Someone You Love by Kristen Granata

Bryce

“This is so fun.”

I smile watching Charly’s eyes bounce from vendor to vendor. Every year towards the end of the summer, Bar Harbor locals throw a festival. I haven’t attended since Mom and Dad were alive, but I knew I’d be here this time because of Charly.

I woke up this morning feeling more achy than usual, so I opted to take my wheelchair instead of trying to push through the crowd with my cane when I’m not feeling stable on my feet.

“Let’s start on this end, and we’ll work our way around.” Nana adjusts her sunglasses. “We have to take Charly to The Side Street Café for lunch. Their food is to die for. Plus, they have outdoor seating, so we’ll be able to take the pooch.”

Edward looks up at Nana with his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth as he trots beside Charly.

I smirk. “I swear, this dog understands what we’re saying.”

“Of course he does.” Charly leans down and scratches behind his ear. “He’s the smartest dog on the planet.”

“And his gas is the smelliest.” Nana scrunches her nose. “He was flatulating all over the dining room this morning.”

“I think that was Charly.”

Charly gasps, and smacks my arm. “It was not, you liar.”

I bark out a laugh. It feels good to be in town with her, to be a part of this tightknit community. I’ve missed out on a lot over the years—to no fault of my own—and it’s like I have my life back.

Charly helped give me my life back.

Which is why I have to make sure she keeps living hers to the fullest.

Charly points to the crowd gathering in the street. “What’s going on over there?”

“That’s the potato sack race.” Nana shakes her head on a smile. “My Benjamin was the reigning champ for almost a decade.”

I nudge Charly with my elbow. “You should bring the trophy home for us.”

Her eyes widen. “There’s a trophy?”

“Mhmm. It’s the Super Bowl of all potato sack races.”

She hands Edward’s leash to Nana. “Hold my dog, Nana. I’m gonna go win us a trophy.”

We watch as Charly marches over to the announcer at the podium. He tips the brim of his baseball hat, and hands her a tattered burlap bag. The other participants make room for her at the starting line, and she smiles at everyone, making small talk while they wait for the race to start.

I move my chair as close to the barricade as possible. Several people move out of the way, letting me in front of them so I can see the race, while others pretend like I’m not taking up space right beside them.

“Potatoes, take your sacks,” the announcer shouts, as laughter ripples through the crowd. “You know the rules. Stay in your own lane, no cutting each other off or tripping one another. Are you ready?”

Charly and the racers hoot, pumping their fists in the air.

“On your marks. Get set.” His starting pistol fires a shot into the air. “Go!”

Over a dozen potato sacks start hopping across the street.

Nana cups her mouth. “Go, Charly!”

Edward’s eyes dart from left to right, not sure what all the commotion is about.

My eyes are locked on Charly’s blonde hair flapping in the wind as she bounces. Her tongue is between her teeth, and her eyebrows are pinched together in determination. She isn’t last, but she isn’t close to the front of the group.

As everyone rounds the barrel at the farthest point, the racers make their way back to where they started. The crowd’s cheers grow louder, and Nana claps, screeching as Charly passes us. Charly’s eyes dart to mine, and she shoots me a wink.

Then she takes off, pulling ahead of one person, then another, and another, until she’s powering toward the front of the whole damn line.

The man at the front—the owner of the local pizzeria—does a double-take when he catches Charly in his peripheral. She blows past him, taking the lead, and hops all the way to the finish line.

Nana and I roar above everyone else’s cheering, while Edward barks like he knows he should be joining us in our celebration.

I bend down and pat his backside as his tail thrashes from side to side. “Your mama won, Edward. She did it.”

Everyone in the race surrounds Charly to congratulate her, and I snap more pictures when the announcer hands her the trophy.

Nana grips my wrist. “My boy, it makes me so happy to see you smiling like that.”

I keep my eyes on Charly. “It’s impossible not to when she’s around.”

“Have you given any thought to what you want to do after she’s not around?”

My smile fades. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

Nana’s head jerks back. “Of course it matters. Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s not up to me.”

She purses her lips. “She’s just as crazy about you as you are about her.”

“None of that matters, Nana. Maybe at first, but in the long run?” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “This isn’t a life she wants.”

Nana’s eyebrows dip down. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Charly starts making her way back to us, and I shake my head. “Nothing. Forget it.”

“Look at me.” Nana grips my chin, forcing my eyes to hers. “Don’t self-sabotage, Bryce Holden. Do you hear me?”

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“You forget that I know you, my boy. Better than I think you know yourself sometimes.”

I press my lips into a firm line, and shake myself out of her grasp.

Charly tilts her head as she approaches, her green eyes bouncing between me and Nana. “Hey. Everything okay?”

I nod. “First place. Only you would win the race on your first time here.”

“You’re not the only one who can bring home a trophy. And mine is way cooler.” She holds up her gold-plated, potato-shaped prize. “Don’t be jealous. I know you want this bad boy.”

Nana takes Edward’s leash from my grasp, and walks ahead of us.

Charly lowers her voice. “What happened?”

“We were just having a disagreement. Nothing to worry about. Let’s go check out that tent. We need to get you some Bar Harbor souvenirs.”

Charly nods, rolling her lips between her teeth, and she doesn’t press me for more. We head to the next vendor where she picks out a few things for Jenny and Santiago, and then continue down the street.

“Oh, look! It’s Freddie from dance class.” Charly lifts her hand to wave. “Hey, Freddie.”

Freddie’s wrinkled face beams when he turns to look over his shoulder. “Hiya, kid. Fancy meeting you here.”

She smiles as she wraps him in a hug. “Are you enjoying the festival? Who are you here with?”

“My daughter and my grandkids.” He points to a brunette who’s kneeling on the ground trying to reach around her protruding belly to tie her son’s shoe.

Charly rushes over to his daughter. “Here, let me help.”

The woman gives her a sheepish smile. “Thank you. I’m starting to see why the T-Rex was so angry all the time. He couldn’t reach anything.”

Charly throws back her head as she laughs. “I’m a friend of your grandfather’s. We met at the dance studio.”

“You must be Charly.” She extends her hand. “I’m Kylie. It’s so nice to meet you.”

Charly gestures to me and Nana. “This is Beatrice, and her grandson, Bryce. They own the inn I’m staying at for the summer.”

Freddie clasps my hand. “This young man stole my lovely dance partner. He’s lucky he makes her light up like a Christmas tree, otherwise I’d have something to say about it.”

I chuckle. “I’m sorry about that. I’m sure you’d have done the same if someone else was dancing with your wife.”

“You bet your ass I would’ve.” Freddie turns to Nana. “Forgive me for my language.”

Nana waves a dismissive hand. “Please. My husband cursed like a sailor back in his day.”

“Ah.” Freddie nods. “Sounds like we would’ve gotten along swimmingly.”

Charly holds out her hand as she stands, and helps the little boy to his feet. “And what’s your name?”

“Thomas,” he says with a lisp through missing teeth. “You’re pretty.”

Charly grins. “Thank you, Thomas. Are you excited to be a big brother?”

He wrinkles his nose. “I don’t like babies. They cry a lot.”

“They do.” Charly shrugs. “But they need a lot of help. They need someone to show them the rules. I bet you can do that.”

He nods like a bobblehead doll, eyes wide. “I know all the rules.”

Kylie’s husband walks up balancing a melting ice cream cone, a bag of caramel popcorn, and two water bottles. She introduces him to us, and takes a water bottle for herself.

Thomas runs to him. “Daddy, let’s go to the dunk tank! I want to dunk you.”

He hoists Thomas onto his shoulders, and his chocolate ice cream drips onto his forehead. “Good. I’ll need to get dunked to wash this ice cream out of my hair.”

Kylie shakes her head. “It was so nice meeting all of you. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

Freddie takes Nana’s hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you. I hope we see each other again sometime soon.”

“Come by the inn any time for a home-cooked meal.”

Charly and I exchange glances. She waggles her eyebrows at me, and I scrunch my face in disgust. “I don’t want to think about my grandmother going on a date.”

She snorts before leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss to my lips. “I think it’s adorable. No one should be alone, no matter how old they are.”

What about me?

We play a few of the carnival games, and when lunchtime rolls around, we head to the café. The entrance is at the top of five wooden stairs, the restaurant raised on a small deck with tables and chairs lined around the outside. I scan the storefront for a ramp, but there isn’t one.

Nana frowns. “Well, this won’t work.”

“It’s fine. I can walk up the stairs, and leave my wheelchair on the side.”

Nana clicks her tongue. “Nonsense. What if you couldn’t walk up the stairs? They should have handicapped access.”

“I said it’s fine, Nana.”

“Forget it.” She crosses her arms over her chest, lifting her chin. “Let’s eat somewhere else.”

The hostess moves around the podium, and greets us with a smile. “Hi, folks. Will you be dining with us today?”

Before I can open my mouth, Nana answers. “We were thinking about dining with you, but my grandson is in a wheelchair. How do you suppose we get up these stairs?”

The girl’s smile fades as her eyes flick to my chair, and back to Nana. “Oh, I’m sorry. We—”

“You should be sorry,” Nana says. “This isn’t right. You’re excluding people from your establishment.”

“Nana, enough.” My voice comes out harsher than I’d planned, but she’s causing a scene and it’s only making things worse for me.

Charly places her hand on my forearm. “Bryce, what would you like to do?”

I clamp my jaw. “I will leave my chair out front, and we can sit at one of these outside tables.”

The hostess gives me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, sir. I can seat you close by.”

“Thank you.” I push out of my chair, and roll it to the side of the stairs.

So much for a nice, normal day.

After we get back from the festival, Charly heads into the kitchen to get started on dinner.

Nana hangs back, and pulls me into the hallway. “I’d like to finish our conversation from earlier.”

I scrub my hand over my jaw. “There’s nothing to finish.”

“Yes, there is. I’m sorry I upset you at the café. I was just trying to help.”

“Your help means treating me like I can’t make my own decisions. I told you I’d be fine walking up the stairs, but you had to make a production out of it. And what did you expect the hostess to do? It’s not her fault they didn’t have a ramp there.” I shake my head. “You never listen to me. I don’t need you to speak up for me. I’m not helpless.”

Nana places a hand over her heart. “I want to advocate for you. Is that so wrong?”

“You can advocate for me by supporting me in my own decisions, by asking me what I need. But you don’t. You just assume you know what’s best for me when you have no idea.”

Nana lowers her gaze. “I didn’t realize you felt that way.”

“You don’t realize because you don’t understand what it feels like to be me. Just like you don’t understand what I’m feeling when it comes to Charly.”

“So help me understand, Bryce.” Nana edges closer. “Talk to me.”

“Did you notice the woman who ran to her boyfriend today, and jumped into his arms?” I hold up each finger while rattling off the observations I made at the festival earlier. “Or when Kylie’s husband lifted his son, and sat him on his shoulders? How about the teenagers who raced each other to the dunk tank?” My breaths are clipped, the mounting anger and frustration climbing up my throat like caged animals who’ve been set loose. “No, I bet you didn’t. I did though. I notice everything. And normally, it doesn’t bother me. I’ve accepted the changes I’ve had to make in my life since I became disabled. I know it doesn’t make me any less of a human. My injury only affects me. But with Charly, it affects her too. The things I can’t do, the things she wants out of a boyfriend, or a husband, or shit, a father?” I shake my head. “I can’t give those things to her. And one day, she’ll realize that. She’ll realize it like everyone else did, and she’ll leave like everyone else did. So, I’m going to make it easy for her.”

Nana tilts her head, lips parted. “Oh, Bryce. You can’t punish her for the things people have done in your past.”

“I’m not punishing her. I’m sparing her.”

Nana swipes a tear from her cheek. “Don’t you see? The person who loves you will love you regardless of the things you can and can’t do. Charly doesn’t need someone to lift her into the air; she needs someone to lift her spirit. She doesn’t need someone to run with her; she needs someone who will sit beside her and hold her when times get tough. It’s not about the physical things, my boy. It’s about the things no one else can give her but you.” Another tear falls. “You’re comparing her to Ariel. Do you think that’s fair? Is Charly anything like Ariel?”

I look away, focusing on the picture of my parents hanging at the end of the hall. I know she isn’t like Ariel, but how will I know her feelings won’t change? How do I know she’ll still want to be with me over time?

“The worst thing you can do in life is make a decision from a place of fear. Your insecurities are just that—don’t let them rule you. Some people are going to hurt you. That’s the way life goes. Not everyone is meant to stay. But there are a few special ones who imprint themselves on your heart forever. And those are the people worth fighting for.” Nana clasps my hand, and squeezes it hard. “That sweet girl is worth the fight. You are worth the fight.”

Emotions strangle my airways, and blur my vision. My legs move before I tell them to, my body’s flight response telling me to get away. Away from the truth, away from the all-knowing eyes of my grandmother.

Before I reach the end of the hallway, Nana tosses out one last pearl of wisdom. “I love you, my boy. And so does she. Maybe it’s time you figure out how to let some of that love in.”