Page 22 of The Incredible Ordinary

I start to say no, but then an image flashes in my head of a leatherbound journal Rory was clutching in his hands when he first walked into the New York apartment after Aiden. And it’s not the only time I’ve seen the book. In fact, if I really think about it, I’ve seen the book attached to Rory almost all the time.

“It’s a sketchbook?” I say dumbly. Once again, it’s something I should probably know and don’t. It’s getting harder and harder to argue that I’m not a failure when it comes to Rory.

“Theo says so. Rory thought Theo was going to take it and lashed out.”

“Oh,” I say when I can’t seem to figure out anything intelligent to contribute to the conversation.

“Yeah. Not saying I understand or that it wasn’t an overreaction, but clearly the book is important to Rory. Whatever’s in there is personal.”

He says it with the kind of gravity that makes me think saying that is also personal.

The rest of the field has cleared off by now, so I follow Jordan and we both grab bags of equipment that we stow away in a small room close to the coach’s office. Along with the other volunteer parents, we also do a sweep of the stadium and gather up whatever trash we can find. There’s not a lot. Just some errant wrappers that’ve clearly accidentally dropped out of bags and two plastic water bottles.

Jordan’s phone chimes as we walk toward the exit, and he pulls it out of his pocket. He types something, the phone chimes again, and he smiles to himself and slides the phone back into his pocket.

We stop at the stadium entrance, and he grins at me.

“What’s the plan with Rory?”

There’s an idea that’s been slowly cooking in the back of my head for a few days now. It’s an excellent plan. In my opinion. Which probably means it’s not a good one. The only thing that’s stopped me from putting it into action is that I didn’t have the right motivation for Rory. Now it seems I might.

He likes to draw.

“Bribery,” I say.

Jordan’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t say anything, so I take it as a seal of approval it’s most likely not meant to be.

“Need any help?” he asks.

Yes. It’s the obvious answer, but surprisingly not just because I’m clueless. It’s mostly about Jordan. I like the way I feel when I’m with him.

Not hopeless.

Curious.

It’s been a while since I made this kind of simple human connection. Just two people exploring the unmapped territory of someone else’s mind.

“You’re not taking Theo home?”

He shakes his head. “He’s walking home with his friends. I feel like I’mthisclose to the moment when he starts walking five steps behind me on the street and pretending he’s an Albanian tourist because walking with his dad is just that embarrassing. We’re not there yet, but it’s approaching fast.”

I smile. “In that case, I wouldn’t mind at all. Do you want me to walk a few steps away from you and speak Portuguese so you can practice?”

He elbows me in the side.

I laugh.

“Are there any art supply stores around here?” I ask.

“I’m sure there are.” He tilts his head. “Do you know what you’re looking for?”

“Not a clue. I’m going to take a wild swing here and say you’re an expert, though, right? You’ve got a hidden talent where you get lost on the way to the store, but once we’re there you’ll have encyclopedic knowledge?” I say hopefully.

He grins at me. “You’ll be so disappointed. But I have a solution for you for when you get us to that art supply store.”

“Okay.” I pull out my phone, find the nearest store, and point it out to Jordan on the map. “It’s in walking distance.”

“Lead the way.” He gestures in the complete opposite direction of the store. I hide my smile and we start walking.