“All love that has not friendship for its base, is like a mansion built upon the sand.” ~Ella Wheeler Wilcox
He held a pocket-watch in one hand and a postcard in the other. “A funny thing about Grandma – she loved the water but didn’t like to swim. No matter where they ended up at, she had a way of finding the most magnificent views involving water.” Ashley smiled as he handed Christina the postcard. “They could be in Montana or Nevada, and Grandma would always, always find the water.”
“Pity we couldn’t test that theory driving through Death Valley,” she quipped. “How did they meet?”
“At a boat show. Her parents had a business and they were one of the main vendors there. He happened to take a detour through town on a whim, or so he says. I learned over the years to take some of his stories with a grain of salt.
“There was one story he told me, when I was little, that he was a descendant of Captain Ahab. I believed him. Then, there was the time that he said he was a descendant of Jules Verne. And then there was that guy in Jaws, the one who ran his fingers down the chalkboard – that was based on one of Grandpa’s uncles.”
“Hook, line and sinker, huh,” Christina said, shaking her head.
“Every time. One thing he shared with me, while we were out fishing on the lake one summer, was – ‘whomever you decide to spend the rest of your life with had better have had a firm foundation of friendship first.’ Obviously, this means you know I’m spending the rest of my days as a bachelor and so-.”
“Oh, there’s still time, if you wanted to. However, given how well you’ve concealed that heart of yours, I don’t think even Houdini could break it out into the open.”
Ashley smiled. “About that fella, Grandpa once said…”