He felt the weight of her body and her pain. He guided her to the row of seats behind them, and they both sat down. “Take a deep breath,” he directed, and then he did the same. “One more,” he directed, and he exhaled along with her. “Now, tell me what happened.”
“Tyree was riding his bike on the sidewalk. I was sitting in the yard, watching him. A drunk driver flying through the neighborhood drove onto the sidewalk and hit my baby.” Her swollen eyelids fluttered. The red lines that streaked across the whites of her eyes were clouded by another downpour of tears. “I saw it happen. I watched that man hit my child, and there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t get to him in time.”
With a clenched fist, Maxwell punched his thigh twice. “A drunk driver.” He bit down hard on his bottom lip as his gaze rose toward the ceiling. “How bad is it?”
“There is a lot of internal bleeding. He has a broken leg and a collapsed lung. The doctors are concerned about the bleeding in his brain.” Christine pressed her nails into Maxwell’s hand. “I can’t believe this. It’s too much. It’s just too much.” Her head dropped onto his shoulder.
He stood up, holding on to her and forcing her to stand with him. “Where is he now?”
“Upstairs. They’re doing a CAT scan before taking him into surgery.” She dabbed the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Oh, and I finally got ahold of Mom and Dad. They are on their way.”
In that moment, Maxwell didn’t care about his issue with their parents. Nothing was more important than Tyree, nothing. “Let’s get upstairs and see about my little man.”
The elevator ride was quiet, with the exception of Christine’s muffled whimpers. When the doors opened, Maxwell and Christine stepped off the elevator and walked down the hallway, their steps in sync. They stopped at the nurses’ station for an update. The surgery was about to begin. There was nothing they could do but wait. They headed to the waiting room, moved past several people, and found seats across the room, in front of a large window. Christine slumped down into a chair. Maxwell trekked from the seats to the window and back again. Those had better be the best doctors Wilmington Hospital had to offer, or they’d be dealing with a highly motivated attorney, the kind they’d never encountered previously. Nothing could go wrong with the surgery. He halted his steps in front of his sister.
“Who is the doctor performing the surgery? I assume he’s a brain trauma specialist.”
Christine lifted her head, and tears streamed down both cheeks. Emotion choked her words. Then she croaked out, “I don’t know. Oh my God. What if he’s not a specialist? Is Tyree going to be all right?” Her hand flew up to her mouth as she gasped.
Her brother slipped his hand in hers and latched on with a viselike grip. “Don’t you worry. Anything he needs, I’ll make sure Tyree has it. A specialist, a different hospital, anything . . . It doesn’t matter.”
Christine clutched his hand and nodded her head. “I know you will, and I can’t thank you enough. That little boy is crazy about his uncle Max, and you’ve always loved him. Even though you weren’t around a lot, I know how much you love him.” She rose slowly from her seat and threaded her arms around Maxwell’s neck. She held her embrace for a few moments and then released her hold on him. “Excuse me for a few minutes. I need to go to the ladies’ room.”
He paced to the window and glanced down at the people scurrying through the parking lot and along the sidewalk. The phone on his hip rang out loudly. He yanked it from his belt and pushed it to his ear.
“Just wanted you to know the deed is done. He didn’t take the bait. We can meet, and I’ll give you the details about this project and the stalker situation.”
“Garrett, I can’t deal with either right now. My nephew is in the hospital. I’ve got to give him my full attention.”
“Oh, man. Sure, sure. Do what you have to. I’ll get the package returned to sender, and we can close that chapter. Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”
“I’ll catch up with you when I can.”
Maxwell ended that call and made one to his office. When his assistant was on the line, he spoke rapidly. “Cancel everything for me today. My nephew was hit by a drunk driver, and I’m in Delaware.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that. I hope he’ll be all right.”
“Me too,” Maxwell echoed.
“Do you have any idea how long you’ll be gone?”
“As long as it takes. For now, I’m out for the rest of today and tomorrow for sure. I’ll give you a call later to let you know if it’s going to be longer.”
His assistant offered more kind words before they concluded the call.
Maxwell was done with work for now. He silenced the ringer on his phone and let his energy be spent on positive thoughts for Tyree. He needed the surgery to be over, and he desperately needed to hear that the prognosis was favorable. If he didn’t like what he heard, he’d fly in the best doctor from anywhere in the world. Cost wasn’t a factor. His millions had no value if they couldn’t be used to save the one person on earth he loved the most.
Chapter 52
The hospital waiting room, a makeshift home, had remained occupied by the Montgomery family on and off for several days. Ethel paced the room and periodically slipped into the restroom to pray. When she returned this last time, Christine handed her a phone.
“Who is it?” Ethel asked, not appearing very pleased.
“It’s Auntie. She wants to talk to you.”
Ethel took the phone. “I appreciate you calling. Tyree had another seizure, so we can sure use your prayers. I’ll talk to you later.” Ethel shoved the phone into Christine’s hand. “Take this thing. All that chirping and buzzing in my ear while I was trying to talk was so annoying.”
“That’s why I’m getting you a cell phone for Christmas. I want to watch you try to figure out how it works,” Paul Sr. told his wife and chuckled. Christine and Ethel snickered along with him.
Maxwell had claimed a corner of a two-seat sofa. His arms were folded across his body, and his chin was pinned to his chest. If he kept his eyes closed, they’d think he was asleep. He wouldn’t have to interact with anyone. He heard his dad grunt and announce that he was thirsty.
“I’m going on a coffee run. I’ll be right back,” Paul Sr. informed them.
Christine tagged along with him.
Good. He was leaving the room right on time. Maxwell could get some fresh air and not have to walk past his dad to leave the room. He performed a fake stretch, arms and legs elongated, as if he had just awakened.
“You’re up?” his mother said. “Do you want coffee? Your dad went to grab some.”
He didn’t want anything from that man. “I’m going to step outside for a minute.”
“You’re not leaving, are you?” Ethel laced her fingers together and wiggled them back and forth.
“No. I just need some fresh air. I’m going back to the same stores I went to yesterday to pick up another change of clothes and a razor.” The complimentary razor provided by the hotel didn’t provide the kind of close shave that Maxwell sought. “Tyree won’t know me with a forest growing from my face.”
“I’m so glad you’re here.” Ethel cradled his face between her hands. “You’re a handsome man with or without a scraggly beard.”
Her touch was unsettling. He had to get out of there. That mushy, emotional stuff felt like a suit that was too tight. He stood and quickly left the waiting room. Maxwell was halfway down the hallway and turning the corner when he saw his self-appointed adversary, Pastor Harris, approaching. Before a syllable could escape Maxwell’s mouth, the pastor shoved his hand at Maxwell and gave him a firm handshake.
“What are you doing here?”
“I called your office to set up an appointment. Your assistant told me you might be out for a while due to your nephew’s accident.”
“And you decided to come down here?”
“Of course. I’m a pastor. That’s what I do. I help people when they’r
e in need.”
“But y–you know we have a . . . ,” Maxwell stammered. “Well, a situation between us.”
Pastor Harris spoke boldly. “Like I told you before, my calling goes way beyond our differences. I’m here as a man of God who wants to support your family in any way that I can, if you’ll let me.”
Maxwell cleared his throat and tugged at the skin on his neck after he swallowed down his slice of humble pie. He had to acknowledge the pastor’s presence. He didn’t want to, but the man had driven forty-five minutes to an hour from Philadelphia to Wilmington. The pastor didn’t have to go out of his way. Yet he had. Maxwell was stunned. Why should he care anything about a little boy he didn’t know?
“I appreciate you coming down here,” Maxwell said. “My family is in the waiting room.” They headed that way.
“How is your nephew doing?” Pastor Harris asked as they approached the waiting room.
“He’s had several seizures over the past couple of days. It doesn’t look good. I wish there was more we could do.” Maxwell’s volume dipped. “I’m accustomed to being in control. I guess it’s difficult for me when I’m not.”
“We all have our moments, but know that God is always in charge, whether we believe it or not.”
Maxwell wasn’t going to argue religion. He wasn’t in a state of mind to argue with anyone.
Ethel eased up close to them as they entered the waiting room. “Pastor Harris, it’s good to see you again.” She took the pastor’s hand. “I appreciate you coming to pray for my husband last year.”
“My pleasure, Mrs. Montgomery.”
“I’ve seen you in the newspapers quite a bit lately. I wouldn’t have expected to see you here.” Her eyes darted to Maxwell and then back to the pastor.
“I hope you don’t believe everything you read.”
“I sure don’t.” She patted Maxwell on the shoulder as she glanced up at him. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Paul. I need to talk with you a minute.”
Maxwell glanced at Pastor Harris when his mother called him by his birth name. Not now, he thought. He didn’t want his mother echoing his past in front of the one man who might use it against him.
Ethel and her son stepped away from the pastor. She questioned Maxwell in a whisper. “Why is he here? Aren’t you investigating him?”
Just then Christine and Paul Sr. returned. On their heels, a doctor entered the waiting room, and with him came a sense of dread, which abruptly ended Ethel’s questioning.
“What is it? What’s going on?” Christine demanded.
“We’re rushing Tyree into surgery. He’s bleeding internally again,” Tyree’s doctor informed them. “We have to get that under control and relieve the swelling on his brain. I’ll give you an update as soon as I can.”
“Oh no, not another surgery,” Christine cried out.
“My poor grandbaby.” Ethel’s voice and body shook as she thrust her hands into the air. She grabbed her head and swung it back and forth.
Ethel held her daughter. Fear gripped the room. Christine cried. Paul Sr. went to his wife and daughter, folded them both in his arms, then quickly glanced at Maxwell, his eyes deserting his son in a split second.
A hush fell over the room. Maxwell was frozen in his spot. There was nothing he could do. He had control of nothing, and for him, that was unbearable. His arms felt like cement blocks hanging from his shoulders.
Pastor Harris corralled the fragmented family into a circle. Their differences didn’t matter; nor did their past. Didn’t they realize they needed each other? He understood that all things happened for a reason. This situation, too, had a purpose. Perhaps, due to the very pain the young boy’s accident had brought to his family, a healing would come. “I need everyone to hold hands,” the pastor directed.
Maxwell found himself between Pastor Harris and his dad. How did he end up in such an uncomfortable position? He was humbled, being so far from his comfort zone. He chalked his predicament up to the power of love. It had to be, because Tyree’s well-being was the only reason Maxwell Montgomery willingly stood hand in hand with the two men whom he despised.
Pastor Harris considered each face in front of him, instructed them to close their eyes, and began to pray. “Lord, in this time of crisis, this family needs you. Only you.” He prayed for healing. Pastor Harris clearly understood that the healing they sought was needed for more than Tyree’s injuries. Pastor Harris wasn’t worried. God was able.
Chapter 53
Maxwell tried to adopt a worry-free mindset, but Tyree’s surgery was entering the second hour.
“Pastor Harris, we appreciate you being here,” Christine said. “I don’t know how long my son will be in surgery. They said three to four hours, but you never know.”
“We understand if you have to get back to your church,” Ethel interjected.
Pastor Harris reached over Paul Sr. and touched Ethel’s hand. “I’m exactly where God wants me to be. I’d like to stay until the young man gets out of surgery.”
Maxwell wasn’t as receptive to the pastor’s intervention. He wasn’t opposed to support. It was the kind of support that bugged him. “They’re right. Don’t feel like you have to stay, if you have something else to do. We can handle it here.”
“Speak for you,” Christine said. “Anybody who can pray like he did and get through to God, I want them right here. My son needs a miracle, and I’m not kicking anybody out who can help me get it.”
Maxwell wanted to rebuke her, except she was right. He certainly wasn’t the person to trust in the empty hallelujah jabber of a Bible-thumper, at least not until Tyree went into surgery again. His sister and his parents were scared. He got that, and he wouldn’t squelch the encouragement that Pastor Harris brought to the family. Maxwell sank into his seat. He’d grit his teeth and tolerate a few more hours with Mr. Healing Hands for their sake. The tension in the room hovered, taunting Maxwell to make his exit.
About twenty-three minutes shy of the three-hour mark, Tyree’s doctor entered the waiting room. Maxwell popped up first, followed by Christine and Pastor Harris.
“How’s he doing?” Maxwell asked.
Christine latched on to Maxwell’s arm, shivering heavily. Ethel stood nearby. Paul Sr. kept his seat but inched to the edge.
“The surgery went well. We were able to relieve the pressure and stop the internal bleeding.”
“What does that mean? Is he going to be okay?” Christine asked, her words running out like a high-speed train.
“He’s stable. We’ve done all that we can do medically. Now we’ll have to wait and see.” The doctor gazed at their somber faces. “Let’s hope for the best.”
“Can I see him?” Christine asked.
“He’ll be in recovery for about an hour. Then you can see him. Don’t be alarmed if he stays asleep throughout the day and into the night.”
Christine was in no shape to respond. Maxwell thanked the doctor and consoled his sister as she cried aloud.
Ethel rested her hand on Christine’s back. “Baby, there isn’t much we can do. We have to trust God on this.”
“I know, Mom, but it’s hard,” Christine replied.
Ethel nodded. “I know.”
“She’s right, Christine,” Pastor Harris added. “No matter what this looks like, God is able.”
“Don’t make any promises that God can’t keep,” Maxwell said. He was grieved too and didn’t want his family to be swayed by a fictitious hope in the supernatural. Tyree needed the best medical treatment, not a bunch of fluffy words.
“Paul Jr., stop this foolishness,” his father said so loudly it made everyone turn in his direction. “Whether you agree or not, God is able.”
Maxwell broke the grip his sister had on him. “Or so you say, coming from the man who sold out his family for the church.”
“Stop it,” Ethel shouted and whacked Maxwell on the arm. “You stop this right now. My grandson is fighting for his life. I won’t have you disrespect the name of God
in my presence.”
Christine sniffled.
Ethel went on. “I’ve let you go on and on for years, but it stops here. If you’re going to be in this hospital, with this family, you will respect me, your father, and the man of God standing here—”
“No, Mrs. Montgomery. I’m okay,” Pastor Harris interrupted.
“You’re not. My son has gone too far,” Ethel said, burning a stare into Maxwell that was hard to ignore. “He is using the gift that God gave him to hurt good people, and it has to stop.”
Maxwell was reeling. His natural reaction was to defend his actions. Yet lashing out at his mother while they stood in a surgical waiting room didn’t feel appropriate. He’d have to acquiesce.
Once tempers mellowed and they were seated, Pastor Harris broke the silence. “I hate to leave you, but I must get back to Philadelphia.”
“We understand. You have no idea how grateful we are to have you take the time out of your busy schedule for us. May God bless you,” Ethel said, clasping both her hands around one of his and shaking it intensely.
“I’ll be praying for you,” the pastor said.
Christine and Paul Sr. thanked him.
“Attorney Montgomery, can you please step outside with me?”
Maxwell wasn’t expecting the request. He didn’t have to look at his three family members to know that they were glaring at him. Turning the pastor down wasn’t an option, not with the heat that was sure to come from his family. He’d avoid the disturbance.
“Sure. Why not?”
The men strolled into the hallway and walked down a ways without an utterance. Pastor Harris stopped not too far from the elevator.
“You have a wonderful family, and my heart goes out to them.”
Maxwell pressed his hand against the wall and peered at the floor. This preacher man wasn’t equipped to rate the Montgomery family. “That’s because you don’t know them like I do.”
“That’s true, which is why I can accept them for who they are.”
“Why did you have me come out here?” Maxwell asked, somewhat annoyed.
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