The Family Recipe

Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

Jude

In the past four months, Jude found himself doing all the obligatory, public-facing things that required +1s. Dinner parties, friends’ birthdays, he even went to his first musical, and didn’t hate it as much as he thought he would. But why did they have to burst into song randomly like that? It was a jump scare every time. He also didn’t even mind Phoebe’s crusty, old white dog, who was blind in one eye and had to wear a diaper. For not being a dog person, he found her dog was rather sweet, saccharine even. Jude had never been in a proper, committed relationship before, but he imagined that this was what it felt like, to appear on someone’s arm, to smile appropriately, to make the right commentary, and to go to all the dog-friendly breweries. To feel… needed. Granted, Phoebe made things easy, especially when there were no real expectations and everything they did was for show.

But again, he didn’t hate it all as much as he thought he would.

While Jude wanted to rush into a quick courthouse ceremony and sign the papers, Phoebe’s father refused and held firm. Mr. Ph?ong insisted on a proper banquet wedding, complete with the meeting of the families first. Though Jude kept trying to explain that his mother had abandoned them and couldn’t be found (correction: didn’t want to be found), and that his father, Duc, was hiding in Vietnam, only reachable through his lawyer, Mr. Ph?ong was adamant.

Well, what about his sisters?

Well, it’s a little complicated, sir. They all hate me and want me to miserably fail so they can cut me from the inheritance. They think my father favors me the most ’cause I’m the firstborn son, when in reality, our father can’t differentiate one from the other.

But Mr. Ph?ong pressed him; he must meet someone from the family, any representative. Any warm body would do. It was tradition, after all. And for a rather unconventional marriage, wouldn’t it be good to maintain some modicum of tradition?

Frustrated, Jude almost chose another file from the stack of other potential matches, someone who would be able to sign the papers today, just to get the marriage certificate. But something about Phoebe made Jude want to try. Maybe it was the way he laughed about how she could crochet while simultaneously being on the treadmill, or the fact that she cared so intensely about a blind and deaf old dog. Or the fact that, late at night, he often found himself calling her, pretending to have a wedding question, and how she would pick up right away, and how they would laugh for what felt like eternity, pretending to be in love.

What was a month or two of waiting? His sisters couldn’t possibly turn their dumpster fire of stores around before he got married, right?

Jude decided to try harder than he had for anyone before. Surely, his father would come out of exile to show up for his only son’s wedding. He was certain his father would fly out to meet Mr. Ph?ong and his future daughter-in-law if Jude asked. But as the thought of a wedding began to crystallize in his mind, the more the pit in his stomach ballooned, because he realized just how broken his family really was. If the year continued on like this, he was terrified that no one from his side would show up for him. Especially not his sisters.

How far was he willing to go, if that just meant standing in front of the altar alone, with no one by his side?

The next day, Jude drove through Bellaire, making pit stops in front of old childhood haunts, like a celebrity tour bus for repressed memories. He narrated each spot in his mind, explaining to himself why it was important to him, and who the key players were. He didn’t know why the nostalgia was so heavy on this particular day, especially since he rarely drove through Bellaire unless he was forced to. But as he passed by the old family temple, he pulled over and turned off the engine, staring at the gigantic Buddha statue that sat in the middle of the grounds. He remembered the last day he’d ever attended this particular temple. His mother begged him to go back, but he couldn’t stand the people who went there anymore. Evelyn either turned a blind eye to their behavior, or she didn’t care—both of which pissed him off at ten years old, validating that his mother was the enemy. The staring and snickering were manageable, but he couldn’t stand the fake niceties to his face, only to overhear them gossiping about him later.

Jude’s a bastard. Duc isn’t his father. Looks nothing like him .

You know his mom’s a whore, right?

Once a whore, always a whore.

Jude turned the car back on and headed straight to his father’s office, a tiny three-room suite in an old plaza. Nestled at the far end of the neighborhood, it looked nearly abandoned. It was also uncomfortably close to the highway, the sound of cars whizzing past like an F1 race. Since Duc got remarried to Connie, he stopped going into the office, but Jude yearned for the old days, when things were simpler, when his child self would follow his father into the office, and sleep under his desk with his plushies, waiting.

As he pulled into the parking lot, he was surprised to see one car there. Who could possibly be in now? He cautiously approached the office and recognized Mr. Ng? hunched over his desk, poring over papers, puffing on a cigarette. Through the dirty, speckled window, the old lawyer looked distracted, his forehead wrinkled in stress. He watched the lawyer black out large paragraphs with a Sharpie. Just as Jude thought about quietly leaving before Mr. Ng? could catch him, they locked eyes, forcing Jude to awkwardly wave through the window. Mr. Ng? waved for him to come in, but as always, with the neutral lawyer, there was no expression attached to the wave.

“Jude,” Mr. Ng? said, setting his cigarette down on his ashtray, its smoke trail snaking all the way to the ceiling. “What brings you here early on a Saturday morning? Shouldn’t you be out at a club?”

“Why would you assume I’d be at a club?” Jude asked defensively. “It’s ten in the morning.”

“Because, well, you’re always at a club. I don’t know how clubs work, though,” he said matter-of-factly, before finally putting down his marker and leaning back. “How is the wedding planning? How is the lovely bride-to-be? Phoebe is her name, right?”

Jude hovered awkwardly at the doorframe, not moving in. He wrung his hands together. He never really knew how to address or talk to his father’s longtime associate, someone he informally referred to as “uncle” at family parties. Mr. Ng? was always around , but he just didn’t know Mr. Ng?.

“Fine,” he said rather unenthusiastically. “It’s going great. We’re excited.”

“Just fine? Just great? Just excited? Is she not the love of your life?”

Jude continued to loiter, unwilling to expose his vulnerabilities to Mr. Ng?. He spotted his father’s desk, a few feet away from Mr. Ng?’s. The large oak desk sat empty and dusty, untouched by movement for the past few years. Drawn toward it, Jude walked over and traced a finger along the edge, dust clinging to his index finger, leaving a streak. As he circled the desk, he spotted the old fort he had made and realized that his father had still kept it up, even long after Jude stopped coming in. Along with his father’s desk, his fort and childhood memories were frozen in time. He was touched. Fond memories flooded in; of him hiding underneath his father’s desk as a child and forming a small fort, complete with blankets, a flashlight, comic books, and a rigged curtain fastened with duct tape and old red plastic strings that were supposed to be used to wrap up bánh mì.

“Wow,” he whispered. “The old man kept it up.”

Mr. Ng? caught on. “Your father loved it when you accompanied him to work, you know.”

“I’d never have known.” Jude chuckled dryly. “Always thought I was a nuisance. All I ever remember was him telling me to quiet down.”

“Well, your voice does carry for miles,” Mr. Ng? joked. “Especially when you did your stuffed dinosaur battles.”

Surprised, Jude returned a halfhearted chuckle. “Good memory. I forgot how obsessed I was with dinosaurs.”

“I remember everything, unfortunately. Perhaps, it’s a curse I bear,” the old lawyer responded. “So, Jude, what can I help you with?”

Finally loosened, Jude walked over to sit down across from Mr. Ng? and unleashed everything. “Do you know why my father hasn’t responded to my wedding invitation yet? It’s been months. Mrs. V?ong said that my father liked Phoebe’s profile the best, so why hasn’t he said anything yet? Not even congratulations? Why hasn’t he come back to meet Phoebe’s father in person? Mr. Ph?ong won’t bless our marriage unless someone from the family meets him. And well, you know how it is with my family…”

Mr. Ng? sighed and leaned back in his swivel chair, watching the smoke of his cigarette slowly die out, until the cigarette fizzled into nothing but ash. Jude took in his uncle, his receding hairline, his ill-fitting suit, the way his aging, protruding beer belly didn’t seem to fit his frame. Jude couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. How could a man like Mr. Ng? spend his entire life catering to Duc and his family, and never have a family of his own? But Jude didn’t feel sorry in the sense he thought Mr. Ng? was lonely. He felt sorry that Mr. Ng? got stuck with a fucked-up family like his. What would Mr. Ng?’s life have turned out like, had he attached himself to a normal family? Jude couldn’t shake the fear that he might grow up to be like Mr. Ng? one day—alone with a beer belly, and someone’s eternal sidekick.

“I’ll go meet Mr. Ph?ong in your father’s place.” Mr. Ng? finally spoke, and he got up and grabbed his car keys. “Let’s go.”

“But my father, I need my father—” Jude stammered.

“Yes, he wants to make sure you’re making the right choice first. I’ll go.”

Before Jude could ask any more questions about Duc, he found himself in the passenger seat of Mr. Ng?’s beat-up Volkswagen, pushing aside stacks of old newspapers and empty glass coffee bottles. For all the riches that Duc and Mr. Ng? had made together over the decades, Jude couldn’t find two more diametrically opposite men. While Duc paraded his riches in front of every neighbor, Mr. Ng? was more subdued, hiding his wealth like a squirrel. But for someone who didn’t have a family of his own, Jude wondered what on earth he did with all his money and time.

It was almost as if Mr. Ph?ong knew the two men were coming to find him. He had a pack of Heineken, fishing poles, bait, and some cold cuts ready to go in his truck—or perhaps it was just the Vietnamese father’s starter survival pack, and he always had this ready to go, at any given notice.

Jude felt that sting again in his heart, seeing a good father come prepared. Mr. Ph?ong’s face lit up, ecstatic to finally get to meet someone from Jude’s side of the family, who would potentially be his family one day. Though Jude and Phoebe both lost their mothers in different ways at a young age, he envied that Phoebe still had a parent who was present—someone who actually cared. Someone who knew what she did for fun, who her friends were, and what she liked to eat. The small drop of envy turned into heartache as Jude watched Mr. Ng? shake Mr. Ph?ong’s hand, and Mr. Ng? introduced himself as Jude’s uncle. Mr. Ph?ong didn’t question if he was his biological uncle or not; he just accepted it as a statement—that Mr. Ng? was family.

Mr. Ph?ong ushered them both into his truck, and he took off toward Lake Houston for a second time. Jude recognized where they were going, the lake where Mr. Ph?ong taught him how to fish. For a while, the conversation was standard between the two men, while Jude kept quiet, feeling like a small child under scrutiny. They asked each other when they both came over to America. Were you part of the ’75 crowd? And then they asked which refugee camp they ended up in. Philippines or Thailand? Eventually, as all curious immigrants do, Mr. Ph?ong asked how Duc and Mr. Ng? got started on the chain, how it was funded, and how it grew to the brand it is known as today. Jude knew the standard story. The first shop did so well that they took a bet on opening up another shop, and then it became a domino effect. But to his surprise, Mr. Ng? glossed over it, changing topics to Phoebe, whereas Duc would have fully launched into a speech for several hours about how he had achieved the American dream. Mr. Ph?ong was more than happy to brag about his daughter.

Once they got down to the lake, Mr. Ph?ong started up the boat, and the three men took off toward the center. To the quieter part, where the waters were darker. Once settled, Mr. Ph?ong whipped out several folding lawn chairs, and the men settled comfortably into position, their fishing lines cast, and the sound of beer tabs being opened filled the air. Jude assumed the two men would continue talking, perhaps even grill each other about the finances, the nuptials, or even going over general elderly Vietnamese men’s grievances (the traffic, inflation, and the rising interest rate), but the men instantly grew mute. For the next few hours, not another word was uttered, except for the small ecstatic sounds of reeling in a fish, or asking to pass another can of beer. And when Jude tried to cut the silence, he was met with even more debilitating silence. He was used to Duc being loud, obnoxious, and always talking a mile a minute over everyone, so it was a rather abrupt adjustment to hear his own thoughts again.

Bored, perhaps anxious, Jude got up and walked over to the edge of the boat. He peered into the blackened waters, and wondered how deep the lake was. He lowered and lowered himself trying to find his reflection in the water, wondering if the fish could see him, and wondered what they thought of him, and if they felt sorry for him.

Jude was suddenly yanked back so hard, he fell on his back. Sharp pain shot through him. He cried out in frustration, and as he looked up he saw Mr. Ng? staring down at him, his oval face perfectly blocking out the sun.

“Stay away from the edge of the boat,” Mr. Ng? said sternly. It was the sternest Jude had ever heard him talk to him before. “It’s not safe. And you don’t know how to swim well.” Before Jude could talk back, the lawyer was gone and settled back into his lawn chair.

Mr. Ph?ong piped up, giving a half chuckle. “Don’t worry, if Jude ever drowns, Phoebe is a certified lifeguard, she can save him.”

Mr. Ng? grunted an approval, but did not say anything else.

Rubbing his behind, Jude reluctantly went back to his lawn chair, casting Mr. Ng? an annoyed look for treating him like a child.

By the time the sun set, Jude had elderly-Vietnamese-men fatigue and was ready to go home. As the men silently packed up, and drove the boat back to shore, to head back to the city, he wondered if he had passed the requirements that Mr. Ph?ong needed in order to move forward with the marriage. At the idea of possibly failing the test, Jude was surprised to feel anxiety. The potential of calling off the wedding pained him more than it should have, especially when Phoebe’s face came to mind.

To his surprise, before he got into the truck, he felt Mr. Ph?ong’s hand on his shoulder. As he turned around to face him, Mr. Ph?ong stuck out his hand.

“Anyone with an uncle like yours, I know your father is a good man,” Mr. Ph?ong said gruffly. “I know that your father would have met me personally if he was in town. But you’re surrounded by good men, so I know you are a good man for my daughter.”

Jude shook his hand back, unsure what to think. In the corner of his eye, he saw Mr. Ng? pretending to be busy, though the corners of his lips were turned up slightly.

A rare, barely noticeable smile.

When Jude got back to his car, something overcame his motor functions, and he found himself getting off at a different exit, toward Montrose. Before he realized it, he was soon in front of Phoebe’s apartment complex. He’d only been there once before, when he dropped off a box of wedding invitations, but he’d never been inside. What were her tastes? What movies was she into? What was her favorite album? Favorite ice cream flavor? He wanted to know it all. But most of all, he wanted to tell her how great the day was. How he’d gotten better at fishing, and how great her father was.

How really great her father was.

He couldn’t wait to tell her that he had gotten her father’s approval to move forward with the wedding. He parked the car and looked up at her window, suddenly feeling like a creep. Her main bedroom light was on.

Tonight felt different somehow. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he had accomplished something toward the betterment of his life, and he had her to thank for it. He worked up the courage to get out of the car, and found his way to the apartment call box. He scrolled through the names frantically, missing her name on purpose several times, forcing him to keep starting over, until he finally pressed the call box for a Ph?ong, P. Apt. 302.

“Hello?” Phoebe’s confused voice came through the call box, distorted. Hearing her voice after a long day made Jude smile. His father’s words from the letter reared their head again at him. Duc’s words kept eating away at him, and Jude couldn’t help but wonder if he had finally found his joy.

Son, I look at you and wonder if you will ever find your joy.

“Hey, it’s… me,” Jude said, his mind unfocused, his words wobbly. He felt embarrassed for being there so late.

“Who? Sorry, I didn’t order any delivery,” she responded.

His heart beat faster. “It’s me. Jude.” Silence. A beat. Perhaps, a mistake.

“Jude? What are you doing here?” Her voice sounded strained, but surprised.

“I… I was just driving by. I just came back from fishing with your father. Again.”

More silence. “You want to come up?”

Jude was grateful she couldn’t see his face now. A wide grin had erupted across it. He felt like he had just won the World Series, seen the northern lights, caught a shooting star, or witnessed a blue moon. This must be what everyone talked about when they talked about love.

“Yes,” he responded. As he recalled the day’s events, he remembered how Mr. Ng? had lectured him to stay away from the boat’s edge. “I heard you’re a good swimmer.”

Phoebe laughed. “I am. I can save you if you ever start to drown.”

“That’s good to know about a future wife.”

The gate buzzed open, and Jude walked through without another thought.