Good Hope Road by Lisa Wingate

night.”
    “I’m all right.”
    She smiled again, a fluttery smile, like she had a butterfly caught in her teeth. “We got over to Weldon and Janet’s all right. No damage over at their house.”
    I didn’t know what to say. I wished she would walk off so I could go back into the armory and not have to remember yesterday. “I’m . . . um . . . sorry about your house.”
    She shrugged and set the other bowl of chili on the steps, then turned around to lean against the cement dock beside me. “Don’t matter. I wouldn’t care if I lost a hundred houses, so long as all the kids are all right. I’ve lost things in my life, and I’ve lost people. I’ve come to know it’s the people that matter. Anyway, there are lots of folks worse off than me. It’s good to remember that.”
    “Um-hmm,” I said, looking at the chili and feeling a lump in my throat. I didn’t think I could eat anything.
    “How about your brothers? Have you heard any news?”
    I shook my head, setting the chili on the armory steps. “I better get back in there with Doc,” I said, feeling tears start to prickle. It doesn’t help anything to cry.
    She reached across the space between us and took my hand in hers, then covered it with her other hand. “You’re a brave girl, Jenilee Lane,” she said, just as she had the day before. “You done a brave thing saving me and Lacy yesterday. I want to thank you for that. Not everyone would of done it. Who’d of thought that—”
    She stopped, and our eyes met for an instant. I looked at her gray hair, coming out of its bun in curly wisps, and her face, wrinkled from years in the sun, and her eyes, blue-violet behind her eyeglasses. Her breath seemed to be caught behind the overhang of her chest, hiding the rest of what she was going to say—the part she thought she maybe shouldn’t say now, after everything that had happened. What she would have said a day ago, without a second thought.
    Who would of thought one of you Lanes would help somebody out?
    I pulled my hand out of hers and turned away, muttering, “I better go help in the armory. I’m not really hungry.” Rushing up the steps, I left her.
    I knew if she looked at me, really looked at me, she would see the truth—that I wasn’t anything like her and Mr. Nelson, Weldon and Doc Howard. I was only there because I was afraid to be anywhere else, because I didn’t want to be alone. It hadn’t occurred to me to bring blankets, or cook food, or search our cabinets for medicine and bandages.
    But I imagine, deep down, she knew all of that about me, just like everyone else did. They knew we Lanes didn’t do anything just to be charitable, and I was still Jenilee Lane, a grown-up version of the little girl they all whispered about behind their hands. Poor little thing doesn’t have any upbringing. Her mama’s been sick since she was just little, that farm’s falling in around their ears, and that father of hers, well, he’s . . . The descriptions would vary. They called him everything from a no-good drunk to a criminal.
    I knew that as soon as these days passed, things would go back to the way they were before, and they would say those same words again. Words like that don’t go away just because a tornado blows through town.
    I heard Mrs. Gibson coming after me, her feet scrunching heavily in the gravel as she walked around to the steps. I knew she was right behind me with the two bowls of chili.
    She caught up with me just inside the door. She looked past me instead of at me, and shifted her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. What she hadn’t said hung between us. Both of us heard it.
    She straightened her back and puffed out a determined sigh. “Jenilee Lane, you take a break and eat this food,” she scolded, then turned to Doc Howard, who was standing nearby. “You too, Doc.”
    Doc Howard accepted a bowl, sinking wearily into a chair to eat. He looked pale and his hands were shaking as he lifted the spoon to his