Culture Shock

Harper had always thought that driving through snow at night must be what rocketing through space looked like. The white flakes looked like tiny points of light speeding around them in the darkness – like hitting warp speed on the Enterprise. Her Scotty was currently white-knuckling it along a narrow, winding country road.

Her best friend, Cam, was a city boy through and through. He hadn't even gotten his drivers' license until he had moved to Raleigh, North Carolina from London at twenty-five. He told her he hadn't needed it until then with public transport as good as it was in the city of his birth. "The Tube, love, is a glorious thing," he'd told her more than once. "Raleigh should really invest in their own."

Raleigh, however, didn't have a subway and buses weren't exactly easy to get around on. Cam managed well enough, however, navigating in the bumper-to-bumper traffic there and traveling at high speeds on the interstate that surrounded it, but the mountain roads of southwest Virginia were a completely different experience. The snow coming down steadily wasn't helping either.

"Cam, I can take over," Harper offered again. "I know these roads like the back of my hand. I'm fine."

The perfectly coiffed, blond man flicked his bright blue eyes in her direction. "You are not fine, darling," he insisted. His upper crust British accent making everything he said sound like a royal pronouncement. "You've had a terrible shock and you're not driving."

Harper heaved a breath. "Getting ourselves dead would be a bigger shock," she muttered. "Really. There's a Stop n' Shop just up the road here. Let's pull over and at least take a break."

"Where?" Cam squinted out the front windshield, trying to see any semblance of civilization.

"See that little light up there on the left?" Harper pointed to a speck of light in the pitch blackness ahead of them. "That's it."

"How can you tell? That could be anything." He leaned forward in his seat trying to make it out.

"Because it's been there since before my daddy was born." Harper's eyes rolled toward the ceiling. "I told you, like the back of my hand."

"I'll have to trust you, love. I can't see a bloody thing." He paused. "And don't think I missed that eye roll."

That made Harper grin, and roll her eyes at him again. She honestly didn't know how she ever got along without Cam.

A couple of minutes later, he pulled in and parked, leaning back in the seat with a loud sigh. He massaged his hands and rolled his head to look in her direction. "Are there no straight roads at all in this godforsaken part of the world?"

Despite her fatigue and grief, Harper grinned at him. "Not a one." She shook a finger playfully in his face. "And I'll have you know this is God's Country. You'd better not say stuff like that around the locals."

"If you say so. I guess even God needs a place to hide occasionally," Cam mumbled. "Does this place at least have coffee, do you think?"

"I know they do," Harper assured him, opening her door. Freezing wind whipped strands of hair that had escaped her French twist across her face, and she shivered before pulling herself out of the bucket seat. "Mrs. Overbay will have a fresh pot on and, if we're lucky, she may have some apple dapple."

"What in the world is an apple dapple?" Cam asked, throwing his hands up in the air and giving her a piercing look.

"It's a special kind of apple cake. You'll love it!" Harper let the wind slam the car door shut and headed for the warmth of the small, country store.

"Finally, things are looking up." Cam turned up the collar of his short jacket and hugged his arms across his chest as he followed Harper. She'd told him he'd need a hat and gloves at the least, but he hadn't listened. It was only about three hours from Raleigh. He wouldn't believe her when she'd told him the weather could be completely different. This high up, they were their own little microcosm, and if there was any snow around to be had, they were going to get it.

The bell tinkling over the door announcing their arrival sparked a cascade of memories in Harper's mind. The old, warped floorboards under her feet were exactly the same as were the smells of stale coffee, ripe apples, fresh biscuits and a smidgen of old cigarette smoke underneath. They were near tobacco country here and 'no smoking' laws came late to the county. Abiding by said laws came even later. She saw Cam's nose wrinkle, and her lip quirked up. This whole trip was going to be a huge culture shock to him.

"Lawd, is that you Harper Carrington?" A woman's creaky voice came from behind a counter cluttered with small baskets of homemade fried pies, peanut butter balls, and a tall, plexiglass case of state lottery tickets.

"Yes, ma'am," Harper smiled at the woman as she came around the counter and threw her soft arms around her.

After the embrace, she held Harper at arms' length and surveyed her with sharp, black eyes. "You're a sight. Pretty as ever and so fancied up!" Her voice lowered. "I'm so sorry about your daddy, Harpie. Such a shock for everyone." She tsked and shook her head stepping back. "I've said for years those logging trucks are a danger to everyone on the road!"

"Yes, ma'am," Harper repeated, the weight of the reason for her trip falling back onto her shoulders.

Cam put an arm around Harper and hugged her to him. "Would you have some coffee available?" Cam shot a charming smile at the tiny woman. "And I hear there is something called 'apple dapple' that is not to be missed."

Mrs. Overbay's bushy grey eyebrows almost hit her hairline when she heard Cam's smooth British tones. "And who's this, Harpie?"

Harper cringed a little at the old nickname. She'd always hated it. "This is my friend, Cameron Thomas. He's come to help me with everything. Cam, this is Mrs. Overbay. She's owned this store as long as I can remember."

"Fifty years." The elderly lady's back straightened with pride. "Nice to meet ya, young man. Welcome to the mountains."

Cam gave her a courtly little bow and she tittered at him. "Go on with you! I'll get y'all some coffee and cake and get you on your way. The weather's getting iffy."

"Thanks, Mrs. Overbay. We appreciate it," Harper called as the woman disappeared through a doorway into the small, attached area that had several tables and chairs. At first light, they would be filled with farmers, catching up and trading information and gossip before the day's work.

Before they'd barely even had time to look around, Mrs. Overbay was back with two steaming cups of lidded coffee and a white baker's bag. "What do we owe you, love?" Cam fished for his wallet as Harper took the proffered goodies.

Harper thought she might have seen a slight blush crawling up the septuagenarian's wrinkled face. "Phsst!" She waved away Cam's question. "I put some extra apple dapple in there for your mama, Harpie. You give her that and tell her we're thinking about y'all."

"Thank you, ma'am. I'll do that," Harper's eyes welled with tears at the woman's kindness.

As they climbed back into Cam's silver Audi and she sorted their coffee and apple dapple, her chest tightened at Mrs. Overbay's sweet gesture. Though he had been elected mayor for several terms, she knew her father was not well-liked by many in the county. He was proud and boastful and liked to throw his weight around. Her mama, however, was loved by everyone.

Jonah Carrington had brought Mitzi Baumann up from Mississippi after college. She was a Southern belle through and through and had a heart as wide as her Mississippi drawl that she never did lose even after the thirty plus years she had been living in the Southwest Virginia mountains.

Where her daddy liked to take things over and tell people what was going to happen, her mama volunteered to help people where they were. She started a women's group at the First Methodist Church that did nothing but try to help the poverty-stricken population in the area, which, unfortunately, was significant. They did a free dinner every Thursday in the church hall, ran a Christmas drive every year for underprivileged children, and had an ongoing class to help people study for their GED.

Her daddy had often scoffed at her mama's 'good deed gene' saying people needed to pull themselves up by their bootstraps and make something of themselves, not rely on handouts. Her mama would just smile her sweet smile at him and keep doing what she was doing.

Harper's brow creased. She realized she hadn't actually spoken to her mama since the night her sister, Brenna, had called her with the news. That evening was forever etched in her memory. She and her coworkers had been celebrating her achievement of becoming the youngest partner in the history of Carolina Realty, at Raleigh's iconic Angus Barn, when the call had abruptly shattered the fun festivities. She’d never forget her baby sister’s distraught voice over the phone overlaying the tinkling of glasses and conversation around her.

“Harper!” Her name was all she initially made out of Brenna’s hysterical crying. She quickly moved to the edge of the private dining area to try to hear better.

“Brenna, calm down. I can’t understand you. What’s happened?” Harper implored her sister.

“Harper, you have to c-c-come h-h-home. Now! Daddy’s g-g-gone!” Brenna stuttered through her tears.

Her words didn’t compute. “What? Where did he go? What are you talking about?”

“He’s dead, Harper!” Brenna cried. “Daddy’s dead.”

Harper felt the blood drain from her face and ice skitter down her spine. She reached out blindly for something to grab onto to hold herself upright. There was nothing. She felt herself slowly slide down the wall until she was sprawled on the floor. Cam had been at her side in a moment.

“Harper, what’s wrong, love? Do I need to call 911?” Cam grasped her shoulder as he squatted beside her. Harper couldn’t seem to form words. Where had all the air gone? She just stared at him and then back to the phone uncomprehendingly. The tinny sound of Brenna sobbing rang in her ears.

Cam grabbed the phone out of her hand. “Hello? Who is this?” She heard Cam demand of the caller.

“B-B-Brenna. It’s Brenna,” she hiccupped.

“Brenna, pet, what’s happened?” Cam’s voice softened when he recognized the name, and he brought his most soothing English tones to bear. “Do you need help?”

Before Brenna could answer, Harper’s voice returned. “My father is dead,” she said in a low, flat tone. She looked up into Cam’s face, her hazel eyes dark and almost blank. “I need to go home.”