Brit unties Max’s shoe, pulling the laces as loose as she can get them, and gently pulls the sneaker off. Max sucks in a breath and clenches his teeth as though he’s waiting for the pain. His face relaxes when she drops his shoe to the floor.
“Max, is it okay if I try and take your sock off of your foot?” His eyes widen and I put a reassuring hand on his knee. “If it hurts even a little bit,” Brit says, holding her fingers an inch apart, “then we’ll stop. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Hooking her fingers along the top of the sock, she slowly peels the cotton off of his swollen ankle.
“Is it broken?” Max asks, his eyes flitting between Brit and me.
“I don’t know,” she says, cocking her head to the side. “We’re going to take some X-rays, but first I’m going to move it around a bit, okay?”
Max pushes up on his hands so that he can watch her. “Don’t hurt me.”
“I’m not trying to hurt you,” Brit says, shaking her head. “But I need to take a closer look at your ankle.” She runs a hand over his ankle and then uses her palm to cup the bottom of his foot. Manipulating it from side to side, she examines how much movement he has. “Does that hurt?” Max shakes his head and she pushes the foot up and then down. “How about that?” He shakes his head again. Brit moves his foot in a circular motion and Max cries out in pain.
“Ow!” he yells, his eyes instantly welling with tears. “Th—that hurt. Stop,” he says, reaching for his ankle. “Where’s my dad?” he asks again, looking at me.
“Right here, bud.” Tyson strides into the room, worry etched across his face. He walks up to the bed and sits down near Max’s hip. Like a magnet, Max’s arms latch around Tyson’s waist. The amazing father that he is, Tyson doesn’t miss a beat, wrapping Max in a big hug and kissing the top of his head. “What happened?” he mumbles into Max’s hair.
“I was practicing my Ollie.”
Tyson pulls back, his face awash with pride as he looks down at Max. “You learned how to do an Ollie?” Max gives Tyson a toothy smile and nods, his tears magically gone.
“One of the other kids taught me,” Max says. “It didn’t look that hard, and I should’ve landed it.” Max’s brows furrow and he looks down as though he’s trying to figure out what went wrong.
Tyson smiles, and for the first time his eyes find mine. “Are you okay?”
“I didn’t cry once.” Surprisingly.
“Does that mean you’re going to cry later on tonight when you think no one is listening?”
“Probably,” I mumble, averting my eyes. Brit is watching our family interaction with a look of interest. When her eyes find mine, she clears her throat and quickly looks away. For the first time since Tyson came back nearly two years ago, it hits me.
This is what she lost.
Brit had a promising career ahead of her and a fiancé that had promised her the world. She’d probably planned for two point five kids, a golden retriever and a white picket fence. Then, in the blink of an eye, that dream was gone.
Brit clears her throat, pulling me from my thoughts, and she stands up. Tyson looks over as though he’s just now noticing she’s in the room. His gaze swivels to me and he watches me carefully, probably trying to figure out how I’m dealing with the whole Brit-taking-care-of-Max thing.
“She’s been amazing,” I tell him, nodding toward Brit. Any tension that had been in the room instantly drains when Brit laughs.
“Well, I don’t know about amazing,” she says, fluttering her eyelashes. “But I’ll take the compliment regardless.”
“I think you’re amazing,” Max says, perking up.
“You do?” she asks playfully.
“Yup.” Max nods and looks at Ty. “My foot doesn’t even hurt anymore.”
My guess is Tyson’s presence had more to do with that than anything Brit did, but we all laugh. Brit then walks over to where a laptop is sitting on the counter and she types a few things in before turning back toward us. “I really don’t think it’s broken,” she says. “But we’ll do an X-ray just to make sure.”
“Does this mean I don’t have to get a shot?”
“No, Max,” she says, walking toward him and holding her hand up to give him a high-five. “No shots today. You were a trooper.” Max slaps her hand and she mutters a quick goodbye as she walks out of the room.
At the sound of Max’s laughter, I turn my head. Tyson and Max have their heads huddled together, watching something on Tyson’s phone. “What are you looking at?”
My question goes unanswered. I don’t mind though, because the sight of these two—the two men in my life—having fun and laughing is almost enough to bring me to my knees.