"...so, Grandmother, I have no idea what he thinks of me, and I keep wondering if I shouldn't break it off."
Holding her barely-adult grandson to her chest, Mrs. Robertson smiled a little to herself. When Jacob pulled away from her embrace and observed the smirk, he became puzzled.
"What's funny, Grandmother?" he wanted to know.
Mrs. Robertson shook her head. "That's a story you'd soon be bored with, Jake," she told him, half-hoping he'd drop the subject. Which, of course, he refused to do.
"Come on, Grandmother! How is my being confused about Dan amusing?"
She sighed and sat down on the rocking chair behind her. "D'you have an hour or so to spare?"
Jake rolled his eyes. "Of course - I'm home for the summer. I've got however long this is going to take."
"All right, then." Mrs. Robertson leaned back in her chair, the movie of the story she was about to relate playing on the insides of her heavy eyelids, her sharp green eyes observing the memory as though it were really happening, right here, right now. Then she wet her lips... and began.
