Reluctantly, Izzy opened the lower drawer of her drawing table and dug through a small stack of paper. She tugged out a plastic bag filled with yellow, oval-shaped pills, fingering them through the plastic for a moment before handing the bag to Max.
“Let’s flush these.” He stepped toward the bathroom.
“No. You’re not supposed to flush them. You’re supposed to cover them in something gross and toss them out.”
“Like what?”
“Coffee grounds, for one.” She took the bag and went downstairs. Max followed.
“My dad made up a pot of his specialty brew before he left.” She pulled out a tray near the top of the coffee maker and dumped the damp grounds into the bag of Percocet’s. “He grinds the beans himself. He’ll spend all kinds of money on gourmet coffee beans, but I’ll get an hour long lecture about the cost of gas when I need to use the car to go to the store for tampons.” She zipped the bag shut and worked the grounds all around the pills.
“That is a disgusting mess.” Max grimaced.
“Which is exactly the point.” She opened the trash compactor and dumped the bag inside and pushed the button. “Goodbye.” She waved to the pills. “You know I suffered needlessly with pain for two months to save those up, right?”
He held out his index finger. With a crooked grin, she looped hers around his. “Keep to the code,” they said in unison.
Chapter 24
Max spent his entire Saturday cleaning. Spring cleaning, according to Tim. Before leaving for work, he’d made a list of chores for Max and told him they better be done if he valued his large backside. It wasn’t until Tim drove away with the blond that he remembered about the pen again. The dreams had gotten old. Every night. Over and over. He knew why he’d forgotten to give the stupid pen to Tim. With the tug of war for his time between visiting Em and visiting Izzy, he barely had time for homework. Why JD kept obsessing over the stupid thing anyway was beyond him.
Max’s arms throbbed by the time he finished scrubbing the bathroom grout with an old toothbrush. His mother had always had him used bleach to clean their grout. It worked great, and he didn’t have to scrub. But Mel didn’t have bleach. Max had to use baking soda and a toothbrush to beat back the mold.
“I’m telling Mel to buy bleach,” he grumbled, rinsing the last of the baking soda off the shower walls. He checked off the shower from the list, glaring at the final task. “Seriously? Dust the tops of the door frames?”
Max grabbed a rag and wiped off all four doorframes. He tossed the rag in the short pile of dirty clothes, grateful that Mel had done the laundry last night. Max had no doubt that Tim would have had him hauling it down to the Laundromat today.
He didn’t finish the ridiculous list until eight-thirty that evening. He called Izzy and talked to her for a bit. Her dad came home yesterday.
“Is he bothering you at all?” Max opened his math book and sat down at the table.
“He hasn’t been home long enough, really. Besides, I already told you, since he started dating Wanda, all’s good. I think he’s going to ask her to marry him. I’ll soon have a stepmother who’s almost my age. Maybe we can have pajama parties together,” she giggled.
“There’s a thought,” Max said dryly.
“I’ll be in school on Monday, I think. My dad wants me to get back in the saddle. He’s such a dork. I told him no one ever says that anymore. He just got mad and stomped out of my room. Mature stock I come from.”
“I’ll try and come over tomorrow, if Tim doesn’t have another list for me.”
After he spoke with Izzy, he called Em. She’d improved a lot over the past few days, much to Max’s relief, though she didn’t like having to miss the semifinal game. They won. Max only got to see the first three innings, choosing to stay with Em so she wouldn’t be alone while everyone else watched the game.
She answered the phone on the first ring. “Hi, Em.”
“Hey, JD. I thought you were coming by today. Getting bored with me?”
Not even in a million years, Em. “No. My mom’s boyfriend decided I should be a grunt today. I’ve cleaned the house from top to bottom. It looks pretty amazing, if I do say so,” Max bragged.
“I’m sure it does,” Em agreed. “I have some good news. The doctors are sending me home tomorrow.”
“So soon?” Max didn’t like that idea at all.
“I’ll probably only stay half the day at school Monday. But midterms are coming up, and I need to get back to my studies.”
Max wanted to argue the fact that her life was a tad more important than midterms, but he held his tongue. “Can I come by the house and see you tomorrow?”
“Yes. Please do. I’m supposed to be home by noon,” she said.
“Okay, noon it is. See you tomorrow.”
Max filled out the college application for JD and mailed it off before finishing his homework, freeing himself for the entire day tomorrow. Between visiting both Izzy and Emma, he’d be busy again. He’d also be riding a pink bike.
The next morning, Tim made him mow the grass and edge the yard. With his mom being home, Tim treated him somewhat better, at least when she was within earshot.
“Tim promises to be more patient with you, JD. He really wants to make things good for us, so please, try your best,” she said as he put the edger back in the shed.
Max almost told her about the blond, but Tim strutted out, interrupting their conversation. “You have a phone call, Mel. It’s the Rose Garden. They want you to come in this afternoon. I think you should take it. We need the money.”
“Mom, you’ve already put in over sixty hours this week. Tell them no.”
“Keep out of this, fa—JD.” Tim glared at him.
Just as Max suspected. Tim had no intention of being patient with JD. He told Mel what she wanted to hear. Max wanted to point out that if Tim were so worried about money, then why did he work only twenty seven hours this week? Instead, he headed for the house to get a cool drink and take a shower before he went to see his friends.
He showered and changed quickly, wanting to get out of the house before Mel left for work. He had a feeling Tim would have another list for him otherwise. He rode the bike slowly, not wanting to be a sweaty mess when he visited Em.
“Good afternoon, JD. Come on in.” Bev held the door open wide for him. She had her Kiss the Cook, But Cash is Accepted Also apron on, which meant she was baking cookies. She led him to the family room past the tray of fresh baked peanut butter cookies. He tried not to drool.
The family room looked like a florist shop with all the flowers and balloons everywhere. Two cheerleaders, Holly and Emily, sat next to Em on the couch, giggling.
“JD, hi!” Em smiled as he approached the couch. She wore a sling wrapped around her torso to hold her arm and shoulder in place.
“Girls, I hate to be a nag, but your time is up.” Noah stood in the doorway with a stopwatch.
“Oh, it can’t be. We just got here,” said Emily.
“I think your watch is wrong,” complained Holly. She stood and clutched her purse under her arm. “We’ll see you tomorrow, Em.” She bent over and kissed Emma’s cheek, as did Emily.
“Bye. Thanks for stopping by.” Emma waved with her good hand.
“You have twenty minutes, JD.” Noah clicked his stopwatch and went back in the kitchen.
“Just ignore the little general. Dad’s paying him to babysit me.” Emma sat up straight.
“He’s not paying me enough,” Noah complained from the doorway, a still warm cookie in his hand. “Those cheerleader friends of yours are vicious.”
“Thanks for coming by,” she said when Noah left. “Your face looks so much better. How are you feeling?”
“Tim’s been working me hard the past couple days, but otherwise, I’m good. Does the arm and shoulder hurt?”
“Nope.” He frowned at her. “Okay, a little, but not too bad. I can’t miss any more school, JD.”
“Em, the teachers will work w
ith you. You had a concussion. And you have a broken arm and collar bone.”
“Hairline fracture of the clavicle, actually.”
Max rolled his eyes, shoving his hands through his hair. Emma grinned.
“You’re not going to get anywhere with her, JD.” Marty came in through the garage carrying a couple bags of groceries. “I’ve talked to her about waiting a few more days until even I’m sick of hearing my voice. She’s insisting on going back to school.”
“I’m fine. You’re all overreacting.” Emma got up, slowly, and walked into the kitchen. JD followed.
“Do you want some lemonade?” She pulled out a pitcher from the fridge and set it on the counter. Max tried to help with the glasses, but after she shot him a bone-chilling glare, he snagged a cookie and stood at the end of the counter instead.
“Leo stopped by today. I’m worried about him.” Em took a small bite of a cookie as she spoke.
“Me too. I have no idea how to help Leo since he hates me.” Max set his warm cookie down. He grieved over Leo. He struggled to find a way of comforting his life-long friend, but always came up blank.
“I was thinking maybe—”
“Time’s up,” Noah announced.
“Dad, not JD, too. Can’t he stay a little longer, please?”
“I suppose, if you stay seated in the family room. I don’t want you wandering all over the place. The doctor said you have to take it easy,” her father reminded her, not for the first time Max was sure.
“Fine.” She glared at Max and added, “Now you know where Noah gets his dictator tendencies from.” She opened the cupboard and took out a small orange bottle of pills and swallowed two before going back into the family room.
“Do you think Izzy would mind if I went to visit her? She’s been on my mind lately.” Em leaned her head back against the couch, looking tired.
“She’s going to school tomorrow for the first time since her surgery, too. She could use a friend. I mean she has me, but she doesn’t have any female friends.”
“I will. I thought about—”
“Okay. Are you hiding one of your friends, Em?” Noah checked the coat closet and behind the couch.
“What are you talking about?” Em sat up, wincing.
“There’s a pink bike outside. I know JD didn’t ride it here, so whose is it?”
“JD, you’re still riding the pink bike? I told you you could use Max’s old bike.” She struggled to stand up.
“Sit down, Em. I’ll get it for him,” Noah insisted. “It’s out in the shed, JD.”
Max followed him out, grinning widely when he saw his gray mountain bike. Marty came over as they pulled it out.
“JD’s taking Max’s old bike, dad. He’s been riding a pink one.” Noah shook his head in disgust.
“Em’s letting you use this?” Marty asked, smiling.
“Yes, is that alright?”
“More than alright. I’m surprised she’s willing to give it up is all.” He took the bike and rolled it to his truck. He drove a black three-quarter ton pickup that Max coveted.
“Nice truck.” Max ran his hand along the bed.
“Thanks. I’ll load the two bikes in the truck and take you home.” He lifted the gray bike into the bed. Noah came around the corner, pushing the pink one along. “Do you have a pink helmet, too?” he teased.
Max braced himself for what was coming. Em’s dad was a fanatic about bike helmets. “I don’t have a helmet.”
Marty froze, mid-swing with the pink bike. He glared at Max and finished setting the bike inside the truck bed. “JD, do you know how many kids suffer brain injuries each year needlessly because they don’t wear a helmet?”
As he droned on with the lecture Max knew by heart, Noah stood behind him imitating him. Max struggled not to laugh. He finally lowered his head so he didn’t have to look at Noah.
“Noah, are you mocking me?” Marty said without glancing behind.
“Now, dad, would I do that?” He looked at Max innocently.
“Just get the rope out of the shed so we can tie the bikes down. I don’t want them sliding around and scratching up my paint. JD, I believe Em still has Max’s old helmet somewhere. You’ll have to ask her, I don’t know where she’s keeping it.” He added under his breath, “Though I have a pretty good idea,” as Max opened the patio door.
Em was still in the family room, but she was sound asleep. He stood watching her for a moment. Even sleeping, he thought her beautiful.
“Did you find the helmet, JD?” Noah traipsed through the room heading straight to the kitchen sink to wash his dirt covered hands.
“She’s asleep. I didn’t want to wake her,” Max said following him.
“I think I saw it in her room yesterday. Down the hall, third door on the right.” He continued lathering his hand as he pointed with his chin.
Max knew the way. Her parents had a strict open door policy when it came to bedrooms, but he’d helped her carry books and cheerleading paraphernalia to her room too many times to count. Max turned the knob and pushed the door open, stopping dead in his tracks.
Pictures. Dozens and dozens of them, staring at him. He stepped into the room. It looked nothing like it did two months ago when he’d helped her search for a lost glove.
Em had turned her room into a shrine . . . to him. Pictures of Max covered the walls as thick as wallpaper in many areas, some in frames, some simply tacked to the wall with the playful tacks Em loved. In the mirror over her vanity were more photos tucked into the frame.
She’d mounted old movie tickets stubs onto foam board and attached them to her pink and blue bulletin board with ribbon. A playbill from Fiddler on the Roof sat prominently in a shadow box on her dresser. On the wall next to her bed she’d mounted his letterman jacket. Max remembered the night she wore it last. They’d gone to dinner to celebrate her eighteenth birthday at her favorite restaurant, The Blue Moon. When they left, it started raining and he gave her the jacket to keep her dry. He told her she could keep it until their golden wedding anniversary.
“Did you find it?” Marty asked stepping next to him.
Max, still stunned, just stared at him. Marty nodded. “We’ll talk in the truck,” he said low. He stepped past Max and scooped the helmet up from a chair in the corner. “I’ll meet you outside.”
He wandered back out to Em, bewildered. He knew he should be flattered, only he felt sick to his stomach instead. Em, still asleep on the couch, stirred as he came in the room. Slowly, her eyes peeled open and she smiled up at him. She struggled to stand and Max slipped an arm around her waist to help her.
“Thanks, Max,” she said softly.
She’d called him Max. Again, part of him was thrilled, as if he had a small piece of her back in his life, but…
“JD,” he corrected.
“What?” she said, confused.
“You called me Max. I’m JD,” he pointed out.
“Sorry,” she giggled. “These stupid pain pills make me loopy. I’ll be glad when I no longer need to take them. Besides,” she added, “you and Max do share a lot of the same traits.” She mimicked the way he ran his hands through his hair when he stressed.
“JD, I’m really tired. I think I should go to bed. You don’t mind, do you?” She didn’t wait for an answer, instead heading straight for her bedroom.
Max went out to the truck and climbed in. “She’s still struggling with losing Max,” Marty said, stating the obvious. “It’s gotten worse. She sits in her room and looks at old cell phone videos of him, or spends hours working on a scrapbook she’s making about him. She still cries herself to sleep at night.”
He rubbed a hand over his face. Max said nothing. He didn’t know what to say. They backed out of the driveway and turned toward JD’s house.
“She was doing better. She met you and started running again. We limited the time she could spend at his grave. When she brought you over for dinner that first night, Bev and I were so happy that she was finally moving
forward with her life. But she’s gotten worse, not better. Bev and I are worried.” He shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong, JD. We don’t want her to forget Max. We loved him too, and his family. We just want her to move on with her life and stop dwelling on the could have, should have beens. Am I wrong to want that for her?”
“No, sir. Not at all. I’ll do what I can to help,” Max promised, not knowing what that would be.
“Thanks, JD. I appreciate that.” He smiled, slowing as they approached JD’s house. “Now which house is yours again?”
Marty helped Max unload the bikes and put them in the shed. “Thanks, JD. Bev and I appreciate your friendship with our daughter.” He held out his hand and Max shook it. “We’ll see you tomorrow, I’d imagine.”
Chapter 25
Max slumped onto the bed. His selfish desire to be around Em hurt her. How could he not see that? He twisted to his side, punching the pillow, uncertain over what to do. Her friendship with JD was vital. Her simple act of accepting him had helped JD to be accepted by others, like Jeff. But he couldn’t allow his friendship to hurt Em either. There had to be a balance. The phone rang, interrupting his guilt trip.
“Hi, JD,” Izzy said. She’d asked him to come over and have dinner with her tonight. Max looked at his watch, relieved he wasn’t late. “I’m going to have to cancel. My stupid bag is leaking again.” He heard the frustration in her voice.
“Do you need help?” He had no idea how he could possibly help, but he made the offer anyway.
“No. The doctor warned me this could happen, but I don’t think I’ll be in school tomorrow.”
“Do you have to have more surgery?” Max sat upright.
“No. I left a message with the doctor’s service. I think they’ll try a different style of bag. That’s the easiest way to describe it without getting all technical on you.” Max noted the uncomfortable tone in her voice. He let the subject drop.
“How’s the painting coming along? Did you finish the sky?”
“Yes. It looks so good. I might have it framed for my room. For alongside my bed, maybe.”