I notice the table is shaking a little, and on instinct, I move my hand to reach for Max’s leg, but I stop short when I realize it’s not his that’s bouncing up and down—it’s Mason’s.

“You getting ready for a sprint race?” I say, nodding my head toward his leg. He looks down at it and smiles tightly, shifting his feet to cross them at the ankles.

“I…I uh, gotta talk to you,” he says, keeping his voice low and leaning over closely to me. What he says has my mind racing a million miles a minute, backtracking on last night, and already diving into the deep end of heartbreak.

“Okay,” I say, forcing my voice to be strong rather than break out in tears. I step outside and Mason follows; I fight against my instinct to turn around and slap him immediately.

“I wanted to talk to you about this last night, but well, we didn’t really talk,” he says, his mouth pulled up into a half smile, throwing me a little.

“Mason, what is this about?” I can’t help the way that comes out, and I can tell he hears the suspicion in my voice.

“Oh god, Avery. No,” he laughs a little, coming over to reach for my hand. I give it to him, reluctantly. “I need to talk about Max.”

In one moment, I’m relieved, but in the next, I’m full of worry. “What about Max? What happened?” I say, my body moving to head back inside to my son.

“He’s fine. No…no, he’s fine,” Mason says, laughing lightly and pulling me back to him. “It’s just…I did something. And I probably should have talked to you first, but I was there, at his school, and it all just came out sort of fast, and I had to do something.”

I’m sure the face I’m making still reads panic, because Mason takes a deep breath and apologizes again. “Let me start over,” he smiles. “I drove by the school, and I saw Max, sort of hiding out alone. It hit me, and I know it’s not my place, but I stopped in and talked to his teacher during the recess. She said he’s having a hard time making friends, which I know…is part of his challenges. But, I just wanted to help. So, I’m coming in today, to be his sort of, I don’t know…show and tell?”

Listening to this has me grinning so hard it’s actually hurting my jaw. I am so overwhelmed by Mason’s love for Max it has me wanting to cry. This moment, on top of the hour of sleep I got, has me incredibly emotional. “That’s…amazing, Mason,” I say, just hugging him to let him know I approve.

“You’re sure? I mean…I didn’t mean to overstep my bounds. I know Max isn’t expecting it, so…I’m not sure what I do here,” he lets his shoulders slump with a deep breath. Max does like order, but things like this can be managed, and while I may not be able to help Max make friends instantly, I can help him be okay with bringing one to school for the day.

“I got this part,” I say, smiling at him. “What time are you coming in?”

“His teacher said nine,” he says, his hands in his pockets of his baggy jeans.

“Okay, let me take the lead on this,” I say, tugging at his arm, and urging him to follow me back inside. Max is just finishing breakfast, and my dad seems to have covered mine with a napkin. He pulls it off when I come back inside, never once taking his eyes off his newspaper.

“It was getting cold,” he says, clearly annoyed that Mason and I are messing around with his routine. Like Max, my dad likes things a certain way, too—but I think that’s just because he likes to be the boss.

“Hey, Max? I need to talk to you about something. Can you look at me for just a few seconds?” I say, taking one small bite of my bacon, and wiping my hand on the napkin. Max looks in my direction, but not in my eyes—close enough. “Your teacher called last night while you were sleeping. She wanted to let you know that there was a change for today. You’re supposed to bring a guest to school, just for a little bit, and she asked if it could be Mason. He’s going to come in at nine.”

Max twists his lips and looks away, not comfortable with something being different. “Why are we having a change? Thursdays are for centers. I get to do the planet center,” he says, his legs swinging a little in his seat.

“Yes, and that will all be the same. This is just one small thing she’s adding to the day,” I say, and his legs slow just a little. I look at Mason, and urge him to join the conversation.

“Max, the teacher wanted me to talk about music. But, she also wanted you to show the program you’ve been working on,” Mason says, looking at me for approval. I nod for him to keep going. “I won’t be there long, but I’m going to need your help.”