recovering. She was driving.”
Holly heard Pearl call out from some space beyond Thuy and her cell phone, “Tell her it’s one for the books.”
“Seriously?” Holly said to Thuy, not ready to fully believe this account of things. “I mean, where did this come from? I thought it wasn’t supposed to snow today.”
“Well, they started the dire warnings about six o’clock this morning, but it was still barely snowing when we left for church at eleven, and we thought, yeah, right, I mean, how much snow can fall during the span of an hour and a half? Well, let me tell you. A lot. And a lot more is on the way. You better turn on your radio.”
“Oh, God.” Holly suddenly understood what the implications of this were. She put a hand to her forehead and said, “Thuy, you’re not calling to say you’re not coming , are you?”
There was a silence, and into it Holly made whiny-puppy noises.
“Holly, there’s no—”
“Oh my God, you’re going to abandon me on Christmas Day! Rent a sleigh! I’ll come get you! I need my Thuy and my Pearl and my sugarplum fairy.”
Thuy laughed a little, but not much. They both knew it was only partly a joke, that not coming over for Christmas Day broke a tradition that mattered more to Holly than it did to them. Holly was trying, with the melodrama, to sound less desperate than she felt.
“Holly, there’s no way. Even if it stops snowing right this second, which it’s not going to do, the roads won’t be clear enough to—”
“I heard a plow!” Holly said. “Just, maybe, thirty minutes ago. I bet our road is clear!”
“Hon, that plow is a finger in the dike. No pun intended. And, besides, I couldn’t get Pearl off the floor and back into the car today if our lives depended on it.”
Holly heard Pearl call out, “Tell Holly we’re so sorry! We’ll bring over our presents and our sugarplum fairy tomorrow or the next!”
Pearl, Holly knew, was trying to get Thuy off the hook, and off the phone. She knew that they would have liked to come for Christmas, but it wouldn’t ruin their day now that they couldn’t. They were probably planning to make a fire in their woodstove, cuddle up on the couch with Patty. They’d probably stocked the fridge and freezer with things they could make a Christmas dinner with, in the event that this would happen. It might even have seemed like a relief to them, staying home, just the three of them, instead of being here, dealing with Holly’s in-laws and the Coxes. But Holly couldn’t stop herself. She said, “You’re sure? This will be the first Christmas in fourteen years you haven’t been over here. Tatiana will be heartbroken. She’s already in a terrible mood.”
“Oh, Holly,” Thuy said, and Holly could imagine her making a face at Pearl, maybe pointing at the phone receiver, shaking her head. “It’s impossible. Really. Or we’d be there, hon. It’s truly not possible.” She enunciated and emphasized each of her last three words, as if Holly, not Thuy, were the nonnative English speaker.
“Bleh,” Holly said. “I hate you. I love you. You’re ruining my life.”
Thuy laughed then, recognizing the humor as permission to get off the phone and get on with her own life, with her own family, with her own Christmas. “Well, tell Tatiana we love her,” she said.
“I will,” Holly said, “if she comes out of her bedroom today.” She wanted to tell Thuy about Tatiana. Her bad mood. She’d locked Holly out of her room! Although Thuy had been a mother half as long as Holly had, Thuy always had the best mothering advice.
“Oh, no,” Thuy said. “What’s wrong with Tatty?” But the tone didn’t invite Holly to go into detail. The conversation was winding down, not up. Holly had known Thuy for two decades and logged hundreds of hours on the telephone with her. She knew when Thuy was standing at the counter, ready to walk out the door, and, conversely, when she was settling into her lounge chair, ready to
Holly heard Pearl call out from some space beyond Thuy and her cell phone, “Tell her it’s one for the books.”
“Seriously?” Holly said to Thuy, not ready to fully believe this account of things. “I mean, where did this come from? I thought it wasn’t supposed to snow today.”
“Well, they started the dire warnings about six o’clock this morning, but it was still barely snowing when we left for church at eleven, and we thought, yeah, right, I mean, how much snow can fall during the span of an hour and a half? Well, let me tell you. A lot. And a lot more is on the way. You better turn on your radio.”
“Oh, God.” Holly suddenly understood what the implications of this were. She put a hand to her forehead and said, “Thuy, you’re not calling to say you’re not coming , are you?”
There was a silence, and into it Holly made whiny-puppy noises.
“Holly, there’s no—”
“Oh my God, you’re going to abandon me on Christmas Day! Rent a sleigh! I’ll come get you! I need my Thuy and my Pearl and my sugarplum fairy.”
Thuy laughed a little, but not much. They both knew it was only partly a joke, that not coming over for Christmas Day broke a tradition that mattered more to Holly than it did to them. Holly was trying, with the melodrama, to sound less desperate than she felt.
“Holly, there’s no way. Even if it stops snowing right this second, which it’s not going to do, the roads won’t be clear enough to—”
“I heard a plow!” Holly said. “Just, maybe, thirty minutes ago. I bet our road is clear!”
“Hon, that plow is a finger in the dike. No pun intended. And, besides, I couldn’t get Pearl off the floor and back into the car today if our lives depended on it.”
Holly heard Pearl call out, “Tell Holly we’re so sorry! We’ll bring over our presents and our sugarplum fairy tomorrow or the next!”
Pearl, Holly knew, was trying to get Thuy off the hook, and off the phone. She knew that they would have liked to come for Christmas, but it wouldn’t ruin their day now that they couldn’t. They were probably planning to make a fire in their woodstove, cuddle up on the couch with Patty. They’d probably stocked the fridge and freezer with things they could make a Christmas dinner with, in the event that this would happen. It might even have seemed like a relief to them, staying home, just the three of them, instead of being here, dealing with Holly’s in-laws and the Coxes. But Holly couldn’t stop herself. She said, “You’re sure? This will be the first Christmas in fourteen years you haven’t been over here. Tatiana will be heartbroken. She’s already in a terrible mood.”
“Oh, Holly,” Thuy said, and Holly could imagine her making a face at Pearl, maybe pointing at the phone receiver, shaking her head. “It’s impossible. Really. Or we’d be there, hon. It’s truly not possible.” She enunciated and emphasized each of her last three words, as if Holly, not Thuy, were the nonnative English speaker.
“Bleh,” Holly said. “I hate you. I love you. You’re ruining my life.”
Thuy laughed then, recognizing the humor as permission to get off the phone and get on with her own life, with her own family, with her own Christmas. “Well, tell Tatiana we love her,” she said.
“I will,” Holly said, “if she comes out of her bedroom today.” She wanted to tell Thuy about Tatiana. Her bad mood. She’d locked Holly out of her room! Although Thuy had been a mother half as long as Holly had, Thuy always had the best mothering advice.
“Oh, no,” Thuy said. “What’s wrong with Tatty?” But the tone didn’t invite Holly to go into detail. The conversation was winding down, not up. Holly had known Thuy for two decades and logged hundreds of hours on the telephone with her. She knew when Thuy was standing at the counter, ready to walk out the door, and, conversely, when she was settling into her lounge chair, ready to
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