“I’m not sure I’m much of a date anymore.”
I crouched beside him.
“You carried me out of a burning house.”
He looked at me.
“You raised me.”
I squeezed his hand.
“I think you’ve earned one dance.”
His eyes filled with tears.
Then he smiled.
“I suppose I should find a good suit.”
On prom night, I wore a deep blue dress.
Grandpa wore a navy suit with a matching pocket square.
I pushed his wheelchair through the gym doors.
For a moment, nobody said anything.
Then the whispers began.
Some people smiled.
Others stared.
And then Amber appeared.
She walked over with two friends beside her.
Her eyes traveled from my dress to Grandpa’s wheelchair.
Then she smiled.
“Well,” she said loudly, “did the nursing home lose a patient?”
A few people laughed nervously.
Amber continued.
“Prom is for dates, Macy. Not charity cases.”
The laughter stopped.
