"I think her concern is sweet," he said as we both shrugged into our jackets.
"I brought you two crazy kids a couple of coffees to go," June said, bustling out of the kitchen. "You come back and see us here in Whisper Hollow when you're not so pressed for time. Next time you'll have to try our waffles and legendary maple syrup. It's the best maple in the state," she boasted.
"We will," I promised, even though there really wasn't a "we" when it came to Grant and me. "Thank you, June," I said, impulsively giving her a hug. Maybe it was the cheesy Christmas decorations or I was touched by how concerned she was, but I felt an odd kinship with her. It made the stay in the roach motel last night that much worse knowing we could have stayed here instead if we had known about it.
Waving at June one last time, Grant and I left the warmth of the restaurant behind. We crunched our way to the car through the layer of snow that was effectively covering the ground.
"Do you want me to drive?" Grant asked. The offer was sweet, but I could see him eyeing the compact space behind the steering wheel skeptically.
"Don't worry about it, big boy. I got it," I teased, easily sliding my petite frame behind the wheel.
"Take it slow and easy," he directed as I pulled out of the parking lot and merged onto the highway.
I shot him a look that said I knew how to drive, even though I heeded his advice and let up on the accelerator a bit. The car still shimmied and slid on the slick highway. We didn't have a lot of weight in this small car. I let up on the accelerator a bit more as the snow fell even heavier. Our progress was slow, and I was beginning to think June was right. Only someone crazy would be driving on this road.
Without warning, the car lost traction. I barely had time to react as we slid sideways across the highway. Luckily, no cars were coming from the opposite direction. I removed my foot from the accelerator and stayed off the brakes. Thankfully, I had some experience driving on icy roads. I knew to turn the wheel in the opposite direction of our skid to keep the car from spinning around, but as much as I tried, we continued to slide sideways and down the short embankment. The car protested with a loud grinding noise and came to a jarring halt in a narrow gully off the side of the road.
Chapter 6
"Well, hell, that was fun," I muttered, gripping the steering wheel with shaking hands. The car was no longer running, but smoke was seeping out from under the hood.
"Are you okay?" Grant asked. I had a strange sense of déjà vu. Just yesterday he had asked me the same question after the plane crash.
"Yeah, but I'm starting to feel like we're in one of those Final Destination movies," I said, resting my head against the steering wheel. The vehicle shook slightly from Grant's laughter. As always, I was so glad I was here to amuse him.
"It's not funny," I stated, although my own lips began to quirk from watching him trying to hold his laughter in check.
"You're like the ultimate traveling bad luck charm," Grant said, between howls of laughter.
"Me? How do you know it's not you? I've never had this much trouble getting from one place to the other before," I said as my own laughter rippled through me. I guess under the circumstances, it was good that we had a sense of humor over our experience. It would definitely give us a story to tell.
"We better head back to Whisper Hollow," Grant said as the snow continued to fall.
"Seriously? How far do you think we've gone?" I wasn't relishing a walk along the highway in my designer boots that were designed more for fashion than function.
"It's probably less than five miles. If we're lucky, we can get back to town before the sun sets. Besides, what choice do we have? Look at your phone. There's no signal out here."
Terrific. Five miles might not seem like a big deal to him, but for someone like me, who avoided exercise like the plague, five miles might as well be ten miles. "Maybe we should wait for someone to drive by and help," I offered hopefully.
"Did I miss all the traffic driving by? I think this is rush hour. Even if a car does happen to be out in these conditions, there's no guarantee they'd stop for us. We could wind up waiting and then be stuck here all night. I don't know about you, but sleeping in this tuna can is not my idea of a fun time," he said. He pulled on the handle of his door to climb out, but it wouldn't budge. "Damn it," he grumbled. "It's stuck. You're going to have to climb out first and then I'll go out your side," he said, looking at the center console and steering wheel apprehensively.
"I can't wait to see this," I spurted out, laughing. It was almost worth the five-mile walk for him to finally be the butt of the joke. Almost.
Five minutes and multiple swear words, bumps and more swear words later, Grant and I were headed back the way we had come, this time on foot. Grant carried the recyclable Disney bag I had gotten from the airport that now contained a change of clothes for each of us and the necessary toiletries. I carried my purse with all our gadgets. He tried to talk me into leaving my laptop behind, thinking it would become dead weight, but I refused. My laptop was my life. I would drag my purse behind me through the snow before I left my laptop. I could tell he wanted to argue further, but he just shook his head, mumbling something about priorities. He didn't seem to get that my job was a priority and my laptop was a tool I needed.
I threw one last wistful look at the car that was already covered by a thin layer of snow. Pretty soon it would match the cover on the ground, which was up to my ankles. At first, I was okay walking along. It was kind of nice to have the snow floating down around us. Even as cold as I was at first, after twenty minutes of brisk walking while trying not to slip, I had warmed up and was tempted to take off my jacket. Once the wind kicked up, it was a different story. Neither Grant nor I talked as we trudged forward with the swirling snow whipping into our faces. Grant stuck close to me, lending a hand when the soles of my boots caused me to slip.
Forty minutes into our journey, I finally broke the silence. "So, what do you do for a living now?" I asked, huffing slightly in the brisk air. I had been dying to know what he had been up to since I left Woodfalls. I was just always too afraid to ask. He may think I'm crazy for asking now, but it was a way to pass the time.
"I took over for my dad at the lumber yard. He still comes in every day, but he basically turned over the day-to-day responsibilities to me when I graduated," Grant answered, not sounding nearly as winded as I was.
"Wow, that's great. I was afraid after the fires in '09 the plant was going to have to close," I admitted. My father had kept me abreast on what was going on while I was away at college. It was all he could talk about every time I called home. He was worried and rightfully so. He had been the shift manager at the plant for twenty years. The lumberyard was his life. He wasn't the only one. Half the population in Woodfalls had ties to the plant in one capacity or another.
"That was a tough year, but I helped out whenever I wasn't in class. There was some rebuilding that needed to be done, but everyone really pulled together," Grant said.
"That's Woodfalls," I said nostalgically. "Whisper Hollow kind of reminds me of Woodfalls," I added. He nodded his head in agreement and I felt a wave of homesickness. In the four and half years I'd been gone, I had only returned for short stints, mostly around the holidays. It was the seasons I missed the most. Like the fall when the leaves changed colors in September and early October. The landscape would be a painter's canvas of yellow, red and orange. Spring was equally enchanting as new life bloomed in the plants that had been dormant all winter.
"Sounds like you miss it," he said, looking at me with surprise.