Brotherly Bonding
Mateo
“Alex, I haven’t seen Holly since Friday afternoon.”
I probably should have started our conversation with something a little less panic-inducing, but I’m a brand-new husband who is panicking right now.
Alex’s yawn carries through the phone, and I wince seeing the late hour on my clock.
“What do you mean, Mateo?”
I lean against the headboard, rubbing my temples with my free hand, trying to banish the pounding sensation behind my eyes. I’ve rarely gotten stress-induced headaches, but this weekend is getting to me. “I mean, it’s eleven p.m. on Sunday night and I haven’t seen Holly since we got back from the courthouse on Friday. She went to take a nap after we talked and I don’t know if she’s left her room since.”
I hear shuffling and the jangle of keys. “Is her car gone?”
“Nope. Her car is still here. I think she’s just barricaded herself in her room. Should I go check on her? Should I make sure she’s still alive?”
Alex laughs, and I hear the clink of keys again. “At least I don’t needto track her down. If it was anyone else besides Holly, I would say yes, go check on her. But Holly has a very strong fight-or-flight response. This is her flight response. I learned during her late teenage years, when she had a lot of pent-up feelings, that she needed space to process things. She spent a lot of time in her room avoiding me. I know she’s been in therapy for a while, but maybe this weekend was too much to fight off the habit.”
I run my fingers through my hair. At this point, it’s a frizzy and fuzzy mess, and I want to cut it all off in a vain attempt to control something. My sisters always talked about this phenomenon, and I finally believe it’s real after tonight. “Should I do something, though? I mean, it’s been over two days, Alex.”
Alex lets out a weary sigh. “I’m sure Holly is fine. We all cope with change in different ways. This is hers.”
I groan and get out of bed, pacing across the softest carpet I’ve had the privilege of walking on. If only I was walking down the hardwood floor hallway to Holly’s room instead. That would be even better.
“Alex, she hasn’t responded to my text messages about what she wants for dinner. That has got to mean something is wrong. I overheard Reina and Holly bonding over their love of food at dinner the other night. Why would she not respond to a question about what she wants to eat?”
Alex laughs, and it sets me on edge. I pull at the strands of my hair as his chuckle subsides. “I may not be fully on board with this whole marriage thing, but I’m glad you’re there for her, Mateo. Now listen, I know my sister. She’s been through a lot, and she needs space to process things. She’s more introverted than I am and needs her comfort zone to process change. I’m sure she’ll emerge from her hermit cave when she’s ready. If you really want to tempt Holly to leave the cave, you could try making a dessert. Brownies or cookies are a weakness of hers.”
I look at the clock: 11:05 P.M. Am I really contemplating making brownies this late at night?
Yes.
Because I haven’t talked to Holly in two days and it’s slowly killing me.
I walk to my bedroom door, but something keeps me from opening it and becoming the next contender for the Great British Bakeoff. Making brownies could work, but it just doesn’t feel like the right move for me. “I’ll have to think about it. Thanks for answering this late at night, bro. Tell Reina thanks for letting me talk to you.”
There’s a muffled conversation on the other line before Alex gets back on. “She says it’s okay this time, but our future bro chats shouldn’t interrupt couple time if we can help it.” He chuckles as he says that last line, and I can’t help but shake my head. Those two are so in love it’s almost sickening. Almost.
I slowly walk back toward my bed. “I’ll keep that in mind for the future. Night, bro.”
“Night, Mateo. I’ll text Holly. It’ll work out.”
Alex ends the call and I lean down and charge my phone, making sure the ringer is on. I want to hear if Holly texts me back.
I stare at the quilt on my bed, the pieces stitched together by the ladies in our congregation at church back home. It was a graduation gift after high school, but I still take it everywhere with me. The patched-together flannel shirts and high school t-shirts are worn, and there are a few mended tears, but I will never give up this blanket. It’s a piece of home I’ll take with me anywhere.
For the first time since getting married, I wish I was home. Going to church today was good, but I didn’t know anyone, and Holly didn’t come with me, even though she had talked about attending in previous weeks.
I brush my hand over a flannel shirt. I need comfort.
My knees hit the floor, and I place my folded arms on the blue plaid that reminds me of days on the farm. I bow my head and let the words flow.
“Dear Lord, please help me connect with and help Holly. Please help me know what I can do to help her feel seen, loved, and protected.” I pause, and words fail me. “Please help me.”
My knees begin to ache, the soft carpet only able to cushion my bones for so long. The scent of home clings to my quilt and I breathe it in as I focus on what my heart needs to say and how I can connect with my Savior.
I end the prayer but don’t move, even though my right foot tingles with numbness
