Chapter 17 Uncle Larry
ANNA'S POV
My dad let out a small smile, still looking at Daniel like he was telling some kind of bad joke. For a few seconds, the room was quiet except for the faint ticking of the wall clock. I glanced between both of them, my brows furrowing in confusion.
Who was Uncle Larry?
“Is this a joke?” my dad finally said after realizing Daniel wasn’t laughing or cracking a smile. His tone was half curious, half desperate, as if he wanted so badly for Daniel to say it was all some misunderstanding.
“Dad,” Daniel began softly, shaking his head. “I would never come back into town just to tell you a joke like this. Ryan called me a few minutes ago to tell me.”
I watched the color slowly drain from my father’s face. His smile faded completely, replaced by a blank stare as his gaze drifted toward the floor. His hands trembled slightly as he whispered, “Larry…” His voice broke midway through the name, the word barely leaving his lips.
“Take a seat,” my mom said immediately, her voice calm but heavy with concern as she guided him toward the couch.
“Go get your dad his pills,” she said to Daniel. He didn’t waste a second, he turned and rushed to the room.
“Take a slow, deep breath, okay? Don’t over-stress yourself,” my mom whispered, rubbing his shoulder gently. “Dan is coming with your pills.”
“I don’t need my pills,” my dad said suddenly, his voice louder now, sharp and trembling with emotion.
“John…” my mom started, but he cut her off, his voice cracking.
“My best friend is gone,” he said, his hands tightening into fists before burying his face in his palms. “And you’re talking to me about pills.”
His voice dropped lower, thick with grief. I froze, not sure what to say. The man sitting before me, the strong, composed father I’d known all these years looked broken.
So, this Uncle Larry… he wasn’t just anyone. He was that important to my dad? His best friend? How did I never know about him?
“I’m sorry about Larry,” my mom said gently. “It pains my heart to hear this news too, but you need to take it easy, alright?”
A moment later, Daniel hurried back, holding a small white pill bottle. He set it carefully on the table.
“I’m fine,” my dad muttered, still not looking up. “There’s no need for me to take those.”
“Okay,” Daniel said quietly. “We’ll just leave them here in case you need them later.”
There was a thick silence in the room after that, I hesitated before sitting down next to my dad.
“Dad,” I said softly, “I’m really sorry for your loss. I’m sure he was a great friend.”
He finally lifted his head, his eyes glistening. “He was,” he said, his voice raw. “Larry was both a good friend and a good business partner.”
I nodded slowly, storing that detail away. So they weren’t just close friends, they built something together. That explained the shock in his eyes when he heard the news.
“Did Ryan say anything about the burial?” my mom asked after a short pause, her tone gentle but steady.
“Yes,” Daniel replied, glancing at both of them. “The burial’s next week.”
My dad exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. “In that case, we’re going back to America. There’s no way I’m missing his funeral.”
My heart skipped a beat.
Back to America?
The name alone made my chest tighten. That place carried too many painful memories — memories I had spent the last five years burying, forcing myself to forget. Going back there… It felt like reopening an old wound I had barely managed to heal.
But how could I say no? This wasn’t just any trip, it was for my dad’s best friend’s funeral. It would be selfish of me to stay behind while everyone else went.
My mom looked at me knowingly before speaking. “We’re all going,” she said. “Larry was a close friend to me too, he was like a brother.”
Her words carried quiet pain, and for the first time, I realized how deeply this loss ran through our family.
My dad turned toward me, placing a hand gently on mine. “I know going back there might make you uncomfortable or bring back memories,” he said softly. “So if you don’t want to come along, don’t be afraid to say it, alright?”
His eyes met mine, full of understanding.
For a second, I wanted to accept the offer, to stay behind, to keep my distance from the ghosts that waited for me in America. But no. I wasn’t the same girl I had been five years ago. The frightened, broken version of me who had once run away from her pain was gone.
I took a deep breath, forcing a small smile. “It’s fine,” I said. “I’ll come along too. Besides, this would also give me the opportunity to finally meet my sister when she’s done.”
My mom smiled faintly, pride flickering in her eyes. My dad nodded once, as if relieved.
“Alright then,” Daniel said, exhaling. “Guess we should start packing.”
I turned toward him. “Are you sure you’re fine missing your competition?” I asked. “You’ve been waiting for it for months, Daniel. It’s important.”
He shrugged, giving me a reassuring smile. “I can join another competition when we get back to America,” he said simply. “Besides, Ryan just lost his dad. He’s my best friend, I need to be there for him.”
My mom nodded approvingly. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Dan.”
The atmosphere in the room softened a bit after that. The grief still lingered, but it felt more controlled, less suffocating.
My dad leaned back on the couch, silent, his thoughts clearly miles away. I could only imagine what was going through his head, years of friendship, laughter, trust, all gone in one unexpected phone call.
I glanced at the pill bottle on the table, still unopened, the label catching the light.
Outside, snow began to fall softly against the window, faint white flakes landing on the glass before melting away. It was quiet, peaceful, but underneath that calmness was the sound of a girl bracing herself for another storm.
We were going back to America.
Back to the place where everything changed for me.