Well, there you go! exclaimed Alex. Just as it should be! The last word in the house must always belong to the man.
Early in the morning, Alex came down from London to visit the Yeomans, his grandparents. Theyd only just been to his wedding not long ago. Alex was stopping by for some potatoes, since he always helped his dear Granny and Grandad sow and dig them up each season.
So, tell us, Alexhow are you getting on with Emily these days? Granny inquired, bustling about the kitchen.
Ah, you know, Granny it has its moments. Good and bad, Alex replied, a bit sheepish.
Hold on a minute, said Grandad John, eyeing his grandson curiously. What do you mean by good and bad? You two rowing already, are you?
No, not exactly. Were just trying to sort out whos in charge at home, Alex admitted.
Granny laughed from the stove, Look at you twotrying to sort out something thats already clear as daylight.
Grandad burst out laughing too. Of course its clear. The wifes always been, and always will be, in charge of the family.
Oh really? came Grannys voice, with a trace of indulgence.
Grandad, you cant be serious! Alex stared at his grandfather. Are you having me on?
Not in the least, insisted John. Ask your Granny if you dont believe me. Go on, Margaret, tell the lad: who gets the final say in this house?
Oh, do stop being funny, she replied, fondly.
No, go ontell him, John insisted. Who makes the final decision, you or me?
Well, I supposeits usually me.
Alex looked baffled. That cant be right. Ive never noticed anything like that here. Anyway, I reckon a mans home should always be his castle.
Oh, dont be daft, Alex, Grandad chuckled. A real family works differentlylet me tell you a couple of stories, then youll get it.
Story
Oh dear, here we go, muttered Granny, feigning annoyance. Hes bound to tell you about that old motorbike now.
What motorbike? Alex was puzzled.
The one rusting out in the shed, Grandad confirmed eagerly. Its nearly a hundred years old if its a day. You know how your Gran made me buy that thing?
Gran MADE you buy it?
She did. Gave me the money herselffrom her savings, no less. But thats not the beginning of it.
One year, Id managed to put aside just enough to get a motorbike with a sidecar. I said to Margaret, I fancy buying a motorbikewith a sidecar. Be easier hauling potatoes home from the fields. Back then, we had plots out in the country for growing spuds.
Your Gran put her foot down. No, she says, we could really do with a colour telly. They were dear then, you see. You always bring potatoes home on your bikejust keep doing that.
Sling the sack on the crossbar and off you go! So I said, Fair enough, your words the last. We bought a telly.
And the motorbike? Alex asked, perplexed.
We did eventually buy the bike, sighed Granny. But only after your Grandad did his back in carrying those potatoes. I ended up hauling almost all of them that year.
Once wed sold the pigs for meat in November, I gave him every penny of the money and told him to go fetch that sidecar bike from town.
And the next autumn, Grandad continued, we came into a bit of money again. I said, We ought to build a new shed for a bath. The old ones roofs rotten and the walls are knackered. And what does your Gran say? Lets buy proper furniture instead, so our house looks right. I said, Alright, your words final. We bought the furniture.
And come spring, the bath shed collapsed down anywaytoo much snow! Granny finished. The roof couldnt hold it. After that, I figured, let John do as he likes.
There you have it! declared Alex. All proper. The last word for the man!
No, no, Alex, Grandad roared with laughter. Youve missed it. See, before I do anythingeven nowI always go to your Gran, I want to redo the fireplace. Agreed? And then, we do whatever she says.
These days, added Granny, I just say, Whatever you think, love, go ahead.
So, Alex, always remember, summed up Grandad, the last word in the family ought to be the wifes. Reckon you get me?
Alex frowned, then started laughing. Once he stopped, his face cleared with sudden inspiration.
I get it now, Grandad. Ill go home and tell Emily, Alright, lets go holidaying in Spain as you want. Ill put off getting the car in for repairsgearbox still dodgy, needs replacing. If it conks out, so be it. Well commute by bus all winterjust means earlier mornings. Nothing wrong with that, eh? Hows that, Grandad?
Spot on! Grandad nodded warmly. A year or two, and youll both learn to muddle through together.
And always let your wife be Head of the Housekeeps things peaceful for the husband. I knowtrust me on that one.Alex glanced out the window. The sun had pushed aside the morning mist; golden light streaked across the potato rows, catching the rusted glint of the old motorbike in its shed.
He grinned at his grandparentsat their warm bickering, their quiet partnership worn smooth by years of muddy boots and pots of tea and decisions big and small.
Alright then, he said, hoisting a burlap sack of spuds over his shoulder. Head of the House it is. Emily can have the last word. But Ill always have the last laughjust like you two.
Granny winked. A wise man learns quick.
As Alex waved goodbye, he felt the comfort of hundreds of quiet compromises echoing through his own young marriage. He thought of Emily, saw her smile in his minds eye, imagined her rolling her eyes over his spanner hands and stubborn streak. Suddenly, he was eager to get homedodgy gearbox and all.
Down the path he walked, sack heavy but heart much lighter, thinking perhaps the old motorbike hadnt just carried potatoes. Maybe, in its own stubborn way, it had hauled along a story, and a secret for keeping love running just right.
And as Granny and Grandad watched him go, they turned to each other, smiling in that soft, knowing way that only long love brings, and shut the door behind themtogether, as always, with no need for any last word at all.
