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It was my dad.
I answered, “Hey Dad, what’s wrong?”
It was minutes to midnight. He wouldn’t have called so late unless something was wrong.
“Hi honey, I’m sorry to call so late but I just had to talk to someone. I just had a big blow out with Joe and he ran out. I’m worried about your brother. He has been hanging with bad crowd lately and he gets testy every time I try to talk to him about it. I’m just worried he will end up in trouble.”
I bit back a sigh.
My parents adopted a very overprotective style of parenting and Joe hadn’t been reacting to the helicopter parenting well lately. He was a young man starting to form his own opinions about the world and their attempts to figuratively keep him protected in bubble wrap was causing tension.
They had had several blow ups as of late and if Dad didn’t let up, it wouldn’t get better any time soon.
Dad was most likely worried for nothing. Joe had a good head on his shoulders and wasn’t easily swayed by others. Still, I told my father what he needed to hear.
“I’ll talk to him, Dad.”
He made a sound of relief and replied, “Thanks, sweetie. If anyone can get through to him it is you.”
***
That next morning, Joe and I were seated at Angie’s Bakery having scones. I had kept my promise to my father, I’d check in. We’d eat some delicious baked goods and Joe would tell me he was fine and then we could all move on. I was sure of it.
Except when I arrived, it looked like Dad had been a least a little bit right. I noticed how tired Joe looked. Haggard even.
Finally, Joe broke our carb induced silence.
“Let me guess? Dad asked you to speak to me.”
Looking even closer, I saw that he had lost some weight and his movements were a little nervous in nature.
I frowned. Dad may be right to worry this time.
“He is just worried about you, you know,” I said.
Joe made an exasperated sound and put his scone down as if it suddenly left a bad taste in his mouth.
“God, not you too,” he groaned.
“Why are you being so defensive?” I asked him. “I just want to know how my little brother is doing. Why is that wrong?”
“I do not need you to look out for me. I’m a big boy,” he replied.
“You’re never going to be too old for me to look out for you. I’m your big sister. It’s what big sisters do.”
I reached out and took a hold of his hand. “You would come to me if something was wrong, right? You can trust me with whatever.”
I was suddenly worried that I had been so wrapped up in my own life that I had been neglecting on my older sis duties. My family may have their annoying moments but I loved them with all my heart and would do anything for them.
Joe rolled his eyes like I was being dumb, pulling his hand away. “Of course I know that.”
“Then talk to me,” I said and I remembered someone else besieging me in a similar way not too long ago.
I pushed that thought back.
“There is nothing to talk about,” Joe said and that response sounded hauntingly familiar too. “I have everything under control.”
Joe wiped his hand on a napkin, most of his scone left untouched.
