Those Ocean Eyes

A deep blush crept across my face as I realized what I just told Noah.

"I mean, you're a great friend. The kind of friend that I've needed," I stammered.

He nodded his head, a smile ghosting his lips, "Of course. Best mates."

I let out an awkward giggle, which turned into hysterical laughter. Noah looked at me and started cracking up alongside me. My laughter turned into soft pants and I rested my head on Noah's shoulder.

"What would I do without you?" I whispered.

He placed an arm around me and tugged me into his body. "No, what would I do without you?"

"'Mil! Come over here!" I heard Steven call from across the room. I had completely forgotten about him, which made me feel a tad guilty.

Noah rose and grabbed my hand firmly. I certainty have never had a friend like him.

We found Steven with Arnold in an bland office . Arnold was sitting behind the desk while Steven was lounging in one of the two chairs.

"Come here and sit," Steven said, motioning to his lap.

Noah let go of my hand and I put them up in a 'no thank you' manner. "I can just stand," I said, walking over to the wall near the chairs.

Steven reached out and scooped me into his arms. I landed on his lap and let out a frustrated grunt. Noah silently sat next to us.

"Hi Amelia. Nice to meet you, I'm Arnold as you know," the man announced looking up at me. "My, you look like someone I knew years ago," he mumbled to himself.

"Hello! It's great to officially meet you!" I politely smiled.

There was a look of puzzlement on his face. "If you don't mind my asking, what's your mother's name?" He questioned.

"Her name was Ama-" I began.

"Amanda Moore. She married Andrew Tomlinson," He finished for me.

"H-how did you know that?" My voice squeezed.

A wild look flashed through his eyes as he rose from his chair and began shuffling in a drawer. He picked up a frame and set it in front of me.

In the picture, there was three people. A man, a woman, and a baby. The man was a young and smiling Arnold. He was holding the baby, a girl from what I could tell. He had an arm slung around the woman.

The woman had beautiful brown hair, pulled into a high ponytail. She wore blue shorts and a Beatles shirt. Her smile was breathtaking, far from perfect but beautiful none the less. Then, the realization struck me.

"Why are you in a picture with my mother?" I asked, voice cracking.

A sad smile appeared on his hardened face. "That," he pointed to the baby, "is you. And I have this picture because your mother is, was, my younger sister."

"You're my Uncle Arn?" I questioned.

"I'm surprised you know about me. Before your mother died, your father and I got into a fight. Told me that I'd never see you again," he laughed humorously briefly.

Tears fell from my eyes as I remembered the stories my mother told me about her big brother. I never imagined that I'd meet him. In my young mind, he was another fairy tale hero like Peter Pan. Once my mother died, so did the stories. My father mentioned my uncle Arn less than a dozen times after my mothers death when I was twelve.

Yet, here he was. The hero of my childhood.

I scarcely noticed Steven and Noah leaving, except for the fact that Steven had to move me in order to leave. I waved goodbye to both and watched them shut the door before I made my way to my uncle's arms and cried.

He let out a few silent sobs, and mumbled stories about my mother. My tears subsided not to long after his and I wiped my damp cheeks before sitting back down in the chair across from him.

"Uncle Arn?" I asked in a small voice.

"Yes my dearest?" He replied.

I smiled at the nickname, mother used to call me that. "Do you want to catch up over dinner?"

"That sounds fantastic to me Mel," he smiled.

Yet another nickname my mother called me. Oh, I couldn't wait to let my father know about my newfound friends and family.