Page 81 of The Incredible Ordinary

“Likewise,” I say. “And I get to thank you in person for the art supplies advice.”

He waves me off. “Anytime.”

“He means it,” Sutton says, tugging at Wren’s earlobe with an affectionate smile.

Jordan takes the seat next to me, leans back, and aims an easy grin my way.

I’m wondering if there’s some official etiquette related to how you’re supposed to behave in front of the closest family of the guy you’re reluctantly and pointlessly crushing on. If there is, I’ve missed that lesson.

I don’t know why I expected to feel awkward. Because I’m a stranger? Because my kid punched their kid not that long ago? Because of the ill-advised… fascination?

Everything goes smoothly, though.

Conversation flows easily, and I mostly get to sit back and observe, only making an occasional appropriate conversational noise or answering a question directed at me.

Jordan’s father is a quiet man in his late sixties who barely says a word, but watches everything with an air of calm about him—something he’s clearly passed on to his son.

Wren talks about his new job and how he accidentally set off the fire alarm, so the whole building had to evacuate. Sutton has his arm thrown over the back of Wren’s chair, and every now and then he slides his palm over Wren’s forearm, a soft smile on his face.

Jordan puts on a playlist from his phone and makes sure wine glasses are filled.

Theo comes in, with Rory following close behind, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, with Dog at his heels.

Sutton pulls a large pan of lasagna out of the oven and places it in the middle of the table.

“Mushroom lasagna, as ordered by the birthday boy,” he says, and ruffles Theo’s hair.

Kira leans forward and inhales. “Oh, this smells wonderful, Sutton.”

“Hey!” Wren protests. “I helped. Where’s my praise?”

His sister quirks her brow. “I was here. You were just sitting at the table the whole time.”

“Yeah. Keeping out of the way. Just like I’ve been ordered to many times before. It’s my best skill in the kitchen. It’s a step up from when he used to send me to the store because he ‘forgot’ to buy something.”

“It was just the one time, and I actually did need those oranges.”

“Sure you did. Three days later.”

Everybody laughs.

Wren and Sutton exchange glances, and there’s so much naked, unfiltered love in there.

It’s weird that I notice. It’s weird that instead of internally scoffing at it, I feel something unexpected.

Curiosity.

What would this feel like? This kind of easy belonging. The feeling of finding somebody you effortlessly click with and then simply believing in them so much that you’re willing to take the risk.

I’ve never wanted to know.

I’ve also never felt like I’ve been missing something in my life, but now, sitting here in this kitchen that’s filled with warmth and affection and love, I’m keenly aware that this is something I’ve never had.

You don’t want thisa voice scoffs in my head. But it’s weak, and somewhat unsure all of a sudden.

I’m suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling thatthisis how normal people experience love and family.

Thatthisis a possibility for some.