don't it hurt so bad when you're standin' in the sun;
Bum leg or no bum leg, there was no way Connie could be kept away from the garage for long. Mike and Duff made it difficult, at first, but once the ridiculous boot cast had been downgraded to a simpler brace-like contraption, it was easier for Connie to get around and easier for her to convince her relatives that, no, she was not a gimp, dammit, and she was still capable of pulling her weight at work.

It had been a hectic weekend, everyone and their mother coming in for repairs before Labor Day. Every last second of downtime found Connie completely focused on her pet project, the '66 Mustang. Duff laughed every time her found her there, most of her upper torso inside the engine block and up to her elbows in transmission fluid and coolant.

"Jesus, Monkey," her cousin smirked. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you actually wanted to get this thing finished."

Connie grunted in response. Duff laughed and mentioned something about running to the post office -- again, Connie merely grunted. She heard her cousin's footsteps as he exited, and there was the rumble of his big old four-by-four. There was a brief pause as she reached over to the nearby CD player and punched a button. A few rasping notes from an old steel guitar played in the intro and as Connie kept focused on her work, she let the song wash over her.

'Just like a bird without a feather
You know I'm lost without your love...'

[OPEN]