Gambling

In a way, my grandma won my grandpa in a bet. My grandma was the youngest child of a prosperous farmer. My grandpa was the son of a sharecropper who saved his family from poverty by taking a railroad job. My grandma and her friends were standing at a church picnic wondering who the new guy talking to my grandma's brothers was. They all thought he was handsome. And so they started a pool, with the first person who got a date with him winning all of the money. So, no, I don't think you'd call my grandma conventionally beautiful, but she was brilliant and witty and had this smile that made you feel like anything might happen. She smiled and you got french fries for dinner. She smiled and you got a beautiful dress your parents forbid you from owning. In other words, when she smiled, you felt like you were going to get your heart's desire. My grandpa was born in a house that was also being used as a chicken coop. I mention that just so you can see how high the stakes were for him. For every other man my grandma knew, a girl who smiled like you were going to get your heart's desire, was delightful, but not necessary. But for a farm-boy just recently dirt poor? That kind of promise must have been irresistible. So, when she walked over to him and said, "I'd love it if you picked me up at seven on Friday," it's not surprising that he smiled back and said, "Sure."