Free Maxwell's Smile by Michele Hauf

that moment she had just talked about.
    His face was shadowed and she couldn’t see his expression, so she closed her eyes and fell into a blissful moment of lingering. His breath fanned over her hair and ear. He smelled like fresh-cut wood and spicy aftershave. The touch of him was slow and sure, knowing, or rather, learning. A soft breeze tickled her wrist as grass blades swept her skin. Somewhere from the depths of a nearby flower bed a cricket’s chirp punctuated the air.
    Rachel sensed the kiss before his lips touched hers, and her heart opened wide to clasp the lingering moment with Sam Jones.
    Suddenly Sam’s attention was diverted. “Well, look at that. Do you see?”
    She turned onto her side and spied the bobbling light he pointed out.
    “Maxwell!” Sam called toward the upstairs window. “He’s got to see this.”
    “What?” The reply floated down to them.
    “Get your new bug stuff and come out here,” Sam said. “There’s something magical you need to see.”
    “Be right there!”
    “Thank you.” Rachel traced her finger along Sam’s jaw, then kissed him quickly. “You’re so kind to him. He looks up to you.”
    “He’s an easy kid to fall in love with. And his mom is pretty.” Sam gave her a kiss back, a longer one, until Maxwell exploded out the patio door, equipment in hand.
    “Quiet.” Sam raised a finger to his lips. “Stealth is required.”
    Maxwell instantly stilled, then crept in a comical crouch toward the blanket. “You two were kissing, weren’t you?”
    Sam and Rachel exchanged stunned looks, but before either could formulate a response, Maxwell’s laughter bubbled through the air.
    “You see?” she said.
    Sam nodded. “Definitely number two. And I have to agree with lingering as number one.”
    Rachel tugged her son between them and then pointed out the lights near the shrubs.
    “Fireflies?” Maxwell asked.
    “Yep,” Sam replied. “And if you’re sneaky, you can nab one in your bug catcher and have a good look at it. You sneaky, buddy?”
    “I’m not sure.”
    “Oh, you are,” Rachel said, with a tickle to Maxwell’s ribs. “I’m pretty sure the cookies in the jar on top of the fridge aren’t disappearing into the ether.”
    He shrugged. “I take only one a day.”
    “I know, sweetie. That’s why I keep refilling it for you.” She kissed him on the head, then patted him on the behind to launch his stealth attack.
    As they watched Maxwell creep toward the fireflies, Sam threaded his fingers through Rachel’s.
    “I did it!”
    The firefly inside the plastic bug catcher lit up the container like a lantern. Maxwell insinuated himself between Sam and Rachel, and the threesome peered in wonder at the insect and laughed until their bellies ached.

Chapter Nine
     
    Rachel drove the VW toward the church. It was early Saturday morning, and both she and Maxwell were jittery with excitement. He clutched his signs on the passenger seat and babbled on about how he couldn’t wait to send boxes of DVDs to Kid Flicks. And then he wanted to bring a box straight to the hospital, on behalf of the charity, so he could talk to some of the kids.
    “What do you think about this, Mom?” He pulled out a poster and showed it to her as they stopped for a light. “Think Sam will be okay with it?”
    The sign declared that the drive was dedicated to Jeff Jones, who’d passed from leukemia a year ago. Rachel felt her lip quiver and tears well in her eyes. “Oh, Maxwell, I think…” she hoped “…Sam will be honored by your thoughtfulness.”
    * * *
     
    Five minutes before the event was scheduled to open, Rachel received a phone call from Sam. He said he was sorry for being late, but had decided at the last minute to stop by a store and pick up bottled water to give away along with the cookies she’d baked and the lemonade Maxwell had convinced the church volunteers to provide. Sam was worried Maxwell would be disappointed he was late, but she reassured him her son was