Lucas was determined not to cry. He could feel his eyes starting to prick and water, but he blinked it away, swallowing the impulse to take another step forward. Exactly why was lost on him; his mind had gone strangely blank watching his aunt -- who had been nothing but strong for him -- suddenly hanging onto someone else as if her life depended on it.
He'd expected it to mean so much, simply because he knew how he'd feel if James or April walked through the door -- but he hadn't expected to be able to see it like this, be able to share it. And then there was everything else: for as much as Uncle B was family, for as much as he was starting to remember and the growing grin on his pointed face, Uncle B wasn't his brother or his dad.
Still.
"Yeah, I'm fucking big," Luke echoed matter-of-factly, shrinking somewhat under the unexpected embrace -- though after a moment he couldn't help but return it, hugging his Uncle tightly to him.
Don't cry too don't cry too don't cry too. It was enough that one man was crying up in here. Luke's dad had never cried about a thing in his life.
"Nineteen," he added then, wishing he could get away with saying a different number.