Page 53 of The Incredible Ordinary

I laugh and settle in better in my chair. “So landscaping isn’t your thing, then.”

“No. I’ve never quite managed to be one of those suburban dads who get really into taking care of their lawn and having a lot of very specific gardening tools in the shed to show off.”

“What is your thing?”

He takes a slow sip of his beer, leans his head back for a moment, and breathes in deeply before he looks at me.

“I like simple stuff. Good food. Good company. Family.”

“Is family simple?” I ask.

“Not always. But it can be.” He sends me a small smile. “Sounds boring, I imagine.”

My brow furrows when I look at him. “No. Why do you say that?”

His eyes move up and down me in slow perusal. My skin tingles with awareness of that look, even if the intent behind it is purely platonic.

“I don’t know if anybody’s ever told you this,” he finally says, “but you’re kind of cool.”

“Meaning? Does that make me incapable of appreciating the simple things?” I ask teasingly.

“No. I’m sorry. I’m making assumptions based on nothing.” He shakes his head. “My point is that I’m not much of an adrenaline junkie. I like the stability of my life, and you don’t usually hear people praise the joy of having a set routine, is all.”

It’s not something you’re into.

He doesn’t say it, but it’s heavily implied.

I don’t know exactly how it makes me feel, because he has every right to think that. I’ve pretty much said so myself.

Something about it bothers me, though, and I can’t quite put my finger on what it is.

Jordan’s phone vibrates on the table in front of him. He picks it up and a frowns at whatever he reads on the screen.

“Everything okay?” I ask when he’s still frowning at the screen.

He looks up at me and puts the phone down.

“Oh. Yeah. Just Kira figuring out her birthday present for Theo. It’s a seasonal thing to argue about gifts. There’s Theo’s birthday, followed by Christmas, so it takes a bit of effort to get to a point where we agree on what is a suitable gift for a thirteen-year-old and what’s not.”

“What’s in the not column? Just for future reference.”

“Strippers,” he deadpans.

“The mother of your kid is planning to get him strippers for his birthday?”

“To complement the selection of tequila she’s also getting him.”

I shake my head. “Come on. That’s just bad parenting. Even I know it goes: beer at twelve, a motorcycle without a helmet at thirteen, weed at fourteen, and strippers at fifteen.”

Jordan leans his head back and chuckles softly. His eyes remain on the darkening sky above us for a moment before he turns to look at me.

“She works in tech, and she’s very well off. And she doesn’t get to see Theo as often as she’d like. She feels guilty about that, but also about not being here while Theo was growing up.” He sighs. “Which means she’s trying to compensate for it. With money.”

“Ah.” This is somewhat familiar territory. I’ve been on the receiving end of some expensive guilt gifts in my day. “It’s not going to work, you know?”

He looks at me for the longest time.

“Am I that transparent?” he asks.