"God damnit!" I fumed giving another charged tug at the car hood. Still nothing.

"Well wasn't this all just peachy?" I muttered as I sat myself down on the hood and glared at the nothingness around me.

This had to be the worst week of my life, and not just because I was one year closer to the wrong side of 30. In typical Hollywood fashion, the awfulness started with a completely unexpected phone call earlier this week about my Great Aunt Joanna. You know, my Great Aunt Joanna? Yeah, well I didn't either. I had never met her before and my parents hadn't told me anything about her before they died.

I none-so-gently told the caller all of this and subtly tried to hint that "taking care of the body", as he put it, was not my responsibility. He responded I was the only living relative they knew of and if I did not take the body they would just burn her.

Now, I didn't have a problem with that plan but my subconscious did. While I had stubbornly rejected orthodox religion during my teens, my parents had been devote Catholics. From the two occasions of their will readings I remembered how admit they had been against cremation because a body was needed for resurrection. Any relative of my parents had to be strongly religious too and I refused to have a ghost haunting me because I denied them an afterlife.

So here I was, using all of my vacation time I had tediously been accumulating for my dream beach vacation to drive half-way across the country to Idaho to bury a women I didn't even know. You'd think with this selfless act I'd be putting good karma vibes out into the world for me. But no, nothing had ever really worked out the way I planned and 'Old Faithful' heaved her last breath and died on some forsaken road in Wyoming. A road that also happened to have no traffic or cell service. Life could not be worse.

Or maybe it could. The first few soft drops mockingly hit me before the downpour and lightening commenced. I jumped off the hood and ran to the door and tugged on it. Locked, my keys shimmering in the driver's seat.

"Damn it all!" I screeched slamming my hands on the glass as thunder echoed around me. I gave a few more slams for good measure before sinking down to the wet ground. This was how I was going to go, not with a bang but dying stranded in a thunderstorm. What a fitting ending to my sorry tale of a life.

It was in my wailing that I saw hope in the form of gleaming approaching headlights. Maybe the gods didn't hate me too much.

"Hey! Hey!" I sprang up and proceeded to stand in the middle of the road flailing my arms around. As if the car could get by without seeing me.

It stopped right in front of me and I ran to the driver's window. It was quickly lowered. An old man and a young girl were in the car.

"What can I do for you?" He asked with a cough and a careless smile.

"My car," I yelled over the rain. "It won't start and I can't get any cell service."

"Reckon you wouldn't, not this far out of town," He said. "Don't know how much I can help you now. Don't know much about cars myself. Storms supposed to be getting worse and Charles would have closed early cause of it so there ain't any point trying to push it to town."

"Great. Just great." I muttered. Of course this wasn't going to work out. "Is there a hotel nearby I can stay at?"

He shook his head. "Don't get enough visitors to keep one. Closest one is in Jackson, and that's at least 40 miles away."

Well, it looks like I was going to have to break my window and have a cozy sleep in the car until the rain stopped and I could figure out how to fix this mess.

"Any idea when the Charles would open tomorrow? And which way is the town?"

"Can't say for sure. If the storm does get worse, the road from Charles place will be too flooded to drive. Could be a few days. Towns about 10 miles that way." He pointed back down the direction he had come.

"Thanks anyway," I said giving his car a good tap and turning back to mine.

"Miss!" I turned back around. "Wouldn't feel right as a gentleman if I left you here like this. Why don't you come stay with us until we can fix your car? Can't promise much luxuries, but my wife is making lasagna tonight and she's mighty good."

Everything in me was screaming no. This was the plot of all major serial killer movies. If I went with him I'd be asking for trouble. But in turn, if I stayed and slept in my car surrounded by all this woods then I'd be the typical horror victim. Both causes would result in my untimely death. The first though would include food and I hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday. Best to die on a full stomach than an empty one.

"Um, alright," I said and he smiled, nodding his head for me to climb in the back. The heat of the car instantly hit me as I snuggled into my seat. I was thoroughly soaked and chilled to the bone.

"Sorry about the water," I apologized.

"Nothing to be sorry about," He responded I'm happily as he pulled away from my car and continued down the road. "Names Rick and this here is my granddaughter, Layla."

"El," I introduced. For the first time I had met them, the girl caught my full attention. She turned around and stared at me, her mouth dropped open in awe. Guess this was the first time she saw a stranger get in her car drenched.

"Layla don't you be staring," Rick chided her.

She looked at him with a pout. "But she's so pretty! I didn't know she'd be pretty."

Rick gave her a stern look but I laughed. "No, it's fine really. Please keep telling me how beautiful I am." It wasn't often--or really, it wasn't ever--that I got complimented on my looks. Andy always told me it was because my awful and spunky attitude made it impossible to get past to notice anything like looks. To which I responded he was a bitch and I didn't know why we were even friends.

"You are. Really." She nodded her head vigorously.

"Well you are absolutely stunning too," I said and she beamed back at me.

"Grandpa! Grandpa! She called me stunning!"

"Well don't get a big head now," He told her and she stuck her tongue out at him.

She turned back to me. "Where do you come from?"

"I'm from Chicago. It's in Illinois."

"Are you moving here? Will you move here and be my best friend?" She grinned wider at the prospect.

"Sorry sweetheart no. I'm just driving though."

"But you could move here?" She pleaded.

"Now Layla," Rick chided in.

"But she could!" Layla pouted.

The rest of the ride was about the same, Layla asking more questions, me answering, her grandfather jumping in whenever he thought she was being too rude. It was nice though, to see family acting so comfortable with each other. It had been a long time since I had seen such an open display myself.

"Here we are," Rick said as he pulled up to a country style home. I looked around but couldn't see any other houses. Not a good sign for my serial killing theory.

Layla jumped out of the car and raced through the rain to the house. I sat for a moment longer, heart pounding, when I hear my car door open. Rick was standing there with an umbrella and he smiled at me. I gave a small one back. Here goes nothing.