Page 18 of Maxwell

He nodded and wheeled the supplies to the front of the room.

Jasmine hung near the door with her phone still in hand and her stomach in knots. She had no idea what Maxwell had been doing the past ten minutes, but she half expected him to blow it.

She watched him crouch in front of a little girl with beads at the end of her braids. She looked to be about ten years old.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Aaliyah,” the girl answered, her voice barely audible.

“Aaliyah, I need an assistant. Are you interested?”

“What do I have to do?” she asked, sounding suspicious. Typical tween.

“Help me check heart rates, hand out papers, and other very important stuff. Pays in high fives.”

She grinned. “Okay, I’ll help you.”

“Perfect!” Maxwell hopped to his feet. “Okay, as I was saying before Ms. Roberson arrived, cardio exercise is not only great for weight loss, it also gets the heart pumping, which increases oxygen delivery to the cells.” He walked back and forth as he talked, his voice loud and energetic. “Examples of cardio are brisk walking and running. How many of you have bikes?” A third of the kids raised their hands. “Riding your bike around the neighborhood is cardio. Did you know that was exercise?”

Some of them nodded, some shook their heads.

“Well, it is. Exercise can be fun. Know what else is exercise and good for you? Swimming, dancing, and jumping jacks. All of those are cardio. Now, I’m going to do thirty seconds of jumping jacks, and my assistant Aaliyah will time me. I hope I remember how to do them.”

After handing Aaliyah his watch and showing her how to use the built-in timer, Maxwell began the exercise. He intentionally did badly, flailing and moving off-rhythm, making the room erupt in laughter. Even the irritated father from earlier, who was standing at the back of the room, was smiling. Jasmine smiled, too, as she watched him.

Finally, Maxwell got the exercise right and did jumping jacks for thirty seconds while Aaliyah kept her eyes on the watch in her hand. When she called time, he said, “Thank you, ma’am,” and held up his hand. She gave him an enthusiastic high-five.

“My heart is really going right now. Now it’s your turn. Everybody, on your feet. Come on. You too,” Maxwell said, pointing at a reluctant boy. “Jumping jacks for thirty seconds. Let’s get those hearts pumping and sending oxygen to our cells!”

Chaos and giggles erupted as thirty-three kids, ranging in age from nine to twelve, jumped around the community room. As they jumped, he slipped in content about the importance of their heart rate going up.

When they finished, he yelled, “One more time!”

Groaning and giggling filled the room, but the kids started again. This time, Maxwell circled the perimeter and counted down the last five seconds like a game show host.

The workshop continued in the same vein. Maxwell used two more kids as volunteers as he pulled the room into physical activity—some of the parents joining in—while explaining the importance of regular exercise. He did all this without sounding as if he was lecturing them.

He talked about nutrition, pointing out the healthy snacks and asking the kids about other examples of healthy snacks they could incorporate into their diets.

At one point he caught Jasmine’s eye across the room, and her chest tightened. She realized she had stopped checking her phone and had completely forgotten about the fiasco that could have unraveled all her hard work.

When the phone vibrated in her hand, she stepped out of the room. It was Dr. Park.

“Jasmine, I’m so sorry! I had my phone on Do Not Disturb because I was working on an article earlier. I forgot to turn it off when I left the house, and I’m stuck on 285. An 18-wheeler overturned and spilled building supplies across multiple lanes. It’s a mess, and there’s no way to get off the highway and⁠—”

“It’s okay.” Jasmine cut off the rush of words. “We’re fine.” She looked back into the room. Maxwell’s volunteers were circulating with laminated sheets showing examples of the main food groups. “When you have a chance, head home. Dr. Santana took over the workshop and is doing a good job.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Dr. Park said with immense relief. “I promise I’ll make it up to you—both of you. Please let Dr. Santana know how much I appreciate him filling in for me.”

“I will,” Jasmine promised.

She stepped back into the room. Her presence wasn’t needed during the workshop. She had work to do, and Maxwell clearly had everything under control. He was... impressive, she had to admit. Engaging, funny, and knowledgeable. He didn’t seem to be pretending. She suspected he was enjoying himself.

His performance was on another level, and now she understood why her father had insisted he’d have a good bedside manner with their patients.

So she stayed. Watching. Though she didn’t need to.

Chapter Eight