Luke watched the exchange between his uncle and Taisce with mild amusement; mostly he just fidgeted, suddenly nervous about his choice of gift. When O'Brien took him in his arms, there was an awkward moment of fumbling with the guitar as he returned the embrace.
"Yeahhhh. Sorry. Had to do it."
Pulling away, Luke nodded to the cookie and its seventy something candles. "We're so thoughtful, I know."
Okay. Hmm.
Okay.
There was another strum of the guitar as Luke deliberated; he threw Taisce a questioning look. What now? Do something. Maybe they should all have a drink. Or maybe if they all ate some pie, it would soften the blow of how potentially stupid his song was. Oh my god. Is this stage fright? There was no stage, though, and Luke wasn't supposed to get nervous. Ever.