I parked and walked up the steps with my boots crunching on snow.
Before I could knock, the door swung open.
Mom stood there in an old sweatshirt and holiday pajama pants with her hair piled on top of her head.
She looked me over once, sharp and quick.“Where is she?”she asked.
I exhaled.“Hi, Ma.”
She didn’t smile.“Don’t ‘hi, Ma’ me.Where’s Belle?”
My shoulders sagged slightly as I stepped inside.“Not here.”
Mom’s eyes narrowed.“Why not?”
I hung my jacket on the hook by the door and stared at the floor for a second because I didn’t want to say it out loud.Saying it out loud made it real.
“We fought,” I admitted.
Mom made a noise in her throat.Not surprise.More like disappointment.
She walked back into the kitchen, and I followed.
Mom moved to the counter and kneaded dough like she needed something to do with her hands.A big roasting pan sat on the stove, and the oven timer was ticking down.Christmas music played softly from an old speaker in the corner.
Mom didn’t look at me as she said, “Tell me what you did.”
I huffed out a humorless laugh.“You already assume it was me.”
She glanced at me then, eyebrows raised.“If it wasn’t you, you wouldn’t be standing in my kitchen looking like somebody keyed your bike.”
I leaned against the counter opposite her.“I helped her.”
Mom’s hands paused in the dough.“Helped her how?”
I stared at the flour-dusted countertop.“Her dad’s debt.The guy that’s been coming into her bakery.Bill McClure.”I nodded once.“I handled it.”
Mom went still.“Saint…”
I looked up.“What?You want Belle safe or you want me polite?”
Mom’s gaze held mine, hard and steady.“I want you smart.”
My jaw clenched.“I was smart.I didn’t hurt anybody.I didn’t start anything.I made a deal.”
Mom pressed her lips together.“And did you tell Belle?”
My silence answered.
Mom’s shoulders dropped slightly, and she went back to kneading with a little more force than necessary.“Oh, honey.”
I bristled.“Don’t ‘oh honey’ me.”
Mom shot me a look that could peel paint.“Then don’t act like a man who needs ‘oh honey.’”
I dragged a hand through my hair, frustration buzzing in my veins.“I didn’t want to stress her out more.She was already drowning.”
Mom’s expression softened just a fraction, but her voice stayed firm.“And you think the way to keep a woman from drowning is to grab her by the throat and drag her somewhere she didn’t choose?”
