A Heart to Heal. Allie Pleiter

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СКАЧАТЬ Her eyes narrowed. “Yes, well, the nice, appropriate people from social services were not available. This isn’t how I normally operate. It’s only fair to tell you you’re not my first choice.”

      Max could only smile. “Alternative. Well, I’d have to say that’s exactly my specialty.”

Chapter Two

      Max hadn’t really expected Appropriate Ms. Browning to go for the idea of a pickup basketball game—especially one with the twist he had in mind—but she surprised him by agreeing to book the school auxiliary gym. Two days later, Max found himself whistling as his basketball made a perfect arc, rolled dramatically around the rim and then settled obediently through the net. “Jones nails it from behind the line with seconds to spare.”

      His sister, JJ, palmed a ball against one hip. “Nice shot.”

      Max turned to face her. “Let me see you do one.”

      JJ nodded and dribbled the ball, getting ready to best her little brother. “No,” Max corrected. “From the chair.” He pointed toward the three armless, low-backed sports wheelchairs that sat against the wall. He’d decided even before he was out of the parking lot the other day that the best way to meet Simon Williams was a pickup game of wheelchair basketball. The boys-against-girls element, with he and Simon facing JJ and Heather Browning? Well, that had been a brilliant afterthought.

      JJ paused for a moment, shot Max the look years of sibling rivalry had perfected and sauntered over to the chair. After settling in, she wheeled toward him in a wobbly line, smirking. “Not so hard.”

      “Really?” Max teased, rocking back to pop a wheelie in his chair. “I’ve been waiting to smoke you on the court for months.”

      She laughed, trying to bounce the ball until it got away from her. “Just like you smoked me on the ski slope?”

      Max shot over to scoop up the ball and passed it back to her. “Worse. Okay, try a shot.”

      JJ missed by a mile. “This is going to be harder than I thought.”

      Max grabbed the ball, dribbled up to the basket and sunk another one in. “Actually, this is going to be a lot more fun than I thought. Me and Simon should wipe the floor with you girls.”

      “Simon and I” came Heather’s voice from the gym door. “And don’t get too confident. You will get a fair fight from us ladies.”

      Max groaned, JJ smirked and the kid who had to be Simon Williams had the good sense to look a little baffled by whatever he’d just gotten himself into. The boy was spindly thin and a bit pale. His glasses sat a little crooked on his face, and a 1970s haircut didn’t help his overall lack of style. Still, his sharp blue eyes and goofy grin made him oddly likable.

      Max caught the kid’s eye and lamented, “Teacher types.”

      “Yeah.” The boy’s response was noncommittal and soft. He’d expected the boy’s smile to widen, but it had all but disappeared.

      Shy, skinny and unsure of himself—Max remembered the years when he used to eat kids like this for breakfast. It wasn’t a comfortable memory. He wheeled over to Simon and pointed to the line of chairs. “Can you transfer into that sports chair by yourself? I guessed on your size but I think it’s close enough.” Heather had given him some basic medical info on Simon’s cerebral palsy—a condition that mostly left his legs too unstable to support him for more than a few steps.

      “Uh-huh.” Again, a small voice lacking any stitch of confidence. Max began to wonder if the kid had ever played any sport, ever. He looked as if his family hardly let him outside in the sunshine. Max pretended to be adjusting his gloves while he watched Simon slowly maneuver from his larger daily chair to the smaller, lower sports chair. It was a relief to see that he could do it by himself. The kid’s steps were gangly and poorly controlled, but while Max had met other cerebral palsy patients with very spastic movements all over their bodies, Simon’s seemed to be confined to his legs. He had the upper-body control to have some fun in a sports chair, yet he looked as if he’d never seen one. If he’d never known speed, this chair would be a barrel of fun. Somehow, he doubted this kid had ever seen much fun.

      Whose fault was that? His shy personality? Or overprotective parents? Well, that drought was going to end today. The thought of introducing the boy to agility sparked a faint foreign glow of satisfaction that caught Max up short.

      JJ noticed his reaction. She raised an eyebrow in inquiry as Simon finished settling himself into his seat. “What?”

      “I think I just got a bit of an Alex rush.” Max knew he’d regret admitting that to his sister. His boss—Alex Cushman, JJ’s husband—was always going on and on about the charge he got from taking people out of their comfort zones into new adventures.

      “Not all about the new toys anymore?” Her tone was teasing, but JJ’s eyes were warm. That girl was so stuck on her new husband it was like a nonstop valentine to be with either one of them.

      “No, it’s still about the new toys.” Max popped another wheelie and executed a tight circle around his sister. He turned his attention back to Simon, now sitting next to a delightfully baffled Heather as the two of them explored the gear. “What do you think?”

      “They’re crooked,” Simon offered in a sheepish voice as he pointed to the wheels. Unlike the straight-up-and-down wheels of his daily chair, this chair’s wheels tilted toward the middle.

      “Nah, they’re cambered. Gives you stability and agility. You can turn fast on these. Try it.”

      Max watched as Simon, JJ and Heather made circles in their chairs. Slow, careful circles. Max growled and came up behind JJ to give her a hefty shove. She shot forward, yelping, and then managed to turn herself around in a respectably quick U-turn. “Cut that out, Max!”

      “Quit being snails, the lot of you. These things are made for speed. Use ’em!” He angled up next to Simon, who looked as if someone needed to give him permission to keep breathing. “Race ya.”

      “Huh?”

      “First one to the end of the gym and back gets ice cream.”

      Simon just looked at him. Who’d been keeping this poor kid under glass? Max chose to ignore the uncertainty written on the boy’s face and pretend his silence was a bargaining tactic.

      “Okay, then, two ice creams and you get a three-second lead,” he conceded. Max allowed himself a sly wink at the guidance counselor. “Ms. Browning said she’d buy.”

      “I never...”

      Simon started pushing on his wheels. Max whooped. “One...two...three!”

      * * *

      A sweaty, crazy hour later, Heather had fed every dollar bill and coin she had into the school vending machine as she, Max, JJ and Simon sat on the school’s front steps eating ice cream.

      “There’s a whole basketball league,” Max explained to Simon. “And hockey. I’ve even seen a ski team.” She watched Max look Simon up and down. “You’re kinda skinny for the hockey thing, but I saw the way you shot today. Wouldn’t take long for you to hold your own pretty nicely on the court.”

      “You СКАЧАТЬ