Page 13 of The Incredible Ordinary

“Is this a good time to mention I know absolutely nothing about soccer?” I ask.

Jordan’s laugh is easy. It’s soft. Warm. “Well, there’s this round object called a ball that the players have to kick into a rectangular frame called the goal. The team with the most goals at the end of the match wins.” His smile widens. “Oh, and unlike that other football, soccer is actually played with feet. Sometimes the head. But never with the hands.”

“What about the goalkeeper?” I raise my brows at him.

He beams at me. “See? You do know something about soccer.”

I chuckle at the victorious expression on his face. It’s the tiniest thing, but here’s this guy I don’t even know, and in his eyes, I did something right. I haven’t done anything right in forever.

“We just help out with general stuff. Help set up before practice. Help clean up the stadium after. Make sure the water bottles are filled and there are plenty of snacks for the ravenous monsters we call our kids. It’s really not rocket science, so I wouldn’t worry about it. Stick close to me, and I’ll guide you through the most common pitfalls.”

“I’m going to take you up on that offer.”

He grins like it’s good news. I’m not going to disabuse him of that notion. Let him find out himself—it’ll be more interesting for him that way.

“I’m also not sure if Rory knows how to play soccer,” I admit.

Jordan shrugs, unconcerned. “He’ll learn. I’m gonna let you in on a little secret. We’re not a very good team.”

I raise my brows at him, and he winks. I feel a wave of warmth. We’re coconspirators.

“It’s not really about being overly competitive. The goal is that everybody gets to play. It’s just a way for the kids to have some fun, have a hobby, run off some of their excess energy. That’s all there is to it.”

That’s a relief.

I should really get going.

“Theo seems like a good kid,” I say instead of walking away.

Jordan’s expression goes impossibly soft.

True loveI think. I couldn’t even tell you if I’ve ever seen it on blatant display like this.

“He is. Even if today’s evidence points to the contrary.” Jordan frowns. “This is the first time he’s ever gotten into serious trouble, to be honest.”

I scratch the back of my neck and avoid looking at Jordan. “To be fair, I wouldn’t put it past Rory to have started this,” I mutter.

Jordan doesn’t say anything right away.

I should really shut up.

“I didn’t know I had a brother three months ago,” I say. “My father died. I went to”—I shrug helplessly—“tie up some lose ends. Got Rory as a surprise.”

Jordan tilts his head. “That’s a parting gift you don’t see every day. And you’ve been dealing with it on your own since?”

“Me and my brother, but right now I’m the go-to guy, basically.” I drag my hand through my hair and shake my head. “Honestly, I have no fucking clue what I’m doing.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Jordan asks.

I nod, even if I’m not completely convinced what he has to say will solve anything.

“I’ve been a parent for thirteen-plus years. None of us know what we’re doing. Mainly you just wing it, cross your fingers, and hope for the best.” He sends me a thoughtful look. “Honestly, I think it was easier at fifteen because I was so overwhelmed I didn’t have time to have any deep thoughts about being competent. I just had to put all my efforts into surviving.”

I stare at him. “You had Theo at fifteen?”

That definitely explains why he looks too young to have a thirteen-year-old son. It’s because technically heistoo young to have a thirteen-year-old son.

His lips twitch, but he doesn’t look offended, he just nods.