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After George drops me off, I hoof it the rest of the way to my uncle’s. When I walk in, I find Cynthia in the kitchen making chocolate chip cookies. “What’s all of this?” I ask her as I enter. “Do you need any help?”
Cynthia looks up. “I’m just about finished. Did you have fun last night? How did your exams go?”
I grab one of the cookies. They’re still warm and practically dissolve in my mouth in gooey chocolate decadence. “We did. My exams were fine. I’m just glad I only have one semester left.”
“It’ll be here before you know it,” Cynthia says as she spoons the last of the batter onto the pan. “After that comes a lot of hard work, and it’s not always fun. Just ask your uncle.”
“Aunt Cynthia, did Uncle Owen always want to be an accountant?”
She laughs as she puts the tray in the oven. “Did I ever tell you that when I met him he was in a college band?”
My eyes widen in disbelief. “Uncle Owen?”
Cynthia nods. “He even hadlongishhair.”
Now I’m really confused! “What happened? How did Uncle Owen become…Uncle Owen?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “I guess you could say life happened. His parents were free spirits. It was something he loved and hated about them at the same time. He put himself through college, you know? He had to do everything on his own. They never cared about making a living, saving money for emergencies. So, when it came time to settle down and get a real job, he did.” She pauses. “Sometimes I wish he would let himself have a little more fun, but I can understand. When you are raised in instability, sometimes you go off in the opposite direction.”
“It’s a shame I never met my grandparents.”
“I know, honey. Your grandfather died when Owen was in his second year of college. He doesn’t even know where his mother is now. She just ran off, leaving Owen and your mother to fend for themselves. Well, she really left Owen to fend for both of them. He always felt responsible for her.” She shakes her head sadly. “He always has put too much on himself. Some things can’t be controlled.”
“Why are you just now telling me this? All my life, I was told my grandparents died before I was born. That was it.”
Cynthia nods in acknowledgment. “That was what your uncle felt was best. It was cleaner. I’m telling you now so that maybe you will understand him better, why he tends to be so strict.”
Standing up, I pour myself a glass of milk. “I love my uncle. I may not always agree with him, but I love him.”
“He loves you, too.” Cynthia pours some hot water into a mug, steeping a teabag. “You’ve always been like a daughter to us.”
I wish I could tell her about George. I’m about to burst with excitement and want to tell the ones I love, but I know it’s too soon. I don’t want to upset Owen and Cynthia if it turns out George doesn’t feel the same way. No, it’s best if I keep this under wraps for the time being.
