Wow. This is interesting. A Hairspray fic. :D I'm very new to such stories, but whatever. Sorry for the corny title, I couldn't think of anything else :(
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Title: Our Love Story
Summary: Whenever her grandsons ask her to tell them a story, it's always about cars, monsters and brave heroes. When her only granddaughter asks, the only story to tell is her own. And it all began '…the summer of 1962, in Baltimore'.
Our Love Story
Prologue
I watched contently as my three grandsons lay on the sofas, half asleep. The youngest of the three, Kaleb, was asleep. He was only four; bless him, and a day of playing with his eldest brothers always tired him.
The other two, identical twins Marc and Lucifer were coming up to seven years old. Each of my grandsons was beautiful, and someday would break a lot of hearts. As would my only granddaughter.
I turned and scanned the living room for any sign of her. A moment later, I decided she must be upstairs, so I slowly made my way up and found the little dear lying on her bed, clutching her teddy and with an awful scowl on her face.
"Hannah, why are you still up?" I chuckled.
"Don't wanna go to bed," she said stubbornly. I sighed and sat at the end of the bed.
"C'mon, baby. Your brothers are asleep," I told her.
"They're stupid," she mumbled, causing me to laugh. The little six-year-old looked up at me with big blue eyes.
"Tell me a story, Grams?" she asked pleadingly. I arched an eyebrow. Hannah had never asked me to read her a story. She's always been content with half-listening as I told her brothers a story about a hero fighting evil demons and monsters, and by the time I'd checked on her she was fast asleep. I'd always wanted her to ask me, because I knew there was one story she'd love.
"What type, baby?" I asked.
"A real one!" she beamed, "Without stupid cars and monsters!"
A big genuine smile stretched across my face, "I have a good real story. About love,"
"Love?" she asked, cocking her head, "Like Mommy and Daddy?"
I nodded. She grinned and told me, "I'm in love!"
I grinned, "You? Who with, darling?"
"Boy at school," she said, hugging her bear, "He gave me half his cookie,"
I couldn't help but laugh here. It was so adorable that a six-year-old believed half a cookie could be love. Love was a lot more than that. Sometimes you loved someone so much it hurt, and sometimes you fell in love with the wrong person.
"Okay, Han," I agreed, moving so I was behind her on the bed and my head was leaning back against the wall. Hannah grinned and snuggled into my side.
"Now, this story is quite long. Mommy and Daddy could be back before I'm finished," I told her.
"It's okay, Grams. You could finish it tomorrow," she grinned. I smiled down at her, playing absent-mindedly with her gorgeous hair.
"Right, let me think," I sighed, pretending to rack my brains.
"Now, this story is about two people who weren't meant to be together," I told her, "And it's all true. It happened about forty years ago,"
"Wow!" Hannah whispered, "Go on,"
"Right," I beamed, "Well, sweetie. It all began shortly after a pageant. In the summer of 1962, in Baltimore,"
Hmm…short. But a beginning. Next time, we'll be going back to 1962 Summertime Baltimore. I think the Ms. Hairspray pageant was in spring/early summer, right?
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