he?"
"You know who your grandfather was. Wesley James Pierce. The day I met Wesley, I thought he was the most handsome man I'd ever seen. Even his name was handsome. His voice was deep and gravelly, you'd wonder if it was a man talking or something else. And those eyes. I used to say it was like God unearthed two perfect emeralds and used them for Wesley's eyes."
"Where did you meet?"
Grandma picks up her crocheting and fiddles with it. "It was the summer my father made us all help out in the fields. It was 1940. We'd lost our farm help and so it was all hands on deck. Wesley came down the driveway like he was running from a demon, a trail of dust following him. To say my father was unimpressed is an understatement." She picks up her glass of tea and sips on it before she continues. "My father told us to keep working but once Wesley stepped out of his vehicle, I snuck as close as I could to listen in. He introduced himself to my father."
"What did he want?"
"He was trying to sell us the newest John Deere tractor on the market. He believed it could help my father capitalize on our crops, cut the labor in half. Of course, my father was skeptical of all technology and machinery." A small smile dances across Grandma’s lips.
"Wesley was a goner before he ever stepped out of the car. My father was a stubborn man. And so was your grandfather. They butted heads all the way till my father died."
I sit up in my chair, she's never told this story before.
"Why wouldn't your father want a tractor that could increase his crops and make him more money?"
She laughed. "Because it was thirteen hundred dollars. It doesn't sound like a lot today, but back then, it was more than we could afford. Even if he actually wanted it."
"So Grandpa never got the sale then? How do you come into the equation?" I ask.
"When I heard my father arguing, I stepped from my hiding spot. I don't know what I was thinking. There wasn't anything I could have done to change my father's mind. All I remember is wanting to meet the man who could get my father so worked up."
"I bet your father wasn't happy you interrupted."
"He was spitting mad. But it only took one look into Wesley's eyes and I was hooked. He asked my name and before I could say, my father told him to leave our property. You know what really got me, though?"
"What?" I indulge her.
"Wesley didn't argue. He looked at me, smiled and then tipped his hat, then thanked my father for his time. It was the ultimate show of respect."
"So how did you two end up together, then?" Vince asks from behind his camera.
Grandma's smile morphs into a mischievous grin. "He came back the next day and told me if I went out with him, he'd give my father the tractor for a trial period. What kind of daughter would I have been if I didn't oblige?"
"So he bribed you?"
"Well." Grandma thinks about it. "I guess he did. We were married seven months later, so I guess we both got what we wanted." I think about their faded wedding picture hanging in the hallway and it stirs up nostalgic memories. When I was younger, I'd pass the picture and I was sure it had two movie stars trapped inside. They were perfect in a completely flawed way.
"What was Grandpa like as a husband?"
"Oh, dear. Like I said, he was such a stubborn man, but lord did he love with all he had. He wasn't the type to do anything halfway. It was all or nothing with him. He couldn't sit back and watch his friends go to war without him. He wanted in on the action. I begged him to stay behind, but he wouldn't hear it. He was stubborn for sure, but he was gentle, kind and he loved his son and granddaughter fiercely."
Hearing her talk about my grandfather is like cutting myself open and letting the blood flow. How she talks about him without wanting to die amazes me.
But she doesn't have any guilt on her hands, either.
I change the subject. "When did Grandpa go to the war?"
"He was shipped to North Africa in April of
"You know who your grandfather was. Wesley James Pierce. The day I met Wesley, I thought he was the most handsome man I'd ever seen. Even his name was handsome. His voice was deep and gravelly, you'd wonder if it was a man talking or something else. And those eyes. I used to say it was like God unearthed two perfect emeralds and used them for Wesley's eyes."
"Where did you meet?"
Grandma picks up her crocheting and fiddles with it. "It was the summer my father made us all help out in the fields. It was 1940. We'd lost our farm help and so it was all hands on deck. Wesley came down the driveway like he was running from a demon, a trail of dust following him. To say my father was unimpressed is an understatement." She picks up her glass of tea and sips on it before she continues. "My father told us to keep working but once Wesley stepped out of his vehicle, I snuck as close as I could to listen in. He introduced himself to my father."
"What did he want?"
"He was trying to sell us the newest John Deere tractor on the market. He believed it could help my father capitalize on our crops, cut the labor in half. Of course, my father was skeptical of all technology and machinery." A small smile dances across Grandma’s lips.
"Wesley was a goner before he ever stepped out of the car. My father was a stubborn man. And so was your grandfather. They butted heads all the way till my father died."
I sit up in my chair, she's never told this story before.
"Why wouldn't your father want a tractor that could increase his crops and make him more money?"
She laughed. "Because it was thirteen hundred dollars. It doesn't sound like a lot today, but back then, it was more than we could afford. Even if he actually wanted it."
"So Grandpa never got the sale then? How do you come into the equation?" I ask.
"When I heard my father arguing, I stepped from my hiding spot. I don't know what I was thinking. There wasn't anything I could have done to change my father's mind. All I remember is wanting to meet the man who could get my father so worked up."
"I bet your father wasn't happy you interrupted."
"He was spitting mad. But it only took one look into Wesley's eyes and I was hooked. He asked my name and before I could say, my father told him to leave our property. You know what really got me, though?"
"What?" I indulge her.
"Wesley didn't argue. He looked at me, smiled and then tipped his hat, then thanked my father for his time. It was the ultimate show of respect."
"So how did you two end up together, then?" Vince asks from behind his camera.
Grandma's smile morphs into a mischievous grin. "He came back the next day and told me if I went out with him, he'd give my father the tractor for a trial period. What kind of daughter would I have been if I didn't oblige?"
"So he bribed you?"
"Well." Grandma thinks about it. "I guess he did. We were married seven months later, so I guess we both got what we wanted." I think about their faded wedding picture hanging in the hallway and it stirs up nostalgic memories. When I was younger, I'd pass the picture and I was sure it had two movie stars trapped inside. They were perfect in a completely flawed way.
"What was Grandpa like as a husband?"
"Oh, dear. Like I said, he was such a stubborn man, but lord did he love with all he had. He wasn't the type to do anything halfway. It was all or nothing with him. He couldn't sit back and watch his friends go to war without him. He wanted in on the action. I begged him to stay behind, but he wouldn't hear it. He was stubborn for sure, but he was gentle, kind and he loved his son and granddaughter fiercely."
Hearing her talk about my grandfather is like cutting myself open and letting the blood flow. How she talks about him without wanting to die amazes me.
But she doesn't have any guilt on her hands, either.
I change the subject. "When did Grandpa go to the war?"
"He was shipped to North Africa in April of
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