Page 142 of Fierce-Baker

He knew some of what he’d said crossed a line. He knew it wasn’t all fair.

But what he hated most was being forced into the role at all. A referee, mediator, an emotional crutch. None of it should have been his responsibility in the first place.

Yet he did it all willingly for Tasha.

“Knock, knock, knock.”

He glanced toward the doorway and found Jolene standing there.

Of all the people he didn’t have the patience for right now, she topped the list.

He forced a smile. “Hi, Jolene. I’m a little busy.”

Jolene let loose one of her famous grins, then her eyebrows wiggled. “Looks more like you just don’t have time forme.”

“That too,” he said, pushing out a short laugh as he stood.

Jolene stepped fully inside and closed the door behind her, trapping them in the space.

Without being an asshole, he knew he had to hear her out.

“I heard you on the phone,” Jolene said gently. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t like he’d tried to keep it quiet. If he’d wanted privacy, he would have shut the door. But he’d made the call on impulse, before thinking, before talking himself out of it. If he’d paused even a second longer, he never would have called his mother back.

And then he never would have talked to his father.

He’d gotten it off his chest. That had to count for something. Even if the relief was thinner than he’d expected.

“It’s fine,” he said. “It’s just family drama.”

“I’m not going to ask,” Jolene replied. “It’s not my business.”

“It’s not,” he agreed.

She studied him for a second, then said, “Do you remember when we talked about how mothers are always afraid of pushing their children away?”

“Yes,” he said cautiously.

“Well, mothers and wives, we do stupid shit too.”

He snorted. “You don’t say.”

“Oh, I say it and live it,” Jolene shot back without offense. “All the time. But there’s usually a reason.”

“And that would be?”

“We care,” Jolene said simply. “It always comes back to protection. Sometimes it’s protecting the people we love.Sometimes it’s protecting ourselves.” She paused, letting the words settle. “And sometimes it’s easier to hide our fear behind careless words. Easier to let someone think we’re mad, or nagging, or crossing lines, than to admit we’re unsure, or scared, or doubting something that already hurts.” She met his eyes, unflinching. “It’s easier to be blamed for what weknowwe did wrong,” she finished, “than for what we’re ashamed we might not be strong enough to face.”

Damn it, he hated she was right. He hated even more that he was going to tell her and get that winning smug look, but it didn’t stop him either.

“I think you’re right about that. And maybe I’m wrong for not seeing that side of things.”

It had more to do with Tasha, than his mother.

More to do with the woman he loved, though he knew some of it had to do with his parents.

“Well, then. I’m glad I got someone to listen to me today.” Her chest puffed out proudly. “And you have a great weekend. See, I wasn’t really coming to see you, I was making my way to the production floor to steal a bottle of something fruity.”