Page 38 of Sterling Fight

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.