"I'm sorry dear," my grandfather said.
"My mother never mentions him. It's like I never had a father." Shannie asked him about World War II. I smiled. Shannie was showing off.
"How does a thirteen year old girl know World War II battles?" Appreciation laced Grandfather's voice.
"My mother is a Twentieth Century history professor. I think its how she stays in touch with my father."
"I missed Normandy, I was in Holland and Bastonge. We were in for a long night of war stories. I slipped back into the kitchen. He was a good storyteller and these were great stories. I wouldn't miss them for the world. It was after ten when grandfather called it a night.
"Punk," Grandfather said. "You're not going to let the young lady walk home alone, are you?"
"She lives next door. It's no big deal."
"Do I have to teach you manners?"
"No."
"Good. Walk the young lady home."
Grandfather kissed Shannie's cheek and thanked her for an enjoyable evening. What a role model, too bad I was uncomfortable with the role.
Outside Shannie thanked me and told me she had a great time. "Thanks, He insisted on meeting you."
"Really," she smiled. It was the surprised smile from earlier in the evening. "Why's that?"
"He's heard a lot about you." I wanted to hold her hand.
"How so?"
"Shannie," I said ignoring her question.
"That's the name."
"I've been thinking."
"About?"
"About tonight," We were standing outside her front door. "I'm sorry. I acted like a kid."
"Yes?" she bit her lower lip.
"I really, well, I really like you."
"And…"
"Well, I like you."
Her smile waned. "I like you to." She slammed the door in my face.
***
"Your grandfather is a trip," Count informed me on the way to school the day before Thanksgiving. "Jesus, can he tell stories." Count had dark circles under his eyes but voice was full of vigor. "The codger kept us up most of the night and we still didn't want him to leave. And you know how the old lady is about having anyone in the house. What a life. I hope I can live one half as interesting. What he has done and seen."
"Yeah he has."
"He won a Silver Star in the war. He shook Kennedy's hand. He was at Woodstock, which is pretty cool since he must have seemed like an old fogy to the hippies. He wrote a book. He even had an end zone seat when Dwight Clarke made the catch."