Hold Me Tight by Faith Sullivan Page B

hand.
    “She did,” I answer, reflecting on their life together. “But my grandpa didn’t have a lot of money. Times were tough. He worked his father’s farm most of the day then got in a few hours before the sun went down on his own land. It wasn’t easy. It was backbreaking work, but somehow he managed to pull it off and make a go of it.”
    “How?” Ivy’s curiosity is definitely piqued. She knows how much the two of us have to struggle in order to get by. She wants to know how they did it, how they were able to sustain their romance in the face of everyday life.
    “He knew her heart, inside and out,” I say simply. “He knew all of the little things that would make her happy. He didn’t go to extravagant lengths on these dates because he didn’t have the means to. Instead, he focused on her. When they went out, he gave her his undivided attention. He didn’t complain to her about the price of corn or how the wheel on his tractor was busted. He kept things light. They’d talk about their dreams for the future and where they’d travel if they could honeymoon anywhere they wanted. He created a dream world they could escape to by just being together.”
    “I love that,” Ivy whispers, stroking my arm.
    “I thought you would.” I smile against her hair.
    “So did they go on a hundred dates?” Ivy questions as she gazes thoughtfully up at the skylight, rolling the idea around in her mind.
    “They did,” I affirm, watching her smile widen. “No matter how busy my grandfather was, he always set aside Saturday evenings for my grandma. That night of the week belonged to her and her alone. He’d always made sure to gussy himself up for her, even if he only had time for a cold shower and a quick shave. And she’d always wear the newest dress she had made and a hint of her mother’s perfume. They looked forward to their Saturday nights alone together. It’s what got them through the week and ultimately through a two-year engagement.”
    “Wow. They were engaged for two years?” Ivy whistles under her breath.
    “Unbeknownst to my grandma, my grandpa set up a deal with the jeweler in town. The only way he’d be able to afford a diamond ring was if he were allowed to pay it off a little at a time. When the jeweler crunched the numbers, it was apparent that my grandfather would need to make a lot of payments—a hundred in fact.” I pause for effect, and Ivy nestles her face closer to mine.
    “Every Saturday before he went to pick her up, he’d make a payment on the ring. He didn’t want her to pity him for being poor. He was determined to give her the very best he could.” I swallow, getting choked up even though I’ve heard this story a million times. With Ivy in bed next to me, it’s taking on a whole new meaning.
    “What did she say when she finally saw the ring?” Ivy asks as she moves her hand back and forth, allowing the rays of the weak November sunlight to dance across the diamond.
    “See, that’s the thing. She didn’t seem surprised at all when he slipped it on her finger,” I remark, realizing the full impact of the story.
    “How come?” Ivy inquires, turning to look at me.
    “She knew when she fell in love with him that their life together would never be easy. She was the daughter of a farmer. She knew firsthand what that kind of life was like. She saw how it had worn down her parents and she didn’t want that type of life for herself.” I cradle Ivy’s face in my palm, running my thumb up and down her cheek as we look into each other’s eyes.
    “But…?” Ivy questions, leaning into my hand.
    “She thought by stalling that somehow she’d fall out of love with my grandpa. He’d lose interest in trying to woo her and he’d settle for someone who would cook and clean for him so he could focus on making his farm a success. Farmers didn’t have time for romance, and that’s what she so desperately wanted.” I can’t stop the tinge of sadness from entering my voice