Chapter Fifteen

Delly dropped off Kelleigh in front of the house with a sheepish goodbye. She realized after Kelleigh's conversation with Sid that she was wrong and felt terribly for dragging her out. It wasn't so much as Kelleigh being in mourning as what other would say, especially Steve’s family. Delly realized that they dodged a very public scene with Sid back at the restaurant.

"Do you want me to come in? Hang out?"

Kelleigh looked at the darkened house then back at her friend. "No thanks, Del. It's not any different than any other night, really. He was never home in the evenings anyway. If he wasn't at work, he was out with friends." She paused for a moment, thinking of the girl in the picture. "It's sad really, but this isn't going to be a big change. Frankly, it's a relief."

Delly looked reassured. "Okay, well. If you need anything just give me a call. Try not to throw any more furniture out the window, okay? At least wait until I can help you."

With that, Kelleigh grinned. "It's a deal, I'll wait for you next time. By the way, what did you do with Steve's stuff?" Kelleigh had completely forgotten that she needed to get a change of clothes to Delly for Sid in the morning.

Delly grinned, "I didn't take them to Goodwill yet. That's what I was going to do. They're in my garage."

"Well, when you see him tomorrow, tell him he can have all of Steve's stuff. Then maybe I don't have to argue with Sid about the car or anything else he mistakenly thinks is Steve's."

Delly nodded "That would be fine. I seem to have a way with him." She wiggled her eyebrows and made Kelleigh laugh.

"That would be great. Thanks, Delly, for everything." She got out of the car and walked to the house. Looking at the garage, she realized that she needed to do something to better secure the door. She didn't trust Sid and could easily imagine him doing something asinine like breaking in.

She let herself in the house, turning lights on as she went. She hated coming home to a darkened house. Steve always complained that she had the lights on for no reason but she didn't care. And now he wasn't there to complain anyway.

She went out to the garage and flipped the lock on the door. It was a flimsy lock at best; anyone could unlock it if they really wanted to. Thinking for a moment, she grabbed the keys to her truck and backed it out of the garage. Getting out, she closed the garage door again then pulled her truck tight against the garage. She got out and checked her truck. She had the bumper nearly touching the garage door. This would surely slow anyone down, at least for now. "I'll have to call a security company in the morning." She said aloud to no one in particular. She had wanted an alarm system since Steve began working nights shortly after their wedding but Steve didn't want one. Now that he wasn't ever coming home again, Kelleigh felt justified in having one installed.

Returning to the house, she went upstairs to her new bedroom. She was suddenly mind-numbingly tired. She got to bed so late last night while remodeling the upstairs and today had been exhausting although she really hadn't done anything. As she undressed, she wondered if she was ever going to feel sadness or loss at Steve's death. Right now, all she felt was release and relief.

The next day dawned sunny and bright. Kelleigh felt much better, the numbness seemed to have retreated. She still didn't feel as if she were properly mourning Steve's death but decided that she wasn't going to worry about it.

She poured herself a cup of coffee and wandered aimlessly through the house. It was Sunday and she had no plans. She felt at loose ends and that frustrated her. She finally wandered out to the garage and leaned against the workbench.

There were tools scattered everywhere, Steve was terrible about putting them back into the very expensive toolbox he insisted he needed. Setting her coffee down on the bench, she began to pick them up and replace them into the toolbox.

Next, she cleaned off the workbench, tossing empty soda cans, and dirty rags, putting away even more tools and sweeping off debris.

Steve left a wiring project unfinished on the bench; it was the one component of the racecar that Kelleigh was unfamiliar with. It was one of the last projects Steve was going to complete before sending the car to the chassis shop and then to the painters.

Kelleigh was a little surprised at her own quick assumption that she would finish the racecar. As she looked at it, it wouldn't take much. She grinned suddenly when she realized that she had $1,000 in the bank: Steve's hidden stash.

Grinning, she decided that she would use the money to finish the car. What his money did not finish, she supposed, she would use her own money from the life insurance policy that she bought for Steve when they married. The house was free and clear and she made a good living. She didn't need Steve's money.

The fact that Steve would be incensed that she would finish and, worse yet, race "his" racecar made her all the more determined. She went back into the house to find the address book. She was going to need some help getting the car finished and she was unsure where or how to start. She certainly couldn't ask Sid or any of Steve's friends.

She flipped through the address book, hoping that a name would jump out or inspiration would dawn. On the second pass through the book, nothing came to mind. Finally, out of nothing more than determination, she called the racetrack. Certainly, there was someone there who could help her.

Finally, a hurried voice answered the telephone. Kelleigh realized as she heard noise in the background that there was racing today and cringed. They would be busy.

"Um, yes. I need to ask a quick question. I need help with a racecar and need to get some recommendations. Who would I talk to?"

There was an impatient sigh through the line. "That would be Eddie, I guess. But he's not available, he's out on the track."

"Can I leave a message for him? Or should I call back?"

Again, she heard a sigh over the din of the cars. "I can't take a message now, why don't you call back later today after the races are finished."

"Okay, I'll do that. Thanks!" She hardly got the words out of her mouth before hearing a click in her ear. She hung up the telephone and tried not to feel disappointed. She knew that it was not going to be easy. Girls were not easily accepted in the boy-world of racecars. She'd experienced it time and time again. She would focus on the fact that she had a name of someone who could possibly help her. She would just call back later today.

Pouring another cup of coffee, she realized that anyone who would help her would need information about the car and it's engine, etc. They wouldn't accept "I don't know" as an answer. She returned to the garage and began to go through the toolbox. She knew that Steve kept a folder in there somewhere with all the receipts and manuals. Finally, she hit the jackpot in the bottom drawer. She found a large, white binder covered with stickers and filled with receipts. This would surely answer any questions that anyone would have for her.