Finding Hope in Texas

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Finding Hope in Texas Page 24

by Ryan T. Petty


  “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 b
e. 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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