Chapter 44.

Sally had a favourite grandchild.

Of course, she'd never admit it out loud. Regardless that all but one of her grandsons were adults, divulging that she secretly liked one of them slightly more than the rest would undoubtedly lead to at least one display of tears.

Most people were quick to assume that her favourite was Virgil, and she could clearly see the reason why. Indeed, she and Virgil did share a particularly tight bond, but it was one of his younger brothers that secretly took the crown.

A younger, blond brother.

A younger, blond, lactose intolerant brother.

A younger, blond, lactose intolerant brother, who was curled up in the safety of his room with the door shut and a dog in his lap.

Sally smiled ruefully as she knocked on Gordon's door, "Hey, kid. Mind if I come in?"

"Be my guest," came the mumbled reply.

Sally sighed and glanced at her watch. It was almost six o'clock, and Gordon hadn't made an appearance all day. He'd skipped breakfast and hadn't bothered to come down for lunch. Scott had been swift to suggest illness and had taken his temperature twice, only to find his brother's vitals well within normal parameters. Virgil had followed up with a full med scan, however had also drawn a blank. In the end, it had been John who had tentatively suggested that whatever was ailing Gordon might be mental instead of physical.

That had gotten Sally's attention. She monitored the mental health of her grandsons like a hawk, and was quick to intervene if she saw any of them slipping. She'd forked out thousands of dollars to send Scott and Virgil to private therapists when their father had disappeared, and made sure all five of them attended regular refresher workshops on mental health as part of their routine medical training.

Gordon was a funny case. He was the sweetest and kindest man Sally knew, even when accounting for family bias. He thrived on making people laugh, and seemed to hardly ever get 'down'. Sure, he had moments when his humour dipped and his smile faded, but he seemed capable of bouncing back much quicker than his brothers, younger and older alike.

But not today, it seemed. Gordon's bounce feature was firmly offline as he lay on his bed, one arm cradling Celery, the other tucked behind his head.

"Budge up, kid," Sally grunted, lowering herself onto the edge of the bed, "My butt's not as small as it once was."

Gordon made a soft sound of acknowledgement and yawned, his eyes lacking their usual sparkle.

"The others are worried about you," Sally began, her tone firm, "I think Scott in particular would appreciate it if you went and talked to him."

Gordon sighed and flipped onto his side, "Maybe later."

"Alan's lonely and would love some company," Sally carried on, "You know he struggles to follow along with the things the others talk about."

"Tell him to go and find Kayo," Gordon mumbled, tightening his hold on Celery.

Sally shook her grandson's shoulder, earning herself a frustrated hiss in the process, "Come on kid, out with it. We know you're not ill and you've got a houseful of people who are worried about you. Don't be selfish."

"I don't really feel like talking at the moment, Grandma," Gordon whined, his shoulders tensing, "All I want is to be left alone. Tell Scott to take me off the rota until tomorrow morning, and don't save me a place at dinner."

"Not going to happen," Sally replied, striding across the room and throwing the curtains open, "People need saving, and you need to eat. I'm afraid both are non-negotiable."

The moan that escaped from Gordon as sunlight flooded into his room was downright pathetic, "Seriously, Grandma? What's a guy got to do to get a little privacy around here? Fill out a form? Get down on his knees and beg?"

Sally pretended to think as she plopped herself back down on the mattress, "Well, I'm sure John would approve of the form suggestion, but let's not put ideas in that boy's head. Now, are you going to tell me what's wrong, or am I going to have to interrogate Celery?"

Gordon's eyes fluttered shut in frustration, "She's a good girl. She'll never betray any of my secrets."

'And neither will we," Sally reminded, "Now, out with it. I'd threaten to tickle you, but that only works on Alan."

There was a short pause as Gordon heaved himself up so that he was propped against his pillows. Celery took the shift in position as an opportunity to snuggle further under his arm.

Sally had always marvelled at the uncanny way Gordon's eyes seemed to triple in size whenever he was sad or frightened. It was ridiculously endearing, and showed how easily he was ruled by his emotions.

"I came in last," Gordon sighed, his eyes downcast, "I lost that stupid competition of Kayo's. Even John managed to beat me. John! Ginger, socially awkward, allergic-to-his-own-shadow John. You know, the one who spends ninety percent of the year in orbit and thinks a date is something that grows on a tree and helps with constipation."

"I know who John is," Sally crooned, her expression humorous, "And his definition of a date isn't wrong, just contextually incorrect."

Gordon snorted and scratched Celery behind her ear, "Go figure."

Sally shook her head and took back control of the conversation, "So, you're upset because you came in last. Why? You've lost to your brothers plenty of times before."

"This was different," Gordon sniffed, his cheeks flushing pink, "This was a chance for everyone to see me as more than just the practical joker of the family. This was a chance for me to prove that I can take things seriously, and I blew it."

"Oh, don't talk like that," Sally soothed, reaching over to squeeze the hand that wasn't petting Celery, "From what I recall, none of your brothers covered themselves in glory. Alan in particular still has some rather nasty bite marks."

"Exactly my point!" Gordon huffed, throwing his arm in the air before letting it fall back onto the bed, "Even Alan beat me! Alan! You know, the one-"

Sally held up her hand, "It's okay, I know who Alan is as well. This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with you feeling ashamed of yourself, would it?"

Gordon didn't answer, but the way his face fell gave Sally the answer she needed.

"Right, young man, you listen to me," the Tracy matriarch instructed, "We don't do shame in this house. Embarrassment? Yes. Humility? Most definitely. But we never allow shame to walk through the door. It's a powerful and toxic emotion and, as my own mother used to say, capable of replacing a garden of happiness with a graveyard of regret. Have I ever told you the story of how your dad met your mom?"

Gordon sat up a bit straighter, "I heard it from Grandpa once, but not from you."

Sally smiled and wrapped an arm around her fourth and favourite grandson, "Well, as you already know, your father was one of the world's best astronauts. He was the first man to land on Mars, along with Captain Taylor, and decided quite early on that he would use his retirement fund to establish a non-profit rescue organisation. He had his life planned to the last detail, and wasn't a fan of 'taking it easy' like so many people told him to. Sound familiar?"

Gordon snorted, "Scott."

"Exactly," Sally grinned, "One day, long before International Rescue became a thing, he and Captain Taylor received word of a motorcyclist who'd gotten stranded on a dirt track not too far from Phoenix. By the time they arrived, the rider was dehydrated and suffering from heatstroke. And if that wasn't bad enough, a local ranch was using the same dirt track as a shortcut to herd their cattle between pastures. Now, I don't know how much you know about cows, but those things are fast when they want to be. Your father suddenly found himself faced with a stampede and had to decide on the spot whether to save the motorcyclist, or himself and Taylor."

Gordon's eyes widened in anticipation, "And?"

Sally's eyes twinkled, "Thankfully, it was a decision he never had to make. All three of them were saved at the last minute by a young woman who used her horse to drive the cattle off the track. She got thrown off in the process, but her hasty intervention saved three lives and a very expensive motorbike."

If possible, Gordon's eyes widened even further, "Mom?"

"Yes," Sally replied, her expression fond, "Anyway, she succeeded in diverting the cattle away, but found herself without a horse and without the ticket to her family's next paycheque as a result. Livestock are expensive commodities to lose, you know. Of course, your dad offered to give her a lift and to compensate her for her trouble, but do you know what she did instead?"

Gordon shook his head, hugging Celery against his chest like a pillow.

Sally paused for dramatic effect before continuing, "Well, she grabbed one of the Longhorn steers who hadn't bolted too far, looped some rope around its neck, and vaulted atop it just like a horse. Claimed that cows were just as ridable before going to round up the sixty she'd just lost. Your dad was head over heels before she'd even decided which direction she was going in. In his own words, 'women as optimistic as that don't grow on trees.' Sound like anyone we know?"

Gordon frowned and cocked his head, "Definitely not Alan. Maybe Virgil?"

Sally's eyes narrowed, "Try again."

"Me?" Gordon looked completely taken aback.

"Yes, you," Sally insisted, "Your mother was a weird and wonderful person. She often raised eyebrows with her offbeat approach to certain situations, but she always had a joke up her sleeve. She wore a yellow and orange sundress on the first date your father took her on, and kept faking phone calls from her mother the entire night to keep him on his best behaviour. There's a good reason why I've never questioned where you get your humour or your dress sense from."

Gordon dragged his knuckles along Celery's head, "So mom was terrible at dating too?"

"Oh, the worst," Sally affirmed, "Like I said, she had zero fashion sense and seemed to find laughing at your father more fun than flirting with him. She was different, and was no stranger to rejection as a result, but do you know what she never felt? Ashamed. Not once did she allow even a trace of shame to pollute the life she chose for herself. That's why it's important that you learn from her bravery. Shame has no place in your life, kid. You may think you're just fourth in a line of five, but nobody in this family embodies your mother's energy like you do."

Gordon smiled and wiped a hand across his eyes, "I miss her."

"We all do," Sally confessed, smiling at the way Celery craned her head to lick Gordon's arm. In the week since arriving on Tracy Island, the little mutt had put on a healthy amount of weight and was starting to come out of her shell. Her wounds had also scabbed over and she'd had her first bath. Gordon often took her swimming with him first thing in the morning, and was in discussion with Brains about installing some kind of pet carrier inside Thunderbird Four so that she could accompany him on low-risk missions. She was still wary around Virgil and John, and didn't tend to go to the other brothers for affection, but was significantly happier in their presence than she had been a few days ago. Rumour had it that she'd even let Alan feed her a piece of his toast the other morning.

"Your compassion towards animals is another gift you got from her. She'd be very proud of you," Sally declared, smiling as Gordon gently caressed Celery's head, "She'd be proud of all of you, but she'd be particularly proud of you. And I can say with the utmost confidence that she wouldn't want you to change or be sad just because of some silly competition. Scott may be the charmer of the family, but I bet even Kayo would hesitate if she found out how much time he spends fixing his hair."

Gordon smirked and nodded, "Yeah, he definitely takes after dad."

"And that's okay," Sally affirmed, "But it's also okay to be different. Right, now we've got that out of the way, what's your Plan B?"

"Plan B?" Gordon blinked, "What do you mean? We've all had our dates and been given our scores."

Sally shook her head and rose to her feet, "Give yourself a second chance, kid. The first date is never the best one. Look at what your poor father had to endure. Have another shot, but maybe keep things a bit simpler this time. What's wrong with a homemade dinner and a movie? I'd be happy to give you a couple of cooking lessons ahead of time."

Gordon shuddered as memories of attending one of his grandmother's inedible cupcake masterclasses came flooding back. Virgil had been ill after the last one for days.

"Uhh…y'know what, I think I'm gonna pass," Gordon replied, averting his eyes and scratching the back of his neck nervously, "Thanks for the offer though."

Sally shrugged and reached for the door handle, "Your loss. Right, get out of your pyjamas, make your bed, and be downstairs in ten for dinner. I left Scott making his famous alfredo pasta, so you'll have to be quick if you want to get some before John steals it all. I guarantee you'll feel better after a good meal."

Gordon smiled his trademark smile and yanked his pyjama shirt over his head, "Thanks, Grandma. But I already feel better. The food will just be a bonus."

Sally felt her heart glow as she clicked the door shut.

"Good for you, kid. Good for you."