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“Oh, shit. Good call, Greta.” Steve tips back his chair again. “Football star has a girlfriend?”
I scrub my hand over my jaw. “Had.”
Pete smirks. “What did you do, Holden?”
“I met a beautiful woman at the inn this summer. She had this bucket list, and I helped her complete it. We had a lot of fun together.” A faint smile tips my lips before it fades. “But when things started to get more serious, I panicked. I told myself I couldn’t be who she needed me to be, and I pushed her away. I convinced myself that I couldn’t see myself being a part of her life.”
“Why not?” Greta asks. “Sorry for eavesdropping, but it’s too late because I’m invested in this story now.”
“She wants to do things, like go sky diving, and take a trip to Hawaii. Maybe she’ll want a family one day.”
She arches an eyebrow. “And why can’t she do all of those things while being with you?”
“She deserves to be happy. She deserves—”
“Did you make her happy this summer?”
“I did, but—”
“But nothing.” Greta shakes her head. “You found someone who makes you happy, and you make her happy in return. That’s the golden ticket.”
“Making her happy for a summer, and keeping her happy for a lifetime is a big difference.”
Steve laughs. “Dude, that’s the challenge for everyone, not just disabled people. My parents got divorced, and they were both able-bodied. Shit happens.”
Harold presses a button on his armrest, and rolls his chair closer until he’s facing me. “Do you want a family?”
“I ... I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do know. Close your eyes, and forget about your injury. Forget about the cane, forget about the wheelchair. Forget about the what-ifs, and the fear. And forget about the girl. Just focus on you. On your life, and what you want out of it.”
I let my lids close, and I try to do as Harold instructs me to.
“Now, can you see yourself raising children? Can you see yourself loving a child, and doing whatever it takes to give that child the best life you possibly can?”
Visions of my father flicker through my mind like an old-fashioned reel. And for once, they’re not the memories of the things we did—not the physical activities. I’m soothed by the feeling of his love. The way he’d smile at me when I came into the room. The warmth of his hand around mine when I’d reach out for it. The words of wisdom he’d share when I needed help in school. Not one of those memories required the use of his legs. None of those things would’ve been any different had he been in a wheelchair when I was growing up. All that mattered was that my father loved me, and that he was there when I needed him.
Immediately, my mind drifts to Charly. Her father stood up on two capable legs, and walked out of her life. She never knew the kind of love my father gave to me, and it wasn’t because he had a disability.
“Yes.” My throat tightens as I open my eyes. “I can see myself as a father.”
“That’s the key. If you want it, and you can envision yourself doing it, then nothing can stop you.” Harold’s lips wobble as his eyes skate around the group. “Beth is pregnant.”
We erupt in cheers.
I lean down and wrap my arms around Harold’s shoulders. “I’m so happy for you.”
A muffled sob escapes him. “Thank you. We’ve been trying for so long.”
“I know you have.”
Steve claps him on the back next, and I catch him wipe a tear from the corner of his eye. “Congrats, man. That’s fantastic news.”
“Do you look at me in this chair,” Harold dips his head, gesturing to his body, “and think I won’t make a good father? Do you think I won’t love my son or daughter with all I have because I can’t lift my right arm, or move my legs?”
I give my head a furious shake. “No. I don’t think that.”
“It’s about what’s in your heart, Bryce. Your physical abilities aren’t what make you worthy of love. If that girl loves you, then she already thinks you’re worthy of it. Now you just need to believe it yourself.”
