(Author’s Note: I always think of November as the time to remember family, with Thanksgiving and all. So every Monday in November I’m going to share memories about my family.)
Grady and Florida had been married so many years they had forgotten why.
Florida liked to tell how they met. She was on a joy ride with a boy who was showing off his new car. The car was more interesting than the boy. She lived in Era, a farming community in North Texas during the Great Depression. Girls had to do something for thrills. They were chugging along at a breathtaking thirty-five miles per hour down a dusty road, when Florida saw this young man walking in the same direction they were going. He was tall, had thick black hair, and his shoulders were as broad as a barn.
“Oh, there’s a good-looking man,” she chirped. “Let’s stop.”
Well, the durned fool stopped. She thought it was mean of him to put her in an awkward position just because she asked for it. Florida jumped from the car and walked up to the man who was still walking down the lane.
“Excuse me, sir,” she said in her best damsel in distress voice.
He kept on walking. Now was that rude of him. She ran to catch up and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Excuse me, sir,” she said peevishly. “I called to you. Didn’t you hear me?”
When he turned to look at her, she blinked. He looked like a cowboy movie star. Florida could not quite decide which one. Next she noticed he had only one good eye. The other one was oddly white.
“Huh?”
Great, she thought. He’s half blind and deaf. He smiled and deep dimples appeared in his cheeks. The one eye, which was a dark brown, was gorgeous. Then there were those broad shoulders and the hair she wanted to run her fingers through.
“I said do you know if the high school football schedule has been announced yet?” she asked in a loud voice.
“No.”
“Sorry to have bothered you.” She smiled sweetly.
“Okay.”
She extended her hand. “I’m Florida Flowers. We have a farm on the other side of town.”
He looked at her hand a moment like he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Finally he shook it, gently, because it was so small.
“Okay.”
“Now, remember. Florida Flowers. Like, Florida is the land of flowers.”
“Okay.”
“And what is your name, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Grady.”
“Grady what?” She glanced behind to make sure the boy was still waiting for her. Much to her displeasure, he was laughing.
“Grady Cowling.”
“It was certainly a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Grady Cowling.”
“Okay.”
“You do remember my name, don’t you?”
“Sure. Florida.”
“Florida what?” She didn’t know if she were getting annoyed or romantically aroused.
“Miss Florida Flowers.”
“I hope to see you at one of the football games this season, Mr. Cowling.”
“Okay.”
In September she attended the first game between Era Hornets and Valley View Panthers. Looking around the stands she saw Grady sitting by himself. She plopped herself next to him and began to talk. She talked and he listened for the next six months. When she stopped to take a breath sometime in April, Grady asked her to marry him. He had saved enough money to rent a farm down the road from her family so it was convenient if she wanted to visit her mama from time to time. That made sense to her so they went to the preacher’s house the next week and said their vows. She had sewn herself a new dress, and Grady took a bath.
“How much do I owe you?” Grady asked the preacher, with his wallet in his hand.
“Pay me what you think she’s worth.”
“Oh, I couldn’t pay you that much.”
Florida did not remember what bill he took from his wallet, but she thought at the time he could have afforded to give the preacher a bit more.
She did not mind much. Florida knew he was a hard worker and saved every penny he could. After a few years they could afford to buy the farm they were renting. The house was small. She had to store memorabilia in a trunk stored in the barn. Maybe they could add a room as the family grew. And it did grow. They had two boys right off, but one of them died. Doctor bills took the money set aside to buy the farm. Then another boy came along. Florida was excited the year Grady had a bumper crop of cotton. This would be the year they would buy the farm. But the government ordered half of all cotton plants be plowed under to boost prices. She cried when she watched Grady tilled over them. Grady did not say anything. It was just another day of work.
As the boys grew, the possibility of buying the land diminished until one day the dream died as they sat around the kitchen table and decided they had best pack up and move to the nearest town, Gainesville. With ten thousand people, it was almost considered a city. Grady had already found a job driving a Royal Crown Cola truck. Eventually, hopefully, they could buy a house with a big enough lot to plant some corn, potatoes and beans. And a flower garden. Florida always liked her flowers.
The day came when Grady borrowed his brother’s big truck to load the furniture. They were in the barn gathering the last of their possessions. It was a slow job, because Florida had to stop and cry. Each item that went into the truck reinforced the reality they would never have their own farm. Grady just kept on working. Besides, he did not know what to say to her.
Last to be loaded on the truck was an old trunk. It had been there as long as they had been married, and they had forgotten what was in it. Florida wanted to take a moment to look inside. Grady opened it, and lifted out an old dress, dirty, stained and gnawed around the edges by rats that inhabited the barn’s dark corners.
“I bet you don’t even remember what that is,” she said. Her voice—which she always raised so he could hear her–was tinged with bitterness. It had just crept in over the years of hope, despair and the monotonous chore of surviving.
Grady held the dress tenderly, like he had held her hand the first day they met on the dirt road.
“It’s the dress you got married in.”
Without another word, he put it back in the trunk which he lifted into the truck. The boys clambered into the back. Grady and Florida sat silently in the cab as the truck headed to Gainesville for the next phase of their lives. They didn’t expect much, just more of the same.
They had the wedding dress though. Like their marriage, it was dirty, stained, had holes in it, but it was still there.