Chasing Serenity

by Ashley, Kristen

  Judge was chuckling.

  “How many notches do you have, Rix?” Dru asked boldly.

  Jamie, as any good daughter-dad would at the topic of notches discussed with his girl, be she twenty or fifty, dropped his head.

  I fought a smile.

  “A gentleman doesn’t tell,” Rix said.

  “About five dozen,” Judge said.

  Dru laughed, and even though she wasn’t much younger than me, there was still a girlie hint to it.

  It was sweet.

  It was also indication she’d grown up protected, nurtured, and with loving care.

  I liked her and I liked that for her.

  But I loved that Judge did the same.

  She clearly adored her “big brother,” and Judge had been correct. She wanted more.

  For Judge, there was no competition or resentment there.

  That said a lot about him and gave even more to her.

  And I was glad Judge was going to put effort into folding her further into his life.

  A knock sounded on the door and Rix’s gaze came right to me.

  I tensed to move.

  He shook his head and got up.

  It was then I noticed both Dru and Jamie had the same silent discourse, one that Dru had won and was also rising.

  I was very much beginning to love that girl.

  “Stay still, sweetheart, I got it,” Rix muttered to Dru as he moved to answer the knock.

  I looked up at Judge, who was staring at the door.

  “He wouldn’t come here, would he?” I asked, meaning his grandfather.

  His gaze came down to me. “He does anything he wants. But there’s also Jeff. And he does anything he wants as well, and it might seem impossible, but most of the time, it’s even less appropriate than what Granddad gets up to.”

  Marvelous.

  “Well, hey,” Rix greeted, the surprise and friendliness in his tone making me push up enough to see who was there.

  And then I stared in shock as Dad, Mom, Bowie, Sully, Gage, Sasha and Matt came through.

  “Holy fuck,” Judge whispered as we all made moves to rise from our seats.

  Once they’d all filed in, Bowie took the lead.

  “We’re not here to intrude, Judge. We’re just here to…well, be here. For you.”

  “Family,” Mom piped up.

  I noted Jamie had made his approach, and Dad was greeting him with a man hug.

  “We’ve got our rooms and we can entertain ourselves,” Bowie went on. “Until the service on Wednesday.”

  “But if you need anything in the meantime.” Mom was staring hard at Judge.

  Something I had not yet noted.

  I talked with my mom a lot, about everything, and once Judge and I got together, that was included in our everything.

  And from the time I placed a short phone call to her yesterday morning to tell her what was going down, I’d continued sharing.

  I suspected, however, that Dad had filled in a few blanks.

  And honestly, I was proud I’d kept it together. I was worried and I’d cried in Rix’s arms, but I was pretty pleased with myself that I’d kept a lid on my own emotions that had a schizophrenic range. I’d done this to be available in any way that might come about (like calling the funeral home that morning about his mom’s hair) when Judge needed me.

  However, the way Mom was gazing at Judge—giving him that Mom Look that was keen on the scent of an injured cub—how I could tell she was barely holding back, her need was so deep to reach out for him.

  And then my gaze skipped to Bowie, who I didn’t think had taken his eyes off Judge from the minute he entered the room.

  And I knew it was them, Mom and Bowie, who had arranged this.

  For me.

  For Judge.

  Because…

  Family.

  That was when I lost it.

  I didn’t even know I had until both Judge’s arms had wrapped around my head and my face was in his chest, where I pressed it, sobbing.

  “It’s been a lot,” I heard Dru say softly.

  The room was quiet for long, torturous, embarrassing moments during which I could not find it in me to get it together before I heard Gage’s voice coming my way.

  “You done gone and broke Coco,” he said, then I was out of Judge’s arms and in Gage’s. He rocked me side to side with exaggeration, saying, “Stop being a dork, you big dork.”

  “I’m not a dork,” I cried into his neck.

  “You’re totally being a dork, and it looks like a frat party in here. But you still totally need more booze,” Gage replied.

  Mortifyingly, I let out one of those laugh-cries and pulled my face out of his neck.

  “I doubt any frat party has Blanton’s and camembert.”

  “It does when I throw it seeing as I’m the son of an outdoors tycoon and stepson of high-falutin’ millionaire Hollywood actress and…whatever I am to your dad, the best tennis player in history.”

  “First, please tell me you have not joined a frat,” I demanded.

  “As if,” he said. “So I’ll change that to college party.”

  “Good,” I returned. “Now did you just say high-falutin’?”

  He grinned down at me and asked, “Does it help if I tell you I don’t know what camembert is?”

  “It’s cheese.”

  He gave me a mock serious look. “Well, I need to know all about that.”

  I smiled at him.

  This lasted half a second before I was tugged away by Sully, and he did this while he said to his brother, “Don’t hog her. Jesus.”

  “You’re just jealous because I got there first and made her stop crying,” Gage retorted.

  “Whatever,” Sully muttered, while hugging me hard.

  God, I seriously loved my two new little brothers.

  “Sullivan,” I greeted.

  “Cocoroco,” he replied.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be graduating soon?” I asked a question I knew the answer to, because Judge and I had plane tickets to attend those festivities. And these included Sully vowing to take me to Harry’s (a bar just off campus that apparently couldn’t be missed) and threatening to make me ride in a van around the Indianapolis 500 track.

  It was going to be Judge and my first trip together as a couple.

  Woefully, this one bumped it from the top spot.

  “Fortunately, my dad, who pays my tuition, not to mention for other things, like plane tickets to Dallas, thinks it’s crucial I learn priorities.”

  That was fortunate indeed.

  There were then general greetings which mostly boiled down to hugs all around for Judge and me, some introductions, and then I was left with Sasha and Matt.

  It was Matt who did it, towing me to him and pulling in Sasha too.

  In our huddle, Sasha met my eyes.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “It’s just been…” I used Dru’s words, “a lot.” I hesitated then, “I’ll tell you later.”

  That earned me a sunny Sasha Smile that was not fake at all.

  And my relief at experiencing it was extreme.

  “We’ll be talking about you blowing town with your guy when his mom passes and not fucking calling…either of us,” Matt grumbled.

  “I called Sash,” I defended.

  “To look after a dog,” Matt returned.

  “Hmm…” I hummed.

  “Matt, lay off. Coco is dealing with a lot and you’re being a meanie,” Sasha reprimanded.

  “Jesus, did you just say meanie?” Matt asked her.

  “I was shying away from asshole,” she retorted.

  I burst out laughing and felt both of them look at me.

  Matt pulled us tighter together.

  Sasha reciprocated.

  So I did the same thing.

  “Never again,” Matt whispered.

  Oh God.

  I loved my brother.

  I looked him in the eye, then Sasha. “Never again.
”

  Sasha’s eyes were bright with tears and her voice was husky when she said, “Never again.” And went on, “Coco, I’m so sorry. It was so—”

  “Stop it. You apologized. I accepted. Done.”

  “I’m dealing with some stuff,” she blurted.

  Matt and I both stilled.

  So he saw it too.

  “When I wrap my head around it, I’ll, like, talk to you. Both of you guys,” she said.

  “Promise,” I demanded.

  “Promise,” she replied.

  “Swear,” Matt, being Matt, didn’t let it go.

  “I swear. God, Matt, you’re always so pushy.”

  Her saying he was “always” so anything hit me, soft and warm.

  He was pushy.

  When it was something like this.

  Important.

  Sure, it could be annoying when he was that way.

  But it was meant to be loving.

  “If my children would quit having a highly impolite whispered conversation away from the rest of the family, their mother would very much appreciate it,” Mom called.

  Sash rolled her eyes.

  Matt grinned.

  I gave them both a squeeze and we broke apart.

  When I turned, Judge’s eyes were locked to me.

  I gave him a smile.

  His face got soft.

  I moved his way.

  And heard Jamie’s voice saying, “Yes, please repeat the order I placed an hour ago and bring six orders of truffle fries along with it this time.”

  “Truffle fries, sah-weet,” Gage praised. “I could eat a horse.”

  Judge claimed me.

  Dad gave me a You okay? look.

  I gave him an Absolutely reply.

  Rix and Sully pulled in armchairs from the bedrooms, and we all found our places.

  It wasn’t nearly as comfortable as lying with my head on Judge’s thigh.

  But curled into him instead, seeing he did not hide he was touched at the dramatic gesture of my family—a family that I knew in my heart would someday officially be his—not to mention he and Jamie now had other, better things to occupy their minds, I didn’t care Judge and I didn’t have a full couch all to ourselves.

  We had everything else.

  Everything else we needed.

  Family.

  * * *

  “I’m glad Matt put a line under it and you three are moving on,” Judge said.

  It was later.

  The rest of our family had gone their separate ways (though, all of those were in the same hotel).

  I was sitting cross legged in bed.

  Judge’s long body was lounged on its side across the foot, head in his hand.

  And I was done with laying his worries to rest about me and my issues.

  We needed to dive into his.

  “What’s the gulch?” I asked.

  His lips quirked.

  Then he asked in return, “How hard was it to hold that question in for the length of time it took after everyone said goodbye, Matt, Sul, Gage and Rix headed down to the bar to go on the prowl, and we put on our pajamas?”

  I refused to answer as to that particular difficulty being extreme and repeated, “What’s the gulch?”

  He let out an amused sigh and answered, “Oakbilly Gulch. Apparently, working toward a massive ‘Fuck you, Dad’ is an Oakley family trait. I know this because of what Dad shared at the funeral home. I also know it from knowing the family lore behind the Gulch since I could form a coherent thought.”

  “And this lore is?” I prompted when he didn’t continue.

  I got another lip quirk before he launched in.

  “Well, one thing it’s not is a gulch. It’s a nineteen-thousand-square-foot mansion sitting on fifteen thousand acres that has cattle, horses, a swimming pool, a tennis court, and an indoor theater and bowling alley. The main structure, which began as only eight thousand square feet, another Oakley tradition is for each generation to add on in order to make it more ostentatious, was built by my great grandfather. It was his middle finger to his dad who told him, if he left West Virginia, and their other family tradition of letting the coal mines kill the men early, and he went off wildcatting, he could never come home again. He left. He struck black gold. And he built that mansion and called it Oakbilly Gulch as a take on the family names and his way not to be mistaken since his people lived next to a dried-up gulch in West Virginia. A gulch that regularly flooded with rain, trapping them across the water, and even on occasion washing out their home. But the men of the family were so stubborn, they rebuilt right there, living on that spot for generations and never moving.”

  “This is a rather troubling story, chéri,” I noted.

  “Because you’re hooked up with a stubborn Oakley man?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Just to say, I knew my great grandad. He died when he was ninety-eight. His father, and brothers, were gone long before that. So sometimes stubborn isn’t bad. Like, say, when you meet a beautiful woman and she’s dead set on holding you back, but you don’t give up.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  When I rolled them back, he was grinning.

  “So your dad is going to wrest hold of the family home?” I inquired.

  Sadly, his grin faded.

  “Apparently it, everything in it, and every head of cattle, horse, and structure on the land around it, Granddad has put up as collateral for some deal that should have earned him a whole new fortune. But it fell apart, and he’s scrambling to piece it back together. It’s not looking good, and the people he promised a cut, people who gave him the cash to make magic happen, aren’t thinking good things.”

  “So your dad is going to close in.”

  Judge nodded.

  “Can I make a suggestion?” I requested.

  He nodded again.

  “Don’t get involved.”

  “Chlo—”

  I pushed up and over my knees so I was on my belly and closer to him. There, I reached out with my fingers and touched his mouth.

  “They should have worked together to take care of you,” I said. “Your grandfather should have been your father’s eyes and ears here. Your dad having to fight your mom and his father, at the same time struggling to figure out what was best for you being caught in the crossfire would have been far easier if his father was not a point of that triangle, but instead had been at his side. He was not. Jamie made bad decisions, but it’s easy to see that now considering the man you’ve become. He couldn’t know you’d be this smart, this strong. He erred on the side of protecting you. I understand that. He still erred. And he knows it. Let him do what he must to work out those demons.”

  I paused and then stated my last.

  “And your grandfather deserves it.”

  Judge wrapped his hand around my wrist and pulled it away from his mouth, starting again, “Chlo—”

  “He does.”

  “He’s an old—”

  “He does,” I hissed.

  Judge fell quiet.

  “He knew how bad she was, he was right here,” I explained. “He made moves to keep you in that situation so he could keep you in his sights. He behaved entirely selfishly. And that isn’t okay for a grandfather, it isn’t okay for a father, it isn’t even okay for a human being. Your dad did not push him to make bad financial decisions. He is, on all accounts, reaping what he’s sown. It’s simply that his own son is handing him the sickle. Let it happen.”

  Knowing me, Judge did not push it.

  Instead, he replied, “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

  “That would be impossible, Judge.”

  I said that, I meant it, and I very much liked the consequences of it.

  Those being, Judge pushing up and reaching out to me.

  He then dragged me up his chest and we collapsed so I was on my back and he’d pinned me.

  He had a look on his face that was familiar, and I adored it, but we weren’t done.

&
nbsp; “Before you get busy,” I started and his gaze went from my mouth to my eyes, “that scene in the house—”

  It was my turn to be interrupted.

  “We had it, we let it out, it’s good.”

  He was avoiding again.

  “Judge—”

  “Although he threatened it, he’s not going to make Granddad move there,” he shared. “Mom didn’t have a will. Not that we know. So the property goes to me. Dad’s going to hire someone to go through it to see if there’s anything that needs keeping, or if there’s important paperwork we should know about. Then he’s going to hire someone to come and fix it up. We’re selling it. And I’ll get the money. The deal, though, is that he insists on paying for all of that. I don’t like it, but I agreed because I think it will help him put some closure on what we saw, and what happened when we did.”

  “Will that be closure for you too?”

  “Sure.”

  That was a lie.

  Judge didn’t lie.

  He cheated (not the bad kind, the adorable kind, or the sexy kind, but he did it).

  He didn’t lie.

  “You threw things through a window, breaking said window,” I reminded him cautiously.

  “I haven’t been home in a decade. I didn’t know it had gotten that bad. It was a thing. It happened and I’m over that thing.”

  He so was not.

  “Darling—”

  “Chloe, honest to God, I’m okay.”

  He wasn’t that either, but I wouldn’t help him by pushing him to process things he wasn’t ready to process.

  I’d be there when that time came.

  For now…

  “You’ve not once mentioned your maternal grandparents,” I remarked.

  He sighed, but it wasn’t an impatient-let’s-stop-going-through-painful-history-and-have-sex sigh.

  It was something else.

  I would find out what it was when he answered.

  “Hate to share this with you, baby, but there’s some pretty serious stubborn on that side of the family too. Apparently, Mom’s dad was not only ticked she’d fallen down the rabbit hole of drink and drugs, he was pissed way the hell off she got divorced. It’s my understanding they weren’t Bible thumpers, but they were religious and traditional and conservative. More, they really liked Dad. Can’t say they were big fans of Granddad’s, but I honestly don’t know. Mom cut them out, so I didn’t know them very well.”