Page 4 of The Incredible Ordinary

I can’t even begin to guess how old he is. Somewhere around twelve, maybe? Fourteen at the most, I’d say, but my experience with kids is extremely limited, so for all I know this is what eight looks like nowadays.

I glance toward Aiden. “We sure about that?”

He gives a short nod. “There’s proof.”

I scrub my palms over my face and try to think. I’m not successful. “Okay. So he’s Gerard’s kid. What’s that got to do with me?”

“Rory?” Francesca says loudly and sends us a disapproving look. “You want to come outside with me?”

The boy ignores her, instead opting to keep his guarded gaze on me and Aiden. I don’t blame him. If I were him I’d want tocheck out the hand I’ve been dealt as soon as the deck of cards comes out.

“He has nobody,” Aiden says. “At least, nobody capable of taking care of him. Just us.”

I start to laugh out loud when it hits. When the meaning and intention behind those words registers.

“That’s a joke, right?” I say, already on edge. “You can’t actually be thinking what I think you’re thinking.”

Aiden’s whiskey brown eyes drill into mine, mining for a sign of conscience. It’ll be a disappointing mission, but he has hope, even after multiple failed attempts, bless his heart.

“What the fuck, Aiden?” He has to know whatever he’s suggesting is idiotic.

“He doesn’t have anybody,” Aiden repeats calmly.

“Since when are you a bleeding heart?”

“This is not about being a bleeding heart. It’s about doing the right thing, and you know it.”

“Fuck the right thing!” I drag my hand through my hair roughly. “You can’t take on a random kid just because you feel sorry for him.”

“Yes, I can,” he says, irritatingly calmly. “But it’d be a hell of a lot easier if I had some help.”

I gape at him. Out of the two of us, he’s even less fit to be a father figure than I am.

He eyes me back, an unreadable look on his face.

“You know fuck all about kids,” I say.

“I once knew fuck all about any number of things. I learned.”

“This isn’t your nerd shit. It’s real life.”

I’ve hurt his feelings. He doesn’t show it, but I know.

I unclench my jaw and try to curb my tendency to lash out. Curb my temper, even if the simmer of it underneath my skin is comforting because it’s familiar. Unwelcome, but comforting nonetheless.

“There are options,” I say, as calmly as I can. “Better options than whatever it is you’ve cooked up in your head.”

“You can’t run away from every problem that crops up.”

“Watch me,” I snap. “I have a life. I can’t just drop everything and… What? Permanently stay in Virginia? This house? Thanks, but no, thanks. I’d rather sit my naked ass in a fire ant nest.”

I’m faintly aware of the kid’s eyes moving between me and Aiden, and that this is not a conversation we should have in front of him.

“I was thinking more along the lines of staying in New York, actually,” Aiden says.

“Go fuck yourself. I have a life,” I repeat.

“You do? Since when? Because last time I checked, you don’t do anything, just fuck around from country to country without any purpose or goals.”