Chapter 14
Couch Conversations
Mateo
We exit the courthouse, after our two obligatory pictures, and I put my hand on Holly’s back as we walk to her Lexus.
I had volunteered my rusty pickup truck as our get-away vehicle, but I was rejected. The suggestion did make Holly laugh for a second, so I guess it was a win. I’m ready to be back in my pickup again, which I left parked in Holly’s garage. I’m tired of being chauffeured around.
At least I’m driving, even if we’re riding off into the afternoon sun in her Lexus. It seems less romantic than my pickup truck, but maybe I’ve been listening to too many country songs about kissing in trucks.
I turn around and wave goodbye to my mami again, but she doesn’t seem to get the hint. She’s a few feet behind us. I thought when I charged Alex with making sure my family got to the airport for their evening flight, he understood that he was supposed to run some interference for me.
Guess my telepathic communication didn’t work.
How disappointing.
Holly and I might not be going on a honeymoon, but I am looking forward to spending the rest of the day with her. We need to talk about that kiss.
I open the white passenger door and Holly slips inside, tucking the skirt of her dress under her thighs. She doesn’t meet my eyes, only flashes a brief smile at me before staring down at her shoes. I close the door and walk back around the front of the car, which is where Mami catches me.
Mami’s arms wrap around me and I return her hug. “Love you, mijo. Don’t forget. Latin lover skills,” she whispers before patting my cheek and stepping out of our hug. She blows Holly a kiss and waves before walking back to my dad, who stands on the sidewalk by the building next to my sisters.
I open the driver’s door and slip into the seat.
“Love you, mijo!” Mami yells as if she hadn’t just said the same thing five seconds before. I chuckle and shake my head, waving at my family through the window.
I start the car, and I’m tempted to turn on my seat heater because where it was warm and loving outside of the car, it’s ice cold inside this metal box on wheels.
Holly won’t look at me but stares out the window.
I leave the car in park.
“Can you put in our address? I don’t have it memorized yet.”
She turns, tapping the screen to pull up the address to her house on the fancy iPad thingy. She doesn’t say a single word and turns back to her view of the packed parking lot.
Many people think I’m a total goofball. They’re about eighty percent right.
The other twenty percent of me understands serious moments and the need for quiet.
I might feel like talking because I know I messed up our kiss and the silent treatment hurts, but I will not be forcing any conversations on my new wife.
I can respect her need for silence and time to process.
On second thought. I think I might need some silence too.
I drive us through the hills and up to Holly’s house in the Palisades.
It’s a beautiful area up here. I catch a glimpse of the ocean view out my window, and gratitude for God’s creations fills me.
There’s something awe-inspiring about the ocean, and I can’t wait to look at it every day and have that reminder of God’s majesty.
I pull into Holly’s garage and park next to my pickup. Holly immediately unbuckles her seat belt and throws open her door, practically sprinting out of the car.
I lean my head on the steering wheel and let out a deep breath.
I need help. I can’t do this.
I sit up and bow my head.
“Lord, please bless me with the words that will fix what I’ve messed up. Bless me with patience and your love to guide me in my interactions with Holly. I know she’s been hurt and all I want to do is love and protect her. Show me the path you would have me follow.”
My words are loud in the small space, and as I search for more to say, my heart rate calms. I end my prayer. I don’t know what my next steps are, but I know nothing will fix itself by staying in the car.
I walk through the door into Holly’s exquisite kitchen. My stomach grumbles, and I’m tempted to avoid talking to Holly and instead raid her snack stash. But snacks don’t make a full meal.
Note to self—go grocery shopping tomorrow.
I slip off my shoes next to the door and look up, only to see Holly’s face white as snow. The glass cup in her hand rattles against the counter as she puts it down. Her free hand grips the edge of the counter like her life depends on it.
Whatever this is, I will not let it go on. Seeing Holly this unsettled is not something I can handle.
I walk across the hardwood floor, around the kitchen island, to where she’s standing next to the sink. She’s picked up her cup again, but doesn’t take a drink. She holds it in the air, as if frozen in time. Every twitch of her hand is a needle poking me, urging me to do something.
“Holly, can we talk?”
Her hand spasms and water splatters on the counter. I grab the glass out of her hand and set it down. Holly fists her hands on the counter, tilting her chin down and away from me so I can’t see her face. It’s like she’s shrinking into herself.
That won’t do.
I grab a towel and throw it on the puddle of water before slowly approaching my wife again.
Ever so slowly, I inch my hand across the counter toward hers, praying she’ll let me hold it.
I brush her pinky finger with mine, the coldness of her hands surprising me considering it’s a hot afternoon in the middle of summer.
Holly’s hand flips over and I grip her fingers, willing them to soak up my warmth.
“Holly, I know it’s been a crazy day and I messed up. Please come sit and talk with me.”
Holly's fingers tighten around mine as she finally turns toward me. She lifts her chin. Her eyes are like a stormy sea, emotions I can’t name but want to discover raging in their depths.
I walk backward, gently pulling Holly with me as I keep hold of her hand.
I back around the couch and sit in the far corner, letting her take up as much space as she needs.
She pulls her hand from mine and cuddles into the corner of the couch, tucking her legs up and under her white dress, which contrasts with the gray fabric of the couch.
The stark color difference reminds me of how drastically our lives are different now than even a few hours earlier.
There’s a fuzzy throw blanket between us on the back of the couch, so I grab it and drape it over her. If her hands are any indication, she needs as much warmth as she can get. She shuffles around, tucking the blanket in around her until she’s wrapped up like a burrito.
I love burritos.
Color returns to her cheeks, but she won’t meet my eyes. I watch as they look everywhere around the room, except at me.
She’s inspecting the electric fireplace and mantel on the wall now, but I still watch her. I wonder what she’d say if she knew that I turned that thing on and off about twenty times while I was moving my stuff in on Wednesday night with Alex.
What can I say? I’m a boy who can’t resist a good fireplace.
Holly tucks her hand against her chest, and I can hear her clicking her nails together. Patience with skittish animals is something I learned early on my farm. I know I can’t rush this.
A genuine conversation takes two people, and I’m willing to wait until she’s ready to participate.
The clicking of her nails finally stops, and I watch as she takes a deep breath before turning more fully toward me. Her eyes flick to mine for a second before looking back at her hands. “What did you want to talk about?”
She’s using her client voice, the one where she sounds like she doesn’t want to talk to a person but is going to anyway because it’s her job. I’ve only heard it once. Well, really, I overheard it once, when she was at Alex’s house.
Did I catalog that information about Holly away for the future, even though it was almost two years ago?
Yes.
I’ve had a crush on my wife for a long time.
I don’t want Holly’s client voice. I want her.
Mami always says the quickest way to solve something is to jump right in and talk about it. “We never talked about what to do when people expected us to kiss. I’m sorry if the end of the kiss made you uncomfortable.”
Holly’s back straightens, and she looks past me toward the dining room. “It’s fine, Mateo. That’s what a couple does at a wedding. It takes two people to have a kiss like that.”
I will her to look into my eyes, but she doesn’t, and a sigh escapes me. “I know, but we’re not a normal couple. Plus, when a woman says something is fine, it’s not. I have two younger sisters and a mother. So, even though you said it’s fine, I know it’s not.”
Holly’s shoulders drop and her lips quirk. Hopefully, a little banter will help her feel more like herself.
Our eyes meet for a brief second and I savor it.
“I didn’t expect it," she admits. "I didn’t expect to feel things, and I didn’t expect the way you ended the kiss.
It threw me off. I didn’t expect it to throw me off.
I had all these expectations for how the day would go, and then they were blown out of the water.
I know I’m weird because that was hard for me.
This whole day has been weird and hard. I don’t know how to feel, and I don’t even know how I’m feeling.
I’m sorry I’m acting so weird.” She groans and buries her face in her hands.
“You’re not weird, and you said that three times, by the way,” I tease.
She peeks at me through her fingers and I can’t help but smile. She’s adorable.
“Holly, it’s totally understandable to be thrown off by today.
I didn’t think about the fact we’d need to kiss either.
Today is not a typical day by any means.
But I hope you know that I’m not here to disrupt your life.
I’m hoping things can stay pretty typical for you, with just a bit more fun added in now that I’m here. ”
She arches an eyebrow, her lips tilting up at the corners. “Just a little bit of fun?”
An almost smile! Finally. I’m getting somewhere.
I shrug. “Hopefully, a lot of fun. I think we both need more fun in our lives. We work too hard.”
She finally lifts her head and gives it a small shake as she hides her smile.
Thats all the encouragement I need to keep talking.
“I’ll be in your space for a while, but you don’t need to change anything else about your life.
You don’t have to change your last name if you don’t want to.
We can file taxes separately, and all that jazz.
I’ll keep to myself when needed.” I lean forward, because I don’t want her to miss the sincerity of what I say next.
“I don’t expect anything from you, Holly.
But I’d love to be your friend. I could use a friend out here. ”
Holly’s eyes search my face. All she’s going to find is sincerity. A few seconds later, her features soften and the worry line between her eyebrows smooths away. “I can do friends.”
My heart races, but I tell it to calm down. We’ll start in the friendzone and work our way out. “Sweet. Then, whenever you need a date for something, I’ll play the part of a doting husband.”
She stiffens again. “Right. Husband.”
She glances back down and nibbles on her bottom lip.
I wait, trusting my prayer from earlier will be answered. I study Holly for a measure of discernment to know what to say to soothe whatever is bothering my wife.
I close my eyes to think. There’s a spark in my chest, and then my heart burns.
I subtly rub my chest as if it’ll soothe the internal fire of desire to protect and care for Holly.
My feelings for Holly have multiplied by a hundred in less than a second, and the only explanation is that this desire comes from God.
He wants me to protect, care for, and help his precious daughter feel loved and wanted.
The burning sensation lingers in my chest as words fill my mind.
“Holly. The next time we kiss, you’ll need to instigate it.
I won’t push you for any type of affection.
That ball is in your court. I’m here to protect you, to be your friend, and to work on my woodworking projects.
Please know that you can trust me to protect you. I will protect everything about you.”
There’s a fine mist over the oceans of Holly’s eyes, which I will never tire of studying.
“Thank you, Mateo,” she whispers as she tucks her hair behind her ear and gives me a small, but genuine smile. “I’m going to go take a nap. I think I need a reset.”
I nod and watch as she leaves and turns into her room, down the hallway past the kitchen.
Her door closes and I lean back, running my hands through my hair, disrupting all the hard work Cruz put into taming my curls.
The ball is in Holly’s court when it comes to physical affection, but I can’t help but wish I could kiss her again.
After all, it’s technically our wedding night.