I adjusted my steps to the rhythm of the wheels.
I looked down at Grandpa at one point, and he was already looking up at me. His expression was the one he’d had my whole life: a little proud, a little amused, and completely steady.
When the song ended, the applause started slowly and built until it was the loudest thing in the room.
***
We came out through the gym doors into the cool night air, just the two of us, the noise fading behind us. The parking lot was quiet under the starry sky.
I pushed Grandpa’s wheelchair slowly across the asphalt while neither of us said anything for a while, because some moments don’t need words right away.
It was the loudest thing in the room.
Then Grandpa reached back and squeezed my hand. “Told you, dear!”
I laughed. “You did.”
“Most handsome date there.”
“And the best one I could ever ask for!”
Grandpa patted my hand once as I pushed him toward the car under all those stars. I thought about a night 17 years ago when a 67-year-old man walked back into the smoke and came out carrying a baby.
Everything good in my life had grown from that one act of love.
Grandpa didn’t just carry me out of the fire that night. He carried me all the way here.
And he promised me the most handsome date at prom. He was also the bravest.
He carried me all the way here.
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