Finding Hope in Texas (27 page)

“Well, of course we need to move the antiques
over there as soon as possible,” she continued.

“Mags, we can’t do that until we get the
place looking better. We need to sweep it out, get some paint on
the walls. You know, make it look presentable.

“That will be more money,” she said
quietly.

“I’ve spent $26,600 so far and got $23,400
more at my disposal. Money is not your concern, anyway, it’s mine.
By the way, how did you get all that junk, um, antiques for just
$25,000? Seems like they would have been a lot more than that.”

“Well, Mr. Lambert gave me a wholesale price
and...that was only for about two-thirds of them.” My eyebrow
lowered over my eyes, as this was news I hadn’t heard yet. “Don’t
get angry, Hope. He doesn’t even own the last third. Those are from
other people who are trying to sell their stuff in his shop. He
makes twenty-five percent off everything he sells for them.”

“And are we going to have to move them over
to the new store with all the stuff we purchased?”

“Um, I don’t know.”

“Well, have you got a list of people who own
the other antiques to see if they want to move them into the new
store?”

“Not yet,”

“Jeez, Mags.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, we need to contact all of them and see
if they even want to continue trying to sell their stuff in your
store.”

“But what if they don’t?”

“Well, I don’t know.”
Why did I have to
think of everything?
“Tell them that if they want to stay with
us that we will give them a five percent discount on everything we
sell for them for the first year.” Hopefully, we would last at
least a year.

“That’s a good idea, honey.”

“Okay, get the list tomorrow and start making
phone calls. Then after school we can go to the hardware store and
get some paint supplies and stuff like that, okay?”

“Sounds good,” Mags smiled. Her dream was
coming true little by little while my pocket book was getting
emptier. But Dad would’ve done the same thing. Maybe something not
as hair-brained as this, but he would have helped her. The money he
sent her over the years was because he cared for her, even though
he knew he would never see it again. I could only hope that this
would be the end, that she would finally get her feet on the
ground, even if old toasters surrounded them for the rest of her
life. And then in the back of my mind, I could only hope that we
would mistakenly pick Jason’s hardware store to find the paint we
needed.

Another cold day of school flew by quickly.
We even got some snow flurries around lunch, which Lizzy and I
watched from our table. It’s funny how Texans react to even the
slightest snow, like they are picturing great mounds will build up
in no time and everyone will have to hunker down until the thaw. Of
course the students just wanted to get out of school, but that was
only going to happen if the roads became hard to travel down.

“That was amazing what you did yesterday,”
she said. I looked up from my tuna casserole.

“What did I do?”

“You know,
The Ashokan Farewell
. The
only other place I’ve heard it played that well was on the Civil
War soundtrack that Dad plays.”

I smiled. “Thanks. It’s a beautiful Civil War
song.”

“It is that, but it’s not from the Civil
War.”

“No?”

“No, they used the song for the documentary,
but it was written back in the seventies or eighties or something
like that.”

“Really? That’s deceitful.”

“Yeah, but it works for the whole time
period. I mean, it just rings six hundred thousand people dead.”
The morbid joke made us both giggle. “So how are the plans with
your aunt going?”

“Well, we actually have a place now. We’ve
bought the antiques from the previous owner, but there is still
tons of stuff to do. Like tonight we’re going to go paint the
inside. Should be quite fun with no heat in there.”

“Do you need some help?”

“No, really I wasn’t asking for help, Lizzy.
Besides, your Dad doesn’t want you to hang around me, anyway.”

“Oh, who cares about that? Where is it at,
anyway?” I gave her a rough idea where it was. “That’s a good part
of town. You’ll do well there. Are you’re sure you don’t want any
help?” I shrugged not knowing what to say. “Tell you what. I’ll
meet you at your house around five.”

“What about your dad?”

She grinned. “Don’t worry about him.”

So around five that evening the three of us
took off from our house and rolled into the local hardware store. I
asked Lizzy quietly how she was able to get away from her dad for
the evening. She grinned that same grin that she had at lunch.

“Somehow he lost his notes for class tomorrow
and was going to have to spend time rewriting them,” she said,
giving me a little wink. “He was hardly listening when I said I was
going out to study with a friend.”

Lizzy, you’re so evil.

The thought of seeing Jason all day was now
front and center, but I wasn’t sure this was it. My hope began to
fade until I rounded onto the aisle with paint on it, and there he
was helping an older couple get paint down from the shelf and put
it in their cart. He wore an apron with the store logo on front and
continued talking to the couple even as we approached.

“It’s Jason,” Lizzy whispered to me as if I
didn’t see him. I stepped forward as the couple meandered down the
aisle.

“Excuse me, paint boy, but can you help us?”
His eyes darted quickly at my comical name then his handsome smile
widened across his face.

“What the...What are you doing here?” He
couldn’t help himself. His strong arms pulled me forward into him
and wrapped around me. Oh, it had only been three days and yet I
already missed his embrace. Lizzy ended up clearing her throat to
bring me back to reality.

“Um, yeah.” I pulled away. “You know Lizzy
and do you remember my aunt?”

“The young man looking for buttons,” she said
and stepped forward to shake his hand.

“That’s me. So are y’all looking for
paint?”

“We’re going to open up our own antique
store,” I said, “and we needed something to spruce the place up a
bit.”

He nodded. “Picked the colors yet?”

I handed him the paint chips. “What is the
best type of paint?”

“Probably this brand right...here.” He tapped
a gallon of it with his finger. “What are your interior walls?”

“Dry wall. Will this work on them?”

“It’s the best we have. When are you
starting?”

“Tonight, after we leave here.”

Again, he nodded. “Well, it’s a pretty slow
night up here. I can probably get off a little early if you need
any help.”

Oh, yes!
“Um,” I glanced back at Mags
who gave me a smile and a shrug at the same time. “Sure, that would
be great.”

“Cool, let me get the paint mixing for you
and I’ll tell the boss that I’ll be leaving.”

I could’ve watched him mix the paint all day.
We made small talk about my school and his work as it did, while
Mags and Lizzy acted coy and stayed away from us. Far too quickly,
the ten gallons finished mixing and Jason hoisted each five-gallon
bucket into our buggy. After he checked out for the evening, he
walked us out to our car, putting the buckets in the truck of Mags’
Ford POS and tied down the trunk door so they wouldn’t fall out.
Then he mounted his motorcycle and followed us to the store.

The four of us entered the store as the sun
was setting on the horizon, clicking the lights on to the
emptiness. Jeez, there was so much work to do besides paint. I knew
I should have just hired someone to get it done, but Mags thought
this might save money. All we could do was start on the mammoth
project and hope that it all went well. We threw down some
painter’s plastic on the concrete floor, not that it mattered too
much, and the three of us teenagers began to slosh the tan paint
upon the walls while Mags cut in the edges with the brush. We
weren’t professionals, but we weren’t doing a bad job in rolling
most of the paint on the walls from the tray. Jason put every
effort into his work.
Tom Sawyer and his whitewashing had
nothing on him as this Tom knew how to work
. Plus we were all
having a good time, laughing and enjoying each other’s company,
something I missed. Before we knew it, it was nine o’clock and
Lizzy’s cell began to ring.

“Yeah, dad, I know it’s late... I’ll be
coming home soon... No, I’m fine, just studying too much... Okay, I
love you too.” She hung up and gave me a look.

“I guess we need to get you home.”

“Yeah, sorry. Dad is about to have a
tizzy.”

Soon, we were closing shop for the evening,
having accomplished getting the first coat of paint upon the walls
before we left. Jason walked me around to my door and opened it for
me.

“So I’ll see you this weekend, right?”

“Um, yes,” I said reluctantly, remembering I
hadn’t told Mags anything about it yet. He smiled that wonderful
smile that even the darkness couldn’t blotch and gave me another
deep hug. I couldn’t help but try and look back in the side mirror
and see him as we pulled away from the small parking lot.

“So,” Mags interrupted my thought, “this
weekend? Are you and Jason going somewhere?”

“Um...”

“We’re going out to Canton on Saturday,”
announced Lizzy from the backseat. I closed my eyes in the
darkness.

“Oh, you are? And when was I going to hear
about this, Hope?”

“Saturday morning?”

“Yeah right. We’ll talk about this
later.”

Lizzy took off quickly as soon as we got
home, leaving me to defend myself, but giving me a call a half hour
later, letting me know she got home safe and sound. I wasn’t so
sure I was going to be so lucky.

“So you’re just taking off, when I need you
the most?”

“In my defense, I had made these plans before
you were going into business.”

“Still, you’re running around with that
handsome young handyman and not telling me. I mean, I know Lizzy is
a good teacher’s kid I’m sure, but I know nothing about Jason,
other than he can paint like a machine.”

“He’s a good guy, Mags. He’s a veteran and
just really nice.” For some reason I lost my adjectives to describe
him.
Good
guy
and
really
nice
would
have to suffice.

“Then I need to meet him. And not meet him
while he’s painting on the store, but actually meet-meet him.”

I gritted my teeth. “When?”

“How about dinner on Friday night, here at
the house? I’ll cook. It will be fun. Or else, you stay home on
Saturday.”

“Fine,” I relented.

That night I called Jason to give him the
head’s up about Friday.

“Dinner? Yeah, I guess I can do that. What
time?”

“Is seven okay?”

“Sounds good to me. I guess I should feel
lucky.”

I laughed sarcastically. “Lucky? By spending
your Friday night with a crazy girl and her crazy aunt?”

“You’re not crazy,” he said sternly. “No, I’m
lucky because I get to see you three times this week. Tonight was
fun hanging out with y’all. I wish I had more times like that in my
life. Friday will be fun too, you’ll see.” I could nearly hear his
smile on the phone.

“I hope you’re right.”

“Trust me, sweetie. I’ll see you Friday
night.”

Oh, I trust you, just keep calling me
sweetie.
“Okay. Until then.”

“I can’t wait.”

All I could think about for the rest of the
week was Friday night. What did Mags have to prove, anyway? She had
run out on her family with a half-dozen men, but now had to meet
and talk with the guy that meant so much to me. Talk about
hypocrisy. Was she now going to play
mom
and make sure I was
spending my valuable time with people she approved of? Jeez, I
hoped not. First of all, she didn’t have the right. Secondly, mom
would’ve liked Jason. Not for his good looks or for serving our
country, which were both pluses, but because he was a fighter. He
came from little and fought tooth and nail to keep his head above
water throughout high school, through his stint in Iraq, and now
working. Mom appreciated those aspects in people and so did I. It
was the fighters that built our nation and kept it out of the hands
of those that were greedy or lazy or anything in between. Without
people like them, our country would have been in a bigger mess than
it already gotten itself into.

Mom’s old car arrived Friday afternoon and
was unloaded as we got home. I had to sign a few papers about
ownership and what not and then the guy handed me the keys and said
it was all mine. It was a beautiful thing, just as I remembered. A
black Lexus GS that made Mags’ POS look that much more POSier.
Still, as I stood there, I could feel all the memories come back,
all of what I had lost.

“Come inside,” said Mags softly, “you don’t
want to catch a cold out here.”

I nodded and followed her in, placing the
keys up on the hanger next to hers.

Mags was in the middle of making spaghetti
when the doorbell rang. I jumped up from the sofa and rushed over
to find Jason standing there in black slacks and a polo shirt. God,
he looked great, and I’m sure my mouth gaped open just a little by
looking at him. This wasn’t Civil War reenactor Jason or hardware
store Jason, this was
I’m going to impress your aunt
Jason.

“Hey,” is all I could get out.

“Hey to you.”

“W...Would you like to come in?”

“Beats standing out here in the cold.”

I smiled and took a step back as he entered,
but not letting my eyes off of him. “Can anything I get you?”
Did I just sound like
Yoda?
“I mean, can I get you
anything?”

“No, I’m good. I actually brought these,” he
pulled a bouquet of flowers out from behind him. “I stole them from
the garden center at work.” He winked. “Just kidding.”