Chapter FourteenHome Again
Once we turned off the tollway, the roads were much worse. Bill drove much slower down a mostly drifted country road, telling me he had front wheel drive. I wasn't sure how that would help but I tried to be brave. There were bare fields on either side of us, with steep ditches where snow had filled and had made three- or four-foot drifts. We turned again, and the snow blew so heavy it became a white-out. Blizzard.
“This is terrible,” I said, fear ratcheting up in me for our safety.
“We'll make it. Trust me,” he said with a smile.
I grasped each side of my seat with my gloved hands in a desperate clutch which I felt would leave permanent indentations, once we were home. I couldn't see two feet in front of us at times. Yet, he made stops and turns as though he
