Snowstorm in Vermont

ALYSSA

My head was pounding a little bit, and I was relieved to feel the bass from the music starting to dwindle. They were lowering the music and a few lights at the back of the bar turned off.

Several couples and small groups were also grabbing their things and beginning to leave.

How had it gotten so late?

“Last call!” bellowed the bartender.

A few people sitting at the bar raised their hands as a few more people rushed over to order one last cocktail.

“So, you’re not taking her home then?” Matthew asked again, confirming.

His question the second time was just as mortifying as the first time he’d asked it.

“No,” Zach said, looking at me. He grabbed my hand and added, “Perhaps another night.”

I bit my lip and stared into his sea-foam eyes, grasping his hand.

“Where’s the after-party!” yelled another man in their group obnoxiously. He clearly was the most intoxicated in the group and chugged the rest of his beer, holding the empty bottle in the air victoriously.

“I’m taking Alyssa home. Unless she wants to have one last drink first?” Matthew announced, his face back to his normal serious one.

“No, I am going to head home now. By myself,” I reiterated.

Matthew moved quickly, unclasping my car keys from my bag and yanking my coat off from my chair. He grabbed my laptop bag too.

“C’mon,” he said, melting into the group of bar-goers, parting a way for us.

I looked at Zach one last time, his mouth contoured into a frown as he stared at a TV. I did not say anything to him or the others; I just turned around to follow Matthew out.

The hall by the doorway was incredibly crowded. He grabbed my hand and brought me closer to him, my arm linking around his and pressing against his body.

As soon as we mingled through the cluster of people, he tossed my coat over my shoulders, holding onto my laptop and bag without saying anything while I slipped my arms through the sleeves.

“I really can drive myself. You should stay with your friends,” I said, zipping myself up.

“Do you still live in Maplewood?” he asked nonchalantly, intentionally ignoring my comment.

“Yeah,” I said, surprised he remembered after the past several years.

“Then you are not driving. You smell like rum and the snow is nearly a foot deep,” he said as he opened the heavy door.

A gust of wind whipped my hair in front of my face as snowflakes raced inside.

“Stay here, I’m gonna pull my truck up.” His warm hand released mine, leaving a tingle on my skin from the shock of the bitter cold.

The door slammed, and I stood off to the side as more and more people filed out. I cupped my hand over my mouth and smelled my breath. He was right. I did smell like alcohol. I shouldn’t drive.

I did not want to listen to him, but I also did not want to total my SUV tonight. Glancing at the floor-length mirror on the wall, I noted my hair and makeup still looked nice.

I ran my hands over my pine-colored dress, trying to release some of the soft wrinkles that had settled on my legs.

I was confident I looked good. I glowered at my heeled ankle boots, however. They made my legs look great but would be terrible for walking in the snow.

Matthew came out the bar’s front door once more, reaching out to me. I grabbed his hand and squished through the people. Outside, there was a lineup of trucks and vans. It appeared several people had called to be picked up.

I glanced over to my vehicle, seeing that the tires had nearly disappeared, covered by mounds of snow. The ground was horribly slippery, but Matthew led me to the passenger side of his large burgundy truck.

He helped me inside and closed the door, snowflakes flinging in as it shut. I buckled myself as Matthew jumped behind the wheel and started the heat until it was roaring.

He reached behind my seat and pulled out his jacket, which he tossed over my lap. My naked knees were thankful for his gesture. I really hadn’t dressed appropriately for the weather.

The truck hummed forward, slinging wet snow underneath us. The radio played softly, and the steady sound of the tires trudging through the snow thrummed on. Matthew stayed quiet, and so did I.

Cars were pulled over to the shoulder, and almost every vehicle had its emergency lights flashing in the darkness of the harsh night. My hands stayed tethered to each other in my lap, taking in the craziness of the surprise storm while enjoying my little buzz.

I was curious to see how far Matthew would get before asking me for guidance on how to get me home. How could he even know where my house was? He merged onto the highway that had an entourage of plow trucks whirling by.

We went a few miles until my exit came up, but it was blocked by cones and a hazard sign. I noticed him stare down the exit as we coursed along the highway until we reached a roadblock.

Red and blue lights sparkled across the four-lane highway, and someone was directing traffic to use the U-turn. I glanced at Matthew to see his brow furrowed and his lips pulled taut at the corners.

“Can you plug your address into your GPS, please?” he asked.

I pulled my phone out of my bag and did as he’d requested.

“It’s saying two hours and thirteen minutes,” I said, immediately feeling my throat clog. There had to be intense road closures and accidents for the trip to take that long.

“Just drop me back off at my car and I can figure things out,” I told him.

“No, my house is ten minutes from here. You’ll just have to wait until morning when the roads are cleared to get home,” he said. “Tonight, you’ll stay with me.”

EPISODE 4: Traffic

ALYSSA

The first exit we took after taking the U-turn was backed up, taillights all glowing in a straight line. The windshield wipers were working overtime as the snow did not let up even for a second.

My mind wandered to my kiddos, finding solace knowing that they were both tucked in comfortably and probably fast asleep by now.

“How’s Levi?” Matthew asked, seemingly reading my mind.

“He’s fine. The kids are at his house tonight,” I replied, a big sigh following.

“Kids? You had another one?” he said, ignoring the fact that I’d divulged Levi and I had separate homes.

“Yeah, a baby girl. She’ll be three soon. Hannah.” I smiled at the thought of my daughter.

“Congratulations. Time is flying,” he said. “How is Mikey? He must be about five now, no?”

“Yes, exactly. He’s great. Started kindergarten this September,” I replied, trying to hide the fact I was excited he remembered so much. “How are your little ones?”

“They’re good too! David is doing basketball, and Lilah is in ballet right now, both enjoying school,” he said.

His voice had a sense of pride and happiness I wasn’t used to hearing from him. He tapped his thumbs along to the rhythm of the song playing.

“Amy has them at her place tonight,” he concluded, his voice flattening.

Amy had been his on and off-again girlfriend. They had the two kids together when they were pretty young, but Matthew had never proposed or married her, at least not when he and I had worked together.

Even if he had, it was now apparent that it hadn’t worked out.

“So, what have you been up to the last four years?” I asked, trying to maneuver around his last comment.

“I transferred from Gatemind shortly after you left. I was hired as the projects director for Hummel’s,” he began, but I cut him off.

“The competition!” I shouted, clicking my tongue and wiggling my pointer finger in his direction.

Matthew let out a surprisingly hearty laugh.

“Yes, the enemy,” he said playfully. “But honestly, they pay so much better.”

I laughed. “That’s great. I’m happy you are doing well!”

“Where are you at now? I don’t think we ever talked about where you were going to when you left,” he prodded.

“Actually, I work independently now,” I said, my voice reaching a higher octave.

Was I happy to be having a conversation with him, or was I more drunk than I’d initially thought?

“Ah, you are your own boss. No surprise there,” he exclaimed. I sensed he looked over my way as the truck was fully stopped in the line of traffic, but I refused to look back at him. “You work from home then?”

“Yeah, Levi had built me a home office right around the time I put my resignation in to you,” I said slyly.

“That’s good. Good for you,” he responded.

Silence fell once more in the truck, and I felt upset, wanting to delve deeper into conversation with the man I knew I shared close to nothing with.

My phone began to ring in my hands and we both looked down out of reflex. Levi’s name popped up on the screen, and I knew Matthew saw.

I let it ring a few times before deciding to answer. I cleared my throat. “Hello?”

“Hey, Lys. You haven’t answered my texts. Are you doing okay with the storm?” Levi asked, his voice thick with worry.

“Yeah, I’m doing all right,” I answered.

“Are you in a car right now?”

Matthew turned down the heater and lowered the music, but the blinking of his hazards were still methodically clicking.

“Yes,” I said coolly.

“The kids are asleep. My mom is also staying over. I can come get you. Where are you?”

“I’m fine, no worries,” I giggled, laughing at the thought of telling him the truth.

“You’re out. Have you been drinking?”

“Levi, this does not pertain to the children at all, so I would prefer not to talk about this. I am fine and do not need anything. Thank you, though,” I concluded.

Silence echoed on the other side for a moment. I felt guilty being curt with him, especially since he was so nice to check in, but I knew I never wanted to rely on him for anything for myself ever again.

“If you change your mind, please call me. I’ll leave my phone on high volume,” he almost whispered. “I love you.”

A hot tear pricked my eye, and I pressed the red end button as fast as possible. What I wouldn’t give to be bundled at home with my kids during the worst storm in the past decade, listening to the snowplows scrape down our road.

Matthew turned the heat back to medium and put the radio up louder than it had been before. The traffic slowly started creeping forward.

“Have you checked in on your little ones yet?” I asked, scraping the bottom of the barrel for conversation.

“Yeah, I did that before I left for the bar,” he stated. “I haven’t told Amy I loved her in several years though.”

He chuckled. I wasn’t sure if he was poking fun at me, or if he was finding humor in his own issues.

“I’m assuming your split was recent?” he asked when I didn’t respond to his comment.

“Two years,” I said, feeling an emptiness in my chest that I thought I had filled. “I haven’t told Levi I’ve loved him in two years,” I nearly whispered.