High Heels & Horsepower

By Tim Lee

This story is for anyone who is a gearhead or has an interest in cars on some level. It has strong female characters and should be inspiring in some way to those who decide to read it.
Carrie "C.J." Baker is a girl who loves cars and enjoys working on them, doing custom airbrushing and other things. She is a teen in high school and encounters those who feel that only men should work in automotive-related jobs. She perseveres and focuses on succeeding, and does succeed, despite the unpleasant things that happen in her life, such as the death of her father after they are hit by a drunk driver.
This story is for those who believe they control their destiny, and believe in themselves like C.J. believes in herself.
One must continue pushing forward despite the negativity and setbacks they encounter.
Giving up should never be an option.
For those who don't give up, or who need encouragement, this story is for you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Nov 27, 2016
• ISBN: 9781365566806

Book preview

High Heels & Horsepower

High Heels & Horsepower

By Tim Lee ©2016

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this ebook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Author's Note

Other ebooks by Tim Lee

Acknowledgements

Special thanks to Bruce LeMaster. I'm so grateful to you for helping me to publish my novels and screenplays as ebooks, and for all of the other things you have done, and will continue to do, to help me. You are a very awesome person and friend. What you have done, and will continue to do, is making a very positive difference in my life, and I am very grateful to you for that. Thank you.

Special thanks to Brittany Watkins. You are awesome, Smurf Gal! If I did not know you this novel would not be what it is, because you were the inspiration for the Brittany character in this novel. You are a very dear friend to me, Brittany, and I'm so glad that we know each other. You make this world a better place, and have made my life better for knowing you. Thank you for being who you are.

Chapter 1

Not everyone reacts the same way when they hear it for the first time. Some who hear it are often mesmerized by it, while others are not, and it is something they immediately recognize throughout their lives. The sound of a big-block engine with dual exhaust pipes.

The attraction is not specific to one type of person. Not man or woman, boy or girl. Some are just fascinated by the sound and love hearing it, whereas others don't give it a second thought. Carrie Jessica Baker was one such girl who couldn't stop thinking about it after she heard it for the first time.

Seeing such cars isn't as common these days as it was twenty years ago, but there are still out there. Some are custom or restored ones that people only drive on nice days. And, another reason was that they didn't want to risk having an accident with the vehicle. Not through their own fault, but being hit by someone for any number of reasons. Such vehicles are classics, and seeing them is rarer than in past years. But, there are still loyal gearheads out there rebuilding them and driving them, keeping their spirit and history alive.

Though they are vehicles that are not as commonly seen as they were years before, there is one thing that remains the same; the attention one receives when it is seen and heard. There is something nostalgic about it, mesmerizing, and deep within those who appreciate such a thing it is understood without words what such a thing means to them. It was a part of them.

Carrie Baker, C.J. to her family and friends, was introduced to cars at a young age, and the bug bit her, hard. She had a love for vehicles that couldn't be shook off, which was a little disappointing to her mother, Connie. She was overjoyed that she and her husband, Peter, would be having a girl. Peter had been hoping for a boy, but he was still happy. They had talked about having more kids, so he would hope for a son in the future. Connie had wanted a daughter that she could teach girly things to, and part of that had come true for her.

Carrie loved wearing dresses and being girly, but her interests did not drift toward dolls and playing house, as many young girls interests did growing up. Her interests were in car magazines and building model cars and learning how to work on them and stuff like that. If it had a motor she wanted to learn about it and see how it worked. Her father enjoyed that, and no matter what part of the car he talked about she listened intently, trying to absorb everything he told her as though she were a sponge. She retained a lot of the information, but some of the things were beyond her comprehension. She did not, however, forget them entirely and would later learn what those things meant. True evidence of the gearhead bug having bit her in a very serious way.

Though her father did not own an old big-block muscle car himself, he had many years before during high school and for a few years afterward. Troubled times had fell upon him and he had to sell it, much to his displeasure. Carrie had asked him about it often and had fell in love with that model of car. It was a 1970 Oldsmobile 442, with a 455 big-block under the hood. He had tinkered with it a bit on his own, but stayed away from doing any kind of serious mechanic work himself. His area of knowledge was in body repair, and he had used that knowledge as best he could by fixing the body panels and giving it a beautiful paint job. He missed it, but having a roof over his head and paying the bills became priority. Carrie could tell he missed it when he talked about it, because now he was only able to experience such things vicariously through others that he knew who owned such vehicles.

He had acquired older vehicles from time to time, but couldn't afford to buy a really nice muscle car that he wanted. He had a family to take care of, and that took priority over everything else. He did odd jobs on other vehicles for extra money as well, and Carrie would help if she could. Though she was young and only in elementary school she had learned a lot from her father about that trade in the time they spent together. It was something that she cherished. And, as a result, it had also got her interested in another very specific subject; airbrushing graphics on vehicles.

One of the men that came to their home often had a truck with beautiful pictures airbrushed all over it. She had asked him about it, and he told her that he had painted the graphics himself. That man, Martin Fat Marty Brooks, did custom airbrush work at his own shop.

Fat Marty, she said, looking up at him.

Yeah? he said, watching her dad look at the damage on his truck.

Would you teach me how to do that? she asked.

Do what? he asked, confused, looking down at her.

Graphics like that, she said. Would you teach me how to do that?

He smiled. Kids were always interested learning how to do that. But, the seriousness in her voice was different than the others. He wasn't sure what to think. Maybe she was serious.

I suppose I could, he told her. If it's okay with your mom and dad.

Carrie looked at her father.

Can he, daddy?

Huh? Peter said, looking at them.

Can he teach me how to paint like that? she asked, pointing at the graphics on the truck.

You talking about airbrushing? he asked.

Yeah bro. Fat Marty said. She asked me if I'd teach her how to airbrush like that. I told her I would if it was okay with you and her mom.

Peter looked at his beautiful little daughter.

You really wanna learn how to do that, kiddo?

Uh huh, she nodded. That stuff looks really cool. I wanna learn how to do that.

That is a serious thing, C.J., he said. It's gonna take a lot of patience to learn how to do it. Ain't that right, Marty?

Sure is. Fat Marty replied.

It's gonna require a lot of time to learn how to do it the right way, he said. You can't learn something like that overnight. It's gonna require a real commitment. He looked at Fat Marty. Ain't that right?

Yep. Fat Marty said. You gotta stick with it, otherwise you won't learn. But, once you learn how to airbrush like that it's an awesome feeling. You think you're ready to make that kind of commitment, C.J.?

She nodded, then pointed at the graphics on the side of his truck.

I wanna learn how to do that, cause that's cool.

She was only nine years old then, and neither of them could have predicted how serious she was about learning how to paint with an airbrush. She was a quick study, and Fat Marty couldn't have asked for a better student to teach. She made him proud and surpassed any expectations he'd had of her. He couldn't have been more proud of her if she had been his own daughter.

Over the next few years she had learned a vast amount about cars and many other things related to vehicles, as well as some knowledge about motorcycles. She had become such a good artist with an airbrush in her own right that he had let her paint something on the hood of a car he had bought. It was a 1981 Trans Am and was in need of a new hood decal, like the bird decals they came from the factory with, but she suggested that he let her airbrush one on the hood instead. He had agreed, but what he got wasn't a bird.

She had made him promise that he wouldn't look at it until she had finished it, because it was a trust issue. She wanted to surprise him, and she definitely had.

What he saw on the hood was a wicked, though awesome looking, dragon in place of a bird. Its wings were spread out, and it had a beautiful image with a castle in the background. It was dark enough not to take away from the picture of the dragon itself, but clearly visible when up close, and made you appreciate the picture and the amount of talent required to paint it.

It was because of that picture she painted on the hood of that car that he decided not to sell it. That had been his original intention, but it was just too cool to get rid of. He liked it too much. He had never thought about painting something other than a bird on the hood of a Trans Am before, but he had broadened his ideas about things after she did that.

After she finished eighth grade she didn't have to worry about making money by baby-sitting or doing other odd jobs. Fat Marty had offered her a job. He made a deal with her and agreed to pay her a percentage of any airbrush work she did. She had agreed and took the job. There was never a shortage of work for either of them to do. The quality of work he'd been putting out over the years was excellent, but Carrie brought a fresh and unique perspective to the business, and she was versatile. Her ability to paint certain things was beyond his own. Other things they were equal at. It was as though she had been born with an airbrush in her hand. Many guys with motorcycles who had never been to his shop laughed when he told them Carrie could paint the graphics on their bikes for them. They didn't believe him when he showed them pictures of stuff she'd painted, but they were quick believers after she painted something in front of them. She had their complete faith in her ability after that.

She made good money at it, but never did much of anything with it. She bought stuff for herself from time to time, but nothing really fancy. She made a lot more money than that and just put it in the bank. It was the smart thing to do, and she didn't want to just blow it on things like other kids her age, or the average person, might do. Her parents were proud of her for being as responsible as she was and for learning how to airbrush and sticking with it. They knew she'd never have to worry about finding a good job or needing money in the future, because that was a talent that she could write her own ticket with, so to speak.

Despite all of the things she had learned to do on cars, and how well she could paint, not just airbrushing but a complete paint job with a regular paint gun, she was not sure what kind of car she wanted for herself. She knew she would figure that out when the time came. Her dad said she could one whenever she wanted, but she just hadn't made up her mind. Unlike most kids her age, she could afford to buy whatever car she wanted. Pretty much, anyway.

* * *

It was a beautiful Christmas morning. Carrie had woke up early and went outside and sat on the front porch with a cup of hot cocoa. She enjoyed doing that a lot during the winter, because she loved how beautiful everything looked when it was covered with snow. Everything looked so peaceful, and it made her feel lucky to be able to see it and enjoy it. It was something she felt most people took for granted. It was something she had come to appreciate and cherish very much. It made her feel more free than anything else.

Hey, her father said as he opened the door and stepped outside. Whatcha doin'?

Just enjoying the fresh air and a cup of hot cocoa, she said as he sat down beside her on the wide, wooden rocking seat and put one around her.

Yeah, he said. I can see that. It's a beautiful morning. I see you've outgrown going right for the presents like most kids.

Well, she said and took a sip of cocoa. Some of the best gifts in life are free.

You've become wise beyond your years.

She looked at him.

You just now realized that?

No, he said. And, you're a pain in the butt too.

Am not, she said and stuck her tongue out at him. You still love me though.

I always will, kiddo, and kissed her on the head. I always will.

I know, she said and took another sip of cocoa.

I'm gonna wake your mom up and make some breakfast. You gonna stay out here much longer?

No, she said, shaking her head.

Okay, he said and stood up. Wouldn't want all those nice presents to start feeling lonely or unwanted.

Weird old guy, she said.

I love you too, he smiled, and went inside the house.

* * *

They had ate breakfast together and were now sitting in the living room, near the Christmas tree, opening presents. They got each other gifts they really liked. They were very close and knew what each other liked. Carrie made more money doing custom paint work than her parents did combined. But, that didn't mean she didn't love the gifts they got her. She didn't buy extravagant gifts for them often, but she did occasionally. She would make beautiful things for them, because such gifts were from the heart. This year she made them something very special. She got up and walked over to the tree and picked up a large present. It was three feet by two feet, and a few inches thick.

This one is for both of you. Carrie said, handing it to them. I think you'll really like it.

Connie opened the card that was taped to the present and read it.

That's so sweet, C.J. Thank you.

Yeah, her dad said. Thanks.

Enough jibber-jabber. Carrie said. Open the present.

They opened it.

Oh, my God, her mother said.

Cool! her dad said.

This is beautiful, her mother said.

It was a picture that she had airbrushed of her mom and dad together. It was a picture of how they looked when they were younger. She knew they had met in high school, and they used to go cruising in his car. There were two pictures of his old 1979 442 her father had back then, and that had been enough for her to see to paint a nice picture of it at an angle behind them.

This is really cool, her dad smiled. Thanks.

They each gave her a hug.

You always give us the best presents, her mother said. Thanks.

I'm glad you like it. Carrie said with a big smile. She was very happy with their reaction. I worked hard on it.

Man, it looks just like my old car, her dad said. You really nailed it. It looks like a real picture.

Yeah, I know. Carrie said. I got skills.

Aren't you smug, her dad said.

Yep, she smiled and nodded. Me be smug. I still got skills, though.

Weird kid, her dad said.

Weird old guy, she said.

Her mom smiled and laughed at both of them.

You're both weird. There is no doubt that you are father and daughter. None at all.

Well, her dad said. I have one more present for you. It's kind of a present for both of us, but it's mainly for you. He got up and got the present from under the tree. It was the size of a holiday card, and about half an inch thick. Here you go, he said, handing it to her."

Carrie unwrapped it, opened it and looked inside. There was a picture of a 1970 Olds 442. It was in rough condition. She picked up the picture, still looking at it. A moment later she noticed the pretty paper the picture had been on top of. She opened the paper and saw a set of car keys. She looked at her dad.

Merry Christmas, kiddo, he said. Thought it would be a nice project we could work on together. Whaddya think?

Cool! Carrie smiled, and gave her dad a hug. Thanks, dad. Kind of rough, though. Couldn't find one in better shape?

Not for the money, he told her. You're so talented it wouldn't matter if only half the car was there.

Cause I got skills.

Cause you got skills, he said.

You two will be able to spend some quality time together working on it, her mom said. That's really important. I'm happy for you guys.

When are we gonna bring it home? Carrie asked.

Later on tonight, her dad said. It was a little too big to hide from you here, so I asked the guy I bought it from if I could leave it at his place till today. He said that was okay.

Cool. Carrie said.

You're almost sixteen, he said. I figured you'd like to have an old car for your first car, even if it isn't the first car you drive on a regular basis. And, I thought you'd like having an older car with some muscle under the hood to cruise around in.

Definitely, she smiled and hugged him. Thanks, dad.

You're very welcome, he said.

Thanks for everything you got for me too, mom, she said and gave her mom a hug. I love everything. Especially the purse and boots.

You're welcome, her mom said. I'm glad you like them.

* * *

The three of them had went and got the 442 and brought it back home. Carrie was looking it over again before they put it in the garage. It had rust in quite a few places. Some was just on the surface, and in other places there were holes all the way through the metal. It definitely needed some work. Replacing those areas with new metal was what she would do, because that was the best thing to do. The interior was shot and would need to be replaced. She didn't mind that part, though, because the interior was white, and she thought white interiors were ugly. Ideas were already forming in her mind for what she'd do.

The one really good thing about the car was the engine. The body and interior may have been beat up and abused, but the engine was solid. It was a 455 big-block from a mid-1970s car. That was good, because she wouldn't have to spend extra money to have certain things done. She was, however, still going to spend a lot of money on it to make it stronger than it was, and to give it additional horsepower. It may have been rebuilt and was a strong runner, but more would have to be done to it for what she envisioned. She would take what was there of the car and make it her own.

That was what all gearheads did.

Well, she said, it's got potential.

You already got some ideas for it? her dad asked.

Oh yeah, she said. It's gonna be slick when it's done. It's definitely gonna be one mean machine. No doubt about that.

Connie was looking at the car.

Man, she said. You both have a lot of work ahead of you.

Yep. Carrie said. But, it's gonna be fun. She looked at her dad. Right, dad?

Right, he said.

Let's get a picture of both of you next to the car. Connie said.

Okay. Carrie said.

Carrie and her dad put an arm around each other and smile. Connie pressed the button on her phone and took their picture.

Chapter 2

Christmas break was over and the kids were back in school. It hadn't been a very cold day on Christmas, but there had been a lot of snow on the ground, and in the two weeks since then they had been blessed with even more. The weather had delayed school from resuming on its intended day. Three days had passed before classes could resume, but the students didn't mind. They enjoyed seeing each other again and were talking about what they got for Christmas and what they did.

Carrie and her two best friends, Brittany Stewart and Kelly Hastings, were sitting at a table in the cafeteria eating lunch and talking. The three of them had been best friends since kindergarten, and had went to elementary school and junior high together, and were now attending the same high school. Kelly was the preppy of the three, and Brittany was a heavy metal goth-girl, with pink, green, and orange hair, and Carrie was what some would call every boy's fantasy. She was a beautiful brunette, and was fifty percent girly-girl and fifty percent tomboy. She always had her hair and nails done, but wasn't the least bit afraid of getting dirty. She wore jeans and T-shirts as often as she wore nylons and skirts and dresses. She would also work on a car wearing the latter from time to time. She was versatile.

That is so cool that your dad bought you a car. Brittany said to Carrie.

Yeah. Kelly agreed.

It's cool. Carrie said. I like it. We're gonna fix it up together. It's like the one he had when he was in high school. It's gonna be sharp when we get done with it. And fast.

What's it look like? Brittany asked, shoving a french fry in her mouth.

I got a picture of it on my phone. Carrie said and brought it up on her phone. She handed her phone to Brittany. Check it out.

Brittany looked at the picture, then at Carrie for a second, then looked at the picture.

This thing looks like crap. Brittany looked at Carrie. He couldn't get you something nicer?

That's not why he bought it. Carrie told her. It's about me and him spending quality time together fixing it up. Besides, it's got a lot of potential. Just needs some work.

Yeah. Kelly said, looking at the picture. A lot of work.

A shitload, in my opinion. Brittany chimed.

Carrie snatched the phone from Brittany.

Hater bitches.

They looked at her for a moment, then the three of them laughed. They talked for a few more minutes before the bell rang, then went to their next class.

* * *

It was the end of February before Carrie and her dad started working on the 442 he had bought her. They had removed the engine and transmission, lifted the body off the frame, and were sandblasting the areas where the rust hadn't gone all the way through. The areas where it had she would be replacing with new metal. They were going to clean up the frame and take it somewhere to have it powder coated, as that was what she wanted done, and it would look really nice.

Carrie was still thinking about what exactly she wanted done to the motor. A lot of power could be had from a big-block, and she wanted to get the most bang for the buck. She would figure it out over time as they worked on the car.

She was removing one of the rear quarter-panels, as it had suffered serious rust damage. A new one would be welded in place. She wasn't a great welder, but she was good enough to get the job done. This would give her additional practice. She enjoyed learning how to do things better, and wasn't afraid to admit her own shortcomings. She would practice till she could do something to the very best of her ability.

Her dad had cleaned up the firewall. He had removed everything attached to it, sandblasted the rust spots till they were gone, put some body-filler over those areas and sanded it smooth, then sprayed primer over them after prepping them properly. He walked up beside Carrie afterward and tapped her on one shoulder.

Hey, kiddo, he said. How's it comin' along?

She took her hand off the trigger of the air-powered cutting-wheel.

Huh? she said, looking up at him.

How's it comin' along? he asked again.

Good, she said. Got the quarter off. Just cleaning up some spots before I hit it with the grinder. How you doin' up there?

Got all the rust off the firewall and sprayed it with primer, he told her. I have to put spot putty in a few places, but other than that it's lookin' good.

Cool, she said.

What's say we call it a day and get something to eat? he asked. I can't spend too much time out here, cause your mom might start gettin' jealous.

Damn right. Connie said from the doorway.

They both looked at her.

Busted. Carrie laughed.

We were callin' it a day, hon. Peter said. Ask you daughter, he added, looking at Carrie. Tell her, C.J.

Is that true? Connie asked her.

Yep. Carrie replied. We were calling it quits for the day.

You wouldn't be covering for him, would ya? Connie asked.

Nope. Carrie said, raising her arm and making a fist. Girl power!

Okay. Connie smiled. I believe you. I'm kinda hungry. What about you guys?

That's why we were callin' it quits for the day. Peter said as he walked over to Connie. He patted his stomach. Gettin' hungry.

Yep. Carrie said. Need some grub. Feed me.

Peter threw a rag at her. She laughed as it landed on her head.

Come on, kiddo.

Hey. Carrie said. No fair using a weapon. I know where you live, old dude.

I know where you live too. Peter said, and kissed Connie on one cheek. He looked at Carrie. Guess that messes up your plans.

Nope. Carrie said. Just means I'm gonna take extra time plotting against you. You won't know when it's comin', but when something weird happens to you you'll know it was me. Carrie crossed her eyes as she looked at him.

Peter looked at Connie.

You got a weird kid there, he said, nodding at Carrie.

Yeah, I know. Connie agreed. She's just like her father. He's a pain in the ass too, with a really warped sense of humor. Connie smacked him lightly on the back of the head and walked out of the garage.

He watched her walk away, then looked at Carrie. She had her mouth open a little, laughing silently like the muppets on Sesame Street do.

I don't know what I'm gonna do with you, he said.

Wuv you. Carrie said innocently.

Come on, weird kid of mine. Peter said, shaking his head with a smile as he turned and walked out of the garage.

They went inside the house and the three of them had decided on pizza to eat that evening. Peter and Carrie were going to pick it up, because he needed to put some gas in his truck, that way he wouldn't have to do it in the morning. They stopped at the gas station then went to the pizza place to pick up their order. They went inside and waited, as it wasn't done yet and would be a few more minutes.

Gave much thought about the engine yet? Peter asked her.

No. Carrie replied. Not really. I mean, I want it to run strong. Stronger than it does now. Figured I'd get it bored over and get some high-performance heads and pistons and stuff. I'm thinking I'd like to get about five-fifty or six hundred horse out of it. What do you think?

Sounds like a plan, he nodded. Throw a high-performance cam in it and a couple of four-barrel carbs and you'll make it. If you really want some horsepower throw a supercharger on it. That's the quickest way to get another hundred and fifty to two hundred horsepower.

Yeah. Carrie said. That thought did cross my mind. I haven't decided yet what I'm gonna do. But, I know one thing for sure.

What's that? he asked, curious.

That car is gonna be wicked. Carrie told him. It's gonna have a lot of power and be a real beast. When I turn the key and that engines cranks up people are gonna know there's power under the hood.

That's my girl. Peter said and put one arm around her and squeezed her up against his side a couple of times. A horsepower junkie just like I used to be.

Yep, she said, a big smile on her face. I done went and made you all proud and stuff, huh?

Oh yeah, he nodded. I'm very proud of you. Have been ever since you were little. I couldn't have asked for a better daughter. You're gonna make a really good life for yourself. I wish we could have gave you a better one when you were younger.

What are you talking about? Carrie asked, looking at him seriously. You and mom love me and have always been supportive. That has meant the world to me. You both taught me good morals and gave me unconditional love. No amount of money could compare to that, and you know it. I'm happy that I grew up in the environment I did, and that I have you and mom for parents. Not all kids are that lucky, but I was.

Gee, he said, and paused for a moment. I don't know what to say.

That's cause you're weird. Carrie said, and punched him gently.

Well, he said. That means you're weird too, cause you're my kid.

Maybe a little, she said. But, you're funny lookin' too. Can't say that about me, cause I got my good looks from mom.

Evil little girl, he said.

She stuck her tongue out at him.

You got your warped sense of humor from me though, he said. You can't deny that.

I think mom is holding that against you for the rest of your life, she said. Cause she doesn't find your sense of humor amusing sometimes.

You're right about that, he laughed.

One of the guys behind the counter brought them their order as he finished saying that. Here's your order, the man said.

Thanks. Peter said. He picked up the pizza boxes and looked at a refrigerator with a clear glass door. There were soda bottles of various sizes in it. Let me get a couple two-liter bottles of Pepsi.

Okay, the man said and got the bottles and set them on the counter. That'll be thirteen-fifty.

Peter paid for them and they walked out and got in his truck and began the drive home. The radio was on and Carrie changed the station, trying to find a cool song.

Cool, she said after finding one. It was an old Ozzy Osbourne song. She turned it up. The light at the intersection ahead turned green, so they didn't have to slow down. They would get home sooner, which was good, because they were hungry. As they passed through the intersection another truck crashed into the driver's side of their truck, causing it to spin sideways and flip over onto its roof.

* * *

Connie was sitting on the couch, worried, wondering why Peter and Carrie hadn't returned with the pizza yet. She knew they were stopping off at a gas station so Peter could put gas in his truck so he wouldn't have to do it in the morning. That wouldn't take very long, and they should have been back already. She called Peter's cellphone, but he didn't answer. She had called the pizza place and they told her they had picked up the order already. It was a few minutes shy of an hour when her cellphone rang.

Hello! she said as she answered her cellphone quickly, hoping it was Peter or Carrie. It was neither. It was a police officer informing her that Peter and Carrie had been in a car accident. She asked how bad it was, and the officer told her. Her knees gave out when she heard the news. Carrie was in the hospital in serious condition and was unconscious, and Peter was dead. He hadn't been wearing his seatbelt and his neck broke when the truck flipped over and landed on its roof. She only remembered a few things from the conversation. Which hospital Carrie had been taken to was one of those things. She hung up the phone and sat there in shock as the information settled in. She went to her bedroom to get her purse and car keys. She fell to the floor, crying.

No! she cried. Not my Peter! Why!?

* * *

She has a serious concussion, but she'll be fine, the doctor told Connie, as they stood there looking at Carrie lying on the hospital bed.

How long before she wakes up? Connie asked.

She's sedated right now, he told her. Until the swelling goes down. That's the best thing for her right now.

Connie nodded.

Thank you.

You're welcome, he said and turned and walked out of the room.

After she had gained her composure prior to coming there she had called Peter's parents and told them what happened, then she had called her sister and told her what happened. Her sister, Ashley Barlow, told her she'd call the rest of the family and let them know what happened and then would come to the hospital to be with her. Fifteen minutes after Connie finished talking to the doctor Ashley arrived and sat down beside her and put an arm around her. Connie turned and hugged her and cried.

It's okay, sis. Ashley said. Let it out. I'm here for you.

Ashley looked at Carrie lying on the bed in the hospital room and cried softly herself. For both Carrie and Peter. Peter was a good man, and she knew that his death would be very hard on Connie. Carrie and her father had been very close, and it would be hard on Carrie also.

Carrie had been unconscious since the accident, and wasn't aware that her father was dead.

* * *

It was almost noon two days later when Carrie woke up. She opened her eyes then shut them quickly, as the room was bright from the light coming in through the large window to her right.

Oh, man, she moaned softly. My head hurts. She raised a hand to cover her eyes, and noticed the IV taped to the back of her hand. She looked around the room. Where the hell am I? she asked, confused.

A nurse walked in a minute later, making her rounds.

Good to see you awake, she said. How're you feeling?

Like somebody kicked my ass with a golf club, she said. Where am I?

Mercy Medical Center, the nurse told her. You were in a pretty bad accident the day before yesterday. You had a concussion and were sedated till the swelling went down. You're doing better and will be fine.

Where's my dad? Carrie said after a moment. Is he okay?

I'm gonna get the doctor, the nurse said. Your mother and aunt are here and will want to know you're awake now. I'll be back.

Wait. Carrie said as the nurse turned and walked out of the room. The nurse didn't stop. She sighed and turned her head and looked out the window.

* * *

Connie and Ashley were in one of the waiting rooms, each had a cup of coffee in hand. They had been there all night. Both were tired, and had found it almost impossible to fall asleep. Connie was staring out the window, adrift in her own thoughts. Ashley was sitting in a chair, watching her. Ashley picked up a magazine on the table next to the chair and opened it. She starting flipping pages as a nurse walked up to them.

Ladies, the nurse said. She's awake.

Thank God. Connie said as she turned around. Can we see her?

Yes, the nurse said. But...

But what? Ashley asked, concerned.

What's wrong? Connie asked, seeing the nurse had something important to say.

The doctor is with her right now, the nurse said. When I came on shift they said she was unconscious when she first came in. I didn't know if she'd been unconscious immediately as a result of the accident or not, but now I know she was.

I don't understand. Connie said.

I don't either. Ashley said, confused. What's your point?

She asked about her father, the nurse said. And, I know that he didn't survive the accident. I thought both of you should be aware of that before you walk into that room and talk to her. Telling anyone someone they love has died is never easy, but knowing that she doesn't know before you talk to her might make things less difficult for you.

Oh. Connie said and drifted off in her own thoughts for a moment, no longer paying attention to the nurse.

Thank you. Ashley told the nurse. We appreciate that you told us about that.

You're welcome, the nurse said, then turned around and walked away.

Ashley looked at Connie. She could tell her sister was on the edge of a serious emotional breakdown. She walked up to her and put her arms around her.

I won't pretend to understand how you're feeling right now, sis, but just know that I'm here for you for however long you need me to be. Okay?

Okay. Connie said, hugging Ashley tight. I'm glad you're here.

Ashley stepped back after a minute.

Sis, she said. I know you've got a lot on your mind right now, so I can break the news to C.J. if you don't feel you can handle doing it.

Thanks. Connie said thoughtfully. That might be best, because I don't think I can do it.

They picked up their purses and walked to Carrie's room. When they entered her room they saw the doctor the nurse said was talking to Carrie. He was shining a little light in Carrie's eyes and asking her questions.

Well, he said. You suffered a pretty bad concussion. The swelling has gone down, though, which is good. You appear to be doing okay.

I have a headache. Carrie said. And, I'm sore all over.

I have no doubt, he said. You're lucky. I'll write you a prescription for something to help with that. I'll have one of the nurses give you something for your headache. You'll feel much better in a few days.

Thanks. Carrie told him. She turned and looked at her mom and aunt. Hi.

Hey there, girl. Ashley said.

Hey, C.J. Connie said.

Well, the doctor said. I'll leave you three alone to talk.

Thank you, doctor. Ashley said as he walked past her and Connie and left the room.

How ya feelin', C.J.? Ashley asked.

Like somebody who just got kicked by a horse. Carrie told her. I've never been kicked by one, so I'm not really sure how much it hurts. But, I'm sure it makes a person feel like I feel right now, or close to it.

Connie and Ashley smiled. Carrie could tell their smiles were forced, and knew something was wrong.

We're glad to see you're okay. Ashley said.

Something's wrong. Carrie said. I can tell. What's going on?

Connie and Ashley looked at each other, then at Carrie.

And, Carrie said. How come that nurse wouldn't tell me how dad is doing? Has he been out for as long as me?

Connie walked up to the bed and held one of Carrie's hands.

Sweetie, Connie said as a tear rolled down one cheek, deciding she would break the news to Carrie. The accident you were in was really bad. Your...your dad didn't make it.

What? Carrie said, shocked, not quite sure she heard her mother correctly.

He was already dead when the ambulance got there. Ashley said, coming around the other side of the bed. There was nothing anyone could do.

No...no. Carrie said, shaking her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. He can't be. He just can't be.

Connie hugged her daughter, and they both cried.

Chapter 3

Carrie had stayed at the hospital one more night. The doctor wanted to keep her overnight for observation to make sure she was okay. She was and was discharged. The accident had happened on a Thursday evening, and it was Sunday afternoon when her mom and Ashley took her home. She was sore, obviously, and a bit woozy from the mild pain medication they'd gave her. She was doing okay physically. Emotionally, however, was another story.

Carrie and