Love Inspired August 2014 – Bundle 1 of 2 (25 page)

Finally, as he turned the boat around again, Heather dared to look his way. His whole
face had changed. His face showed warmth and understanding, not the defiance that
seemed to be his constant expression. “What happened?” An hour ago, she wouldn’t have
believed Max capable of such a tender tone.

She didn’t like the idea of his knowing the details. Those were private. But Max Jones
needed to know he was not the only person on earth to suffer a life-changing accident.
And out here on the water, Heather felt as if the secret could be safely contained.
“I was burned. In an accident. My junior year of high school.” Even those vague details
made her feel wildly exposed, and she hugged her knees again, clutching the scarred
thigh close and away from the world. “And whether or not you think it’s
useless,
I’m still very, very sorry it happened.”

She expected him to press her for details, but Max seemed to sense she’d taken a huge
step in admitting just the basic facts. He didn’t pry or challenge her need for privacy;
he just let her be quiet amid the wind and water. When they pulled the boat up to
the dock a peaceful hour later, Heather conceded that there might be more to Max Jones
than she’d realized.

Chapter Four

J
eannie Owens adjusted the gift basket’s ribbon Monday afternoon with an artist’s touch
before pushing it across the counter to Heather. “That ought to do the parents’ night
fund-raising auction proud, don’t you think?”

“Sure.”

The Sweet Treats candy-shop owner furrowed her brow. “I was hoping for a more enthusiastic
reaction. My chocolate-covered caramels are supposed to be sought after, not barely
tolerated.”

Heather knew very well how “sought after” Jeannie’s caramels were. Too well, if her
bathroom scale was any indication. “Sorry. This is fabulous—it’s even bigger than
last year’s.”

“But...” Jeannie cued, raising one eyebrow in concern rather than judgment.

Heather sighed. “It’s not you or the candy. I’m just preoccupied, I guess.”

“Trouble at school?” Heather knew Jeannie’s son had encountered his share of problems
freshman year at GFHS. While the school had tried to offer guidance, the real solution
had come from Fire Marshal Chad Owens, who’d not only befriended Jeannie’s son, Nick,
but fallen for Jeannie herself. Nick was now an exemplary senior and one of Heather’s
favorite happy endings for this graduating class.

“I’m worried about Simon Williams. Actually, I’m worried about what Jason Kikowitz
might do to Simon Williams.” She usually made it a point not to give names when talking
about school issues, but Jeannie had particular insight regarding a bully’s influence
on a boy facing problems.

Heather watched Jeannie try to place Simon’s name. It was no effort to place Jason’s—everyone
who had a student at GFHS knew who “that Kikowitz boy” was. “Williams...Brian Williams’s
boy? Chad said Brian was all huffed about something that happened at school. Now it
makes sense.” Her eyes filled with compassion. “As if high school isn’t hard enough.
To have to do it in a wheelchair must feel impossible.”

“Simon’ll make it. He’s such a good kid. Unsure of himself, but so smart.”

“But a target for guys like Kikowitz, I’m sure.” Jeannie pulled the top off a large
glass jar on her counter that was filled with her signature chocolate-covered caramels
and tilted the opening toward Heather. “You’ve got your hands full. That deserves
one on the house.”

Heather couldn’t help but pull a caramel from the jar, sure she would regret it later.
Even if Jeannie campaigned that the world’s problems could be solved with enough sugar
and chocolate, Heather’s hips put up valid resistance to the idea. “He’s got so much
potential. I care a lot about this one. Too much, maybe.”

“No such thing,” Jeannie said, sliding the canister back into place. “Don’t you ever
stop caring too much—it’s what makes you so good at what you do.” Jeannie had a vibrancy
about her that Heather loved. And she had a great family despite knowing a lot of
trials in her life. Sure, Heather came into Sweet Treats for the chocolate, but she
came in just as much for the friendship and support. “I wondered about him when the
family moved in over the summer,” Jeannie went on. “Chad says Brian is a terrific
father. Really engaged and involved.”

“He’s devoted to Simon—no doubt about it. Only I think this year is going to be a
challenge.”

“Jason Kikowitz is good at that.” Jeannie polished off the last of her caramel and
licked the lingering chocolate off her fingers.

“More than that, actually.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you remember how hard it is to loosen up on the reins when your child enters
high school.” That was a nicer way of putting it than Max’s
he needs to back off.
“I think Mr. and Mrs. Williams are going to have a tough time granting Simon the independence
to make his own mistakes, especially with the fine start Kikowitz has supplied.” It
was hard for most parents to strike that balance—Heather’s voice mail and email filled
every September with parents trying too hard to manage their kids’ high school experiences—but
doubly so in Simon’s case.

Jeannie’s face softened. “It’s the hardest thing in the world. Which is why the world
needs you. Have you decided how you’re going to help Simon?”

“Actually, JJ came up with the idea to have Max mentor him.”

Jeannie raised both her eyebrows. “Chad mentioned JJ told him something about a basketball
game?” Her expression appeared hopeful. “That sounds fun.” Yes, well, Jeannie had
always been famous for her unflinching optimism.

“It was...sort of. He and Simon certainly seemed to connect, but let’s just say I
have doubts Max will be much of a calming influence.”

“Calm?” Jeannie laughed. “Max Jones hasn’t been calm a day in his life. Did you see
his car? Nick was drooling over the flame paint job the other day.”

The car.
Everyone in Gordon Falls knew that car and had an opinion of both its look-at-me
paint and its here-I-come roar. “Yep. Can’t miss it—that’s for sure.”

Jeannie leaned on the counter with both elbows. “Well, I understand why you’re worried,
but you never know. Max might surprise you.”

“He’s already been a surprise—and not necessarily the good kind.” She hadn’t expected
Simon to take to Max so strongly, nor had she expected Max to take a shine to Simon
with the strength that he had. Of course, she’d wanted to put a halt to the thing
at first, but there was something about the combination of Max and Simon that wouldn’t
let her give up on the pair just yet. Maybe it had something to do with the way Simon
had laughed in triumph at the end of their basketball game. She got the sense he didn’t
laugh like that very often.

Jeannie came out from behind the counter to sit on one of the sunny yellow window-seat
cushions that lined one side of her shop. “I can’t help thinking it takes someone
like Max to stand up to someone like Kikowitz.”

“That’s just it,” Heather agreed.

“Then again,” Jeannie went on, “if I had to pick someone just as likely to make everything
worse, it might be Max.”

“And
that’s
just it.” Heather sat down beside Jeannie. “Sure, Simon thinks he’s terrific right
now. He looks cool. He talks up a great game. But I don’t really know him—he seems
all swagger and no substance. Max could have too much influence—and all the wrong
kind—on a kid like that.”

“Alex puts a lot of faith in him, and I don’t think Alex would do that if he didn’t
see something in Max that was more than just a snazzy paint job. He’s willing to help,
right? Can’t be all that bad if he’s at least willing to lend a hand.”

The memory of Max’s thundering muffler as it roared out of the school parking lot
gave Heather enough reason to doubt Jeannie’s optimism. “I’m not so sure. Max is very...sure
of himself. Actually, he’s arrogant, confrontational and rather tactless.”

Jeannie wound one piece of hair around a finger, thinking. “Maybe Max is exactly the
kind of guy Simon needs. What boy wouldn’t want to know you can be in a wheelchair
and still be that cool? I know he’s a bit over-the-top, but Nick thinks he’s ‘sick’—and
evidently that’s a compliment.” Jeannie laughed. “He’s not exactly hard to look at,
and all those adventures he goes on...”

“He’s a walking...
rolling
barrel of ‘look at me.’ He’s so busy shoving his circumstances in your face that
he forgets you’re even in the room.” Max wasn’t the first man in her life to be so
busy being a cause that he’d forgotten how to be a person. She wasn’t eager to repeat
the experience.

Jeannie pushed off the wall and headed toward the cash register as a knot of giggling
girls pushed into the store. “Well, I’ll give him one thing.”

Heather settled her handbag higher on her shoulder and picked up the massive gift
basket. “What?”

“He knows how to get a rise out of you.”

* * *

Tuesday afternoon, Max rolled into Heather’s office in response to a phone-message
summons.

“It’s one-thirty.” She scowled at the big white standard-issue school clock on her
wall when he arrived. “I asked you to come by in the morning. It was kind of urgent.”

“I had an appointment. I got here as soon as I could afterward.” Normally he didn’t
mention the dozens of monthly medical visits his condition required, but he wanted
her to know life wasn’t all fun and games for him, even if he was in the fun-and-games
business. “My neurologist is a nice guy but not nice enough to ditch just because
you need backup.”

She didn’t seem capable of pulling off a mean face. “Who says I need backup?”

“It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know your voice mail is probably chock-full
of worried calls from Brian Williams today. Come on—I saw that one coming a mile off.
Has he asked you to keep me away from his precious impressionable son yet?”

He’d nailed it; he could see it in her eyes. “Do you have to ride the man so hard?
He cares about his son.”

He wheeled farther into her office. She’d moved her guest chair to the side to accommodate
his chair. That settled somewhere soft in the back of his brain. “It’s been my experience
that there’s a very thin line between care and smother. Especially when you’re fifteen.
Did you see Simon’s eyes when his father pulled up after the basketball game? Did
you hear how even the school ramp made Pops nervous?”

Heather leaned one elbow on her desk. “How long, exactly, has it been since you were
fifteen?”

He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of a number. “A while.”

“Well, then, think back a while and remember that every student his age—disability
or not—is mortified by everything their parents do. It’s practically rule number one
in the high schooler’s handbook.”

“Hey, you just made a joke.” He angled himself around to dig a hand into the bag he
kept attached to the back of his chair.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Really?” Heather was just so much fun to tick off,
Max suspected he was going to get in trouble here far faster than his usual rate—which
was pretty fast as it was.

“Well—” he found what he was looking for and pulled it out of the bag “—it just makes
it easier to give you this.” Scooting up to her desk, he planted a bright pink rubber
duck made to look like a flamingo on top of her files. It made a ridiculous squeaking
sound as he did so, its little black rubber sunglasses squishing in on its hooked
flamingo beak before inflating back into shape. Normally he wasn’t the gift type—barely
remembering birthdays and such—but this had caught his eye in the hospital gift shop.
The tone of her voice mail had made it clear Brian Williams had clouded up and rained
all over her morning, and he’d wanted to cheer her up. “It’s a flamingo rubber duck,
which is kind of a joke when you think about it.” When she looked genuinely startled,
he added, “For your collection. And for not getting here until now.”

She reached for it, and he could see she was holding back a smile. “You know, a phone
call to let me know your time frame would have been all I needed.” Her words were
all
you shouldn’t have
but her eyes were
I love it.
How did someone so transparent make any headway with predators like teenagers?

She placed the flamingo-duck right next to the one he’d toyed with at their first
meeting. “Yes, Mr. Williams expressed his concern.”

“Is that teacher-speak for
he chewed my ear off?
”

“Let’s just say I think it will take more than rubber waterfowl to bring Mr. Williams
around. He was curious...suspicious, actually, that you clearly did not include him
in your sailing invitation. That, more than any physical danger, is what kept Simon
off your boat Saturday.”

Max didn’t like where this was heading. “He’s jealous?”

“Could you be serious for one minute here? Schools have to tread carefully where and
how we let adults alone with students. And there are really good reasons—really awful
ones, actually—why those rules are in place. He’s in the right here, Max. I should
have never okayed that boat outing.”

Max had no patience for this kind of red-tape stupidity. “You’ve gotta be kidding
me. You were going along. Brian Williams knows who I am. He works with my sister.
I’m not some creep off the train from the big bad city.”

Heather sat back in her chair. “Do you want to help Simon or not?”

“Yes!” He didn’t even have to think about the answer. Simon’s eyes had been haunting
him all weekend. He was like a walking poster child for everything Adventure Access
was about—giving people with disabilities the chance to be regular people and have
the kinds of fun that everyone craved. Max didn’t just want to help Simon; some part
of him
needed
to help the little guy.

That clearly wasn’t the answer she was expecting. Wow, did she really think he’d walk
away just because Daddy got hot under the collar? That bugged him more than Williams’s
unfounded suspicions.

“Then we’ve got to work within the boundaries here. Simon’s dad sees him as vulnerable,
and he’s not all wrong. This is hard for any parent, much less one with as much to
worry about as Brian Williams has on his plate.”

She was right, of course. Some part of him recognized that. He’d gone in full blast,
letting Williams’s perfectly natural responses get under his skin because of how much
he
hated being coddled. And while she was eons better now, hadn’t his own mother been
ten times worse than Brian Williams when he was first injured? “Yeah.” He owed her
at least that much of an acknowledgment.

“If it helps, I think he really should go out on your boat. It’s a beautiful boat,
and it’s fascinating to watch how it works and you work on it. It’s just not the right
starting point. Basketball? Now, that was a good first step for a lot of reasons.
Can we think of something else like that? Something that can take place here on school
property?”

“Williams is going to supervise, isn’t he?”

“Yes.” Her eyes flicked down at the admission. “He’s asked to be present.” She looked
up. “Think you can play nice here?”