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Lucas sat on the plane with his ticket to California in his hand. Just a few days ago, it would have meant going to see Haley again, celebrating Jamie turning seventeen, almost a man. Now the ticket held the stigma of Haley's death, the anxiety of having three children he barely remembered, that barely remembered him, looking for him to tell them everything would be okay again. He knew that was impossible. Nothing would ever be the same, for any of them. So he braced himself for the moment he would have to look in their young, heartbroken eyes and begin a new life based on a lie. "Everything will be okay," he whispered to himself. The man in the seat beside him gave him a strange look, and Lucas turned to stare out the window. The city lights below blurred with his tears.

They were standing by the baggage claim when he first saw them. Jamie was tall; he was probably a good ball player. The little girls were the spitting image of Haley as a child. A short, middle-aged lady was standing with them and she smiled and waved. The children followed slowly as she walked to greet him, the youngest girl clutching Jamie's hand tightly. The woman turned then, looked at the children, spoke in a falsely cheery voice. "All right, then," she said. "Kids, your Uncle Lucas is here to stay with you for a little while. Can you all say hi?"

Lucas watched them and saw Jamie's brow furrow, then straighten. Lucas knew he resented being treated like a child, but was staying strong for his sisters.

"Mrs. Beattie," whispered the little girl, tugging on the bottom of the woman's shirt. "Where are Mama and Daddy? Don't they want to see Uncle Lucas?"

Jamie looked down sharply at his youngest sister. "Mama and Daddy got in an accident, remember, Molly? That's why Uncle Lucas is here. He's going to take care of us until we see Mama and Daddy again." Lucas studied the boy as he reassured his little sister and confirmed what he already knew. Jamie was just as smart and as quick as he had been when he was four. His sisters may not have understood what was going on, but Jamie did. He knew exactly what had happened to his parents and just how long it would be before they saw them again.

"Well then," Mrs. Beattie spoke up again, in that cheery voice that Lucas was beginning to hate. It must have been driving Jamie insane. "Luke, this is Rebecca, Molly, and of course you know Jamie." She pointed to each of the children in turn. Lucas nodded, smiled, shook hands with Jamie. Mrs. Beattie took charge, collected Lucas' luggage and led them to the car. Lucas followed docilely, amazed at the leadership of this stout woman and thankful that he didn't have to be the one with all the answers quite yet.

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Lucas slept in the guest bedroom that night at Haley's house. Mrs. Beattie had stayed through dinner and bedtime and promised to come back the next day. Now, Lucas lay awake. The room was too hot, even with the window open. He wondered how Haley, who had loved snow and winter, had stood this warm, Californian weather for so long. A whimper broke through his thoughts, the soft sobs quickly turning into full-fledged crying. The sound was coming from Molly's room.

The door was slightly ajar when he got there and he could see Jamie's figure crouched by the head of the four-year old's bed. He was whispering to her and rubbing her back, the same way Lucas had for Haley when Nathan had died all those years ago. Jamie glanced up as Lucas approached.

"Hi," Jamie whispered.

"Hi," replied Lucas, softly.

"She misses Mama. Don't worry, I'll stay with her tonight." Lucas nodded, amazed at the maturity of the sixteen year old. Then again, this was Haley's son he was thinking about. Lucas turned and walked out of the room. As he pulled the door shut behind him, he saw Jamie climbing into Molly's bed and pulling his little sister in close to his chest. He reminded Lucas so much of Haley that it hurt, but he was glad to have a piece – or three – of her left.

***********************

Jamie and Rebecca were slurping cereal in the kitchen when Lucas woke up the next morning. They were perched on tall stools lifting them up to the counter table.

Jamie looked up at Lucas. "Molly's watching cartoons in the den. I made her some eggs."

"You know how to make –"

Jamie's brow furrowed.

"Right…Haley's kid." Muttered Lucas to himself. "Jamie," Lucas paused. "I think…We should talk."

Jamie studied him carefully before giving a quick nod in acknowledgment and agreement. "Rebecca," he spoke, his eyes still trained on Lucas', "Go help Molly get dressed and take her outside to play. And tell her she can't wear her dress-up princess dress out of the house again. She knows that Mama…" Jamie gulped and glanced at Rebecca. "Just get her dressed please, Rebecca." The younger child nodded dutifully and left the room.

"James." Lucas stopped. He couldn't get any further. Jamie watched him silently, waiting for Luke to make the first move. He sat, swallowed, started again. "Your parents…they –"

"Don't say it." Jamie broke in.

Lucas sighed. "You can't pretend it didn't happen, J. Luke."

"Stop calling me that!" screamed Jamie, every ounce a young, moody teenager. Lucas was taken aback.

"? I've always called you that. Your whole life."

"You mean in the birthday cards you send once a year? Or the name scrawled on the tag of a Christmas present? You may have some idealistic memory of a five year old kid that thought his uncle was his hero, but that's not me anymore. Molly and Rebecca don't even know you. I barely remember you. I don't know why my parents –" he stopped his tirade, unsure.

"Why what, Jamie?"

"Why they gave us to you!" Jamie burst out, frustrated.

Lucas ran his hand through his hair as he thought. "Do you want to know the truth, Jamie?" he asked quietly. Jamie nodded slowly. "I don't know why, either. But you know what I do know?" He looked steadily into Jamie's pained, ice blue eyes. "I know that your mother was a very smart lady. And I know that she never did anything without weighing all the options first. So if she decided that you should come live with me, I'm sure that she had a reason, okay, Jamie?"

"Uncle Lucas?" whispered Jamie, staring at his hands fiddling in his lap.

"Yes, Jamie?"

"I guess it would be okay if you called me J. Luke."

"Okay." Lucas patted Jamie on the back and stood up. "Should we go check on your sisters, then?"