A loving father helps a disabled teen who is depressed about not having a prom date. Everyone is won over by what begins as an act of love. His selflessness is rewarded the following day in a way that permanently changes their lives.
Look, Isla! “Dad is here!”
The remarks broke the silence in the churchyard. Isla, 17, was sobbing as she stood by her mother’s casket. Unsure, she turned slowly.
James, the antagonist her mother had played for years, was there. Her father. When Isla was seven years old, her mother Sandra and James were divorced. Since then, she has only communicated with her father through scathing allegations and court-mandated child support checks.
His hands were calloused and his stubble was gray, making him look older. But there was no change in his eyes. When they met hers, they softened.
“Hey, sweetheart,” James said softly as he walked up to give her an awkward but honest hug. He walked over to the coffin and laid a little wreath on it.
Is that your truck, sir? A somber visitor cut in. “Half of the driveway is blocked.”
James’s dusty truck caught his attention. “I own that. It had been ten years since I last saw my daughter. Now I’ll move it. I appreciate your understanding.
Isla silently listened to the discussion. Despite her mother’s warnings that James was drunk and untrustworthy, he didn’t seem that way. There was no hostility, only a dull ache where a relationship ought to have existed.
Following the burial and the departure of the visitors, James assisted Isla in moving her belongings into his pickup.
He declared, “I’m taking you home.”
Her voice was tense as she paused. “I am unable to leave this house.” Everything I own about her
James muttered softly while clenching his jaw. “I understand. But you shouldn’t be by yourself right now.
She had been using a wheelchair since she was six years old. On certain days, she got by with crutches. She needed her wheelchair most of all.
Two days later, Isla showed up in a tiny, filthy cottage that smelled faintly of burnt coffee and motor oil. James cleaned it as best he could. He made a ramp for the front porch, bought her a comfortable mattress, and gave up his bedroom.
Isla watched his attempts to show love in action, even if he burned spaghetti twice, Googled how to braid her hair, and left her hoodie in the dryer for so long that it shriveled.
James’s disappearances at night only perplexed her.
Every night after supper, James would slip out when she was sleeping. “Your father’s drinking again,” Isla recalled her mother saying. He only does those things.
She wasn’t persuaded until one afternoon, after returning from school, she saw the door locked and a sign on the porch that read, “Keys under the pot.” “Please come back soon, Dad,” she said, disappointed.
She left James a bowl, cooked pasta by herself, and ate by herself. That night in bed, she sobbed.
She whispered into her pillow, “Perhaps I’d get a prom date if I weren’t broken.”
Everyone had someone, and the high school prom was just a few days away. All but her. She even dared to invite a few of males to dance, but they scoffed.
Does anyone want to dance with the girl in a wheelchair?
She was curled together trying to contain her tears when James got home at midnight.
What’s wrong, sweetie? He ran to her and requested.
She sobbed, “I don’t have a prom date.” Nobody wants me, Dad. Not in this manner.
She turned away, burying her tears in the pillow.
James said nothing. The following day, he brought a dress home. The shimmer of dark navy blue made Isla think of starlight. She gasped when she saw that.
“Try it on,” he said with a proud smile.
“Why?” she asked, perplexed. I’m not going.
James smiled. Yes, you are. Alongside me.
On prom night, a truck engine roared in the parking lot as seniors and their dates arrived in fancy cars and glittering gowns.
James walked out wearing a faded suit jacket and fading jeans. Smoothing the dress over her lap, he gently lifted Isla’s wheelchair and assisted her in getting off the back of the vehicle.
Walking the red carpet together was a father and daughter. The throng murmured. A few children observed. A few smiled. James wheeled Isla onto the dance floor.
The music intensified.
James leaned down. “All set?”
She laughed nervously. “For what purpose?”
“For this.”
In a one fluid motion, he seized her and spun around. The song has a delicate twist that is neither hasty nor careless.
Isla let out a big, unrestrained laugh. Her hair swirled with her attire, and she no longer felt like the girl in a wheelchair. She just felt like herself. cherished.
She sobbed. “Dad, you are loved.”
She was surrounded by classmates after the dance. Some expressed regret for ignoring her. Selfies were requested by some.
The focus was James. With some tears in their eyes, his parents gave him heartfelt congrats.
One mother said, “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in years.” “Well done, man.”
Without saying anything, James nodded and smiled. He didn’t give an explanation for his sudden return to Isla’s life or his nightly absences.
But destiny has more in store.
After his overnight shift, James discovered a small package in the mailbox the following morning. “Dad of the Year” was written on the card.
Underneath was a check for $10,000.
“Dear James, the prom left a lasting impression on us,” read another note. We wish you and Isla well. I hope her surgery goes well. She deserves more time, so give it to her. From your friends at prom.
James was shocked to see the check. He sat on the porch and sobbed.
He hurried to Isla’s room as soon as she woke up. Guess what, pumpkin? received a gift. A real miracle.
“What do you mean?”
He handed her the letter and cheque.
Her hands trembled as she read. “Is this real?”
James’ voice cracked as he nodded. “You can finally have surgery because of what I’ve saved.”
Isla held him while crying. “I don’t think so. I considered… I thought I would always live this way.
“You won’t,” he said in a whisper. “I swear.”
James worked a second job as a nocturnal caregiver at a nearby nursing home, but Isla was unaware of this. He put a lot of effort into saving money for Isla’s therapy in addition to operating his vehicle.
Years ago, Isla was informed by a doctor that she might be able to walk again, but it would require money, time, and dedication. James offered all three. Sandra had no faith in him. She believed that he was wasting time at bars. She expelled him after losing faith in him.
James never objected. He secretly saved every last bit of energy for his child. He loved her in spite of his flaws.
All of that work finally paid off.
They were going to have surgery. It took months for physical therapy, suffering, and recovery. Trembling, Isla walked once more. No crutches. No wheelchair.
When she ran across the lawn to embrace her father, James felt like a new person.
“You succeeded,” he said, spinning her around. “You succeeded.”
Out of breath, Isla chuckled. “We did.”
Isla flourished in her independence. She received a scholarship to study architecture at a national institution. She was scheduled to leave in October.
James fought back tears as he assisted her with packing.
“Old man, will you miss me?” She made a joke.
“Beyond anything,” he remarked.
Throughout the summer, they created memories in the kitchen while riding, dancing, and cooking. She even learned how to change tires from James.
“You’re my superhero, Dad,” Isla said him as she gave him a hug before heading off to college. You were always.
Proud and appreciative, James waved from the porch as Elizabeth got on the bus.
For years, he had been someone else’s villain. At last, his daughter viewed him as a hero.
That was all he wanted.
