Sweet Carolina Girls Part 1

Sweet Carolina Girls.

R. E. Bradshaw.

Chapter One.

Harper blinked a few times, letting her eyes adjust from the bright winter sunlight to the interior of the Tarr Barr and Grill. It had been a clear, but crisp February day and the golden sunset was pouring in behind her, as she hesitated at the door. When Harper was sure, she could see in front of her, she took a step toward the bar. The old wooden floor creaked beneath her.

Harper read about this bar in a neighborhood magazine she found, in the Welcome basket, on her doorstep. She was a new resident of Kerrville, which was located just outside of Chapman's Mill, in the research triangle area of North Carolina. She used the local magazine, as a guide, to get around to restaurants, dry cleaners, Wally World, the hardware store, all the essentials for a new homeowner, in a brand new town. Now, after a week of unpacking boxes, Harper was ready for a drink, even if it was alone.

The Tarr Barr and Grill had been around, in one form or another, since the late 1800's. The owners.h.i.+p pa.s.sed from generation to generation, of the Tarr family, and was now in the possession of Jane Tarr, a 61-year-old former Business Professor at the University of Carolina at Chapman's Mill. She took over the business twenty years ago and built the present manifestation of the bar. A microbrewery, out of an old tobacco warehouse and wood from torn down, flue-cured tobacco, barns. "The atmosphere celebrated the cultivating of tobacco, the heart of the North Carolina farming industry for more than four centuries," the article stated. A picture of Jane accompanied the article, and Harper was sure the plump woman with short blonde hair, smiling and gesturing to her, was the very Jane herself.

Harper stepped over to the woman and accepted her outstretched hand.

"Welcome to the Tarr Barr. My name is Jane. What can I do for you?"

The words drawled out with the southern charm Harper had learned was the accent of the well-educated southerner she interacted with, in her first few days in North Carolina. She had also experienced the less educated southern charm that was sweet and hospitable, and the put on charm of the southern "gentleman" who openly suggested un-charming things. Jane's charm seemed genuine. Harper found herself relaxing, in the warmth of her welcome.

"Hi, I read this was the place for a good beer and a great burger."

Jane ushered Harper to a seat at the bar. "Well, I do hope we live up to our press. Have a seat and I'll step behind the bar and wait on you, myself."

While Jane crossed behind the bar, Harper looked around. The place was exactly as the article had described. The faint smell of curing tobacco lingered in the air. All around on the walls were the ephemera of what had once been the "World's Greatest Tobacco Market." Harper visited her father's parent's tobacco farm every summer in Wilson County, North Carolina, until she turned sixteen. She even harvested tobacco for money, when she was old enough to work on the farm. Harper totally understood the pride and heritage of the now reviled tobacco farmer. In addition, she held the same position her grandfather held; the cigarette companies ruined the tobacco farmer. She wished her grandfather was still alive to see this place, but he pa.s.sed away of lung cancer three years ago, with a cigarette in his lips. Harper never smoked and never would, but she loved the smell of tobacco curing and this place brought back so many fond memories.

"Hey, where did you go?" Jane was speaking to her.

Harper refocused on the present, "The smell, it reminded me of my grandfather. He was a tobacco farmer."

"I hope it was a pleasant memory," Jane smiled at her.

"Yes, m'am, it was," Harper replied softly.

"Do you need a minute to check out the menu?"

Harper was so tired of making decisions from the move; she sighed and looked at Jane. "Why don't you fix me up with your favorite, I'm sure it will be delicious."

"A pork barbecue slaw burger with fries and a frosty mug of golden amber beer, we call Brightleaf. Does that sound good to you?"

"It sounds amazing. Thank you," Harper answered.

Jane poured the beer and disappeared into the kitchen at the end of the bar. Harper sipped from the icy mug and was pleasantly surprised at the full flavor of the home brew. She studied the objects on the back of the bar. Here and there were pictures of a smiling Jane with Michael Jordan, Dean Smith, Roy Williams and other Carolina players. Tar Heel basketball memorabilia filled in around the pictures. Jane was obviously a fan. The top of the bar back was lined with softball trophies and pictures of women's teams wearing uniforms with "Tarr Barr" across the chest. Harper studied the pictures, as best she could, from her seat at the bar.

The pictures were in frames with the year prominently displayed on the front. They went back fifteen years, starting in 1994. Some of the players appeared to be the same for a few years then fading back as others took their places. Beginning in 2004 there appeared to be a core group of five women who remained with the team up to the most recent picture. Harper was captivated by the women, who genuinely appeared to be having so much fun together. There was a tall, tanned, dark haired, very pretty woman who was always standing with the cute blonde, with a crooked smile and dimples. Another one was a little stocky, with a smile that seemed to be so welcoming. There was a small one that looked like a young s.h.i.+rley McClain and the last of the five had to be an elementary school teacher; she just had that look. The women looked to be in their early thirties or late twenties and appeared to be great friends.

Harper was lost in the pictures when Jane returned with the steaming sandwich and fries and a fresh mug of beer. Harper loved Carolina Barbecue and this looked and smelled heavenly. She did not realize how hungry she was until she felt her stomach roll over and growl, at the sight before her.

Jane spoke up, "I hope you like my barbecue. It's an old family recipe."

Harper took a bite and chewed slowly, relis.h.i.+ng the flavors before she swallowed. She smiled at Jane and gave an approving nod.

"That's really good. Now I know where I'll be eating my barbecue," Harper said after swallowing her first bite.

Jane c.o.c.ked her head and asked, "Are you just pa.s.sing through or a student at the University? I can hear a familiar accent and I'd bet money you are from Oklahoma, Southeastern Oklahoma to be exact."

Harper almost choked. She coughed a little and her eyes watered. It took a minute for her to gather her composure, and then she finally gasped out, "How in the world did you know that?"

Jane chuckled, "One of my girlfriends in college was from Durant and you sound just like her."

"Well, yes m'am, Boomer Sooner born and bred, about fifty miles northeast of Durant, in Antlers, Oklahoma, USA," Harper said, smiling brightly through her thickest Okie drawl.

"What in the world are you doing all the way out here?" Jane inquired.

"I'm doing research for my doctorate at UC. My grandmother lives in Wilson and she's the only family I have left, so I thought I'd spend as much time with her as I can. My name is Harper Lynch, by the way."

"Jane Tarr, it is a pleasure to meet you Harper. Let me guess, your mother loved To Kill a Mockingbird."

"Right again. She would have named me Scout, but Daddy wouldn't let her."

"Are you living here in Kerrville?"

Harper had taken another bite of her sandwich and only nodded yes.

"Well, welcome to the neighborhood Harper Lynch. I must say, you look rather young to be working on a doctorate."

Having just dispatched with a fry, Harper began the story she had told so many times, it was a memorized speech. If she just flew through it, the emotions would stay where she had put them, way back in a special place that she visited less and less often, as the years pa.s.sed.

"The summer between my junior and senior year in high school my parents were killed by a drunk driver. I had enough credits in December to graduate, so I did and started taking courses, at Midwestern Oklahoma, that spring. I played softball and went on full scholars.h.i.+p in the fall, after I turned seventeen. I graduated with a B. A. in Biology with an emphasis in Anatomy, at twenty. I graduated last spring with my Masters in Exercise Physiology. I'll turn twenty-four in June."

Jane's eyes showed deep concern as she said, "That's a lot to pack into a young life. I know athletes have a tough schedule and to complete all that difficult course work in such a short time is amazing."

Harper simply answered, "I had the money from the accident, so I just stayed at school during all the breaks and took cla.s.ses. I am an only child. I had no family to go home to."

"Well enough of that," Jane must have sensed the mood s.h.i.+fting and tried to lighten it, "I'm glad you're here with us now, and you play softball; that is a plus in here as you can tell." Jane pointed at the trophies.

Harper finished off the sandwich and slid the plate away from her. She looked at the trophies Jane indicated.

"I was admiring your bra.s.s, while you were making my sandwich. I would love to get in on a league. I play slow pitch or fast, it doesn't matter. Can you hook me up?"

Harper was hoping Jane could point her in the right direction. She dearly loved softball and had played since she was four. The last two summers she played on a co-ed, slow pitch traveling team, but now she needed to play in a local league considering the amount of time she would be working. What she really wanted was to play on the Tarr Barr team, she wasn't sure why, but she suddenly wanted to know the women in the picture.

Jane smiled back at Harper mischievously. "What position do you play, where do you hit in the line-up and what's your batting average?" Spoken like a true scout.

Harper was proud of her career and stats and spit them out matter-of-factly, "Third and shortstop mostly, bat third, fourth or fifth, and my batting average in slow pitch is around .650 to .750 depending on the compet.i.tion level and .435 in fast pitch."

Harper could see Jane's face light up. The wheels were turning, as she looked up at the picture from last year. Jane turned back to Harper, eyes gleaming, "I think you would fit right into our line-up. Our shortstop is pregnant. Would you consider playing on our team? They're a great bunch of girls. You can meet some of them tonight. We are having a team meeting before the season starts in April. We practice in March a few times a week. Does that sound like something you might be interested in?"

Harper said yes before she even thought about it. She looked at the pictures again and knew she needed these women in her life. She had no one in this new town and the prospect of meeting new people appealed to her. These women looked like fun and she wanted in on it.

Jane refused to take payment from Harper for her meal, "Call it a welcome to the team meal."

The team was meeting at nine, which was a few hours away, so Harper excused herself to go home and take care of Jasper, her dog. The other reason she needed to go home was to drop off her car and call a taxi. She never drove when she had more than two beers and tonight Harper thought she might have a few more than two. Harper was hoping tonight would be the beginning of her new life here in Chapman's Mill, North Carolina.

Chapter Two.

Ten minutes after leaving the Tarr Barr, Harper turned into the driveway of her new home. The long curved driveway wound through a wood patch that hid most of the front of the house from the street. The two storied, custom Cedar sided home, sat on four and a half mostly wooded acres. Harper had gotten the foreclosed property for a song because she had a large cash down payment. No one ever lived in the three-year-old home so it was as good as new.

Harper silently thanked her mother's parents, who had set up her trust fund when she was just a baby. Her mother had been the only child of an oil moneyed, older couple. With her parents' death, Harper had become a wealthy young woman. If she managed her money right, Harper could live comfortably for the rest of her life. She'd live on bread and water just to have her parents back.

Harper pulled into the two-car garage, which held a well-used ski boat already in the right hand stall. The ski boat was the only big item she kept of her parent's things. It held so many memories she could never part with it. Up to now, it had been in storage back in Oklahoma. She s.h.i.+pped it here by train, once she had a place to put it. She glanced over now and thought about waxing the hull on the next warm day.

Jasper was already clawing at the utility room door when she stepped up to it.

"Get down," Harper said, from her side of the door.

Silence followed just long enough for Harper to get the key in the lock and open the door a few inches. Although she had been working with the Dog Whisperer DVD's, she and Jasper still had a thing or two to work out. Coming home was one of them. He would calm down in ten seconds, but that first ten seconds was intense. Now that he weighed sixty pounds, the eleven-month-old Golden Retriever was beginning to be a handful. The door snapped shut with the weight of the Jasper's enthusiasm.

"Get down," Harper said once more.

Again silence. Harper added, "Really, get down on the floor. I can feel you breathing over there."

Reluctant claws receded away from the door. Harper opened it to find Jasper sitting in his bed, smiling. A major breakthrough was at hand. She forgot all Caesar's teachings and reacted with excitement.

"Good Boy! Good Boy, Jasper!"

The excitement was contagious and before long Jasper had Harper pinned to the front of the dryer. She couldn't resist his goofy grin and only rubbed his ears and gave him a big kiss. They'd work on the coming home thing again next time.

"Come on, you goof ball, let's go outside."

Harper led Jasper out the door and onto the huge deck. Later she would install a dog door with electronic collar, but until he was used to their new territory, Jasper would have to depend on Harper to let him out. Harper flicked on the exterior lights, illuminating the lush backyard and woods beyond. The area forming the backyard was fenced in, although you could not see the fence, as it weaved its way around the evergreen trees surrounding an open lush gra.s.sy area, large enough for a good volleyball court. Jasper was lost in the shadows attempting to mark every tree; this could go on for a while.

Harper stood on the deck, looking up at the two small decks built off the master suite above. When the weather warmed up she would need to get some plants. She looked in through the French doors to the first floor living area. She needed some real furniture, too, she thought. There in the dim light was a Wally World table and chairs surrounded by still more things to be put away. Paintings leaned against walls waiting to be hung. Vases and knick-knacks were here and there, stacked alongside shelving units still in the boxes.

Her grandmother, in Wilson, was moving into a.s.sisted living soon. She asked Harper to come down to the farm and pick out the antiques Harper wanted to keep out of the auction. Harper was as attracted to her grandfather's old tools, as she was the furniture. She grabbed several wood working tools that she wanted to display. After much inner turmoil, she decided to let the living and den furniture go to auction. The smoky smell, of too many cigarettes, would never come out of the stuff. She did select a bookcase, a pine wood desk, the old oak dining table and chairs, and several old oak cabinets she found in the barn. The last two items Harper placed on the list were the pine wardrobe from her grandmother's room, because she played in it as a child and wanted it to stay in the family. The other was the four-poster bed she always slept on, when she stayed on the farm.

Harper helped move her grandmother to her new home and was having all of the items from the farm delivered on Monday. She would finally have places to put things. Harper had forgone the wait on a bed and had a King size delivered two days ago. Jasper slept with her and he was already out growing the bed they slept on in Oklahoma. She bought a handmade sleigh bed frame and mission style bedroom furniture to go with it. She needed to get up there and take a shower before going out tonight. She turned to the darkness and whistled. The ever-grinning goof ball appeared out of the shadows, galloping toward the house. Harper had to laugh out loud at the pure joy Jasper expressed just being a dog.

Harper brushed Jasper quickly, fed him and got him settled down with a chew toy. She undressed, in her room upstairs and crossed into the bathroom, pausing to look at herself in the mirror. Harper had the taught athletic body of someone who worked at it. Her ripped abdomen came from hours of training.

At 5' 10", she was blessed with long graceful limbs and natural speed. Her hair went from sandy blond to straw blond, depending on how much sun she'd had. Her current hairstyle, which changed often, was shoulder length with wispy bangs and a little tapering. Her uncommonly expressive eyes went from deep green/blue to Elizabeth Taylor blue depending on the color Harper was wearing. She'd been told she was beautiful. Harper thought at best she might be cute.

A building excitement accompanied equally by growing nervousness took hold of Harper, while she showered. If Harper walked into a room filled with friends, she was gracious and poised, but put her in a room full of strangers and she hung to the outside, choosing to speak only when spoken to, engaging with the room slowly. Most people that knew her would laugh at the word shy, when used to describe Harper. Most of those people had forgotten how they met and how she acted then. A new town and new people meant overcoming the jumping beans in her belly.

Dressed in worn jeans, white mock turtleneck and favorite gray Midwestern sweats.h.i.+rt, Harper went downstairs to the kitchen, where she found her laptop bag in a chair. She dug around in the side pocket for a couple of antacids, chewed them up and chased them down with a gla.s.s of milk. Bottle of water in hand, she sat down at the little kitchenette. Placing his head in her lap, Jasper a.s.sumed the position for an ear rub.

Using her cell phone, because her cable and phone were not hooked up yet, she arranged for a taxi. It was nice to be this isolated in the woods, but still close enough to a city to get a taxi. She settled down to read the News and Observer, the state paper, and waited for the taxi. Unable to focus, on what she was reading, Harper looked at the to-do list on table.

"Jaz, we still have a whole lot to do, before I start work."

Jasper lifted his head and quizzed her with his eyes.

"Yep, I'm going back to work, but not too soon. We still have two weeks to hang together."

Jasper lowered his head and Harper resumed rubbing his ears, which was second best only to a belly rub. When the time grew close for the taxi, Harper checked that all the windows and doors were locked. She couldn't set the alarm, because the company needed to come out and re-do some of the sensors. They discovered early on that Jasper was setting off the alarm when he was in the house alone. The first time the police met her in the driveway, Harper had been scared to death. She didn't need that tonight.

"Alright young man, guard the forest well. I'll be back in a couple of hours, maybe more, but not too late." Harper believed animals liked to know when to expect you back. "You be a good boy."

Harper patted his golden head, as he escorted her to the front door. She had only waited a few minutes, when the taxi pulled up. She kissed Jasper, stepped on to the porch, locked the door and took a big breath. As she entered the taxi, Harper hoped it would be a good beginning.

Chapter Three.

Once again, standing in the doorway of the Tarr Barr, Harper looked around for Jane. The place was hopping with activity. All the tables Harper could see were full. The patrons were three deep at the bar watching a Carolina game on the wide screen. In seconds, Jane appeared from behind the bar with a tray of appetizers. She approached a young woman behind the host stand, pointed at the back of the seating area and handed the tray off to her. Jane then spotted Harper waiting by the door.

"Hey Honey, I'm so glad you made it," she said, as she hugged Harper like an old friend. "Most of the girls are already in the back. We have a little meeting room off the main floor, so we can hear each other. The music will start up in a few minutes, so it'll get loud."

Jane was already leading Harper through the tables. She didn't stop talking as she waved, slapped backs, and shook hands through the crowd. Around the edges of the room were old-fas.h.i.+oned wooden booths. The center of the room had a large hardwood dance floor, bounded on one side by a small stage. It was set up for what looked like a local band. Old wooden tables and mixed-matched chairs formed the other boundaries. Harper followed Jane through the maze to closed double doors, way in the back. Harper hadn't realized the full scope of the building this afternoon, because the lights were turned off in most of this section. This place was huge.

Jane opened one of the doors and waved Harper in, "Welcome to my private sanctuary."

Harper stepped into a dimly lit room. In one corner, a pot bellied stove glowed fire through the little grate on the front. The opposite corner was occupied by a small western style wet bar complete with beer taps and old-fas.h.i.+oned bar lights, dangling from one of the wooden beams lining the ceiling. On one wall was a big flat screen, also tuned to the Carolina game. The rest of the room contained three, six seat poker tables, the center one being occupied by a group of women. A few women stood, leaning on the backs of chairs. Behind the women, four men sat at the far table playing cards. Most of the heads turned when Jane and Harper entered the room.

"s.h.i.+t, Sandy. That's the best hand I've had all night." This statement was made by the blond man with a mustache standing up at the table in the back. He had a mug in his hand and started for the bar.

Jane laughed, "Is he whipping your a.s.s again, Ronnie?"

"h.e.l.l, yes," the man replied.

"Hey ya'll," Jane said in a way that demanded attention, "I said I had a surprise for you and here she is. This is Harper Lynch, three-year starter at Midwestern Oklahoma. In 2007 she was ranked fourth in the conference for RBI's and named first team All Conference third baseman. She is now working on her doctorate at UC. Her mother was a Sooner, but her daddy was a Tar Heel, so we can forgive her Midwestern s.h.i.+rt, for the moment."