Page 69 of Some Things Never Change

This was my mom’s best friend and her husband. Ever since my dad passed away two decades ago, they had been nothing but the rock my small family needed. Although we lost our dad, we also gained a bigger close-knit family all because of the Hugheses and their love for us.

“Thank you for everything you all have done for us—for my mom, Julie, and me,” started Jonathan. “If it wasn’t for your family, then it would have been much harder for us after the loss of our dad. I don’t think our lives would have been the same as it is now if you had never moved in next door.”

Jonathan and I gave each other an encouraging glance as my mom’s eyes welled up. The twins warmly wrapped their arms around her shoulders for comfort.

“Thank you for being there for us when my dad couldn’t,” I continued. “Uncle Gary and Auntie Gao, I don’t think you both know how much it means to Jonathan and I when you always include us on your summer trips or all of the birthday and Christmas gifts you get us. You both always go out of your way to love us as if we’re one of your own and we can never thank you enough for that. My mom, Jonathan, and I appreciate all your family has done for us deeply and greatly.”

Uncle Gary looked at me with those same beautiful hazel green eyes Andy had, glassy and emotional. “Your dad was a great and incredibly kind man. He was my first friend here and I’ll never forget how open and warm he was to me,” he said. His voice was hoarse and cracked. “I promised your dad one thing when I found out he passed away and it was that I’d love you both as my own. I knew your dad. I knew his kindness and his big heart. Without a doubt, he would have done the same for Andy and Anthony as well. So, from that day forward, you two became our kids.”

I never knew about this pledge Uncle Gary made to my dad. Uncle Gary would always speak fondly of him. They were good friends and often went on camping and fishing trips together. While my dad was obsessed with soccer and Uncle Gary loved basketball, the two of them often watched soccer and basketball matches together. My dad indoctrinated Uncle Gary into his obsession with soccer. He had been watching soccer ever since. But I never knew this.

Jonathan and I turned to each other, stunned. My brother’s eyes were glassy as he tried to hold back the tears. My throat balled up with emotions as well, almost unable to reply to Uncle Gary.

“We never knew this,” I croaked.

“It’s alright,” said Uncle Gary, now with tear-stained cheeks. “It’s a silent promise between your dad and I, after all.”

God, Andy was just like his dad, making vows and promises to my dad. I felt my heart beat harder at this realization.

“We love you two greatly, Julie and Jonathan.” Auntie Gao smiled as tears poured from her eyes.

“We know and can thank you both enough for that,” I said, with a strained voice.

Uncle Gary was the first to get up to hug us. As he pulled Jonathan into a bear hug, my brother spoke up again. “Thank you for being the dad that I know my dad would have been for me, Uncle Gary.”

This sent the older man over the rails as he began to cry. “You’re welcome,” he said through his tears. He gave Jonathan one final, firm pat on the shoulder then turned to me with a teary smile. “Julie, come here.”

I smiled back as he embraced me in the same big hug he gave Jonathan. “I’d always wanted a girl. You know that, right?”

Auntie Gao and Uncle Gary always wanted more children. But balancing the twins on top of their careers was hard, and they chose not to. Uncle Gary used to lament on how much he wanted a daughter. So, when the Hugheses moved here from Minnesota, he spoiled me rotten. He still spoils me rotten whenever he has the chance.

I sniffed. “Of course.”

Uncle Gary pulled away with a big grin. “Thank you for giving me the opportunity to have a daughter, Julie,” he said, making my chest swell with emotions. “No father could ever ask for a better daughter than you.”

I couldn’t say anything back. I was overbrimming with emotions, tears, and snot. It wasn’t long before Uncle Gary pulled us, his four adult kids, into a huge embrace. After a few more minutes of hugging and wiping tears, my mom and Auntie Gao suggested that we all go out for lunch. As our parents discussed which restaurant they wanted to go to, I felt a hand brush against mine. I turned to see Andy looking at me with a soft smile.

“You okay?” he asked.

I let out a long breath. This was probably the most peace I had ever had with everything in my life for a long time. I was finally the most comfortable and in harmony with work, the city I now called home, my family, and Andy.

As a kid, things were hard because my dad was gone. But the Hugheses made it better by being there. As an adult, I was never truly happy in the city I lived in or with my job there or with the partners I had. I was lonely and suffocating in San Ignacio, in its expensive tiny homes, narrow streets, and cold, foggy summers. But everything had shifted for the better since I moved and started living with Andy.

I nodded, smiling back. I brushed my hand lightly against Andy’s in return. “Never been better.”

The day after my dad’s death anniversary was sunny. It was warm, clearly noting that spring was just around the corner. I was glad I finally got some much-needed alone time with my mom before Shoua got here with Anthony, while Andy and Jonathan were out in the driveway for a one-on-one basketball game.

Shoua and I planned a girls’ outing to go get pedicures and lunch with Auntie Gao and my mom. But before she could get here, I took my alone time with my mom as a chance to ask her something. This was a question I’d always wanted to ask and never had the courage until now.

“Mom?” I called out.

“Hm?”

We were talking about the furniture flipping projects I did. Although she didn’t understand much, she was supportive of my hobby and elated about the extra cash I was making from selling my work. Now probably didn’t seem like the best time to talk about something serious, but I didn’t really seem to have a choice.

I didn’t really have a chance to talk with her last night since our long day with the Hugheses exhausted her and she went to bed earlier. But Andy and I were going to leave later today. I’d rather talk to her in person than over the phone about this.

“Why didn’t you ever remarry?” I asked.

---