I understand that it's important to say, that while I love the guys of 51 and the rest of the cast, I don't own them. I wouldn't mind if I did, but I don't. No profits from this story, etc., etc. etc.

This is a delayed response to Ginger S's call for stories responding to the quotation: "Life comes with no guarantees, no time outs, no second chances." One-shot. Many thanks to Ginger for encouraging me to write a story not only did she do that, but she read and beta-ed the story too.

This is the first FF I have ever "put out there" so strangers could actually read it. Please let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is welcome. Thanks!

Rating- T (for language) Tragedy/Comfort

Chapter one

When I woke up this morning, I said to myself, "Claire, this is going to be the biggest, most wonderful day of your life." After waiting and dating for too many years, I was ready to marry my best friend, Paul. We worked in the same company for some time, before we even knew each other's names. Then a sweet friendship blossomed into something more. And hey, isn't that what all the experts recommend? "Become friends first." We both work for Travel International magazine. I'm a writer and he shoots the most amazing photographs! Okay, I'm a bit biased, but we have made the cover a few times.

Well, that's how we met and became friends and today, we are going to be married! While Paul is an incredible man, our circumstances leave something to be desired. We have planned a small, intimate service at our church with a few friends from work, joined by our church family.

Our biological families – I refuse to call them our "real families" any longer - they do not approve of our relationship. There are so many reasons to choose from for their distain and rejection. There's simple economics, his family is wealthy, and mine is not. We have both left the severe structure of hyper-organized religion and now worship in a local Bible believing church. But the real deal breaker for both of them is simply, color.

Paul's skin glistens a rich mocha in the sunlight. I love his lilting Jamaican accent! His brown eyes are kind, funny and wise, in turn. Me? I'm white, with mousy brown hair and blue-green eyes. I come from a white bread, middle America farming family. While I still love my folks, I can't say that I respect them much anymore. They disagreed when I left home for college and complained when I started getting international assignments going to those "heathen foreign countries." I can still hear the tone in my mother's voice as she voiced her opinion. And, the kicker was when I ended up living in a small apartment in Los Angeles, CA. They predicted it would all "come to no good." Our wedding plans cinched it for both his parents and mine. They refused to come and be any part of our celebration. But we have worked through it together, so we are okay with it. We would rather be joined in our small church by a few friends that really love us, than have some huge catered "event" with people who disapprove of us.

Of course I was nervous as I waited to walk down the aisle. But, my good friend and Maid of Honor, Beth helped me calm down. She reminded me how much I loved Paul. I knew in my heart and mind that Beth was absolutely right. I loved Paul more than I can express and I was eager to start our life together.

I followed Beth down the aisle. I walked by myself. Paul stood at the front of the church with a huge smile on his face, as he waited for me. His simple gray suit was complimented by the white daisy on his lapel. I wore a simple mid-calf white dress with sandals. A wreath of woven flowers adorned my hair. It might sound like a "hippie" wedding, but we're both actually pretty traditional. When I reached the front of the church we joined hands and smiled at each other. There were readings from Scripture and one of our good friends from church played his guitar. Steve sang a beautiful love song he wrote, just for us. We followed the Pastor's lead, as we promised to "love, honor and cherish, 'til death do we part." We exchanged simple gold bands as a sign and a token of that love.

The rest of the time passed in a blur. It didn't matter that it was raining out, or that no one remembered to bring rice to throw when we left the church. I felt happy and grinned so much that my smile started to hurt! I was more than just happy. My body and mind were flooded with joy.

Paul and I headed for my blue VW bug. Our friends had actually tied tin cans to the back of the car! I thought they only did that in cheesy movies, but it was actually kind of fun! A few of the cars that whizzed by honked their horns and we waved. Our friends would join us at a restaurant about 15 minutes away to continue the celebration. I set my bouquet of white and yellow daisies in the backseat. Paul took off his jacket and tie and tossed them in the back of the car near the flowers. I smiled to myself knowing how much he hated getting dressed up.

I eased the car out into traffic and took the next exit for the highway. Paul and I chatted and grinned a lot at each other. "We did it babe," he exclaimed as he gave my right arm a squeeze. We are actually, finally married!"

Cars were buzzing along, over the speed limit, of course, even in the rain. I figured I better stay in the slow lane, even though we were going at a decent clip. I didn't want the silly tin cans to cause anyone else a problem. Only a couple of minutes passed when I heard a horn honking behind me. It didn't sound like a friendly beep either. I glanced in the rear view mirror and saw a black truck. He was too damn close! I sped up some. I thought I might change lanes, but there was too much traffic. I didn't understand. I was in the slow lane, why they heck was he honking like that at me?

Paul wrenched himself around in the seat trying to get a better look at what the heck was going on. I just concentrated on keeping the car on the road. Then I felt a jolt. "What the heck?" I asked Paul. "What does he think he's doing?" Then we felt another bump, only harder this time.

"Claire," Paul told me, "this guy isn't fooling around. Can you pull over?" I looked over at the side of the road, but there wasn't any shoulder, just some concrete barriers.

"What is wrong with him?" I said frantically, as the fenders met again.

"I think we have a serious problem," Paul answered. "I think I saw a black pick-up like this outside the church."

I didn't know what to make of that. We had to get out of this! I rolled down my window and tried to wave him past me. Maybe he was just pissed that I was only going the speed limit. Who knows? Maybe he just got divorced and hates married people?

I caught a glimpse of the truck out of my side mirror. Thank God, he was moving into the next lane to pass. But then I felt another jolt. IT felt like he hit us right between the bumper and rear wheel. The push sent us right towards the concrete barrier. I fought with the steering wheel to keep my bug under control. The truck moved next to us. Their window was rolled down. As they came even with my window, a guy leaned out the window and yelled out, "N***** Lover!" I felt something hit me and their truck smashed right into the side of my car.

I screamed and I'm pretty sure Paul did too. "Hold on babe," he shouted as our car started to spin and head straight for the side of the road and that concrete barrier. We slammed into it once, maybe more. I heard a horrible crunching sound, another scream and then nothing. The world around me faded to black.