room and rummage through my suitcase for the bathing suit I’d tossed in last minute. I hadn’t planned to swim anywhere, but packing the suit is like bringing along that little black dress you can wear for any occasion. One should always be prepared when traveling.
In some respects, I should just go home. Accept that this was a lost cause trip and return to where I’m familiar. My apartment awaits. But my apartment is also lonely at times, especially as I work in such an isolating industry. Being a creative is a solitary job, and another reason working with Greetings Ambassador sounds appealing.
I wouldn’t be alone day in and day out anymore.
Slipping into my bathing suit, I don’t bother looking at myself in the mirror. I’ll only be critical of my appearance in the Kelly-green two-piece tankini. I’ll only see what my mother called me and not a proudly single person, embracing her sexual freedom as a woman of the modern era. The damning insult insinuates that I’m not particular about who I converse with, or date, or sleep with. I am selective because the last thing I want to become is her, desperate and vying for a man’s attention to replace the man before him. Or bitter and angry because no one lives up to her standards.
I toss on a coverup and reenter the great room where Judd is waiting, staring down at my phone from his seat in a highbacked stool. The device looks small in his larger hand.
“I want to smash this to pieces.” He looks up at me. “No one should ever speak to you like that, firefly. I don’t give a fuck if she is your mother.”
“Firefly?” He called me the same name last night.
“Genie, you’re a bright light even in broad daylight. Don’t let anyone diminish that spark.”
Okay then .
Judd sets the phone face down on the counter as he stands up. Then, he holds out his hand. When I take his offering, he tugs me forward and I stumble into him. Wrapping his arms around me, he tucks my head against him. The position is dangerous. Cheek to bare chest. His heart hammers beneath my ear. His winter mint and lake water scent is strangely intoxicating.
I could get lost in Judd. Or maybe I’d feel found.
I shake the thought as we linger in this position. My arms wrap around his cool flesh, and I flatten my hands on his shoulder blades. Judd hisses at the contact, so I loosen my arms, thinking he doesn’t want me to touch him there, but he tightens his grasp, pinning me to him.
I swear he kisses the top of my head, but I can’t be certain. Then he releases me.
“So . . . um . . . swimming.” He swipes a broad hand down his face and clears his throat.
My gaze drifts lower on his body, noticing our closeness has an effect; however, I don’t want to turn this moment sexual. I don’t want to feel like the slut my mother called me.
Judd waves toward a door to the right of the fireplace, and I lead the way until we step out onto his back deck. He reaches into an outdoor wardrobe to retrieve additional towels and tucks them beneath his arm, then he guides us across the grass to the dock jutting into the lake.
The late morning is beautiful. The sky is crystal clear, and the water reflects the brightness, giving off a silvery sheen.
“How deep is this thing?” I question, not a fan of spaces where I can’t see what’s below me.
Judd has dropped the excess towels to the dock, plus the one at his waist, to reveal a Euro cut swim trunk that rivals fitted boxer briefs.
Sweet succulents . Judd’s body is sinful. The muscles in his legs are apparent. Those abs still on display. He’s just too much.
“Maybe six feet closest to the perimeter.” He points vaguely at the space closest to the dock. “But don’t worry, I’d never let anything happen to you.”
His gaze catches on my eyes, and I sense he means something deeper than letting me drown or be attacked by the unknown.
Slipping off my coverup, I glance self-consciously at Judd. His eyes are wide and bright, blending with the sky behind him.
“Your body is downright deadly.”
I tilt my head. “Is that a compliment?”
“Yes.” The answer is strained. “You steal my breath, firefly.” His voice is rough as he drinks in every curve and dip of my body. The subtle swell of my hips. The short length of my legs. The hourglass shape of my waist and breasts. I’m not flat-bellied and toned, but Judd’s appraising gaze makes me feel like a supermodel.
“That sounds a little like a pickup line,” I joke, feeling a slight relief after the tension of the call with my mother.
“Really?” Judd tilts his head and steps closer to me. “This feels more like a pickup.” Instantly, I’m swept up into his arms.
“You wouldn’t,” I shriek, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“No line required,” he finishes his joke.
Then he hops off the dock and we plunge into the water.