Let It Snow

by Paul Hina

her shoulder, and when she turned and everyone at the table softly clapped, she saw him looking, felt the soft touch of those eyes, and an old loveliness passed between them.

  The music had opened a door between them, and she didn't know if it could be closed again. Or even if she wanted it to be closed.

  "That was great, Annie," Eric says. "I don't remember ever hearing you play that before."

  "I'm full of surprises," she says.

  "I'll bet you are," Max says, but only loud enough for Annie to understand.

  "What was that?" Eric asks.

  "I said it was very nice," Max says.

  "Yes. Very good, Annie," Amy says.

  "Very impressive," Tim says.

  "Thank you," Annie says, shyly smiling. "Now, anybody want some coffee?" she asks, standing up from the piano, trying to turn the attention away from herself. But as she bends to push the bench under the piano, she catches a glimpse of pure whiteness in the space between the curtain and the dining room window.

  Snow.

  III. Storms

  "Eric, didn't you say the storm was going to miss us?" Annie asks, moving to the window.

  "Yeah, it was supposed to miss us to the north. Why?" He asks, standing from the table.

  "It didn't," Annie says, pulling the cord to open the curtains over the dining room's picture window.

  "Wow," Tim says.

  "Oh my," Amy says.

  "Well, that's definitely the storm they've been talking about," Wendy says.

  The snow is coming down so hard that visibility outside is low to nonexistent. It's hard for Annie to see the street across their front yard, which is only about thirty feet away. The snow flakes are clinging together in large drops and are ever flowing. Great clumps of the stuff fall like a lace curtain over the street lamp by their driveway. It couldn't have been snowing any longer than an hour, but the cars in the driveway are already covered.

  "Who said it was going to miss us?" Michael asks.

  "Every weather report I saw said it would miss, and I checked the radar at Mom and Dad's just a couple hours ago. The front was supposed to pass right by us to the northeast."

  "That's what I heard too," said Wendy.

  "It's supposed to be a bad storm too," Tim says. "I heard over six inches, and it's going to go well into the night. So, it won't be stopping any time soon."

  Amy looks at Wendy. Wendy nods.

  "Annie, we hate to eat and run, but that looks bad," Amy says.

  "No, I understand," Annie says, but doesn't move. She's still staring out into the snow.

  "Your coats are in the bedroom," Eric says. Let me…"

  "I'll get them," Annie says, and turns around, but Max is standing right behind her. She almost bumped into him.

  "No, it's alright," Eric says. "I'll go."

  "I wonder if this means my flight will be cancelled," Max says, hardly acknowledging he and Annie's sudden closeness.

  "When's your flight?" Annie asks, turning again toward the window, trying to get her bearings.

  "Tomorrow morning."

  "Probably depends on when it stops."

  "I'm going to have to get back too," Tim says, standing up from the table.

  Holly stands.

  Michael stands with her.

  "I'll get our coats," Holly says.

  "You're leaving?" Michael asks. "But…"

  "Michael, look at it out there. You think it's going to get better?" Holly asks and turns and leaves the dining room without waiting for Michael to say anything.

  Tim looks at Michael, sees the despair written on his face.

  "Holly," Tim says, calling after her, and moves to the hall.

  Holly stops at the end of the hallway, and turns toward Tim.

  "You don't have to come with me. You could stay."

  "Don't be silly, Tim. How would I get home?"

  "Well, Michael seems to want—"

  "No, we should get back into town as soon as possible," she says, and turns toward Eric and Annie's bedroom, running into Eric as she gets to the door.

  "Oh, you need your coats too?" Eric asks.

  "Yeah, if you don't mind."

  "Let me just…," Eric says, and grabs their coats off the bed. "You know, Holly, you're welcome to stay. The guest room—"

  "No, I need to get home," she says and grabs her coat from Eric. She moves down the hall toward Tim. Eric follows behind her, and passes out everyone's coat.

  "Michael, did you want your coat?" Eric asks.

  "No, not yet," Michael says. He's standing in the doorway of the kitchen, staring at Holly, who is desperately trying not to acknowledge him. She's afraid that if she looks at him, sees the want in his eyes, she'll stay. And, if she stays, she knows there will be no turning back, and she's not entirely sure she's ready to not turn back.

  "You're parked behind us," Wendy says to Tim. Her and Amy are waiting by the front door.

  "Oh, right. Sorry," Tim says, and starts to move toward the front door. He looks back at Holly, but she freezes for a second, staring off into the living room, out the bay window, out into the swirl of snow.

  Michael moves toward her, touches her arm, and guides her into the living room.

  "Don't go," Michael says. "Stay with me."

  "No. I have to go."

  "No, you don't."

  "Michael, please."

  "I don't want to be without you tonight."

  "How would I get home?"

  "I'll take you."

  "But it's bad out, and—"

  "I'll take you home."

  "No, I don't want you to come home with me."

  "I never said anything about that."

  "I know, but I'm afraid… I'll…," she trails off.

  "But I thought something happened tonight. I thought we—"

  "Yes… Maybe. But I still think I should go home tonight."

  "Okay," he says, and backs away.

  "I'm sorry, Michael," she says and moves out of the living room toward Tim. Tim opens the door and they move out into the snow. Amy and Wendy follow them out.

  Michael moves over to the bay window, tries to watch her leave, but the visibility is poor, and he can barely distinguish the shapes of each body. Eric moves into the living room, and stands beside Michael, and they watch as the car lights brighten to life. The red brake lights of each car illuminate and start to ease out of the driveway, and slowly disappear down the road.

  In the dining room, Annie is still standing at the picture window, in the same spot she was standing when she first saw the snow. Max is still standing behind her. He's close, and she's afraid to turn around again, afraid to face him. But each second she's suspended in front of him is fraught with increasing depth. She can feel it in her chest, her heart galloping at an ever-increasing pace.

  "Should I go?" Max asks.

  "Do you think you should go?"

  "I'm not worried about the snow. I'm just down the road after all. I guess what I'm really asking is, do you want me to go?"

  "No, of course not. Not if you want to stay."

  "So, you want me to stay?"

  "I didn't say that."

  "But has my being here made you uncomfortable?"

  "I can't say it wasn't a surprise," she says, catching his eyes through the reflection in the window.

  "I almost didn't come."

  "Why?"

  "I didn't think it would be a good idea."

  "And?"

  "I'm glad I did," he says, talking to her reflection. "And you?"

  "What about me?"

  "Are you glad I came?"

  "Ask me later."

  "So, you do want me to stay."

  She turns around, looks at him. Her heart stops for a second, and then it just hums.

  "Yes. I want you to stay."

  The phone rings.

  "I'll get it," Eric calls from the living room. He looks at the screen of the phone to see who's calling.

  "Who is it?" Annie asks, standing at the doorway of t
he living room now.

  Eric shrugs his shoulders.

  "Hello?" he says, and then a look of recognition flashes across his face. "But you're both okay?" he asks, and then listens. "Well, how far did you get before…?"

  "Who is it?" Annie asks again.

  Eric mouths something to her, but she can't decipher it.

  "Okay, I'm on my way," he says, and hangs up the phone.

  "What was that about?" Annie asks.

  "That was Tim. They didn't even make it to the stop sign before the car slid off the road, and now they’re stuck."

  "What do you mean they're stuck?" Annie asks.

  "Just off the side of the road, and he can't get the car out of the snow."

  "They're alright though?" Annie asks.

  "What do you mean by off the road?" Michael asks.

  "Guys, it's nothing. He said they're fine. The car's fine. They probably just need a push."

  "Maybe they should just come back and spend the night," Annie says. "Just leave the car until the morning."

  "Well, let me get out there first. If it's not that bad, and I can get them back on the road, they'll be on more well travelled roads into the city," Eric says, as he moves out of the room and down the hall. He goes to the bedroom closet to grab his coat, and moves to the front door where Annie is standing, waiting for him.

  "Do you need any help?" Max asks, standing just inside the dining room.

  "I'll call if I do," Eric says, putting his coat on.

  "I'm coming with you," Michael says, and moves down the hall to get his coat.

  "That's not necessary," Eric calls after him.

  "I'm coming," Michael says from the bedroom. He grabs his coat, throws it on, moves back toward Eric at the front door.

  "Be careful," Annie says. "And tell them not to risk it if the roads are too terrible. Remind them that there's room here."

  "I will," Eric says, and opens the door.

  Michael follows him out into the snow.

  "How did it get so deep so quickly?" Michael asks, shutting the door behind them. "There wasn't even a flurry when I got here."

  "Yeah, well, remember there was still a covering from last week's storm."

  Michael stops.

  Eric stops and