“We didn’t,” he hastened to assure her. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Great. You probably think I’m a jerk, ragging on my autistic brother.”
“No! I think you’re honest and human and . . . and do you know how many times I’ve wanted to haul off and punch my sister? What’s Jamie like?”
Max glanced down at his hand. “Well, he’s got a big heart. He’s an artist, like I told you. Loves dogs—you know that, too. He loves Dad and he gets really anxious when Dad isn’t around. And . . . and I think he loves me, too. The bottom line is that he’s so much more than his disability allows anyone to see.”
He put down his drink and told her about a man who collected oddly shaped rocks, who never missed a day of work, and was obsessed with his clothes. “They have to be pristine,” he said. He told her about Jamie’s paintings, and how unique and interesting they were, a bit like peeking into Jamie’s head. He told her it was just Jamie and his dad, that his mother had died a few years ago from a heart attack. And that he lived close by so he could be there quickly if anything ever happened. He told her how, for the most part, things were good, but that there were times when Jamie couldn’t communicate the way he wanted to and would grow frustrated and act out. “Those times are relatively rare because he has such a steady routine. Jamie seems content to live in his own head and with dogs.”
He told her how he’d been trying to get his father to agree to supervised living for Jamie so that he could be on his own. “I’ve been trying to convince my dad for a couple of years now. Jamie is twenty-seven. With the right setting, he could do it, he could thrive, maybe learn how to navigate the world a bit better—especially if he has a trained dog to help him. And my dad would have some time to himself.”
“Why doesn’t your dad like this idea?” Carly asked. “It sounds amazing to me.”
“I think what he doesn’t like is letting go. He’s protective. But who knows? Like I said, he was out last night, so maybe he’s coming around to it. But, having said that, the weekend at the dog show made me realize that I don’t know what my dad goes through on a daily basis.” Max sighed, rubbed his nape. “I’ve been pretty arrogant about it, I think.”
She smiled. “You’re being too hard on yourself.” She squeezed his arm. “Would you like my expert public relations opinion?”
“I am dying for an expert public relations opinion.”
“It’s hard to see family objectively, at least in my experience. But how wonderful that you took him at all. How wonderful that Jamie has people around him who care as much as you and your father do.”
He smiled gratefully. “Thank you for that. And thank you for listening.” He cast his gaze skyward and laughed. “I can’t believe I just dumped all my problems on a new friend.”
“If that’s all your problems, you’re living a pretty sweet life, my friend.”
“Oh, I’ve got more, trust me. But I think I’ll save them for the next time. What about you? What’s your family like?”
“Super dysfunctional. But I love them.”
“Come on, give me something. I don’t want to be the only one who spent Baxter and Hazel’s second date spilling my guts.”
Carly groaned theatrically. “I don’t know, Max. There’s a huge difference between your family and mine—if I start, I will never get to the end of the story because they are all so extra. Every single one of them. Completely bonkers, the whole lot.”
“Give me an example.”
“Okay, here goes. I have a brother who lives in Dallas and steers clear of us except at mandatory holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas. My sister is very high-strung, always has been, and she’s got three small kids who are all over the place. Her husband travels for work to China every month for about ten days and she’s alone with them and nearly loses her mind each time. Oh, and my parents? Recently divorced after forty years of marriage. My dad has taken up selling time-shares in South Padre. My mother says one of the reasons she divorced him was because he made terrible decisions, like buying into time-shares.