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Creswell, North Carolina, 1974
Tina Raye Lawrence had no idea that owning a used car would make her feel this good. Giddy, she leaned over and kissed the steering wheel leaving a perfect red imprint of her lips in the center.
She was happy, very happy. Perhaps for the first time in months. Tina let out a little squeal as she accelerated slowly off Highway 64 onto State Road 1142. A warm breeze wafted through her open window. It looked like it was shaping up to be a rare, warm February day. Just two weeks earlier, it had snowed six inches.
For several days, she and her daughter Elaine were trapped inside. They filled the time making snow cream and using their creativity in the kitchen. Never had she been more grateful for the food she’d put up last summer from their tiny garden. Her elderly neighbor Nero Goings had shared his firewood when the power blacked out, and they’d made it work. If the rumors were true about the energy crisis, they would have to continue this ‘make do’ attitude until President Nixon got ahold of the OPEC oil embargo situation.
It was after lunchtime, which meant the streets of Creswell were empty, but that didn’t matter. She didn’t buy the car to profile. All the months of saving and doing without, this car was for her. Not for the other residents of this small country town. This was her freedom. Her reward.
It was hard for a single mom to do, but she’d done it. She’d gone without food on the table or new clothes on her back and so had her daughter Elaine on occasion, but Tina Raye Lawrence of 645 Newland Road down Cherry way was a determined woman. Her philandering absentee father, Ray Lawrence, died without a penny ... or a car ... to his name. By hook or by crook, she would have money in the bank and her own set of wheels.
Now, she had her dream. She no longer had to depend on anyone, especially Johnny Ellington.
Her Calvin was coming home soon, and he would be so proud of her. From his letters, he seemed excited to see her and their daughter Elaine. As grateful as she was for Johnny’s help these past few years, driving her to her job at the Tastee Freez in Plymouth, she had to make room in her heart for Calvin again. Calvin Norris, Elaine’s father, was the man she’d fallen for fourteen years ago.
The Vietnam War had stripped Calvin of his left hand, and perhaps some of his pride, but he was still her man even though hundreds of miles separated them. Ten years ago, when he returned from overseas, he had barely taken notice of his little girl. Some time passed, and he packed a bag, kissed his mother and caught the first Greyhound bus out of town.
Had she run him away with too many questions? Too many demands? All of her talk of a big wedding? This time she’d be more patient, more careful. She could change, she told herself. She was sitting in the proof that she could be patient, persistent, and stick to a plan.
Admittedly, she’d led Johnny on for several months when she wasn’t sure if Calvin would ever heal from his mind wounds and return to Cherry for her. Faithful Johnny. He’d been a good friend. Hopefully, he’d understand.
She prayed things would be different with Calvin. The war had changed him. But judging from his letters, things were improving. He had not told her to stop talking about marriage. That was a good sign.
“Lord, work on him,” she prayed quietly to herself as she eased to twenty miles per hour along Main Street. Half a block down on the right, she could see the line of cars parked in front of Miss Melissa’s grocery store. Thankfully, the sidewalk was clear. She checked her rearview mirror. All clear. A car was approaching quickly from 6th street to the north. The driver was a man as far as she could tell.
A slow smile overtook her as she realized it had been fifteen years since she’d driven down Main Street in a car by herself. She was footloose and fancy-free back then, wheeling around in her Uncle Harry’s beater. She’d caught Calvin’s eye that day, grinding the gears as she shifted pitifully into second in front of a crowd of high school buddies.
This new-to-her Ford Taunus was easier to shift and easy on the eyes. If she said so herself. It gleamed like a new penny. Would it be so bad if somebody saw her in it? The thought flashed through her mind. Just as quickly as it came, she pushed it away.
“Pride goes before the fall, Tina Raye,” she scolded herself.
Just as soon as she clamped her lips together, the door of Miss Melissa’s opened and out stepped Miss Josephine, the town’s favorite gossip with her best friend, Miss Karen, another mother of her church.
With their arms wrapped around bulging paper sacks, the ladies were headed down the sidewalk toward her. After two steps, Miss Joe stopped in her tracks and stared in Tina’s direction.
Oh, good Lord. Not now.
The main busybody pushed her glasses down her nose and said something to her gray-haired shopping companion.
“Lord, give me strength,” Tina said through gritted teeth.
Behind her, a driver honked his horn. It was the same car she’d seen approaching from 6th Street. There was no backing up. He was too close.
She glared at his reflection in her rearview mirror. “Hold on, buster.”
In a moment of fluster, her left foot caught beneath the clutch. She jerked it free and stomped on the brake. Her car lurched to a stop. A heartbeat later, the car jerked forward again. The squeal of tires and the gut-wrenching sound of metal clashing filled her ears.
Her heart sank like a rock.
“No. No. No,” she moaned, gripping the steering wheel with both hands. She squeezed her eyes tight and put the car in park, resting her forehead on the center of the wheel.
She didn’t need to get out. Not right away, at least. In her mind, she could see her crumpled rear bumper lying in the street. It was ruined. It was all ruined.
Her car. Her dream. Her freedom. All ruined.
Why Lord?
She had waited so long and suffered through so much. Could she not have enjoyed this moment of freedom for just a little while? Was that too much to ask of God?
A tap on the top of her car made her bolt upright, eyes wide open.
A man in dark sunglasses stood beside her car. Though strangely appealing to look at, there was nothing about his face or his clothes that were familiar. From where she sat, he didn’t seem overly tall, but he did seem large and mad.
What did he have to be mad about? He was the one who had smashed into her car. The faint smell of his cologne teased at her frazzled senses.
It was a familiar musky scent. Hadn’t her Calvin worn something like it? The muscles in the man’s arm bulged as he planted his hands on his hips. He leaned closer to her window and the cologne aroma grew stronger.
“You alright, Miss?” She saw a spattering of freckles on his light brown skin, but his strong, prominent brow gave him anything but a boyish face. “You just stopped in the middle of... Look, I’m sorry for hitting you but... You just stopped.”
She stared back at her double reflection in his eyewear. Did she appear as out of sorts as she felt? She couldn’t seem to put two words together.
“Tina Raye. Tina Raye.”
Someone was calling her name. Her ears were roaring, but she clearly heard someone.
“Tina Raye.”
She turned toward the voice. Miss Joe and Miss Karen waved at her from the sidewalk.
“You alright, sister?” Miss Joe asked before stepping away from the curb. She jabbed a finger at the car behind her. “He came outta nowhere.”
Tina unglued her fingers from the steering wheel and tried to steady her breathing.
The man spoke again. “You just stopped in the middle of the street.”
She pushed open her door. “I need to... I need to stand up.”
The man shook his head. “Probably best if you stay put until medical assistance or the police arrive.” He looked around. “This little bump in the road does have a policeman, right?”
Tina couldn’t believe her ears. She pushed herself up from the driver’s seat and glared at the handsome stranger. “Excuse me, sir.”
He was not going to insult this “little bump in the road” if she had anything to say about it.
“Stand up, Tina Raye.” It was Mother Karen, pushing around the man to reach for Tina’s elbow. “Lean on me, child. Is that blood on your for’ead?”
Tina touched her forehead. She felt a smear of lipstick. “I’m fine, Mother Karen. It’s just lipstick.”
Miss Karen tsked. “You don’t sound fine. You sound weak as a kitten.”
Miss Joe agreed, hobbling toward them. “Weak as a baby cat. Sat down, child.”
“She looks fine to me,” the man added. “She’s standing. Moving her neck about.”
Miss Joe grunted. “He done give you whiplash, sister.”
The man shook his head and probably rolled his eyes by the tilt of his head. There was no telling what he was doing behind those dark glasses. “I’m sorry I hit you, but you just stopped.”
“There he go,” Miss Joe continued. “That the man who done hit you. There he go.”
Tina felt unsteady on her feet. She widened her stance a bit. Years of working the grill at Tastee Freez had taught her how to stay upright even in the worst situation.
Miss Joe wagged her finger. “Looka there. Looka there. He getting worked up.”
“Listen,” the man said before stepping back from the three ladies. “I’m new in town, and I’m obviously at fault.”
“Be careful, Tina Raye,” Miss Joe said. “He look mean.”
Heads swiveled to Miss Joe. Her dark, brown lips were shriveled like a prune.
“Ma’am,” the man said. “I am not—”
“Chas! Chas!” A man’s voice interrupted whatever he was going to say.
Tina turned toward the voice coming from the sidewalk behind them. Her sister, Paula approached at a trot with her boyfriend Edward Anderson.
“Greetings, Dr. Anderson,” Miss Joe addressed Edward formally. “You know this fool?”
The man snatched off his sunglasses. “Fool?”
“Chas,” Ed warned with a shake of his head. “Chill, brother.”
Chas’s green eyes flashed with disdain. His eye color disarmed Tina for a split second. She felt her resolve for justice weakening as the handsome stranger regarded her.
“I’m trying to chill, Ed,” Chas said. “But it’s extremely difficult when this woman just stopped driving in the middle of the road like she was driving a horse and buggy and not a Ford Taunus.”
She pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes. If this fool uttered one more insulting word, she would slap the mess out of him. She inhaled deeply through her nose.
Help me, Jesus.
Ed placed his hand on her shoulder. “Tina, I suggest we get the car out of the road.”
“You know her?” Chas asked.
“Yes,” Ed said and placed his other hand on Chas’s shoulder. “Everyone, this is my cousin Chas Warren.”
Tina could not believe her ears. “Cousin!”
“This is crazy, man,” Chas complained to his cousin. “Is there some law enforcement in this town? Some pot-bellied old coot with a silver star on his chest?”
Chas paused for a chuckle. Ed was wagging his head, but the man kept talking. “Maybe we can find Andy Griffith or—”
Tina had had enough. She raised her hand and slapped the mess out of him.