A Change of Heart by Nancy Frederick

and the area code; the phone was out of order.  
    Annabeth walked on, expecting to reach the Ford dealer whose showroom was just outside town. She could see the tall blue sign in the distance and was certain they would be open, and someone there would have a jumper cable or whatever quick fix the car needed this time.   It was a bit farther than six blocks, and Annabeth walked quickly, her new shoes rubbing blisters on her ankles and little toes.   Entering the dealership, she heard two male voices and walked in that direction.
    "You think you're just so smart, don't you?"  
    "Look, we're on the same side here. We're both trying to save this business."
    "The business was just fine until you swooped down like some damn crusader rabbit.   Dad and I were doing just fine."
    "Dad asked me to come back.   You know that."
    "Yeah, Mr. Big Shot Financier.   Reorganize the whole business so I don't have a clue.   Set new hours.   Act like the boss around here."
    "Grady, what is it you want anyway?"
    "I want a life, the life I had, when we were doing just fine.   I don't want to be a slave to this place."
    "If we don't make some changes the business will go under in a year.   You know that."
    "I damn well don't know that.   And besides...."
    Annabeth walked up to the door where all the shouting was, but she didn't want to barge in, so she waited outside a bit, hoping the voices would calm.   She looked down at her watch.   It was a few minutes after five.   Maggie would soon start to wonder where she was.   She coughed, hoping she would be heard and the men inside would stop arguing.
    "Oh, go to hell!" said the first man, pushing out the door and past Annabeth without even seeing her.
    Annabeth took a deep swallow and walked toward the door.   She hated angry scenes like this and didn't want to appear an eavesdropper.   "Excuse me," she said softly.
    The man behind the desk looked up from his computer.   In one glance he took in Annabeth's situation and rose to greet her.   He was quite tall, and his white shirt was crisply starched.   His hair, formerly dark, but now shadowed with silver, was neat, as was the nicely trimmed beard he wore.   He smiled at Annabeth in a way that made her relax.   His eyes, black and sparkling, were confident yet kind, honest but also shrewd.   "Annabeth Copeland," he said.   "You cut your hair."
    "Yes," she said, startled, touching her hair, "But it's Welner now."   He was familiar looking….Her eyes opened wide, "Doug Hawkins!   My goodness!   Look at you--you have a beard! I thought you left town years ago."   She smiled at him then.   "It's so nice to see you again."   He remembered her long hair.   How amazing.
    He smiled back.   "How are those math skills?"
    She laughed.   "Probably no better than when you were my tutor.   Luckily I don't need them very often."
    "You were always an artist anyway, not a mathematician."
    Annabeth smiled at him again, thinking him sweet to remember her silly hobby.   "And you were always good at noticing the details about people."
    "Yes," he smiled, "And you look like a damsel in distress to me right now."
    "My car broke down a few blocks from here.   It needs jumper cables or something.   It breaks down all the time.   And I have food melting inside."
    "The mechanics are gone for the day, but let me see if I can help you."   
    "Thank you so much.   The car's parked a few blocks from here toward town."
    Annabeth looked down at her dress as Doug peered under the hood of her car.   He attached the jumper cables, but the engine wouldn't turn over.   She walked to the trunk and opened it.   The Jambalaya was fine, still pleasantly warm.   She lifted the lid of one of the coolers in the back seat.   The cake was sweating and looked ominously soft.   Carefully she lowered the cooler lid.
    Doug sighed as he raised his head from the hood, "I'm sorry, but I don't think I can get this vehicle going again.   I think the fuel pump is