He pulled away from Olivia and mopped at his tears with the back of his hands.
“Why are you crying, Uncle Eric?” O2 asked as if sensing the same thing we did.
This was about more than really liking the aesthetic we’d chosen for his wedding. Olivia and I exchanged a sympathetic look over his shoulder. I figured Eric would be happy when Olivia, O2, and I showed him the flower-covered lattice archway and the rows of white chairs we’d set up for his wedding on Glendaver Castle’s back lawn.īut I didn’t think he’d burst into tears, turning the light yellow sleeve of Olivia’s dress dark with his guttural sobs. Meanwhile, I rubbed his back, trusting the vaccines we got toward the beginning of the year to keep us safe. But Olivia immediately pulled Eric into her arms-as best she could with her six-month pregnant belly. Lord knew we’d learned our lesson about giving anyone unnecessary hugs over the last few years.
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