Let It Snow Part 2

"Of course. h.e.l.lo, Michael."

"Amy," Michael says and nods, playing the part of someone that's happy to see someone else. And he does recognize her. Amy works somewhere in the student center. He's often seen her in Eric's office talking with Holly. He's never really spoken to her, other than a polite nod of recognition from time to time, and he's embarra.s.sed that he'd never learned her name until now.

"Wendy, this is Michael," Annie says, "Michael teaches world religions at the university."

Wendy walks toward him, her hand outstretched. "Nice to meet you, Michael."

"And you," Michael says, clutching her oddly firm hand. He hears his voice rattle in his head like an echo, and he's worried that it's entered some strange, formal mode. He often unconsciously enters this modea"speaking in a tone absent of personalitya"when he meets someone new.

"World religions, huh? That sounds interesting. Any religion you teach specifically?" Wendy asks.

"Mostly, I teach Judaism, along with a cla.s.s on the Old Testament," he says, and it occurs to him that Wendy is one of those people who attempts to minimize the awkward silences after an introduction through curious inquiry, and she seems good at it. She's picked a professional question, the kind of questiona"lightly personala"that will often put a person at ease. Unless, of course, a person is uneasy about their profession. It just so happens that Michael's profession is one of the few things about himself that doesn't make him uneasy.

"Would you like me to take your coats?" Annie asks, motioning toward Amy and Wendy with outstretched hands. They hand her their coats, and then Annie turns toward Michael. "I forgot to grab your coat earlier, would you mind?"

"No, please," Michael says, taking off his coat, which he hadn't even realized he was still wearing. No wonder he was so warm and sweaty.

Annie takes the coats and leaves the room.

"So, did you hear about the storm?" Wendy asks.

"I heard that it was supposed to pa.s.s us to the north," Eric says.

"I hope so," Amy says. "They said it could bring eight more inches."

"Holly's here," Annie says from the hallway.

Michael take an abrupt step toward the hall, but stops himself. Wendy looks over at him curiously. He takes a step back, and tries to calm himself, feeling the fool.

"And who's this?" Michael hears Annie ask, hardly able to contain the surprise in her voice.

Michael swears he hears a male voice, and he thinks for a second thata No. He must be mistaken. It can't possibly be what he thinks. Holly couldn't have brought a date. This was supposed to be his big chance with her. This was going to be their night.

A wave of panic flashes over him, and he's afraid it's a look he's not good at hiding. He looks over at Eric, who was already looking at Michael, but then looked away as quickly as Michael caught him looking. It was a pitying look on Eric's face.

Then it is true. She's brought a date, and Michael is utterly humiliated.

He tries to take a deep breath and rea.s.sess the situation. Not everyone here knows that she was coming here to meet him. Eric knows. Annie knows. He thought Holly knew, but there must've been some kind of miscommunication. Something must've gotten lost in translation. Holly's never struck him as someone who would be so unashamedly cruel.

Michael eases back from the small group in the living room, and finds himself sinking into a chair near the window. He feels as though the whole room in sinking toward him, like he is the point on a cone of gravity that pulls everything into him.

By now, Amy and Wendy are milling around the edges of the room, talking to one another about Eric and Annie's decor: the Christmas tree, books, paintings, private photos. And, yet, Michael worries that their mannerisms betray them, and that they, too, can sense the tension brought on by his humiliation. Then it occurs to Michael that he is not the gravity in the room. He is the anti-gravity, pushing everyone away. Even Eric is avoiding looking at him, keeping his eyes on the living room's entry way, waiting for Annie and Holly and Holly's date.

Michael turns to look out the window again, trying to get a new perspective on things. His heart is beating hard in his chest. He can feel his pulse bouncing in his throat. The prospects for the rest of the evening have taken such a whiplash-turn for the worse that he's already mapping out possible plans of escape.

If Annie hadn't just taken his coat, he could just sneak away and exit through the back door. He could easily explain everything to Eric later.

But who needs a coat? He'll just leave. He'll say he needs to go to the bathroom, and then he'll let himself out and drive home.

But Amy and Wendy are parked behind him in the driveway.

He's trapped.

His heart beats faster. He's taking slow, deliberate breaths now, internally repeating the 'in' with each inhale, and 'out' with every exhale. He starts counting the Christmas lights from their reflection in the windowa" anything to move his mind away. He tries to fit his face with its most natural expression, though it's difficult when he's become so hyper-aware of his face.

"Holly, I think you know everyone," Annie says as they enter the living room.

Holly gives a small wave of acknowledgement to everyone, and her eyes quickly pa.s.s over Michael. She surrenders the smallest smile as her glance pa.s.ses by him, and he can't ignore the thrill he feels just in seeing her. He's been looking forward to this dinner since it was arranged a couple weeks ago. And, since they've been on holiday break, it's been several weeks since he last saw her. So, it's not as if he's been able to sneak into Eric's office to steal a minute with her, as he's grown accustomed to doing most days.

Suddenly, though, he worries that he was wrong about her. That smile of hers was its own admission of guilt. It was a tiny apology. She's either deliberately avoiding the situation with him, or she really is just a callous person.

But she is beautiful.

As Annie takes her coat, Michael can't keep his eyes off her. His panic, his humiliation, disappears when he watches her shoulders rise and dip from her coat. Her red, floral pattern dress hangs near the outside of her shoulders, exposing a good deal of skin. It's a strange dress for her to wear in the winter, but he appreciates her bare arms, and those thin, elegant wrists of hers. The skirt of her dress falls just above her knees, and, since Michael has rarely seen her when she's not behind a desk, he can't help but sneak a look at her long legs.

She is a tall, breathtaking woman, and he knows he could love her. Maybe, he already does.

But she's not his tonight.

"And this is Tim, a friend of Holly's," Annie says as a young man enters the rooma"a young, handsome man.

And, just like that, Michael's panic returns.

Annie whispers something to Eric. She looks briefly at Michael as she whispers, and he a.s.sumes that, whatever she's saying, it has something to do with him. It's clear that her and Eric are thrown by the fact that Holly has brought an unexpected guest, and that Michael's shame is exposed. Annie, even, looks almost as fl.u.s.tered as he feels.

Then Annie takes Holly by the arm.

"We're going to the kitchen to start getting things ready," Annie says as they leave the room.

"I'll come with you," Amy says, leaving Wendy behind thumbing through Eri's vast record collection. Wendy nervously watches them leave, and suddenly she looks as awkward as everyone else who's been left behind. You get the since that she would've liked to have left the room with Amy, but waited too long to act, and now she's stuck in a suddenly very quiet living room with three men she barely knows.

"What were you thinking?" Annie asks Holly as they move to the kitchen.

"About what?"

"Bringing someone."

"I didn't want to come by myself."

"You wouldn't have been by yourself. We're here."

"You know what I mean."

"No, I know that you've embarra.s.sed me and Eric, and G.o.d knows how Michael feels. He looks absolutely mortified."

"Why should he be mortified?"

"Seriously?"

"What?"

"You were supposed to be coming here to be with him tonight. That was the whole reason we were having this party, to get you two together."

"You're kidding?"

"No," Annie says, shaking her head, "I'm not kidding."

"I had no idea."

"Yes you did."

"I did not."

"So, you're saying," Annie says, pouring wine into three gla.s.ses, "that you had no idea that tonight was a setup."

"My hand to G.o.d."

"You don't believe in G.o.d."

"It's an expression," Holly says, grabbing a gla.s.s of wine from Annie. "Besides, I can a.s.sure you that if I did know, I would've never agreed to come."

"But you did know that he was going to be here?"

"I did, buta""

"And you know how he feels about you?"

"I know that he's interested, yes."

"Interested? More like obsessed."

"You talking about Michael?" Amy asks, grabbing a gla.s.s of wine.

"Yes, Michael," Holly says.

"He's cute," Amy says.

"Right?" Annie says, looking at Holly.

"I guess," Holly says.

"He is," Annie says. "You know he is. You're just being contrarian."

"So, he thought tonight was a date?" Holly asks.

"Yes. We all did."

"No, not all of us."

"G.o.d, that is embarra.s.sing," Amy says.

"Well, it's not my fault. I blame Eric."

"Eric? How is it Eric's fault?" Annie asks.

"He wasn't clear. He never said anything about coming here to set me up with Michael."

"What did he say?"

"Just thata He told me that you guys were having a party, and he asked if I would come, and then, almost as an afterthought, he told me that Michael was coming, and that Michael was looking forward to seeing me."

"That sounds like something to me," Annie says.

"What something? No, that sounds like nothing."

"Amy, does that sound like something to you?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I'd probably think that he meant something just by mentioning that Michael was going to be here, particularly if I knew that Michael was interested in me."

"Any perceptive person would have seen that he meant something," Annie says.

"Okay, so I'm not perceptive. But there's nothing I can do about now," Holly says, and takes a large gulp of wine. "But, now, I feel bad. I hope you're happy, Annie."

"No, you're right. We can't do anything about it now."

"So, Tim. What's up with him?" Amy asks.

"Nothing's up with him. He's just my beard."

"Your beard?" Amy asks.

"Yeah, I brought him because I knew Michael was going to be here, and I was hoping to avoid any flirty awkwardness."

"Come on, you like it when he flirts," Annie says. "I've seen you with him. You like the attention."

"I do not."

"You do."

Holly looks at Annie with a serious look on her face, but then she smiles. She clearly does like Michael's flirting.

"Does your beard know he's a beard?" Amy asks.

"Yeah, he knows. He's an old friend of John's," Holly says, and then there is a long silence that descends. Annie is looking down into the mashed potatoes.

Amy is looking out into the empty dining room.

"Guys, I think we can get beyond the awkward silences whenever John is mentioned," Holly says. "Isn't it time?"