Page 121 of Fierce-Baker

“I’m in for the night. Emme has a school function so it’s just me and my glass of wine.”

“What?” he asked, trying to sound offended. “Not something I’ve made? I hooked you up good when you were here.”

She laughed and he could hear her taking a sip. He’d given his sister and Emme enough liquor to last them a year or more when they left.

“I’m finishing the bottle that Emme got when school started. Guess she buys several to get her through. We cracked the last one over the weekend. Now tell me what is going on. I’m going to assume you’re home and not with Tasha.”

“I am. We aren’t together every night.”

Even if there were times he wanted to be.

“So hit me with the worst of what is going on now,” Brittany said, taking another sip to finish her words.

“It’s actually a toss up, but I’ll start with Mom and Dad.”

“Hang on,” Brittany said. He could hear her moving around. “I need to top my glass off for this, I’m sure.”

“I might join you.” He walked to his liquor cart and poured a splash of bourbon into a glass and sat back down.

“I’m assuming Mom is bugging you about Dad again?”

“It’s never going to end. Since she couldn’t get me to reach out to him and ask how he’s doing. You know, give him a heart to heart that we’ve never had once in our lives.”

Because his father spent his free time sucking up to his mother to atone for all the guilt of cheating on her for years.

Or his mother was monopolizing his father’s time because she felt guilty for not lavishing enough attention on him and “causing” him to stray.

That was the best word to describe every interaction. Every intention. Every thought in his family.

Guilt.

“At least they don’t bother you as much as they do me,” Brittany said. “And I’m closer.”

“It’s only an hour. I’m surprised Mom hasn’t asked you to visit Dad.”

“She’s hinted at it, but really, what do I know about a man’s anatomy? I think she figured that much out at least.”

He snorted. “Fair point. Guilt didn’t work, so now it’s that he’s not being very nice to her.”

“Which she knows for a fact is only going to rile you up.”

“Exactly.”

He didn’t need this right now. He’d even felt bad letting Tasha know over the weekend.

She had enough to worry about. Enough going on. Enough scares and stress.

His family drama didn’t have to compound those things.

Stuff that didn’t concern her and he’d been dealing with for his entire life.

“What is Dad doing? Blaming her or something? Like it’s her problem Dad is aging. Or that he has high blood pressure. Oh yeah, let’s not forget borderline diabetes. Is he saying it’s her fault that he eats takeout for lunch daily and always has? How about the stress he puts on himself at work to make the next buck?” Brittany asked.

“Damn. Sounds like you’ve got as much pent-up anger in this as I do.”

He’d never realized that before.

That maybe his sister got more of the shaft than he did.