i canât stop imagining leon and his SOâs family
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he doesnât remember his own much at all.
so when heâs welcomed into yours, heâs subdued but polite, crammed between your cousins, aunts, and uncles in the living room. itâs the first youâve seen him look truly uncomfortable.
your family clocks it immediately and theyâre there, making it their mission to include him.
your uncle takes him by shoulder like theyâre conspiring together as he goes around firing his stupid inside jokes, bringing him up to speed on each one, even âcooking one up specialâ just for him.
your grandma asks him to help her in the kitchen with the dish thatâs been in the family for generations, a favorite for gatherings, insisting he wear one of her handmade apronsâa right of passage that you all had to endure when you were younger.
your cousins get a beer or two in him and shockingly manage to tap him in for flag football. and you canât look away from him rolling in the grass, laughing, a rare smile on his face.
your mom, your aunts, your grandma give him the biggest squeezes as you leave, like they can sense that heâs not used to itâyour aunts coyly cracking jokes about how they âcan barely fitâ their arms around him while your mom shoos them off.
on the drive home, you canât help but notice his faraway expression, the quirk of his lips.
âso. whatâd you think?â
and his look is nothing short of bittersweet, a long-buried grief there, so raw that you take his hand and trace your thumb over his knuckles, understanding.
he never thought he would have any of this. an orphan, marriedâhostageâto the will of the government, his work. yet here he is, here you are.
your mom sends him little gifts âjust becauseâ she saw them out shopping and immediately thought of him. your dad messages him funny videos that remind him of âthat one timeâ they hung out. your nieces and nephews constantly ask if uncle leon is coming to their soccer game, their birthday party, their school play.
all filling a wound he didnât speak about. one that used to yawn wider as each phase of his life came and went, but was now slowly knitting closed.
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