The Jordan incident

Thump, thump,thump!

Visiting family was quite possibly the bane of Simon’s short existence. The only consolation was the fact that Uncle Frank let him use the punching bag in their basement. What else was he supposed to do at two o’clock in the morning? 

The next second, Simon followed a jab with a roundhouse kick to the side of the bag. He blew out a breath and bent over. 

If his dad knew he was down there at this hour, he might kill him.

But ‘lucky’ him, his dad had been called away on an emergency mission—not that there was any other kind. Apparently planned family reunions weren’t even safe from the government’s reach.

Of course, it didn’t help that most of their family didn’t actually know where his dad really was. 

Before leaving, his dad had told them there was a potential ‘plumbing issue’ he had to deal with, and they all just assumed it was at their house.

Simon knew better; he just couldn’t figure out what his dad was really doing. Because his dad didn’t lie to his family, but Simon highly doubted he would have been called in because the White House couldn't flush their toilets. Not that that wouldn’t be funny.

Shaking away any thoughts of his father, Simon pulled off his gloves, but before he turned toward the door, his instincts warned him that he was no longer alone.

He hesitated a second before turning toward his youngest uncle, who in reality was really more like a cousin, given the one year age gap between them. “Jordan,” he said, frowning. “What are you doing up?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Jordan asked, crossing his arms. 

Simon fought the urge to roll his eyes as he ran his hand through his sweaty hair. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I asked first.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Jordan said. “Then I heard someone down here and decided to check it out.”

“Well, now you have,” Simon said, brushing past him and toward the stairs. 

He’d just reached the top when he heard the soft tread of footsteps just around the corner. His heart rate picked up as he edged closer, but it was obvious the person wasn’t trying to walk quietly on purpose, which meant it could only be one person.

Grinning to himself, Simon waited a second longer before jumping out from behind the wall at the top of the stairs. “Dad!“

His dad barely flinched, but it was enough for Simon to know he’d caught him off guard. “Winnie…” he said, frowning as he rubbed at his temples. “What are you still doing up?” he asked, but before Simon could respond, Jordan appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Gregory? You’re back at a weird hour,” Jordan said, frowning as he eyed the both of them.

Simon’s dad chuckled. “Tell you what? Don’t tell Mom I was driving this late, and I won’t tell her you were up way past your bedtime. Deal?” Jordan’s eyes grew wide as he glanced at the time, then he nodded. “Good. Now get to bed before I change my mind.”

Simon waited until Jordan was gone before turning toward his dad. “So… If I don’t tell Grandma, does that mean I’m not in trouble?”

His dad snorted before reaching out and ruffling his hair. “Sure, Kiddo. I have a feeling I know why you were up anyway.” His dad sighed before wrapping his arm around him and tugging him toward the living room where they were currently sleeping. “You know I can’t say much, but... The problem hasn't exactly been taken care of.”

Simon frowned as he flopped down onto the couch that was currently his ‘bed’. “What does that mean?” 

His dad ran a hand through his hair and took a seat beside him. “I might have to leave again. The... plumping problem turned out to be more than just a leak. ”

Simon stiffened at that last word. Leak? He knew his dad wouldn't use that word without a reason. “A leak?” he whispered, shifting to look at his dad better. “Is it... dangerous?”

“No, I think we caught it in time,” he said, reaching out and brushing a curl out of his face. “But even if it was, you wouldn't have anything to worry about. Alright,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Bedtime, Kiddo.”

With that, his dad flopped down onto the couch and held out his arm. Simon hesitated a second. He was getting kind of old for this... But the nagging fear that something would happen to his father was still fresh. 

 He paused for a second before moving forward and curling against his dad's side. After everything that had happened in London, Simon wasn't really surprised when his dad wrapped his arm around him and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Love you, Kiddo,” he whispered, reaching out with his other hand and shutting off the lamp. 

* * *

It was probably creepy, but Gregory didn't go to sleep right away. Instead, he just watched Winnie sleep.

Even though he only took vital missions anymore, it seemed he was still missing so much of his son’s life. And he knew it wasn’t easy for Simon. He didn't have to imagine very hard to know why Simon was still up at two o'clock in the morning.

As much as he feared that one of these times he wouldn't be able to come back to his son, he knew Simon's fear was worse. Especially after already losing his mother. 

“I'm not going anywhere, Kiddo,” he whispered before pulling him closer. 

* * *

It was obvious his dad was exhausted from the mission the night before because he didn't even stir when Simon extracted himself from his side. He silently slipped out of the living room and made his way to the kitchen, where he found his grandparents already eating, with a pile of dishes telling him everyone else had already been through.

“Morning,” he said, stifling a yawn as he hopped up onto the stool beside the counter. “Where is everyone?”

“Who knows? I can barely keep track of my cellphone,” Grandpa Jonathan grumbled, shaking his head. “Jordan should be around here somewhere, I think he was waiting for you to get up, actually. I think he’s wanting to play chess against you after you beat him at Battleship yesterday.”

Simon inwardly groaned. It wasn’t his fault Jordan had put his pieces in a predictable pattern. “Great,” he said, forcing a smile. “Any idea when he’s going to want to do that?”

“How about now?” Jordan said, stepping into the kitchen.

He known it was too much to hope to escape another game with his slightly older uncle. “Wunderbar,” he said before sighing as he grabbed an apple out of the bowl in front of him. “Well, let’s do it then. Did you set up the game?” As it turned out, Jordan had not set it up, and Simon let Jordan pick the white pieces instead of trying to get them himself. The sooner he started the game, the sooner it would be over.

As he helped put out the pieces, Simon let his hand hover over the pawn on F2 a second longer than the other pieces before he brushed his finger against the square in front of it. 

He wasn’t surprised when they started the game and Jordan moved his pawn from F2 to F3.

Sighing as he shifted to make himself more comfortable on the ground, Simon grabbed his pawn to the right of Jordan’s and moved it forward two spots. 

Jordan hesitated a second before moving his pawn from G2 to G4, where it was technically protected by his first pawn.

Clearing his throat, Simon picked up his queen and slid her across the board to H4. “Checkmate.”

“What… That… How?!” Jordan asked, and Simon could tell he was growing flustered.

So telling him what he’s just played was called the ‘Fool’s Mate’ probably wouldn’t be the best idea. “I’m just good at chess,” Simon said instead, shrugging.

Which was also true.

“Yeah, whatever,” Jordan said, shoving himself to his feet. He didn’t even glance back at Simon as he stormed out of the room.

“No, please, let me clean up the game,” Simon muttered to himself as he cleared off the board and began to put the pieces away.

“What did you do to Jordan?” 

Simon glanced up and spotted his father standing in the doorway, sipping on his morning cup of bean juice. “I didn’t do anything,” he said, turning away again. “He asked me to play chess, and he didn’t like it when I beat him.”

His dad sighed. “Right. Come on, your grandma wants us to grab a few things from the shop,” he said, jerking his head back down the hallway. “Though, you might want to get dressed first.”

Simon glanced down at the sweats he was wearing as he made his way toward his dad. “Why? I’m not looking to impress anyone.”

Chuckling, his dad slung his arm over his shoulders and ruffled up his hair. “Yeah, and let’s keep it that way for as many more years as possible.”

As it turned out, Simon and his grandmother had very different definitions of a ‘few things’.

“Okay, did the leak you were dealing with involve zombies, or why did we get so much stuff?” Simon huffed as he stumbled toward the garage door, carrying as many bags as he could carry without losing an arm.

Though, the way the plastic dug into his skin, it still felt like he was going to.

“Unfortunately, this is what it takes to feed as many kids as your grandparents decided to strap themselves with,” his dad said. “I don’t even remember the last time we were all together. And Jackson and Diego should be flying in sometime tonight.”

“Couldn’t we have just gone to a restaurant?” Simon moaned as he made his way into the kitchen and dumped everything onto the counter.

And it hadn’t been that long since he’d seen his Uncle Jackson, even if the events leading up to it were a bit unconventional. As if summoned by his thoughts, the above-mentioned uncle appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Ah…! Food’s here,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Oh, and my second favorite nephew is here too!” With that, he put Simon into a friendly headlock and gave him a noogie before letting him go again.

Simon pulled away and scowled at him. “Yeah, and if it isn’t my fourth favorite aunt,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Wow… after everything that happened earlier this year, you wound me like that?” Jackson asked before turning toward Simon’s dad. “Gregory, gosh, you’re getting old.”

“I can still whoop you in a wrestling match, little brother,” Simon’s dad said, knocking into him and pushing Jackson to the side a couple of steps. 

“That’s it!” Jordan’s voice cried from the other side of the shutters separating the kitchen from the dining room. And if it had been any of the house’s other occupants, Simon was sure someone would have jumped at the sudden sound.

As it was, none of them batted an eye as they turned toward the door a second before Jordan appeared. 

“Simon, I challenge you to a wrestling match!” Jordan said, smirking at Simon as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Simon raised an eyebrow. “You’re joking, right?” 

Even though Jordan was a year older than him, and tall for his age, he was barely more than two inches taller than Simon. And unbeknownst to him, Simon had been training with his dad since… Well, he would have said before he could talk, but he started that early too.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“Why?” Jordan asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “You too chicken?”

Simon gritted his teeth together. “You know what? Fine. When? And where?”

“Five minutes from now, in the living room.” Still smirking, Jordan turned and disappeared back out of the kitchen.

“Yeah… I can’t see this ending badly,” Jackson said, standing in the corner munching on a bag of chips.

Simon didn’t miss the scowl his dad shot toward his uncle. “Not helpful,” Simon’s dad said, running his hand through his hair before he turned toward Simon. “Okay, Kiddo, we need to talk.”

Jackson sighed. “I’ll take my cue and go,” he said, moving toward the door.

Grimacing, Simon crossed his arms and turned toward his dad. “Why do I feel like I’m about to get into trouble?”

His dad gave a small chuckle and ruffled up Simon’s hair. “No, Kiddo,” his dad said, bending down so they were on the same level. “But… you’re probably not going to like what I’m about to say.”

Great. That made him feel so much better.

“I want you to let Jordan win your wrestling match.”

Simon’s jaw dropped. “What? Seriously? Why?!”

His dad reached out and gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. “Tell me, has Jordan won anything you two have played against each other?” Simon shook his head. “Then I think you know why.”

“But that’s not fair,” Simon said, scrunching up his face. “It’s not my fault I’m better at board games than he is.”

His dad raised an eyebrow at him. “How would you feel if I beat you at everything?” he asked. “Jordan’s a year older than you; it’s going to hurt him to lose at everything. Do you understand? Just let him have this one thing.”

Simon’s shoulders slumped, and he sighed. “Fine… I’ll throw it.”

“Thank you, Kiddo,” his dad said, smiling as he kissed him on the forehead. “I know it’s not easy, but I’m so proud of you.” With that, his dad tugged him toward the door.

Yay. Time to lose to an eleven year old when he could take down someone three times that age.