Grandma Summer Tale

Rain poured and thunder crashed as Casey Baxter sat in her grandparents' living room, staring blankly at the ceiling. As if spending a whole day of summer vacation on their farm wasn’t bad enough, now she couldn’t leap into the lake and swim around all day. She couldn’t even watch television because her grandma and grandpa insisted that sitcoms and hour-long dramas could never compare to the radio.

“It’s boring here,” Casey complained. “It’s like being a pioneer.”

“And what would be so bad about being a pioneer?” Grandma asked as she stepped into the room, carrying a pitcher of lemonade. “They were hard-working people.”

“So are doctors and lawyers, Grandma,” Casey replied, “but they have televisions to watch when they’re relaxing.”

“Oh, fiddlesticks, radios and books do the same trick. Now, why don’t we have a cup of lemonade and listen to the radio? It’ll help pass the time until your grandpa gets back from the store.”

“Okay,” Casey agreed reluctantly. “There’s nothing better to do.”

“I just love these old tunes,” Grandma beamed, singing along to an old, jazzy ballad.

“Don’t you?”

“I guess,” Casey whispered.

Suddenly, the lights began to flicker as wind blew roughly, seeming to shake the whole house back and forth. And soon only Grandma’s voice could be heard as the radio went silence and the room filled with darkness.

“Great, now we don’t even have electricity!” Casey grunted. “What do we do now?”

“We just keep on sipping lemonade to stay cool and I’ll dig out some candles so we can see. You know, when I was a little girl and we had storms, my mama would tell me stories.”

Casey lifted her head, vaguely interested. “Ghost stories?”

“Oh, heavens no,” Grandma said briskly, lighting a match. “She’d tell me stories about things that happened when she was a girl. I loved hearing those stories so much, I actually started liking storms."

“And you’re going to tell me a story now?” Casey asked knowingly, feeling like a toddler at story-time.

“That’s right, kiddo. And I think you’ll like this old tale, it happened when I was about your age, eleven or so. That’s when I had my first summer love.”

Casey grinned. “A summer love? Well, I guess a story about a summer romance couldn’t be too bad.”

“That was the greatest summer of my life, the summer when Jack moved to a farm nearby. I had never had another child living near me until then. And what a handsome boy he was. Blonde curls, tanned skin and bright blue eyes. And he was so tall, taller than all the other boys around.”

“He sounds cute,” Casey commented dreamily.

“Oh, he was older and more mature than all the other boys, too. When you’re eleven a thirteen-year-old boy seems very manly. I really had a sweet spot for him.”

“What about Jack? Did he have a crush on you?” Casey asked excitedly.

“I wasn’t really sure. Boys really are fickle at that age. Sometimes, when they fancy a girl, they pull her pigtails and put salt in her drink instead of just telling her they think she’s sweet.”

“That makes no sense.”

Grandma laughed and nodded. “You’re right, but you’ll find out soon that it’s true, honey.”

“What did you and Jack do that summer? Did you go swimming or take long walks?”

“Well, Jack would go to the school yard everyday and play baseball. As for me, I’d just stand at the flagpole and watch him.”

“All day?" Casey gasped. "You’d just stand there? That’s silly, Grandma. Why didn’t you play with the other kids? Or go up to him?”

Grandma blushed, her skin growing redder than even the glowing candlelight filling the room. “It may seem hard for you to believe, but back then I was shy, too shy to talk to such a handsome boy like Jack.”

“So, that’s what you did everyday? Just watch him play ball?” Casey asked. “How could that have been your favorite summer ever? It seems awfully boring to me.”

“Some days I did get tired of just standing there, but it all paid off. One day the boys were short a player, and even though some boys moaned and groaned about it, Jack asked me to join them.”

“Were you any good?”

Grandma smiled proudly. “Better than any boy playing, even Jack. And he was really impressed, so impressed he asked me to join them everyday for the rest of the summer.”

“Well, now things are starting to get interesting! Did he like having you around?”

“He never said. He mainly just complimented my swing and wrapped his arm around my shoulder at the end of the game. But just knowing that at the end of the day he would give my shoulder a little squeeze kept me wanting to come back.”

“For a squeeze?” Casey groaned. “I wouldn’t get dirty and sweaty everyday just for a tap on the shoulder.”

“Most days it was just a tap, until one special day. On the last day of vacation, after everyone had run off, Jack wrapped his arm around my shoulder and then- planted a big kiss on me!”

“A kiss?” Casey squealed. “How cool! Was he your boyfriend after that?”

“He was,” Grandma told her happily.

“Whatever happened to Jack? Does Grandpa know about him?”

“Well...”

Before Grandma answered, Casey’s grandfather appeared in the doorway, drenched from the rain.

“Hi, Casey. Hi, honey,” Grandpa greeted with a smile. “Quite a storm out there, huh?”

“Hi, John,” Grandma replied. “You should come have some lemonade after you dry off.”

“Grandma,” Casey whispered again, “did Grandpa ever know about Jack?”

Grandma smiled. “Casey, a lot of boys named John go by the nickname ‘Jack’ when they’re younger.”

“It was Grandpa!” Casey giggled. “That’s so awesome, Grandma. You guys have always been sweethearts.”

“And always will be,” Grandma added. “I’m sorry that your visit was ruined by the storm and you couldn’t swim. Maybe next time it’ll be sunny.”

“I hope it’s raining,” Casey said. “I’d rather listen to another one of your stories than go swimming any day, Grandma.”