New Year's Eve by Marina Endicott

Chapter One

    The snow started before we left home.
    We were supposed to leave at nine that morning, but Grady had worked the night before. And for twelve nights before that. The other guys got time off, but Grady had worked right through Christmas. He was the newest RCMP constable in Drayton Valley, so he got all the rough shifts.
    He was supposed to be through at four in the morning, but he didn’t make it home till noon. Then he was so tired he had to sleep for a while. The baby was already in her snowsuit. I took her out of it again.
    We didn’t leave till three. The sun was already fading down the winter sky.
    And then when we stopped at Edmonton an hour later for gas, the bank card wouldn’t work. I went inside to pay, but it still got declined. I re-counted the days since payday with a shaky feeling in my knees. Then I went back to the car.
    “I made a big mistake,” I said, when Grady rolled down his window. “I thought today was payday, but it’s not till next Wednesday.”
    “Oh, Dixie,” he said.
    “I’m sorry.” I stood there, sick.
    “Nothing left in the bank?”
    I shook my head. He undid his seat belt. He walked inside, reaching into his wallet for the credit card his dad gave him. “For emergencies,” his dad had said. Grady hates using it.
    I have to say that Grady did not blame me or say I spent too much money. We just didn’t make enough, we both knew that. But I was supposed to keep track.
    By the time we left Edmonton, it was getting dark. Five more hours to Saskatoon.
    Snow filled the air like feathers from a burst pillow. I never worried while Grady was driving. But with the baby sleeping in the back, the snow scared me.
    I looked back to check on her. Sweet flower face in a sea of bright paper. We had packed the Christmas presents for Grady’s family around the car seat.
    Her lips moved in and out as I watched, as if she was sucking.
    “She’s hungry even in her sleep,” I said.
    Grady didn’t answer. His eyes were nearly shut against the white glare of snow flying into the windshield.
    “We should have left sooner. I’m sorry,” I said.
    Then I wished I hadn’t apologized. We didn’t start late because of me.
    He shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road. “Not your fault. I couldn’t leave the office till I’d finished the paperwork.”
    That was all we said for a long time.
    The sky got darker. The snow fell. The black road ran ahead into the whiteness. At least there was no traffic. Everybody was at a party by this time on New Year’s Eve. Only us out on the road, driving and driving.
    We were doing okay until the baby started to cry. Sometimes Grady sings to her, but not thatnight. I turned in my seat to tickle her cheek. I gave her the soother, but she kept spitting it out again.
    “Can’t you make her shut up?” Grady finally said. He didn’t shout, but he was getting tense. The stress of driving in the dark through a cloud of flying white.
    “She’s hungry,” I said. “Sorry.” Some days all I ever said was sorry . “If I’d fed her just before we left, maybe she would have slept through.”
    He laughed. “Right. She hasn’t slept more than three hours in her whole life.”
    “Seven, last Sunday!”
    He shook his head like he didn’t believe me, but he didn’t answer.
    We were only going 60. At this rate, the trip was going to take forever. I hummed to make the baby stop fussing, giving her my best good-mama smile.
    She let the soother fall damply out of her mouth and grinned back at me. Drool ran down her chin. She looked pretty cute, actually. Never thought I’d think that about a drooling baby.
    “Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do,” I sang to her. “I’m half crazy, all for the love of you...” My mom used to sing me that old song all the time.
    Daisy’s eyes were as dark blue as the night sky out the window. My back hurt, twisting around like that, but she started crying again if I turned away.
    Grady pulled off the highway at the