Page 34 of Strictly Against Policy

“Well, niceness can be fake and performative. Kindness is genuine and sincere. Andy’s kind. He’d go out of his way to make sure you’re fine without anything in return. The men you like are kind.”

I let his explanation sink in. I had never thought of people like that before. Nice versus kind people. Not many people in my inner circle were kind. Not Mai or Neng, at least not to me. My parents were often seen as ‘nice’ in front of others when they wanted to be performative, but they were never genuinely kind. Most of their antics were propped up for whatever image they thought they needed to uphold.

Mary and Eric, on the other hand, were the kindest people I ever knew. They never hesitated to be there for me in all the little and big ways. Aside from them, I couldn’t think of anyone else.

Jonathan pulled the truck into the lot of the rental facility. I waited for him to put the gear into park and turn it off before I spoke up.

“You’re a kind person, Jonathan,” I breathed.

Our gazes met. His dark-coffee eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion. “I’m also a man, Lina.”

He stepped out of the vehicle. I clambered out as well and followed him into the office to pay for the rental, heat searing my skin from head to toe. Since he insisted on taking us to the rental facility this morning, he drove us here. We said nothing to one another in his car. Mostly because I didn’t know how to respond to him.

Jonathan is kind.

I didn’t expect it since he made it clear he never liked me when I started working with him. It wasn’t just with snarky remarks he’d make, but also the way he treated or even reacted to me: the silence. The snarl he wore even when glancing at me. Even the lack of acknowledgment at times.

That was why—when I saw the worry etched into the furrow of his brows and stress yanking the line of his lips into a deep frown this past week—I was surprised. I never expected him to extend himself to the point of helping me today. I never expected him to care at all.

“Hi! I’m Shoua! It’s so nice to finally meet you,” said Jonathan’s cousin.

She had this beautiful glow in her sun-kissed skin, a big and warm smile, and the prettiest hooded eyes. I didn’t know her. Yet, I remembered her from high school because she and Andy Hughes used to always walk together through the quad to their sixth period, with Jonathan tagging along in the same direction. For a year, I thought she was his girlfriend. I later found out, after they had both graduated, that they were just close friends and nothing more.

I also remembered when she and Anthony Hughes came by the pharmacy a couple of weeks ago. She was very sunny and kind. “Jonathan has talked so much about you!” she continued.

I heard him audibly groan from a corner of the room and glanced at him. His lips pursed to a deep frown and his arms folded across his wide chest.

I was unsure of how exactly to respond. The nervousness from meeting new people in a personal setting had sweat forming on my upper lip and rolling down my back. “W-what has he said about me?” my voice cracked stiffly.

“He loves to tell us how much he admires you and your work ethic,” said Anthony, lying through his teeth. The bright smile he beamed was welcoming as he stepped closer to Shoua. “We’re all glad you’re able to join us.”

I bobbed my head up and down rigidly, attempting not to be more socially awkward than I probably already was in front of Jonathan’s friends and family. My palms became clammy, and more sweat beaded off my back.

“I-I figured I should save you the trip to my door since you’d come knocking if I weren’t here,” I said.

Anthony’s smile tugged into a broad grin, and he let out this shrill laugh that easily made me chuckle with him. “I like you, Lina.” He looked toward the direction Jonathan stood. “Jonathan! Bring her around more often! She’s funny!”

I turned to look at him. He was in the middle of scoffing, “That’s not for me to decide.”

“Enough talking. You two, come eat!” Julie said.

She quickly ushered Jonathan and I into the kitchen like a Hmong mom who wasn’t shy to stuff her kids full with food. I smiled as the scents of cinnamon, cloves, star anise, and the other spices in the phở broth enveloped me. The air in the kitchen was thick, heavy, and humid from the careful, slow simmering of beef bones.

From the valleys of Southern China, to the lush hills of the rice fields and jungles of Laos, to here in Jonathan’s sister’s kitchen, the Hmong people have always used food as their love language. Whether it was through the salt and black pepper boiled chicken thigh my grandmother fed me growing up, or even the scrambled eggs she used to make for me whenever I came home from school as a kid, it had all been made with love. I hadn’t felt that in years, not since she passed after high school.

However, I felt that gentle warmth here.

Andy Hughes and Julie Lo watched me carefully as we all squeezed around the dining table together to eat. Sweat continued to bead across my upper lip as I avoided their gazes. Andy still looked similar to the vibrant memories I had of him from high school.

He was, and still is, all boyish grins, warm laughs, and gentle hazel-green eyes. Julie, his wife and Jonathan’s older sister, was no different. Beautiful as ever with her big and round eyes, cute button nose, and soft smile. Both as sweet as I remembered them being.

Jonathan leaned over the table and shooed them away with a wave of his hand like they were flies buzzing too close.

“Stop watching her and just eat! I can’t believe you all waited for us to even start!” he said. His thigh brushed against mine under the table as he sat back in place.

His warmth made me feel oddly relaxed, and I just stayed there. He pulled his thigh away to leave a sliver of space between the two of us. He made no indication he noticed the minor physical contact, nor did I. The good thing was that I wasn’t half as nervous as I was when I sat down across from Julie and Andy.

“I just want to make sure Lina liked the phở broth I made!” Julie said defensively to her brother. Her cheeks were burning as she turned to me. “Sorry about that, Lina. If it’s not to your liking, I’ll make something else for you.”