Chapter 27
27
[Genie]
I cannot believe my mother did this to me— to us —by accepting an invitation to sit with the Remingtons.
Since Judd hung up on my mother last week, guilt hit me hard, and I sent her a text telling her I had bad reception. I promised to call her later in the week. I hadn’t called. She sent me a text requesting—no demanding—we meet for brunch.
I remind myself this is what I’d wanted. I’d originally planned to arrive on Friday, spend four days with my mother and celebrate her day on Mother’s Day, in hopes she’d celebrate a special day with me on Monday.
Spending an hour or two with the Remingtons is the last thing I want to do, and I don’t want to put Judd through this torture either.
“We can leave,” I turn toward him as the hostess steps into the main dining room.
Judd cups my cheeks, his eyes tender, his touch light. “Is this meal important to you?” Somehow, he’s sensed that it is. I wouldn’t have accepted being here otherwise, I guess.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Then we weather it together.” He takes my hand, and lifts it to his lips, kissing my knuckles near his mother’s ring and then slipping his fingers between mine.
I like the fit, and the strength of his hand boosts my confidence as I turn to face the dining room and instantly see Heather standing a few feet from us. Her face dumbstruck. Mouth agape. Then her icy eyes narrow and she glares at Judd, killing him with a glance before stalking away.
Is it wrong to be hopeful she’s leaving?
The hostess remains stationary, waiting on Judd and me, and I finally force my leaden feet to move into the dining room.
As we near the table, I catch the eye of my stepfather. Lester Hurley isn’t a bad man, I just don’t know him very well. He arches a brow and musters a weary smile. If he has any sympathy for me, he doesn’t dare show it, especially when I meet my mother’s eye next.
Disapproval wavers around her like a dark aura. She scans down my dress, the look not appraising but critical. As I lean forward to press a kiss to her cold cheek, she mutters to me.
“I’ve never seen you look so full , Virginia. Perhaps a strapless dress wasn’t the best choice for brunch.”
“Excuse me,” Judd growls beside me but I squeeze his hand. We might be in this together, but I need to face my mother on my own terms.
“She looks radiant,” Judd adds, and I catch him looking at me. His eyes bright and full of something I can’t read but I’m grateful for him standing beside me.
Judd pulls out an empty chair for me beside my mother and then helps himself to the vacant seat beside me at the round table.
“That was Heather’s spot,” Carl Remington states. The sixty-something, gray-haired man with a mustache narrows his eyes at Judd. “What happened to your eye?”
Judd’s cheek is swollen and the telltale sign of a black-eye is present despite the rim of his dark glasses attempting to cover the bruise.
“We’re getting another chair,” Cheyanne quickly interjects, preventing Judd from answering. The poor girl. The tension surrounding this table could not be cut with a machete.
My mother leans toward me although she doesn’t lower her voice. “Was bringing him really necessary?”
I lift my left hand, flashing my ring finger at her. The one she demanded to see a week ago. “Yes. He’s my fiancé.”
In many ways, my mother started this whole thing. Despite Judd announcing I was his fiancée, my mother was the one who demanded to see a ring. So here it is.
I’m playing into the fib, and yet, so many pieces of our lie don’t feel like a lie.
Judd’s hand finds my thigh beneath the table, emphasizing one of those things that make our situation feel a little too real. I cover the back of his hand, squeezing tightly, like I don’t intend to let him go.
“Funny how that happened so quickly,” Carl Remington states, glaring at Judd.
“Are you pregnant?” my mother blurts.
“Janet.” Gloria Remington chides, glancing over each of her shoulders like someone nearby might hear. As if the idea of pregnancy is shameful. Her blond hair doesn’t ruffle with the sudden movement due to a helmet of hair spray.
“No,” I defend, my brows pinching. “Would that be the only reason Judd would marry me?”
I’m certain my mother has a list of reasons why I’m not good enough for Judd. Or maybe she’s had a change of heart and now Judd isn’t good enough period while he might have once been perfect for Heather. My mother’s heart is fickle like that.
Judd squeezes my thigh tighter.
“You’d have to have sex to get pregnant.” All heads turn toward Heather’s voice as she returns to the table with a man beside her who instantly looks uncomfortable.
“Could this get any worse?” Judd mutters beside me while I’m narrowing my eyes, assessing the man next to Heather, trying to figure out why he looks familiar.
“Tate Haven.” He clears his throat and holds up a hand in a weak greeting.
“Tate,” I whisper, instantly recognizing the name.
The Havens are another Sterling Falls family with a deep history. One once closely linked to the Sylvers but the details are fuzzy to me. Tate is the second son in the family and the same age as Judd.
In contrast to the Sylvers, who are primarily a dark-haired, blue-eyed family, the Havens have more of a Viking look about them, with a range of blond hair and a mix of eye colors.
Judd stiffens beside me, and I turn toward him, whispering, “What is it?”
Judd numbly shakes his head and stares forward into the room.
Heather cannot take her eyes off Judd. “Seems you weren’t the only one sneaking around.”
“First,” I counter, my irritation instant. “We were not sneaking around.” The second after I speak, I clamp my lips shut. Of course, Heather might think that happened. An engagement on the same day as Judd breaks up with Heather look suspicious. But the engagement was also a misunderstanding. Words said to keep my mother off my back. Then an assumption when Judd was holding out the ring and Heather caught us on the side of the house.
But Judd has been playing into the misinterpretation, introducing me as his fiancée, and I haven’t been denying it either. Even if we promised we’d date for ten days, everything feels a little more real and a whole lot unfinished.
Suddenly lingering over my head is our end date— tomorrow .
Heather Remington does not need to know the truth, though. I don’t owe her anything and her statement implies she’s the one who has some explaining to do.
Judd looks like he’s going to be sick, and I can’t decide if he’s jealous of Tate, or if something else is going on here.
Two more chairs are brought to the table, and I scoot left, causing Judd to do the same.
Tate takes the seat beside Judd, Heather on the other side of him. The additional seating arrangement makes the round table tighter and the tension tenser. I’ve completely lost my appetite and the last place I want to be is in this restaurant. I seek Judd’s thigh beneath the table, and he covers my hand this round, shifting us so our palms meet and our fingers twine together.
Then Judd shifts again. The seating arrangement is close.
“Sorry,” Tate mumbles through gritted teeth, without a hint of sincerity in his apology.
Judd only tips up his chin, letting the brush of Tate’s shoulder against him go, but his jaw is tight. He reaches for his glass of water at the same time Tate stretches for the sugar packets when he could have asked for them to be passed.
Judd and Tate bump arms again.
“Nope,” Judd states, glaring at Tate, a warning coming off Judd that’s nearly frightening. His hand covering mine squeezes tighter.
“It’s a tight fit,” Tate mutters.
“Show some table manners, ask for the sugar to be passed.”
“And risk you tossing it in my face,” Tate scoffs. His low voice carries across Judd’s tense body.
“That isn’t the type of shit I’d do. That’s more your MO.”
Oh God . Is Judd sitting next to someone who used to bully him?
“Judd,” I whisper. “Why don’t we just leave?” There isn’t room at this table for us anyway and the tension is stifling. My mother had to have known this would happen.
This type of bullshit is the exact reason I’ve stayed away for so many years.
“No.” Judd whips his head toward me. “You wanted to see your mother.”
He’s here to support me. We’re weathering this together, but is it worth weathering?
I’m about to say such a thing when Heather slips her left arm around Tate’s shoulder and wiggles her fingers. A glaringly large and rather gaudy ring with a round diamond-like gem beams on her finger.
“Are you getting married?” I blurt, distracted by the ring and the position of Heather’s hand on Tate’s shoulder.
Tate turns his head, craning his neck so he can better see what’s on Heather’s finger. Then his head whips in the direction of Heather.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he grunts as Heather removes her hand and holds it out over the table, staring at the garish piece of jewelry.
“This is my mother’s ring,” she emphasizes, pride filling her voice. “Mama gave it to me for when we’re ready to take our relationship to the next level.” She hitches her left shoulder and turns the tightest smile I’ve ever seen at Tate before she glares at Judd. “I’m leveling up.”
The insult is like an arrow, but the shot misses the bull’s eye. Heather isn’t leveling anything but her reputation as a cheater. And Tate looks struck dumb, having missed the memo that he’s engaged to Heather.
“Perhaps you’d like to go after Tate next,” my mother says beside me, and both Judd and I swing our heads in her direction.
“What?” I choke, disbelief blooming. Is my mother implying I’d go after another woman’s man?
“That’s enough,” Judd barks at my mom.
Lester bows his head while Mom holds hers higher. “It’s a joke. I was kidding.”
“It isn’t funny,” I state, my voice weak. You look like a slut, Virginia . No man likes an easy woman.
With a shaky hand I reach for a white wine that magically appeared before me when I don’t even like white wine.
Judd catches my wrist before I touch the glass. “That’s it. Now , we’re leaving.”
“What?” My mother and I say in unison.
“You’re ruining Mother’s Day brunch,” she directs at Judd.
“You ruined Mother’s Day brunch, Janet,” Judd says, pushing back his chair, tossing his napkin over his empty plate, and standing. He helps me shift my chair out of the tight seating arrangement and holds out his hand. Once our palms clasp, he presses a kiss to my knuckles.
“You’re making a scene,” my mother grouses. “Sit down, Virginia,” she demands through gritted teeth.
With my hand in Judd’s, I lift my other hand and flick my wrist like I’m tapping at an imaginary drum. “Just marching to my own beat, Mom.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” she retorts as Judd leads me away from the table.
She should know. She said it often enough to me as a child. A little less rhythm, Virginia .
And I prefer the rhythm of Judd’s hand in mine, and the racing of my heart, as no one has ever defended me in front of my mother.
No. One. Until Judd.
“Fuck,” Judd shouts as we hastily exit Evergreen Terrace and enter the bright sunlight of late morning. He removes his eyeglasses a second and scrubs a hand down his face in frustration.
The parking lot is packed, and we need to wait for the valet service to bring Judd’s car to us.
“I’m sorry about all that.” My voice is timid while Judd replaces his glasses and turns toward me, cupping my shoulders.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he says a bit too gruffly, pointing toward the double door entrance and adding, “ That was total bullshit.”
I agree. My mother. Heather. Even Tate Haven.
“Genie,” Judd sighs, still holding my shoulders. “You are fucking amazing. I’m spellbound by your goodness, and I know you want to believe because she’s your mother you owe her something, but that is not how a parent should speak to her adult child. I know .” He jabs at his chest. “It’s not acceptable.”
I squint up at Judd. “She doesn’t respect me.” It’s the first time I’ve ever voiced the words aloud. Admitted them out loud. “I’m an accomplished woman and I think she . . . resents me.”
I’ve done more than my mother ever will and admitting she might be jealous feels like I’m being egotistical. But then I remember she does have reason to resent me, and I’m not ready to face that truth today. Not after what just happened in Evergreen Terrace.
Judd nods. “Exactly. She should be proud of you, not demeaning you.” His gaze roams down my dress. The same green one with polka dots I wore the first time I met his family. “You radiate. Fucking brighter than the brightest firefly.”
I chuckle weakly, knowing that still isn’t very bright but Judd’s meaning is well-intended. He thinks I glow.
“What was all that with Tate?” I ask as the Ford Shelby is brought to where we wait.
Judd sighs. “Let’s get in the car and then I’ll talk.” Judd reaches for the passenger side door handle before the valet can assist me and he waits until I’m seated before closing the door. He tips the valet as they cross paths, and then he enters the car. With a rev of the engine, Judd pulls forward as if he can’t get us out of the parking lot and away from Evergreen Terrace fast enough.
“Tate,” Judd groans. “Such a man child, but once upon a time, Stone and Cortland Haven were best friends. So were our mothers. Stone and Cort grew up together. Were high school football superstars. Went to the same college. And both were NFL hopefuls.”
Judd releases a huge breath. “Then our dad died.” He turns his head, wiggling his brows. “And there was a girl.”
I laugh, intrigued. “There’s always a girl.”
But Judd’s face sobers. “Without going into all the dirty details, Stone and Cortland were no longer friends. The riff divided the families. Sebastian and the youngest Haven, Clint, decided not to speak to each other, choosing loyalty to their brothers over their friendship. However, Tate and I were never friends.” Judd stares out the windshield a moment, reflective. “Taunts and jabs in middle school, when the mean years really kicked in. An unkind word here. A poke there. Minor moments to some that added up to years and years of torment for me.”
“Judd.” I reach for his forearm. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.” As if his younger years weren’t bad enough, throw in a family friend’s son being a bully, and the layers just build.
“I tried to tell Stone what was going on when I was around thirteen or fourteen years, but he told me to ignore Tate. Said Tate struggled being in the shadow of his older, more successful brother. Stone wanted me to offer compassion when what I really wanted was to throat punch Tate. I never brought up our strained situation again.”
Strained situation was a nice way of saying Judd was bullied.
Judd has held a lot inside over the years and this example adds another brick to the wall of reasons he fights. He has so much to let out and hasn’t had an outlet for it. The toxicity. The negativity.
“Think Tate knew he was getting engaged to Heather?”
Judd’s chuckle is bitter and raw. “He absolutely did not get that message in whatever scheme they were planning.”
I watch as he loosens his hand on the steering wheel and then grips it once more. “Are you upset?”
“I’m fucking livid. If I ever hear your mom?—”
“Not about my mom.” Although, I appreciate his avid insistence and irritation. “About Heather. She all but admitted she’d been with Tate before you two separated.”
Judd twists his lips. “Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me. I thought we were exclusive but one day Heather said to me, if I wanted exclusivity, I should put a ring on her, and I think that’s when it really hit me that we weren’t meant for one another.”
Judd reaches over the gear shift and takes my hand in his. His thumb finds his mother’s ring, flicking over it like he does. “You are meant for me, firefly. And I know that scares you a bit, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes. I’ll wait until we’re on the same lined page with unicorns. Patience is one of my best virtues.” He grins wide, exposes his white teeth, like that will lessen the wham of what he said.
He’ll wait for me? “I’m supposed to go home tomorrow.”
Judd’s head turns so quickly I’m afraid the car will shift as well. His expression suggests he’d forgotten. Our ten days are almost up, and while I’d like to complain the trip was a bust from my original intention, this visit has turned out to be so much more than I’d expected.
Judd’s shoulders lower and his hand loosens on the steering wheel again, fingers flexing before he regrips the control. He doesn’t respond to what I’ve said.
For some reason, I don’t want us to be alone yet. Today should be about family. “We should go to Stone’s.”
“What? Why?” Judd asks, glancing briefly at me again before returning his attention to the road.
“Because it’s Sylver Sunday. And it is Mother’s Day,” I soften my voice. “Do it for your mom, Judd. Because she’d want you to be with them.”
He might no longer have his mother, but he has siblings. Some remember his mom. Some don’t. Judd should be with them in memory of her. For her . Violet Sylver’s children turned out to be amazing despite their father.
Judd rocks his head once and then says, “I’ll do it for you, firefly. Your wish is my command.”