True Love

 “Remember when I used to tell you children’s stories in this very spot?” asked Alison’s grandma on a blistering hot Sunday afternoon after they had attended church. “Right here under this gigantic oak tree.” She rested a hand on it and let it take the weight of her body.

“Seems like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it?” said Alison, wiping the sweat off her brow with the back of a hand. “It’s so good to finally visit with you again, Grandma. Has it really been almost twenty years since you told me a story?” 

“It has,” replied Grandma, sucking in a large lungful of fresh country air and exhaling it, slowly and steadily. “And have I got a great one for you today! I’ve been waiting for such a moment to tell you about my father and mother – your great grandfather and great grandmother – and their romance, in this very spot where I used to tell you your favorite stories. I have a sneaking suspicion a woman of your age now with some understanding of how the world works will find it to be perhaps the strangest and most intriguing tale you ever heard.”

She suddenly looked alarmed and dropped her gaze to Alison’s sides. “You brought the wine and cheese, didn’t you?”

Alison nodded vehemently, extending a woven bag.

“Oh, thank God!” Grandma gasped, placing a hand on her heart, then taking hold of the bag. “I got a scare there.” She laughed under her breath. “Let’s setup the blanket here, shall we?”

They moved over into the shade underneath the tree.

“So what part of my great grandfather’s story is most interesting?” asked Alison, taking the blanket Grandma gave her and throwing it up in the air, before watching it settle to the ground.

With no hesitation, Grandma flatly said, “Without a doubt, the day he met your great grandmother. That’s where the story begins.” She sat down on the blanket without much effort, and Alison sat down too, having finished straightening the corners out. “Wine, dear,” said Grandma. “It’s never a bad time for wine.” She chuckled to herself.

“How’d they meet?” asked Alison, pouring a glass for her. “Your parents?”

“In a storm, they met in a wild storm,” said Grandma, pausing to balance the glass she took from Alison at its stem and putting it to her lips, before turning it up. “Devilish winds, and devilish rain. Mother’s car had broken-down on the side of the road, and father showed up to save the day. He was a courier.”

“And that was the beginning of their whirlwind romance, was it?”

“It was. It was the beginning of a connection, a strong love bond. To those who knew them, no one had ever seen anything like it. The passion was like a fireball.”

Alison thought a moment. “What made them connect so well?” she asked, lounging on one arm and taking a sip of wine with her free hand.

“They understood each others’ sense of humors,” replied Grandma, taking a long gulp of wine before resting her glass down on the blanket and licking her lips. “They got each other. See, they both enjoyed teasing and role-playing and they both recognized it was a gesture of love towards each other to poke fun at each other and nothing to get offended by, like those with closed, cold hearts tend to do.” She picked up a piece of cheese and popped it into her mouth, and then giggled. “Wine and cheese ... the greatest pleasure in life after your husband is gone.”

Alison bunched up her lips and propped them to one cheek. She thought for a long moment longer. “So is that the secret to love? Getting each other, and loving what you find?”

“Perhaps,” said Grandma, reaching out and pouring herself another glass of wine. “But a love child came out of their relationship, only father didn’t know about it at the time, and he wouldn’t know it till many years later.” She cleared her throat and placed a hand on her breast. “That child was me.”

Alison’s mouth fell open. “Why have you never told me any of this before, Grandma?”

“It’s the origin of a new family tradition,” said Grandma. “We have designated times in which we will reveal our history to our descendants.” She chuckled to herself. “It’ll be an enchanting little ritual for future generations.”

Alison nodded with understanding. “So they didn’t stay together then, did they – even with you on the way?”

Grandma shook her head. “Father lost his cool one night and started what turned into a nasty fight. This was before mother knew she was pregnant. Words were said that couldn’t be taken back, and she left him, saying she would now be looking to marry another man.”

Alison lifted her chin up from resting on her arm which was sitting atop a bent knee, her thigh pressed closely against her chest. Taking a bite of cheese, she asked, “What was the fight about?”

Grandma pursed her lips and shook her head. She took a quick sip of wine. “I’m sorry, but that part of the story will only be passed down from mother to daughter. Your own mother knows the reason and she will tell you one day and you in turn will tell your own daughter when her time comes.”

“So she married another man then, is that right?”

Grandma nodded, as she nibbled on some cheese. “A rich one too. And he never knew I wasn’t his till much, much later. They married only about three months after the fight with father.”

Alison clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh lord! How did your father take it?”

“Not good,” answered Grandma with a sigh. “He turned to booze. Hard. Until some television producers saw him drunk at a bar one night. He was just the thing they were looking for. And he was too. He became rich and famous. And since he was handsome, the women chased after him. Soon he was living the sex, drugs and rock ’n’ roll lifestyle.”

“Jesus,” gasped Alison. “But where was your mother in all this?”

Grandma smiled. “Why, raising me! Overseas.”

Alison nodded her head up and down slowly. “I see. How rich was your stepdad, anyway?”

“He owned a transport and shipping company that ran all across the country, so quite a wealthy guy.” 

“You lived in affluence then, did you?”

Grandma nodded. “I did.” She took a sip of wine. “Anyway, after father and mother’s fight, the next time they saw each other again was eighteen years later. She sought him out to tell him she had a lifetime of regret for leaving him and how disappointed she had been in her marriage ... and about his daughter, of course – me!”

“That must have been the shock of a lifetime, huh?”

“Mother said she had never seen him look so happy in all his life!” exclaimed Grandma. “He was ecstatic! Just like your father was when you were born. I was there. I should know.” She smiled beautifully.

“Yes! So the family got back together, right?!”

Grandma looked very solemn and slowly lowered her face. When she spoke again, it was in a choked voice. “The car accident was days later. I was only eighteen. And after that, father refused to see me because it reminded him too much of the pain of losing my mother. I never met him.”

“Christ!”

Grandma began to heave and then sob. “Then – he – committed – suicide. Hung – himself.” She began to wail. “Out – of – grief.” But in a moment, she steadied her voice. “They were gonna get back together. They also talked about that when they reunited for the last time.” She began to well up in the eyes all over again and a tear or two streamed down her cheeks. “We were supposed to be a whole family again, for the first time.”

Then she broke down into a fit of tears.

In an instant, Alison was at her side, hugging her. “There, there, Grandma.”

After they rocked back and forth a moment, Grandma coughed into a crumpled fist. “I’m okay, dear. It just hurts to remember.” She cleared her throat. “This is the story of your ancestors. It was for true love. Always remember that, Alison. It was for true love.”

“I will, Grandma,” replied Alison. “I will.”