“Where are we headed today?” She turned on the ignition and the wipers came alive, along with the heat, which was cranked too high for her to hear me. I waited for her to turn it down before I answered.

“Blue Anch—”

“Blue Anchor Grill it is,” Vera said. She pulled the gearshift into drive and took her foot off the brake. She inched toward the driveway, and the car gently rocked over the lumpy snow. “My granddaughter told me,” she said.

“Great.” I looked back at the gas station, and Amanda was waving goodbye.

“What’s at the Blue Anchor Grill? Because there are a few other local dives serving better food, unless you had a hankering for a greasy hamburger.”

“My boyfriend and our baby went out a while ago and haven’t come back, and I’m worried about them.”

“That’s it!” She slapped the dashboard, remembering. “You’re the couple walking on the shoulder with the baby. Earlier today?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“I knew you looked familiar,” she said. “Stan and I pulled over to ask if you needed any help. Remember?”

“Yeah, of course,” I said, flashing a smile. “Thank you.”

We got on the two-lane highway and Vera turned up the heat fan. “Is this good? Are you warm enough?”

“Actually, could we turn left here?” I pointed to the road that led to our cabin. “I want to see if they might have come back.”

“Sure thing.” The car fishtailed and the rear wheels couldn’t grab. “Oh dear. Hang on,” she said. She maneuvered the car in reverse, put her arm on the seat rest behind my head, and looked out the back window. I’d seen my father do this so many times, and it always made me feel like he was holding me and not just the back of my seat. While Vera focused past me and out the rear window, I studied her face. Wrinkles, droopy lids, small and tired-looking eyes. “Just lemme get a good run-up to it.”

“Does this have front-wheel drive?” I asked, looking at the automatic gearshift. Her choices were D, 1, and 2. I remembered Digger saying this car wouldn’t make it up the hill.

“Yes, it does, don’t you worry.” Vera smiled and shifted into 2, her lowest gear. She drove confidently, like she had experience in snow. We bolted up the hill, skidding and slipping, but stopped at the top, next to the cabin. Her car sat in the spot where Digger’s truck had been. A couple of deer perked up, spooked, and ran away into the woods, their white tails flashing a warning. “How long have your baby and your beau been gone?” asked Vera.

“Like three or four hours, I think,” I said. It was obvious they weren’t in the cabin.