Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Logan and I quickly and quietly pack our overnight bags.
I think we are both in shock. What do I even bring home to a “sorry I’m having an affair” visit?
I throw in a couple of changes of underwear, socks, and comfy clothes and zip up the bag.
Logan grabs our toiletries from the bathroom and puts them in his backpack.
We have school tomorrow, but there is no way we will get back in time for classes.
Emerley is a two-hour drive north and with the snowy weather probably longer.
I take one last look around and make sure I have everything I need.
Logan slips his arms around my waist and pulls me in for a hug.
“Are you okay?” he asks gently.
“Nope. Not even a little bit,” I say, resting my forehead to his chest.
“I’ve got you. Whatever you need, okay?” He bends down and kisses the top of my head.
“I know.” Looking up into his brown eyes, I ask, “Have I told you how much I love you today?” Logan is my person. Always has been. Always will be. I can’t imagine my life without him.
“You showed me earlier,” he smirks down at me trying to lighten my heavy feelings, “but I’m not sure you have actually told me, though.”
I playfully pinch his side. “I love you, Logan James. You are my favourite.”
He smiles softly as he pushes my hair behind my ear. “And I love you endlessly, Hannah Knight. You are my favourite. We will figure this shit out together, okay? I’ve got you,” he repeats.
“Thank you.” Standing on my tiptoes, I place my hands on his chest and gently kiss his lips.
Turning, I reach into the closet and grab Logan’s winter coat and boots and hand them to him, then pull on my own down coat, boots, and toque.
I will be so glad when this winter is over, I’m sick of the endless cold and snow. “I’m ready when you are.”
Outside, he opens the door to his red 2004 Silverado and helps me get in.
His truck is old, but he takes great care of it.
The four-wheel drive will be much safer than my small Kia.
Taking his keys, I start the truck, to give it a chance to warm up.
He takes a few minutes to brush the snow off the windshield and hood, then climbs into the cab.
He looks over at me as he raises the console of the split bench seat.
“Slide over, I don’t want you so far away from me.
” I scooch towards him, and he helps me buckle up.
I lay my head on his shoulder and after putting the truck in gear, he places his right hand on my thigh and squeezes a couple times reassuringly.
The winter sky is darkening and it’s getting colder as the snow continues to fall. I think February is the worse month of the year, because it’s so grey and dreary. But this is pretty; it looks like we are in a winter wonderland. I wish I could appreciate it.
I’m grateful when Logan suggests stopping for coffee before we leave the city.
I haven't eaten anything since mid-morning. I can’t even think about food right now.
I’m hoping the caffeine will help me ward off the dull ache in my head.
Logan got me a bagel and cream cheese and a donut just in case I change my mind.
He has the heat cranked up high and the volume of the radio low.
The snow is coming down heavily, but he’s a confident driver so I’m not worried. At least not about that.
He keeps the conversation flowing as busy highways turn into quiet, winding country roads.
The topics stay light as he tries to distract me from my intrusive thoughts.
Tales about classmates in his third-year economics program.
Hometown gossip he heard from our friend Riot.
Let's face it, there is always gossip and now my family has been thrown into the centre of the rumor mill.
“I’m afraid,” I whisper over the sound of the windshield wipers when there is a lull in the conversation.
“Talk to me, baby. What are you afraid of?” He glances down at me before putting his eyes back on the slippery road.
“I don’t know what we are walking into. I’m worried about Mom and how she is going to handle this. Do you think he has already told her or is he waiting for us?” Taking a deep breath, I confess my biggest fear. “What if he leaves her?”
My mom was diagnosed with bipolar disorder when I was a little girl.
The doctors initially thought she was experiencing postpartum depression, but as more symptoms presented and stayed, they altered her diagnosis and treatment plan.
Finding the correct medication has been an ongoing nightmare for her.
I’m terrified she won’t be able to manage this level of stress and betrayal.
Taking his hand off the wheel, he lightly squeezes my knee. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I wish I had answers for you.”
As we pull into town I begin to twist my hands in my lap anxiously. Logan takes one and holds it in his own. “I’ve got you. Just breathe.” I swear I’m trying.
Main street is quiet tonight. Many of the stores and restaurants have closed early because of the weather I presume.
Most of the shops have cheery Valentine's Day displays in their windows.
The lampposts have white lights strung between them.
Though the snowplows have recently been through, the roads are still snow-covered.
How can everything look so peaceful when my life has become anything but?
Logan slowly makes his way to my house. The trees lining the street hang heavy with the weight of the snow.
The roads have become quite slick in the past hour driving from the city.
As we pull up to the house, I can see all the lights are on inside and the snow has recently been removed from the sidewalk and stairs.
Instead of my dad's car in the driveway, there is a police SUV.
It takes me just a moment to process what I am seeing.
“Oh my god, my mom!” I yell as I jump out of the truck before Logan even has a chance to turn it off and rush towards the veranda.
Logan is right behind me when I throw the door open bringing the cold and snow with me.
Stopping short, I see two sombre-looking police officers talking to my mom, Grace, and Logan’s mom, Beth, in the open-concept kitchen.
I recognize the older of the two officers.
His name is Mason Kent, and he went to school with my parents.
I’m pretty sure he plays golf with my dad.
He is currently holding my mom's arms at her elbows as if to keep her standing.
I rush to her and look her over from head to toe assessing for damage.
“What’s going on? Are you okay? Where is Dad?
” I fire off questions in rapid succession.
She remains silent, staring ahead unfocused as Officer Kent moves carefully to stand beside her.
Turning, I kick off my wet boots toward the general vicinity of the entryway and drop my coat and hat into Logan’s waiting arms.
“Mom?” I touch her arm and try to get her attention. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” She doesn’t answer me.
Stepping back, I look from her to Officer Kent, and ask, “Are you here about the pictures posted online this afternoon? Do you know who shared them? Are they going to get in trouble?” I’m taking a risk asking because I have no idea what my mom does or doesn’t know. She’s clearly upset.
The officers exchange looks, having a wordless conversation. My mom hangs her head and begins to cry. I’m startled when Beth rushes over and pulls her into her arms before I have a chance to go to her.
Officer Kent hesitantly releases Mom, steps closer to me and looks directly into my eyes. “We are aware of the social media posts, but that isn’t why we are here,” he speaks quietly. “There has been a car accident on the road coming back from the cabin.”
“What are you talking about? What accident?” I interrupt.
Officer Kent takes a deep breath to collect himself and continues. “Your father was in a car accident. We don’t know the exact cause yet, but the road around the lake is quite icy. The car spun off the road and hit a rock cut. We will know more tomorrow once the scene is completely processed.”
“My dad's car? Is he okay?” Gasping, my fingers touch my lips as I look back and forth between the two men.
“I’m afraid not.” Officer Kent looks towards my inconsolable mother then back to me. “I’m so sorry to tell you, but he appears to have suffered a massive head injury and was pronounced dead at the scene two hours ago.”