by Jaime Berry
“It’s just, well, it seems like you guys move a lot. Why would you want to help?” She looked straight at me, right into my eyes. And I decided to tell her a little of the whole truth.
“I hope we don’t move anytime soon. Everyone’s been so nice. I’d like to give something back.” As I said it, I hoped with every inch of me that this wouldn’t be a parting gift.
She jumped up. “You just gave me an idea. Like my dad says, strike while the griddle’s hot.” She clapped her hands the way a gym teacher would. “Let’s go.”
Taking her lead, we parked our bikes in front of Hope Springs Hardware.
I was so nervous, I straightened my skirt four times before Abby said, “Don’t worry. He likes you too.” Then she walked in and left me frozen on the sidewalk for several seconds before following her.
Colton was arranging a pyramid of power drills right beside the front door. On the display was another sign for 20 percent off. Sale signs were stationed all over the store and taped on the windows too. Colton nodded at us when we walked in.
“What’s with all the sales?” Abby asked.
“SmartMart coming. Dad wants to build up customer loyalty,” he said, and continued stacking boxes.
“Speaking of SmartMart. We have a plan to save Hope Springs,” I said.
“You want in?” Abby asked.
He lowered the box he held and gave us his full attention.
“Jubilee had an idea back at the house. Tell him.” Abby nodded at me.
“You know how the high school always has pep rallies for teams with a big game coming up? Helps everybody feel good. Gives them hope, especially when they’re facing someone with a way better record?”
Colton nodded.
“Well, what if we did something like that for the town?” I asked.
“Almost every kid I know spends part of Saturday at Griggs’ Rigs Racing,” Abby said.
“What if we got businesses to have booths, got some restaurants to set up a few stands and sell food, and maybe some giveaways or a contest?” I added.
“Cheer everyone up and remind them to shop local. You think your dad would go for it?” Abby asked.
Colton nodded again.
“It’ll take some signs, community outreach, organizing, and planning. But I think we could do it. And maybe my mom could help.” Abby switched to a whisper. “I’m even thinking of bottling up free samples of my dip bait.”
“My brothers and I can handle the booths. Take just the cost of the lumber,” he said. That was a yes! I bit my lip to keep a squeal from escaping. “But charge for the dip bait,” Colton added.
Abby whooped, high-fived Colton, and then gave me a hug. We planned to meet the next evening at the One Stop and work out the details, given Colton’s dad agreed. I was so excited and full of jitters the rest of the afternoon that Nan suggested we lay off the marshmallows.
The next morning, I arrived at the Fabric Barn a little late because Wynn insisted I eat breakfast. With as few words as possible, I asked him to drive me to the One Stop later in the evening and he agreed. Things were stiff between us, and the apron still sat all wrapped up on the kitchen counter.
He dropped me off, and before I reached the door of the Fabric Barn, I could hear Holly yelling. I rushed forward and was almost knocked over by a man fleeing. Holly burst out after him, holding a broom over her head and yelling, “Don’t you dare come back! I’m calling every business in town to let them know what you look like. Some carry more than brooms, mister!”
The man ran across the street, jumped into a burgundy sedan, and peeled out down Main Street.
“Thief or old friend?” I asked.
“Ha! I think he was a SmartMart scout,” she said and began sweeping the sidewalk in front of the store. “Had a notebook, taking notes on your ‘best sellers’ display. My brother called yesterday and said something similar happened at the hardware store and gave me a description of the same guy. Also said you kids were scheming something fierce in the front of the store.” Sounded like Mr. Griggs talked a lot more than his son and had a bad case of paranoia in common with his sister.
I shrugged, not ready to let her in on the plan yet.
“Now I have to call every local business and tell them about this scout. Stop him before he does his dirty work.” She smacked the broom three times before going inside.
I followed. “I’ll do it, Holly.”
She stopped and eyed me suspiciously. “All right. I have a good old-fashioned phone book under the counter.”
I scribbled down a script to fight off my nerves. The first call on the list was the one I was most worried about.
My fingers shook as I dialed.
“Hope Springs Hardware,” a voice I knew was Colton’s answered.
“Hi, Colton. It’s Jubilee. Did your dad say yes?” I asked.
“Yep,” he said.
“Okay. Well, I’ll start calling other businesses.”
“Okay,” he said.
“See you later.” I waited.
“Yep,” he said again and then hung up. If he liked me, he sure wasn’t showing it with words.
I pushed buttons and all thoughts of Colton out of my head—at least I tried to—and dialed every auto supply, hair salon, pharmacy, antique store, grocery, and diner in town. Every business, whether I thought they’d be affected or not, got a call. I asked if they’d be interested in participating in the first-ever Celebrate Hope Springs Rally at Griggs’ Rigs Racing.
When Holly noticed I wasn’t bringing up any theories about SmartMart scouts, she came over with a slight scowl, but as she listened in, her smile grew with each call I made. I kept a list of businesses that said yes, promising to get back to them soon with more details.
When I hung up, Holly stood right beside me looking ready for a hug. Instead, I asked, “Holly Paine, as a local business owner, would you be interested in participating in the first Celebrate Hope Springs Rally?”
She shook her head, her smile spreading even wider. “You are full of surprises. A rally is just the boost this town needs. But I’m still calling to warn people about that scout.” She picked up the phone again, but then paused and said, “I thought you were a dedicated Arletta Paisley and SmartMart supporter. What’s changed your mind?”
I thought about her question for a minute. I couldn’t say it was only because of Abby, or because Colton agreed to help, or that planning and working on something with the two of them felt about a hundred million times better than doing it alone. So I said, “I don’t think it’s going to make that much difference to SmartMart one way or the other. But I do think it’s important for the people of Hope Springs to be reminded of what they already have, instead of what new thing might be further down the road. And if Arletta believes what she says on her shows, I think she’d be proud of what Abby and Colton and I are doing. Plus, I’ve got a lifetime of free fabric on the line.” I winked to let her know I was only half joking.
Holly laughed. “Well, you’re right about that, I guess.”
Before I left that day, Holly loaded me up with vintage fabric she had left from her opening year. I knew those bolts were special to her, and she knew they’d be special to me. She walked me to the door. “Now that the back looks so much better, I’ve decided to start teaching classes again. First one is in three days. I’d be less nervous with you there, but I understand if you’re busy.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” She hugged me again and waved from the door as I piled into Wynn’s truck with all my loot.
The front seat was so filled with fabric and country music and Wynn’s singing that I wondered if he’d noticed I hadn’t said a word during our rides for the past few days.
“So, what are you up to lately?” he asked.
I stared out the window. “Same old, same old.”
“Doesn’t seem like same old to me,” he said. “Seems a little different.”
I bit my lip and stayed quiet the rest of the ride. As soon as the truck rolle
d to a stop, I jumped out and ran for the house. Nan stood by the front windows like she’d been waiting for us.
I swung open the front door, and there was my new bike, all set up in the living room like a little kid’s Christmas present. Wynn had attached the basket, and a matching aqua ribbon wove its way through the basket’s top lattice and ended in a bow right in the front. Even in pieces I’d known the bike was going to look amazing, but it looked better than I’d imagined, better than perfect.
“You like it?” Nan asked. “Wynn put it together. I’m only responsible for the ribbon.”
“I love it,” I said. I gave her a gentle hug, and before I knew it, I was giving Wynn a squeeze too.
Top-to-Bottom Right
When I took my bike on its first spin, my hair blew in my face as wild primroses and bluebells flashed pink and purple along the fence. Texas Red Oaks lined our road and dappled the hills, and the summer trill of bugs and sweet grass filled the air. That gussied-up bike was a new kind of freedom.
Wynn was right. It was different here. I was different here.
The gravel crackled under my wheels as I braked in our driveway. With one foot on the ground and the other resting on my bike, I took a minute to stare at our raggedy little rental and felt so full of hope that I wanted to stand there and feel like that forever. But there was a meeting to prepare for. I stopped short as soon as I stepped foot inside.
Wynn and Nan waited in the living room. Nan wore makeup, her skinniest, blackest jeans, and her biggest hoop earrings. She must have let Wynn fix her hair, because the style looked a little too similar to his own. Wynn wore dark jeans and a white Western shirt with bright yellow panels surrounded by brown piping, paired with matching brown leather boots. Hair gel, perfume, aftershave, and a hint of shoe polish almost knocked me over.
“Wow,” I said, looking between the two of them. I knew Nan and Wynn shared a past, but it looked like they shared a sense of fashion too. “Wow.” It was a double wow kind of situation.
Nan smiled. “Wynn says he’d like to take us out for dinner to Frank Standridge’s place downtown. Won’t it be nice to go out for a change?”
Wynn gave me a one-sided smile. That wasn’t the deal we made on the way home, and he knew it. I was supposed to come home, wash up, eat with them, and then he’d agree to drive me—and only me—to meet with Abby and Colton. It was a business meeting, not a dinner date. He was up to something.
“I thought it’d be fun for the whole family to go,” he said. That word—family—almost took my breath away. Was that what we were? Me and Nan and Wynn.
Nan said, “Why don’t you go freshen up? And then we’ll head out.” She looked better than she had since her fall, and maybe happier than I’d seen her in a long while. I’d no option but to go to my room to get ready.
On the drive to town, Wynn looked over at Nan and said, “You remember that time Clay and I rode our bikes straight through old man Hodges’s yard and into his pool?”
She laughed. “I do. As I recall, it was in the middle of his daughter’s birthday party?”
“Well, a stunt like that requires an audience,” Wynn said. He glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Clay was a lot like you, Jubilee—full of ideas. But he didn’t talk about them much. I think he liked to open his heart more than his mouth.”
Clay was my dad’s name. Clayton, really. Nan rarely talked about him, and only if I asked. I didn’t ask often, because I thought remembering made her heart ache. Something about this particular memory made her shake her head, stifle a laugh, and stare out the window with a wide smile—like the opposite of an ache, more like a relief.
I looked up front at Wynn, driving and smiling in that same kind of comforted way. I’d always thought of him as getting in the middle of things, squeezing between me and everyone I cared about. But maybe he was more like glue trying to hold everyone together.
The One Stop was packed, with only three barstools open at the counter. Wynn decided Nan wouldn’t be comfortable without back support, a claim she denied, but then agreed to wait for a booth all the same. We stood by the cash register until Abby’s dad exited the kitchen wearing a stained apron and a backward baseball cap.
“You must be the famous Nan.” He wiped a hand on his apron before offering it to her. “And you must be the equally famous Wynn.”
“We’ve really enjoyed getting to know Abby,” Wynn said, giving him a hearty handshake. “She’s a good friend to our Jubilee.”
OUR Jubilee! The more those two words rang in my head, the more I thought about family. It didn’t have to be only me and Nan. Wynn rested his palm on my back. When I met his eye, he gave me a wide smile.
Abby’s dad took Nan by the arm and led her to a booth. A booth! Nan and I were always seated at tables, booths being reserved for parties bigger than two. All of a sudden, it seemed like the air conditioner had quit working. Happiness heated me up until my fingertips tingled. I glanced over at Nan to see if she felt the same. Her smile told me she did.
“I know you’ve had a rough introduction, so let’s make this your official welcome to Hope Springs. I say you start with dessert and work your way backward. I have a marshmallow chocolate cream pie that’s to die for,” Abby’s dad said. Nan nodded, and I could tell she was impressed. Though I didn’t want her to be reminded of going backward, I wondered if Abby’d mentioned Nan’s marshmallow affinity or if the whole Standridge family was simply double-dosed with some sort of sixth sense when it came to hospitality.
Wynn offered Nan a seat, and I hoped all this princess treatment was softening her opinion of Hope Springs. Despite Abby’s dad’s suggestion, we each picked a main course to start. Nan and I chose the chicken-fried steak, and Wynn ordered bacon-wrapped meatloaf. The food was so good, we barely said a word to each other while we ate.
When Wynn finished, he rubbed his stomach and said, “I like it here. Not just the restaurant, but the whole town. You know what it reminds me of? A smaller version of Tullahoma, Tennessee. Don’t you think, Nan?”
She finished her last bite and slid the plate forward. “My word, I think I haven’t left any room for that pie. Frank was right; I should have worked backward.” She skillfully ignored Wynn’s question. Tullahoma was where Momma and Wynn had grown up, where my daddy had gone to high school, and where I was born.
Wynn went on, unfazed. “I bet we can find some room,” he said and motioned to our waiter. “Three slices of the marshmallow chocolate cream pie, please.”
“So, Jubilee, what’s this I hear about you organizing some kind of rally?” Nan asked. “Miss Esther stopped by this afternoon and said you’d called everybody in town. Frankly, I think she’s miffed she wasn’t included. Believe me, the woman knows every soul, living and passed on, in the whole county.” From the look on Nan’s face, Miss Esther wasn’t the only one miffed at being left out.
“I was going to tell you, Nan,” I said. “Everybody in town is worked up about the SmartMart opening. Holly’s dead-determined that Arletta Paisley’s out to close her business. So, Abby and I thought it would be nice to have sort of a get-together to remind everyone to support local stores. You know, make them feel better,” I said. “We need all the help we can get.”
Nan softened a bit. “If you need my help, sweetheart, I’m here to give it.” Nan always went along with my projects, but this rally was worlds different than putting up removable wallpaper or braiding our own rag rugs.
The waiter arrived with three slices of pie and said, “Dessert is on the house.”
“See?” Wynn said. “Can’t beat a place that gives out free pie.”
“But it’s not like you to get so wrapped up in local concerns,” Nan said, fixing me with her eyes. This was exactly why I hadn’t told her about the rally in the first place.
“I think it’s great to get involved. Being part of a community is what makes a place a home,” Wynn chirped and then avoided Nan’s glare. Nan and I never called any place we lived our home; it was always
“this town” or “this place”—sometimes something worse.
Nan shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It was hard to tell if it was her ribs bothering her or the conversation.
“I’m just worried, that’s all.” She gave me a long look, and I could tell exactly what she was thinking. She’d taught me to always think of a way out, an escape route, and getting this deep into something made getting back out a whole lot trickier.
Just then, Garfield burst through the door and yelled, “Daddy! I need a milkshake and some bacon, STAT.” Harrison followed closely behind, holding Abby’s hand, and their mother herded the group forward.
Abby motioned me over to an empty booth by the kitchen.
“Go on,” Nan said. “I’m a little worn out.”
“I’ll come get you in about an hour,” Wynn said as he helped Nan out of the booth.
Nan waved to Abby’s mom and said, “Tell Frank that’s the best dinner I’ve had in years.” If only each bite had pushed the maps further and further out of her mind.
Nan touched my arm, and that worried look washed over her face again. “I’m gonna call it a night. So, I’ll see you in the morning. Maybe we could spend a little time together?” I nodded.
“See you soon,” Wynn said. Then he leaned in and whispered, “Hard to think things won’t work out after a meal like that.” He waved as they left, and I watched him help Nan into our car.
As soon as I sat down, Abby slid across from me and mumbled, “Mom found out SmartMart got some incentive plan from the governor. They got the land at a reduced cost and don’t have to pay the full property tax. I’ve never seen her so mad. She thinks they’ll hire locals, work them just enough to avoid paying health insurance, and not give much of anything back to the town, aside from cheap goods and low-paying jobs.”
“What’s she going to do?” I asked.
“Not much she can do.” Abby shrugged. “Just have to hope people don’t shop there much. SmartMart can only do a lot of damage if we help them out.”
I looked out the window and down Main Street with its line of parallel storefronts, one right up against the other. Through the glass, the setting sun painted all downtown in a golden glow. A familiar red double-cab truck rumbled up, and Colton hopped out wearing a grass-green John Deere T-shirt and a pair of faded jeans with a hole in the knee. Mr. Griggs stuck his head out the window and waved to him. I was in such a daze, I waved back.