Not Quite Forever
Page 84Dakota had to lean forward in the car to see the road signs, and even then, they were covered in snow.
“It’s not this one,” JoAnne said when Dakota slowed the car down.
She drove a little farther, listened to JoAnne tap her fingers against the armrest. “Can’t we go a little faster? I’d really like to get to bed before midnight.”
“Do you want to drive?”
“My husband just had open heart surgery. No! I don’t want to drive.”
Dakota took her eyes off the road for only a second to glare at JoAnne. “Then kindly be quiet and let me get us home safely.”
“My home is not yours.”
Dakota tried not to take offense. “You’ve made that painfully clear, Mrs. Eddy.”
“Then please refrain from calling it home.”
Her back teeth ground together. “Yes, ma’am, I’ll do my best.”
“Oh, now you’re being sarcastic. Your accent always makes an appearance when you’re trying to dig at me.”
She glanced left, looking for the giant boulder that signaled the upcoming street. “It’s a wonder as to how I don’t sound like this all the time, don’t you think?”
“I don’t care for you.”
Dakota was about to tell JoAnne the feeling was mutual, and then decided to try something different. “Well, that just sucks for you. I’ve actually grown fond of you.”
JoAnne twisted her head to stare out the window. “Oh, please.”
JoAnne huffed, but didn’t say a word.
“You raised two great children. Brenda’s just a doll.”
Dakota kept searching for the rock, didn’t see it. Probably up ahead. Going as slow as she was, it was a wonder they had gone so many miles.
“Did you like Larry when he and Brenda first started dating?”
“Larry was always a gentleman.” Yes, but Dakota knew that JoAnne had given him trouble at first.
“Bless his heart. A gentleman will always win a woman’s devotion.”
JoAnne scoffed, peered over the dash. “I think you missed the turnoff.”
Dakota slowed the car, which didn’t take much. “I did?”
There weren’t any lights ahead or behind them. “Should I turn around here, or is there someplace wider up ahead?”
JoAnne sat back, crossed her arms. “There’s another road a half mile or so up, we can go around the back way. Driving downhill in this isn’t nearly as easy as driving up.”
Dakota wanted to argue. Her shoulders were killing her for all the tension she was holding. Deep inside, the baby kicked her. I’ll get us home.
The half a mile came and went, still no turnoff. “Is it farther up?”
“It must be.”
They kept driving. Two miles later, Dakota took her time turning around. She put the car in low and crawled back down.
“You think?”
“This is it. I do live here.”
Dakota stopped the car, looked down the snow-laden street, the tall pines were covered with snow and it was coming down so hard the windshield wipers couldn’t keep up even at the highest speed. “Now is not the time for grandstanding, JoAnne. Getting lost out here isn’t something I want to do.”
“That isn’t likely.”
Everything was a blanket of white, all landmarks were gone, and the dark made it even harder to see.
Dakota turned down the road and watched the tracks behind her fill with new snow.
Walt checked his watch for the third time in fifteen minutes. He huddled over his cup of coffee and checked his phone.
He left a third message at home and still he hadn’t heard from Dakota. The snow was coming down, which added to the anxiety crawling in his chest.
Finally, he called Brenda. “Hey, sis.”
“Oh, no. Is everything OK?”
“Dad’s fine. Stanley’s right. He’s a tough bastard.”
His sister sighed. “Oh, good. How are you holding up? Did they find you a bed? Those foldout chairs kinda suck.”
“No, not yet. Listen, have you heard from Mom or Dakota?”
“No. They left when we did.”
“You know how it is driving up there in the snow. Slow. I’m sure they’ll call soon.”
He needed to hear that. “Do they still plow the road?”
“Of course. There’s been some new housing developments going in, so it might take them a little longer to make the rounds, but they go nonstop.”
“Good. Well, if you hear something from Mom, call me.”
“Why don’t you just call Dakota’s cell? The service up there isn’t that spotty.”
“Her phone died.”
“Call Mom’s then.”
Good point.
He hung up and dialed his mother’s number. When it went directly to voice mail, he started to panic all over again.
As the clock struck ten thirty, Walt woke Larry. “No one is answering. There’s no way it takes two and a half hours to get up that hill.”
“We’re lost.”
“We are not lost. I’ve lived here for thirty-five years.”
“I don’t care if you’ve lived here for sixty years. We’re lost.” Dakota stopped the car, put it in park. “The more we drive in circles, the harder it will be for anyone to find us.”