Maxwells Smile

last year.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    The touch of Rachel’s hand on his shoulder did something to his tight muscles, soothing and releasing his tension. But it also put him back to the same place he’d been, standing alone in the garage with one of Jeff’s photo albums, stuffed with pictures of his younger brother in a Vikings jersey, holding a football and making goofy faces.
    “I, uh…” He glanced toward Maxwell, who was now staring at him openmouthed. “I still get choked up about my brother. Jeff was only six years older than you, buddy. He had a tough time of it his last few weeks. And when I was thinking about him, I wasn’t prepared for your mom to show up and be so pretty and friendly and bright, like she always is.”
    He looked at Rachel, who offered him a smile that was as soft and welcoming as the purple flowers skirting her house.
    Maxwell nodded. “I forgive you for upsetting my mom.”
    “Thanks.”
    That simple gesture made it even harder to stand there and reveal his pain. But Sam had tossed it out there, had revealed his framework, which was desperately in need of some supportive repair.
    “You should have told us about Jeff before,” Rachel said.
    Sam shrugged. “I’m never sure how to bring something like that up. One of those questions you had yesterday that I didn’t answer. It’s personal, you know? And we guys, well…” Right. That was about all he could manage for now in the revealing-one’s-emotions department. “So, I, um, think I should go.”
    “No, stay,” Rachel said. Her fingers moved to gently clasp his forearm. “Please?”
    Much as he didn’t want to break that tender contact, Sam knew himself too well.
    “I think right now I need to be alone. Hell, I gotta head out to the truck. Maybe kick the tires a few times, you know? ‘Bye, Maxwell. I promise we’ll have dinner some other day.”
    Sam quickly left the hospital, feeling more torn than he had when he’d been in the garage. If only the kid hadn’t been so forgiving. It was as if Maxwell’s smile had reached in and touched his heart, and that felt great. Yet at the same time, Sam didn’t know what to do with the empathy.
    And man, had he needed Rachel’s touch. He could still feel her quiet strength, warm on his skin.
    * * *
    Rachel handed Maxwell the remote to the waiting room television. The doctor was running thirty minutes late due to an emergency, so they might be there awhile. He’d finished the chapter in his book, and now he looked toward the stack of DVDs on the table.
    “Go ahead,” she said. “I’m sure there’s a good movie in there somewhere.”
    “Mom.”
    Rachel sighed. “What, Maxwell?”
    “Are you really going to let Sam walk off like that?”
    She turned to look at her son. The forty-year-old man occupying his soul wagged a finger at her and shook his head in the most astonishing, and knowing, reprimand. “He’s upset, Maxwell.”
    “I know, but do you think he was taking care of his brother all alone? Without any parents? He’s never mentioned his parents, so they could be dead, too. You should go talk to him.”
    Right now that’s what she wanted more than anything. Sam had clearly been out of sorts. She hated to see anyone so torn. Her heart wept to know how awful he could be feeling.
    “Are you sure?”
    The credits for a children’s cartoon began to roll, and Maxwell’s attention switched to the television. “Go,” he muttered. “I can go into the doctor’s office on my own.”
    “No, you need a parent with you.”
    “Yeah, but it’s another twenty minutes for sure. And I know Lisa.”
    The receptionist smiled at them. She’d babysat Maxwell for two summers, and Rachel trusted her.
    “The parking lot is right outside the window,” Maxwell said. “I can see Sam’s truck. He hasn’t left yet. Go, Mom! I can wave to you when the doctor is ready.”
    She leaned in and kissed his forehead. “I love you, Maxwell McHenry.”
    He gave her a little push. “Hurry up, or you might miss him.”

Chapter Seven
    Rachel spied Sam’s truck at the back of the parking lot. She had to smile. It was a wonder the vehicle even stayed together with all the rust patching over what she guessed had once been a forest-green body. Two sets of ladders were strapped across a side rack and Sam’s back was to her. He leaned his elbows on the truck bed.
    She swallowed, sensing this was not going to be easy for either of them. Rachel McHenry was the queen of keeping her