The chess board was set up on Jay's kitchen table, and I'd just moved my knight into position. Jay stared at it for a long moment, then looked at me with an expression that was half-annoyed, half-impressed.
"You've gotten better," he said, not quite a compliment, more like an observation he didn't want to make.
"Ya i am beating you" I said,
"Don't get cute. I meant actually better. You're thinking three moves ahead now instead of one."
I moved my queen. Check.
Jay studied the board. He had maybe four moves before it was checkmate, and we both knew it. After thirty seconds of thinking, he moved his king, buying time he didn't have.
"You should be in tournaments," he said, moving his piece without really looking at me. "Not just playing old men in their kitchens."
"I've thought about it," I said, and I meant it. "The competitive circuit is... intense. Lot of pressure."
"So? You've handled worse."
I won the game three moves later. Jay conceded before checkmate, which was very Jay—he'd rather quit than lose completely. He stood up and went to make coffee, which was his post-loss ritual.
"Mitchell and Cameron should be back next week," he said from the kitchen. "Then you can go back to your own life."
"I don't mind being here," I said. It was true. Staying with Jay while my dads took a rare vacation alone had been quiet. No YouTube deadlines, no streaming schedule. Just chess, reading, and Jay's grumbling about getting older.
"Well, I mind," he said, though there was no real bite in it. He handed me a coffee. "You're too good at chess. It's depressing."
My phone buzzed. A text from Mitchell: "Hey, how's Jay treating you?"
I replied: "He's fine. We're playing chess."
Another buzz, this time from Cam: "Good good. We need to talk to you about something when we're back. Nothing bad. Just... important family stuff."
I didn't respond immediately. It was the kind of vague message that meant something was up, but I couldn't figure out what. Mitchell didn't usually do vague. He was the type to overthink everything out loud, not keep it mysterious.
Jay was watching me. "What?"
"Nothing. Just Mitch and Cam being weird."
Two days later, I got roped into family lunch at the Dunphy house. Phil had called Mitchell at some point, and the whole group was going to meet up before Mitch and Cam got back.
The Dunphy kitchen was chaos in the best way. Claire was stressed about something (it turned out to be Haley dating Dylan, some guy with a man bun that nobody approved of), Phil was trying to be the "cool dad" and failing spectacularly, Luke had just come back from doing something that involved mud and rope, and Alex was reading a book while eating cereal in a way that clearly communicated she was above all of this.
"Ryan!" Phil jumped up when I walked in. "Great, another male perspective. Is it weird that I'm uncomfortable with Haley's boyfriend?"
"Very," I said. "But probably for reasons that are dad-coded instead of actually legitimate."
"That's fair," Phil said, sitting back down. "I respect that."
Claire gave me a look that was half-grateful, half-annoyed that Phil was taking advice from a teenager about parenting a teenager.
Haley came downstairs mid-conversation and immediately got defensive about Dylan, who Claire had apparently been texting about (in a very mom way). The argument was classic—Claire thought Dylan was wrong for her, Haley thought Claire didn't understand love, Phil tried to be supportive of everyone simultaneously and failed.
I stayed mostly out of it, but when Haley made a comment about how "nobody understands what it's like to really care about someone," I did say: "Caring about someone and that person being good for you are two different things. You can do both. Just make sure it's actually him and not the idea of him."
She didn't respond to that, which meant she'd heard it.
Luke showed up with a skateboard he'd clearly been working on in the garage, and the thing was genuinely impressive—he'd modified the wheels and balanced it in a way that shouldn't have worked but did.
"That's actually solid engineering," I told him.
"Right? But Mom says I can't ride it down the stairs."
"She's right, but also respect for trying."
Alex looked up from her book. "Did you know that statistically, skateboard injuries are—"
"Not right now, Alex," Claire said, but she was smiling.
Manny showed up with Gloria, who was stunning in that effortless way that made everyone else look like they'd woken up five minutes ago. Manny was being Manny—dramatic and poetic about something nobody asked him to be dramatic about. He'd apparently "discovered" a new Colombian restaurant and was waxing philosophical about the connection between food and culture.
It was during this moment that I noticed Gloria making eye contact with me while Manny was mid-monologue, and she smiled in that way that said she knew how ridiculous this was but didnt want to discourage him.
Then Manny started walking toward where Haley was standing. It wasn't aggressive or anything, but it had that energy—teenage boy, teenage girl, moment brewing. I'd seen this pattern before, the build-up before something awkward happens.
I stood up and positioned myself between them, seemingly casual, asking Manny about the restaurant. It broke whatever momentum was building. By the time Manny finished explaining the restaurant, the moment had passed, and he'd moved on to helping Luke with the skateboard.
Gloria caught my eye again and gave me an approving nod. I was getting better at reading situations.
While everyone was eating, my phone buzzed again. This time it was a group text from Mitchell that included me, Jay, Claire, Phil, and Gloria.
"Hey everyone. Cam and I were wondering if you'd all be free for lunch tomorrow? There's something we want to tell the family. Something good. We're coming back early to do this properly."
Immediately, the texts started flying.
Jay: "What did you do now?"
Claire: "Is everything okay?"
Gloria: "Ooh, mystery! I love surprises!"
Mitchell didn't respond to any of them, which was very unlike him. He usually addressed Jay's sarcasm immediately and assured Claire everything was fine. The silence was strategic, which meant whatever they were announcing had been planned carefully.
Phil leaned over at the table. "What's going on?"
"Mitch says they want to tell everyone something. Won't say what."
"Is he okay? Is Cameron okay?"
"He wouldn't be mysterious if it was bad," I said. But I was thinking hard. Mitchell and Cam had been talking about something for weeks—Cam had mentioned in passing that he wanted to "expand the family," which I'd assumed meant maybe getting a dog or something. But the way they'd been texting me, specifically, like this was partly about me...
That's when it hit me.
They were adopting a kid. Not just any kid. A sister.
The realization was weird. On one hand, I was going to be a big brother, which was objectively strange because I was older . On the other hand, it explained the vagueness, the fact that they'd asked me to stay with Jay (to give them time to finalize things), and why Mitchell had made a point of mentioning he was "doing better financially" the last time we talked about the future.
I didn't say anything to anyone. Instead, I texted Mitchell back: "Tomorrow is good. See you then."
The next day, the whole family met at a restaurant. It was the kind of place that was nice but not fancy—somewhere you could have an actual conversation without whispering.
Mitchell and Cam were already there when we arrived, sitting at a long table that had been set up for all of us. Cam looked like he was about to explode from excitement, literally bouncing in his seat. Mitchell looked nervous in the way he got when he cared about something a lot.
Jay sat down and immediately said, "What is it? Did you buy a house? Please tell me you didn't buy another house."
"We didn't buy a house," Mitchell said, and then he paused, looking at Cam, who nodded encouragingly.
"We're adopting," Cam said, unable to contain himself anymore. "We're adopting a baby girl."
The table went quiet for a second. Then Gloria made a sound of pure joy and grabbed Cam's arm. Claire smiled, genuinely. Phil said "That's amazing," in that dad way that somehow made it more genuine. Even Jay, after a moment of processing, nodded like he'd expected this eventually.
"We've been working with an adoption agency for months," Mitchell explained. "Everything came through last week. We're picking her up in three days."
Everyone started asking questions at once—how old, what's her name, what's the timeline, where is she from. Mitchell answered everything carefully, the way he always did when he was being a lawyer about his own life.
But then Cam looked at me and said, "We wanted to tell you first because you're going to be her big brother. Well, officially you already are, but we wanted you to know before we brought her home."
The table went quiet again. I hadn't realized how much I'd needed to hear someone say it out loud—that I was going to be a brother.
"What's her name?" I asked.
"We're thinking about letting her choose it if she wants to, eventually," Mitchell said. "But for now, we're calling her Lily."
Luke, who had been quiet up until now, asked: "Can we see pictures?"
Cam pulled out his phone, and suddenly there was a baby, maybe three months old, looking at the camera like she was already suspicious of the universe. She had big eyes and this expression that said she'd seen some things.
"She's perfect," Gloria said, and she meant it.
After lunch, I was getting in the car with Claire and Phil to go back to their place, but Claire said, "Actually, Ryan, Mitch texted and asked if we could drop you at their place. He wants to talk to you about the baby before the big introduction tomorrow."
So I ended up at Mitchell and Cam's house. They opened the door and immediately looked nervous, like they were waiting for me to react badly.
"So I'm going to be a big brother," I said.
"Yes," Mitchell said. "If you're okay with it. I know this is a lot to spring on you."
"It's weird," I said, "but good weird. Can I meet her?"
Cam practically sprinted to the bedroom where Lily was sleeping, and came back with a baby who looked even smaller in real life than in the picture. She was asleep, wrapped in this blanket that had little chess pieces on it—which made me think Cam might have chosen it specifically.
I held her for maybe five seconds before I got nervous I'd break something, but in those five seconds, I understood something. This wasn't about me. It was about this tiny human who needed a family, and she'd gotten one. The fact that I was part of that family now was secondary, but also... not.
"She's going to be incredible," I said.
Mitchell looked at me like I'd just said something profound instead of obvious.
That night, after everyone left and Lily was asleep, I played chess with Jay again. He'd come over to help set up the guest room, and before he left, he wanted a rematch.
We'd been playing for forty minutes. I had my endgame set up perfectly—rook and king versus his king, which was checkmate in three moves if he didn't see it coming.
He saw it coming. He moved his king to the only square that extended the game.
"You're thinking too far ahead again," he said.
"Is that bad?"
"No. It's just different. Your chess used to be reactive—responding to what I did. Now you're strategic. You're planning."
I moved my rook. Check.
"I guess becoming a big brother changes things," I said. It was supposed to be a joke, but it came out more serious.
Jay moved his king. "It does. You realize you're responsible for someone else now. Not just yourself."
"Deep, Jay."
"Don't get smart. I'm serious. That baby is going to look up to you. Mitchell and Cameron know this. They wouldn't have done this if they didn't think you could handle it."
I moved my rook again. Checkmate.
Jay studied the board for a moment, then tipped his king over. "You win. Again."
"I'm entering a tournament," I said. "Next month, if they'll have me."
Jay smiled, actually smiled. "About damn time."
[Status Screen: Update]
Mikhail Tal – Advanced (4,500 / 25,000)
Kazuma Satou – Advanced (8,500 / 25,000)
Patrick Jane – Intermediate (4,700 / 30,000)
Sometimes life changes in a single lunch. Sometimes you don't see it coming until you do.