Finding Hope in Texas (32 page)

“Hope, we’ve had a pretty good time tonight,
but missed you here, baby girl. We’re all rooting for you to do
well at your recital tomorrow. I’ll be filming there, too.” His
face grew solemn and I knew some fatherly advice was about to come
my way. “Remember, sweetie, always practice hard in whatever you
are doing. Like Tyler has, you’ve made us very proud and I know you
will do your very best, not just tomorrow, but forever. I...We love
you very much.”

“Love you, Hope,” I heard Mom say.

“Me, too, Sis,” repeated Tyler.

“Alright, sweetie. We’ll see you in the
morning.” The camera flipped around again, back to the empty
basketball court and then went off.

It was if everything went numb in me for a
moment, or maybe there were so many emotions I didn’t know how to
read them all. I could hear Mags trying to hold back tears next to
me, the first time I had seen her shed tears for our family, her
hand still tightly wound around mine. I stared back at the fuzz
that was the TV screen and then caught the eyes of Jason on my
opposite side. He looked as if he was waiting for me to say
something, to have some reaction, but I just stared at him, looking
for anything to get me through this, as he had done before. He had
a tear in the corner of his eye and gulped before he opened his
mouth to speak.

“I was right,” he muttered.

“About what?” I weakly asked. He smiled that
ever-so-handsome smile.

“They were lucky to have you. I could see it
in your dad’s eyes. You meant the world to him. He was happy.
They
were happy.”

I finally took a breath, giving a fragile
smile through my tears as Jason circled his arm around me, allowing
me to find solace against his shoulder. Ever since that night we
sat around the fire, he had turned into my rock and was what held
me together. After a moment, I looked up.

“They were happy people. They made me happy,
just like you do. Just like all of you do.” I looked around at the
room at the people who were strangers to me mere weeks ago, but
accepted me in so many ways. Whether it was giving me a new home, a
place to sit in a crowded lunchroom, a class that actually tested
my academic capabilities, or a love that I never knew existed, I
owned them so much more than I ever felt I could give back. I had
once believed that the move to Texas was the worst mistake I had
ever made, but here, here is where I found hope again. This is what
I needed. I had found myself again.

* * * *

Weeks passed and our store stayed in
business. I could hardly believe that we had been so lucky.
Overall, I had spent nearly forty-five thousand dollars on the
place and gave the last five to Mags to have as a money roll. My
help didn’t stop there, as most days after school I manned the
store until closing. Mags always joked that working would keep me
out of trouble from that rebel of a boyfriend of mine, and for the
most part, she was probably right. Of course I could’ve said the
same thing about her and Mr. Peet, who I caught on more than one
occasion, necking in the back office.
Gross!

The Texas winter made its last hurrah the
second week of March, right before spring break, and provided
crisp, cool air close to freezing for a couple days. By that
weekend, however, it was like we had been transplanted to the
Sahara as the Gulf Stream brought the temperature up to the
mid-eighties without warning. Only in Texas did you need a heavy
coat one day and a pair of shorts the next. I guess I would need to
get used to its volatility. Still, it was perfect timing, since Mr.
Peet, Lizzy, and I talked Mags into going to her first reenactment
down in Mexia. Still, Mags only went by getting herself a motel
room in town. I’m not sure she appreciated the whole event or even
understood why someone would want to join in the hobby, but she did
tell me that Mr. Peet was handsome in his captain’s uniform.
Ick!
And although she didn’t want to, by Saturday evening we
had talked her into wearing a hoopskirt and going to the dance with
the rest of us. How could she turn down a fake captain, anyway?

“Now remember your gentlemanly etiquette, Mr.
Peet,” I reminded him.

“Miss Kilpatrick,” he reached around and
slapped Mags’ backside with his hand, which caused all of our eyes
to widen, “is that enough etiquette for you?”
Jeez, middle-aged
men, what can you do?

My weekend was spent with Jason, of course.
His leg didn’t bother him as much as it did at Madisonville. At the
dance that evening, he led in so many waltzes and reels that we
lost count.
God, can he dance
. He said if it weren’t for me,
he probably wouldn’t have had the energy, not that I took that so
seriously. He had to be getting better physically, and I knew that
was helping him deal with the emotional pain of war as well.
Watching him being so strong, his limp barely noticeable, him
flashing his pearly whites at jokes, at me, it just made me so
happy. He was coming back to life right before my eyes, and in the
same regard, he was bringing me back with him. My Tom Sawyer and I
were making it out of the cave, and there were no killer Indians in
sight.

Mags was acting, maybe not as a mother, but
at least as an adult, working with her store harder than I’d ever
known her to work before and making sure I kept my nose to the
grindstone in school. She began to use business and management
skills that I never knew existed in her. There was a passion in her
eye, a glimpse of accomplishment, even after the hardest days with
the smallest of sales. Maybe, for the first time, I was feeling
respect for her as an aunt and as someone who was giving far more
effort than what she was receiving from some horrible man she was
stalking across the country. Dad would have been so proud to see
her like this. It made me smile every time I thought about it. I
knew he would have been proud of me, too, for not giving up on her
like everyone else had done.

Thank you, Daddy, for caring for your sister
so that she would be there for me when I needed her.

Mr. Peet, well, continued to be Mr. Peet in
class. The sarcasm never let up when he lectured over all the
hypocrisy in history. Still, he continued to make it interesting,
which was no easy task. It was probably easier for him because his
first name wasn’t Coach. Okay, so maybe his class had made me more
sardonic, as well. But as he and Mags got to know each other, he
also began to change in my eyes, too, from the shutoff, abrasive
reenactor, to someone whose emotions were deeper than a thimble. It
was nearly funny to watch them kiss on the front porch like
teenagers again. It didn’t even bother me when he’d try to give me
advice in life. That’s what teachers are supposed to do, right? Mr.
Peet was finding himself again, lost after so many years in his
grief. Lizzy noticed it as well, commenting on how her father sang
around the house, something she had never heard him do before. He
even gave a heated lecture at the Jefferson reenactment on slavery
in the Civil War to some states’ rights reenactors.
Go, Mr.
Peet!
At that same reenactment, he proposed to Mags and she
said, “Yes!”

They were planning for a traditional wedding
the next fall. Mom always told me there was good in all people; you
just had to find it. Mom, you were right! I’m glad Mr. Peet found
his again.

Lizzy was quickly becoming the sister I never
had, which having a sister is interesting, to say the least. We
planned on moving in with her and Mr. Peet after the wedding.
Still, I didn’t know how much of a gossip I was until I became
close with another girl my age. We told each other everything—what
teachers were good, which ones weren’t, where we were looking to go
to college and how our lives would’ve never come together if not
for her inviting some sad, lonely girl to sit down with her at the
loser’s table. Plus, it was always fun playing our dueling cornet
and violin making great music together. Tyler’s place in my heart
was never refilled, but Lizzy’s presence always gave me the
satisfaction of knowing that there were young people just as great
as he was.
Thank you, Tyler, for being my brother. Thank you,
Lizzy, for being my sister.

Jason took me to prom as promised, dancing
the night away and looking so striking in his tuxedo. We actually
did get the limo with Jody and Brad, and over time she became a
friend as well. It was better than wanting me dead! Jason began
talking about using his GI Bill educational benefit and enrolled in
a technical school, working to be the mechanic that he’d always
wanted to be. He and Mike have been asked to serve as Mr. Peet’s
best men during the wedding, and he has continued to be
my
best man.

I am so looking forward to the summer,
though, so we can spend all of our extra time together. We were
still each other’s rock. When one of us began to dwell on our past,
the other would pull the backslider back from the brink. I loved my
family so much that their loss had nearly destroyed me and if it
wasn’t for him, it probably would have. I never made it to the
point of staring at a gun like Mr. Peet had done, but I hadn’t been
too far away, either. Jason’s love, his understanding, has given me
the power to survive, to live for them like they would’ve wanted me
to. I love him for that, for helping me find my way back from
despair.
Thank you, Jason. Thank you for loving me, a love I
never thought I would have again in my life.

I knew that next year I’d miss Mr. Peet’s
class once I got Coach Muscles for government, but I figured I’d
get enough of him once we moved in. My family could never be
replaced, but the people that had made me part of their lives were
some of the most loving people I had ever known. I did plan on
going back to New York occasionally, dragging Jason along with me
as support. Over time, the memories there would become simply that,
memories of a former life, but my home was in Texas now. It was
where all my loved ones were, the ones that would be there for my
ups and downs through the coming years. They would be there when I
graduated next year, when I learned where I’d be going to college,
and when I entered law school someday. I could only hope that Jason
would be there to love me forever, making me the happiest woman on
earth. No, I couldn’t replace my family and I would miss them for
the rest of my life, but I could live for them; I could tell my
future children how great their family was.

Jason, my Tom Sawyer, had found me, scared
and lonely in the cave, but he had brought me back into the light.
He’d shown me that there was a place for me, Hope, in Texas, and
he’d showed me how to love again.

About the Author

Ryan T.
Petty
is a thirteen-year high school social studies teacher in
a small town in northeast Texas and an adjunct history professor at
a local junior college. He grew up in the country and started doing
Civil War reenactments as a hobby at the age of sixteen, traveling
across East Texas and surrounding states and participating in
national events such as Shiloh, Chickamauga, and Gettysburg. He
graduated from college with a master’s degree in history in
2011.
Finding Hope in Texas
is his second novel. His first,
a historical fiction, won the Pinnacle Book Achievement Award in
2012. Ryan is married to his wife, Megan, and they have two boys
together.

www.ryanpettybooks.blogspot.com

[email protected]

www.facebook.com/ryan.petty.988

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