My father sank onto the bottom step of our front porch. “I don’t know. I guess, if everything stayed exactly the same as it is right now, the answer would be yes. The same disease that makes your muscles weak and complicates your breathing sometimes would eventually end your life. But we know that nothing stays the same. There are scientists and doctors working to figure out how to cure you. You are working hard to get better, too. So you see, we could focus on the possibility that’s there right at this moment, or we can choose to believe that there’s a better future out there.”
I thought about what he said, and I nodded to show that I had listened. And I really had. I decided that I was going to do everything I could to live as long as possible, and I was also going to make sure that I lived as fully as I could. I had a good reason to want to live, the best reason in the world, actually.
I was in love.
I don’t know when I realized that I was in love with Abby. I had loved her all my life, that was for sure. Along with Jesse, she was my best friend. But Abby was always more patient with me than even Jesse. She chose me more often than he did. I knew that making choice didn’t help her social life, but she did it anyway.
But the summer before we started junior high, something changed. Not Abby, although she was growing up and getting prettier every day. It was me. That August, when my family was about to go to my grandparents’ house in the mountains and Abby’s family was heading to the shore, I was grumpy. I couldn’t figure out why; I love our two weeks in the Poconoes. We hike trails and play in the creek and sit around reading for hours.
Then the night before I left, Abby came over to say good-bye. She gave me a typical Abby hug—fierce and tight and full of her particular brand of love—and she said, “I guess I’ll see you the first day of school!”
And just like that, I knew. I was in a perpetual bad mood because I was going to have to go two weeks without my best friend, who, as it turns out, was also the love of my life.
I spent most of that night trying to figure out how I could get Abby to come to the Poconoes with us. Or how I could go to the beach with her family. Of course, it wasn’t possible. My mom never would let me be away from her for that long; she always worried if I were out of her sight for longer than a typical school day. And Abby was an only child, like me. Her mom and dad planned this week at the beach especially for her. They wouldn’t let her go with us, and even if they would, how could I explain this sudden need for her?
So the next morning I got into the car with my parents and we drove west. I stared out the window as we crossed the Walt Whitman bridge into Pennsylvania. My mother was talking about everything she wanted to do on vacation, all the food she’d brought to cook delicious meals. My dad was in a good mood, too. It was his parents we stayed with during these two weeks, and he enjoyed that family time.
We had been the car almost an hour before my mother noticed that I was quiet. I shrugged and told her that I was tired, that I hadn’t slept well. A few minutes later, so they wouldn’t guess that my sleeplessness was related to my question, I spoke up.
“Mom? Will I be able to get married some day?” I tried to make it a casual question, something that had just randomly gone through my mind.
I caught the quick glance my parents exchanged, and then my mother turned around in her seat.
“Why do you ask? You planning to propose to someone soon?”
I stifled a sigh. Just once I wished they would take me seriously and give me a straight answer.
“I just wondered, that’s all. You know, with me being. . .different and all.”
My dad met my eyes in the rearview mirror. “I think it’s one of those things we talked about a few years back, bud. Your mom and I hope you can fall in love and get married. But since I’m thinking you’re not going to be eloping any time soon, maybe we don’t have to worry about it today.”
“What made you ask that?” My mother tried to keep her voice light, but I could hear the curiosity and just a tinge of apprehension.
“Oh. . .I don’t know. Just wondering about it.”
We were all quiet for a while, and then my mother, still keeping her tone deceptively casual, remarked, “Abby has really grown up this summer, hasn’t she?”
I don’t know whether I really blushed, but my face felt hot. “Yeah, I guess,” I mumbled.
“Jesse is sprouting up, too,” my father added. “I guess it shouldn’t surprise me. Both his brothers are tall boys. Do you think Jesse will play basketball next year?”
“I don’t know.” I wasn’t really worried about Jesse’s potential in basketball. He was always going to play sports that I wouldn’t be able to dream of trying. I was used to it, but since sports didn’t interest me anyway, his prowess didn’t bother me.
“Hard to believe the three of you are thirteen,” my mother mused. “I remember when you were all babies, and Lisa and I used to tease Abby’s mom about one of you boys being her son-in-law one day.”
“Seriously, Mom.” I rolled my eyes. “We’re not babies anymore.”