An Ounce of Hope(8)

"I took the liberty of setting an easel up for you," Tate said, leading Max over to a large tripod. "My question for you is, do you want a canvas, or are you starting smaller?"

Max considered his question. He'd never really painted on anything other than brick, concrete, or metal. "Canvas," he replied. "Go big or go home, right?"

Tate slapped his hand against Max's shoulder. "Outstanding."

Set up with his canvas and choice of acrylics, Max perched on a roller stool and thought about what he wanted to say, what he wanted to show. Elliot had told him to express himself, but where the fuck was he supposed to start? The past couple of years had all but drained what inspiration he had dry. The other two guys in the room were busy painting and sketching like lunatics. Max sat for twenty minutes, doing nothing, before Tate approached.

"Okay?" he asked, leaning on his cane. Max shrugged and sipped from his bottle of water. "Tell me, Max, when you used to paint, where were you, who were you with?"

Max's hands found his hair. "In the city or in the body shop with my best friend or my dad."

"Did you have a routine?"

Max's eyebrows met above his nose. "A what?"

Tate lifted his shoulders. "I don't know, like, did you have a particular shirt you wore when you painted, boots, gloves, a particular brush, or product, any music?"

A lightbulb illuminated Max's memories. "My dad always played rock music in the shop, or I had my iPod."

Tate smiled. "Wait there." He limped off quickly, leaving Max perplexed, and returned with an iPod in his hand, out of which hung a pair of white earbuds. "My taste in music probably isn't what you would call rock," Tate admitted. "That's more my brother's style, but if you give me some bands I could put a playlist together for you." He held out the iPod. "Take it. Have a listen, maybe it'll jog something."

Max took the iPod, staring at Tate, as pieces of a jigsaw fell slowly into place in the back of his mind. "Moore," he whispered, once again observing Tate's height, bulk, and familiar smile. He stood quickly. "I'll be goddamned. You're Riley's brother, the doctor, the war hero!"

Tate's cheeks pinked. "I think hero is a bit of a stretch. I prefer black sheep, but, yeah, Riley's my brother. Unless he owes you money and then I'll contest all knowledge and connections."

Max laughed. "Fuck, man." He held out his palm, shaking Tate's hand again. "We never met, you were always away, but I heard a lot about you from Riley. You were in medical school, then Iraq, right?" He glanced at the cane.

"And Afghanistan."

"Wow. Thanks for that, man. I've known Riley nearly ten years. He's babysitting my shop while I'm here. I really don't know what I'd have done without his help, and-"

Tate's smile was all-knowing.

Max pulled his hand back. "But you knew that already."

"Of course. I always research my clients."

"You do?" Max asked dubiously.

"Yeah." Tate looked toward the ceiling. "Plus I called Riley and asked. He said your shop is doing just fine, by the way."

Max chuckled and sat down. "I'm sure there's a rule somewhere about patient confidentiality that you've just admitted to breaking."




 

 

Tate waved a flippant hand. "Pfft, patient confidentiality's not even a thing anymore."

Max laughed again. Yeah, he was definitely Riley's brother. He held the iPod tightly. "Thanks for this."

Tate nodded. "My pleasure."





Grace Brooks cursed her brother up and down for being so freaking tall.

Seriously, the man was a mountain. And it wasn't because she was bitter being an above-average five foot six; it was because she was struggling to keep her gloved hands over his eyes as she led him down a snow-covered dirt driveway toward the surprise she'd kept secret for nearly a month and a half.

"Look, you made me drive you all the way out here to see whatever it is you want me to see and-" He stumbled. "Are we nearly there?" Kai asked, his posture clearly giving him a hard time. And it wasn't any wonder. He was almost bending completely backward to accommodate his sister's lack of height.

"Yep," Grace replied, pulling to a stop. "Okay. One. Two. Three." She pulled her hands away from Kai's eyes and opened her arms wide. "Ta-da!"

She watched Kai stand to his full height, adjusting the gray scarf around his neck. His dark chocolate eyes narrowed slowly as he took in the two-story house sitting back from the drive, surrounded by dense forest. His silence and the pinch of his mouth made Grace shift from one foot to the other.

"Well," Grace said encouragingly. "Isn't it great?"