Finding Hope in Texas (24 page)

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“Are you going to be my nurse again?”

I could feel my face flush in the cold as he
leaned in and gave me a hug.

“I’ll see you after the battle.” And with
that, my fighting boy turned to rejoin the ranks, giving me a quick
wink as he did.
I could’ve melted.

“Miss Kilpatrick.” The last name call could
only have been from Mr. Peet.

“Yes?” I turned to him.

“Help Elizabeth pack a few things so we can
get out of here at a decent hour, okay?” His words were stern,
something that I never really had heard from him before.

“Oh, okay ...”

But he walked passed me quickly before I
could totally respond.
Hum? Wonder what’s eating him?

Lizzy and I managed to get most of the gear
packed away while a battle went on just down the street. About half
way through, and after Lizzy allowed me to redress into modern
clothing, I ran back to the sutlers’ tents. I wanted to get Jason
something, but didn’t know what. Finally, I saw it and had the man
behind the counter get me a pocket watch out of the glass case. It
cost forty dollars; not too bad, I guessed.

I returned to camp just in time to see the
regiment marching back in looking a little worn from the excursion.
Men began unloading the rifles and military wear as quickly as
possible, rushing into their tents to change back into Clark Kent.
Their day was not over as they still had to pack up the trucks and
trailers and make the drive home. Mr. Peet was gone before we knew
it and drove back into camp with the trailer before most of the
others had redressed. His packing was quick too, basically just
tossing everything in without order or care while Lizzy scolded him
for doing so. We helped him collapse the tents, which he only
managed to wad up into a big canvas pile before tossing it in the
trailer and shutting the door.

“You girls ready to go? Got a long drive
ahead of us.”

“Dad, get a grip. Let’s help out the
others.”

Mr. Peet rolled his eyes, but followed in
helping take down Daniel and Robin’s wall tent and then Mike and
Hunter’s. Jason also helped, having packed up his meager belongings
quickly.

I pulled him aside. “I hope you don’t mind,
but I got you this.” I held out the pocket watch to him.

“Hope, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I know. I just wanted to say...to say thank
you.”

His eyes darted from the pocket watch to me.
Oh, how I wanted to say so much more, to express to him how much
that simple talk had meant for me, only hoping it meant something
for him, too. His eyes seemed to read my face and he quickly pulled
me close to hold me.

“Thank you for this. Thank you for
everything,” he whispered, as I was lost in his arms again.

“A-hem!” We both looked over at Mr. Peet.
“I’m seeing too much PDA around here. Why don’t y’all make
yourselves some breathing room?” Again, the sarcasm was gone, but
the stern voice was so ever apparent.

“Stop it, Robert,” scolded Robin. “You were
young once.”

“Don’t remind me.”

With a little more work, everyone began to
finish packing up. The goodbyes that had followed the parade soon
started once again within the group. I said goodbye to people that
I had hardly seen that weekend. I didn’t know their names, but
figured I would learn them over time if I continued this historical
hobby. Hunter gave Lizzy one of his big bear hugs before he and
Mike took off. Jason approached me once again.

“Did you have a good weekend?” he asked.

“Most definitely so. How was yours?”

“One of the best in a long time.” He took me
into his embrace again. “I’ll have to stop by the antique store
sometime.”

“I’m not there much.”

“Well, maybe we can find a place where both
of us will be.”

“How about Canton?” We both looked at Lizzy.
“It’s next weekend and Hunter said he wanted to go down there and
see all the crap. Maybe we could all go and get away from these old
people for a while.” She pointed off to her dad who glared back at
her.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Jason said, “if
you’re up to looking through some more junk.”

“It seems we do a lot of that together,” I
replied and smiled.

“So the four of us next Saturday?” Lizzy
chirped.

“Sounds good, kid,” Jason answered while
looking at me. “I’ll see you then.”

“Not if I see you first.”

He smiled and gave me a kiss on top of my
head, something that my dad would’ve done, but I could understand
him holding back. This was a reenactment, not some teenage make-out
party.

Jason gave me a strong squeeze, thanked me
again for the pocket watch and was off to his old truck, waving
again as he passed by. It wasn’t long after that we were on the
road, too, driving back up I-45 towards DFW. Besides Lizzy making
her usual conversation, Mr. Peet and I were mostly silent on the
way home. Even when they dropped me off, Mr. Peet didn’t get out of
the truck, leaving me ringing my own doorbell to get in.

“Oh, hey,” Mags said as if she wasn’t
expecting me. “I must have lost track of time. Did you have a good
weekend?”

“I did,” I gazed around the living room,
seeing the place in disarray with papers scattered around the room
and in piles. “What happened?”

“Nothing, nothing. I just haven’t cleaned up
over the weekend. So you said you had a good time.”

“Yeah, I did. Really Mags, what happened
here? I know you don’t make messes. It is one thing I do like about
you.”

“It’s nothing really. Mr. Lambert called and
said that someone has put an offer in on the store.”

“Oh?”

“Well, not just the store. The whole
complex.” She sat down and dropped her head. “He says they’re going
to buy it and remodel the whole thing, you know, make it more up to
date and accommodating.”

“Well, that’s good, right? It means that the
store will probably get more business.”

Mags shook her head. “Hope, they’re going to
flatten the whole thing. Every little shop there will be destroyed
in a few weeks. They’re going to put name brand businesses in the
new stores and leave the rest of us out on our butts.”

I sat down next to her. “Well, did you try
talking to the new owners and let them know about your plans for
the antique store?”

“And why would they listen to me? I’m no one,
just some middle-aged woman who sells antique buttons.”

It might have been the first time I had ever
seen Mags down on herself. Even when she used to call dad and tell
him she was moving, she was always confident in her next prospect
in life, never looking back at all the disappointments. So why was
this one so hard to take?

“You really like that place, don’t you?”

She smiled and nodded. “I know it’s stupid.
It’s a junk store and it’s
full
of junk. But when I’m there
it all just comes to life for me and I know everything in the store
is there for a purpose, like its life hasn’t run out yet. For some
reason or another, it’s all waiting to be purchased by someone who
will come in there and their eyes will get all wide. They always
say, ‘I had one of these as a kid’ or ‘I haven’t seen this since
God knows when.’ So the item isn’t junk, not to that special
person. It’s meaningful for them; it still has a life to fulfill.”
She looked over at me. “Am I talking to a brick wall?”

I shook my head. “So the store is gone, what
about the jun...what about the antiques?”

“That’s why I have all these forms out. Mr.
Lambert was going to give me ten days from yesterday to come up
with the money to buy the stuff off the shelves.”

“How much do you need?” It was a stupid
question and I knew deep down inside she was goading me into
something, but I had to ask.

“Twenty-five thousand.” My eyes closed and I
shook my head. There was no possible way.

Chapter
Ten

I didn’t sleep well that night. Mags dropped
the bombshell that she was about to be out of a job and needed me
to bail her out and I was just supposed to accept it? I knew this
would happen if I moved down here with her. Mom called her “Aunt
Mooch” when Tyler and I were not supposed to be listening. There
was no telling how much money Dad had sent her throughout the years
or where her small fortune of inheritance went when my grandma
Vickie passed away, if she even left her much, knowing that it
would be in jeopardy. How could you give someone money who didn’t
know how to use it?

It may have been from being tired or thinking
about the entire weekend, but school seemed more boring than usual
that Monday. Teachers were getting back into the groove of their
monotone ways, probably counting the days until spring break next
month. I’m sure the cold spell wasn’t helping them as they probably
all wanted to push their thermostats a little higher but were in
constant fear that the ten-dollar expense would have them called in
front of the board for wasting taxpayer’s dollars. Ahh, Texas.
Fine school buildings, but no willingness to spend a few extra
dollars to give anyone a decent education inside of them.

Mr. Peet’s class was entertaining as he
railed against the big Imperial United States taking over the
little islands of the Pacific, comparing it to the young adult
novel
The Hunger Games
, which was probably too extreme, but
it gave the students something to think about. At the end of class
he asked me to stay behind.

“Miss Kilpatrick, did you have a good weekend
down in Madisonville?”

“It was pretty good, yes. And thanks again
for taking me. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, but I’m not sure we will be
doing it again.”

“Oh?”
Well, that was rude.
“Did I do
something wrong?”

“Well, I didn’t expect you to be ogling Jason
for that much of the weekend.”

“Ogling?”

“You know. Just a few weeks ago you were
strangers and now you are having late night romps with him around
the campfire.” My mouth dropped. “Sorry, I woke up to do my camp
walkthroughs at just the wrong time for you and me.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“From my tent, it looked definitely like
that, Miss Kilpatrick. Now I’m not your father, but if I was, I
wouldn’t want you two seeing each other again.”

“My father’s dead, Mr. Peet, so I guess I
don’t have to listen to him.” His eyes widened. “And Jason actually
listened to me, one of the first people down here to open their
ears and eyes and paid attention.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He listened to me,” I repeated. “Maybe you
should do that from time to time.”

“Listen? To you?”

“To anyone. Open your eyes, Mr. Peet.”

“And what, pray tell, have I secluded myself
from, Miss Kilpatrick? Please, enlighten me with your
intelligence.”

“Did you hear how the men mocked you for
believing the war was about slavery? I mean, haven’t they ever read
a history book? Why in the heck would anyone think differently? But
you hardly stood up for what you thought, which I was waiting on.
You could have said something more, defended yourself through some
historical jargon, something.”

“I’ve fought that battle on more occasions
than you know, Miss Kilpatrick. I fight it every day when I step
into this room and sometimes it’s one I can’t win. Some people
choose not to be educated. Ignorance is bliss for them.”

I stood up. “And speaking of not being
educated, have you not noticed your daughter is becoming a woman
right before your eyes? She has feelings for Hunter, even though
you said she’s not really into boys yet, but you didn’t see them
dance.”

He glared at me. “I’ve seen them dance on
many occasions together, but they’re kids, kids that don’t know
about love.”

“She may be a kid, but not for long, and
you’re missing out on her life because you can’t get over your
love. You haven’t looked into yourself for a long time, not in a
very long time.”
God, was I really going to go there with
him
. “You keep everything walled up in that derisive attitude
of yours, but you are hurting just like the rest of us. You saw ten
seconds of me sitting with Jason and just figured I was out there
to hook up with boys, some liberal New York slut that Jody and her
gang were right about all along. But Jason was comforting me from
everything I have dealt with over the last two months of my life,
which is too much for anyone to bear. Maybe you should look for
that comfort, too, and find that heart that I’m sure you used to
have before your wife died.” I was right in front of the podium,
right in front of him.

“Get out,” he said with finality. I gave him
a hard glare before retrieving my bag and storming out of the
room.

Lunch came and went, right out of my hands
when one of Jody’s gaggle smashed my tray to the floor. I had
thought we were past this, until Jody stepped forward.

“Hey, sorry that my dad is buying up your
aunt’s little junk store, but I pointed out the location to him and
he just thought it would be great to tear down all of that crap and
build something nice instead.”

“That was you?”

“Of course,” she gleamed. “We do our best to
clean up our city from trash.” She did a quick whip of the hair and
moved on to her table, leaving me standing in front of the
mess.

Screw it!
Screw all of this mess. Why
did I ever think I could make something work out down here? I left
the food on the floor and ran back to my janitor’s closet. Sunday
had probably been one of the best days since the accident, but, oh,
what a difference a day made. Mags was losing her business, Mr.
Peet thought I was a tramp, and Jody had resumed her duties as
school despot, but this time on an enormous community scale. God, I
didn’t want to cry, not now. I picked up my phone.