The Blue Phantom: Part Two – The Finish(Rich Puckett) ### **Chapter 4: Under the Hood and Over the Moon**

Tommy wiped grease from his hands as Paula tightened the last bolt on the Blue Phantom’s carburetor. The old Ford had sat dormant for months after that strange, miraculous night—but now, under the flickering garage lights, it was coming back to life.

"You sure you don’t wanna paint it?" Paula teased, nudging him with her elbow. "Maybe hot pink? Really make a statement."

Tommy smirked. "Not a chance. Blue’s its color. *His* color."

Paula’s grin softened. She knew who he meant.

They’d been inseparable since the race—since the night Tommy had finally made peace with his father’s ghost. Now, between school, part-time jobs, and stolen kisses against the hood of the Phantom, they were rebuilding more than just a car. They were building a future.

Tommy reached for her hand, his thumb brushing over her grease-stained knuckles. "Think we’ll have it ready by spring?"

Paula leaned in, her breath warm against his cheek. "If we work nights? Definitely."

And just like that, the deal was sealed.

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### **Chapter 5: The First Race – Two Hearts, One Ride**

Race day arrived in a blur of engine checks and nervous laughter. The Blue Phantom gleamed under the pit lights, its restored body humming with promise. But this time, Tommy wasn’t alone in the driver’s seat.

Paula buckled in beside him, her hands clenched in her lap. "You *sure* this is a good idea?"

Tommy grinned. "Scared?"

"Terrified," she admitted—but her eyes sparkled.

The Christmas tree lights dropped.

**GREEN.**

The Phantom roared to life, tires screaming against asphalt. Tommy felt Paula’s grip tighten on his arm as they shot forward, the wind whipping through the open windows. For the first time, the car didn’t feel haunted—it felt *alive*.

And then, halfway down the track, disaster struck.

A competitor’s car swerved too close, clipping the Phantom’s rear fender. The crowd gasped as the Ford fishtailed—

—but Tommy didn’t panic.

Paula’s voice cut through the chaos. *"Easy, easy—you’ve got this!"*

He steadied the wheel. The Phantom straightened like a racehorse finding its stride.

And then they *flew*.

When they crossed the finish line, the crowd erupted. Tommy barely heard the announcer scream *"NEW TRACK RECORD!"* over the blood pounding in his ears. Paula threw her arms around his neck, laughing into his shoulder.

"We *won*," she breathed.

Tommy held her tighter. "Yeah," he whispered. "We did."

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### **Chapter 6: The Finish Line**

One week later, beneath a canopy of checkered flags strung between pit crew trailers, Tommy and Paula stood hand-in-hand. The Blue Phantom sat parked behind them, its hood polished to a mirror shine. On an upturned crate between them, the race trophy glinted in the sunlight—their trophy.

The preacher cleared his throat. "Dearly beloved…"

Tommy barely heard the words. All he saw was Paula—her sunflower-yellow dress, the way her freckles darkened in the summer sun, the tears she kept blinking back as she squeezed his hands.

When it came time for vows, Paula went first.

"You taught me how to love something reckless," she said, voice wavering. "And how to trust it anyway."

Tommy’s throat tightened. He hadn’t prepared anything. But as he looked at her—at the car—at the ghost of a man who’d given him one last lesson—the words came anyway.

"Racing’s about finish lines," he said quietly. "But you? You’re the ride I never wanna end."

The preacher pronounced them married. The small crowd—Uncle Timmy, Charlie, Tommy’s mom (who’d finally, *finally* come back to the track)—cheered as Tommy kissed his wife.

And as they pulled away, Tommy could’ve sworn he heard it—the faintest echo of an engine revving in the distance.

Paula heard it too. She smiled against his lips.

"Told you he’d show up," she whispered.

Tommy laughed, and for the first time in his life, the road ahead felt wide open.

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