Page 44 of Possibly Texas

“Just this morning,” Sofia announced.

The three men with her made “oooooh” and “awwwww” sounds. Then the four of them began speaking excitedly, making it impossible to tell what one person was saying from another. Auggie watched them all intently and my eyes flitted between him and the group of people in front of the post office. Finally, when it became apparent that Auggie wasn’t nearly as nosy as I, and the people in outside of the post office weren’t going to settle down long enough for me to figure out what was going on, I stepped up to address them.

“Hey!” I exclaimed, and all four of them suddenly stopped talking to look over at me. “Uh, what’s going on?”

Sofia and Levi smiled at me. Luckily, Wyatt’s gun was in its holster, so he didn’t address me in his own special way.

“Well, hon,” Sofia said, “we got another letter to Shirlene today.”

“A Shirlene letter?” I asked.

“Yes.” Levi Lee nodded. “Sofia said it was slipped into the mail slot sometime during the night. We’re still trying to figure out who Shirlene is and who’s in love with her. That’s all.”

Starbuck nodded along solemnly.

“Where is it?” I asked.

“Hung up on the wall with the others, of course.” Sofia hooked a thumb over her shoulder.

I glanced over my shoulder at Auggie and he simply shrugged. The other four people began talking excitedly once more. So, I sidestepped their discussion group and pushed through the front door of the post office. Auggie was right on my heels.

It wasn’t hard to find the letter in question, as Sofia had tacked it dead center in the middle of all of the others. Though, unlike the other letters, it wasn’t nearly as long. My eyes scanned the script, reading it over and over.

Shirlene.

My hope is renewed and my love lives again.

That was all.

Jeez. I thought to myself. These people will get excited about anything.

Jack wasn’t very talkative at dinner, but that was nothing new. He’d stopped working on his project in the backyard and even typed out on his cell phone that he had finished it, then made dinner for us. But he wasn’t in the mood to talk much other than that single note before dinner. Well, that’s not entirely true. Jack’s culinary skills were definitely not those of a Michelin Star chef, so dinner had been boxed mac and cheese with chopped up hot dogs in it and canned green beans warmed up. Food’s food to me, but Jack had pointed at his plate during dinner and made an “OK?” sign. I had let him know that it was fine and did the job of filling my belly.

Boxed mac and cheese with green beans definitely wasn’t the worst meal I’d had in my entire life. Living in motels with mom for a decade meant that beef jerky or potato chips from a vending machine qualified as dinner at times. Maybe Jack only knew how to make things like chili, cucumber salad, and meals from a box—things with few ingredients and minimal creativity—but at least effort was put forth. I’d gladly eat Jack’s simple meals over anything that came from a vending machine any day of the week.

After dinner, I offered to put up the leftovers—not that there were too many—and clean up. So, Jack sat in his chair and turned on some old T.V. show. The Jeffersons, I think. By the time I had cleaned up everything in the kitchen—which hadn’t taken all that long—Jack was fast asleep in his chair. He’d obviously had a hard day finishing up his table project in the backyard. Instead of waking him up to let him know he should move to his bed and avoid a crick in his neck when he woke up, I turned off all of the lights and went upstairs. I left the T.V. on so he wouldn’t wake up in the dark.

The sun was barely setting when I stripped off my shorts and t-shirt and crawled on top of the covers, since my third-floor room was still a little stuffy. It made no difference to me that it wasn’t quite bedtime. I was exhausted for some reason.

The excitement of the Shirlene letter. I thought to myself with a smile.

Staying up for hours to watch the lights at the barn wasn’t even a thought in my head, I was so tired. Besides, since I’d seen the inside of the barn, the lights didn’t fascinate me like they did the first few nights. Before my eyes shut and I could fall into dreamland, my phone lit up on my bedside table, casting its pale blue glow on the ceiling.

Wondering if maybe my mom had been able to get a text or call through—now that I knew a signal was possible in Possibly—heh—I snatched my phone from the table. I propped myself up on one elbow sleepily as I stared down at the screen.

Wanna go to church with me tomorrow? It’s at The Pueblo.

It was from Auggie. I had programmed his number into my phone earlier in the day since I finally had it.

Did I want to go to church? Yikes.

Spending so much time on the road with my mom, we’d never really belonged to a church. I’m sure, back when Mom and I had lived in Possibly with Jack—back when I was too young to even form a lasting memory—we had probably gone to church once or twice. Maybe Mom had even taken me to church a few times during that first year on the road together. However, when I searched my brain, I couldn’t form a picture in my head of what the inside of a church looked like—at least not one I’d ever visited for services.

In a few places in America—especially in the southwest—I’d ventured into a lot of old churches that had been around since the founding of the towns in which they were located. They were tourist-y things to do, though. I hadn’t gone to, like, commune with God or anything. I mean, if I was looking for God—which I wasn’t, thank you very much—the last place I would have looked was a church. The places were kind of creepy. Or sterile. Depending on how old they were.

A weird thought entered my head. If I wasn’t looking for God, why was someone like Auggie looking for him? With his weird clothes and skipping…I mean, well, you’d think someone like Auggie would have been avoiding church and God as much as possible. I didn’t want to make assumptions about my new friend, but guys like him usually avoided church-y people.

Then again, you are in Possibly. Things are different here. I had thought to myself.