Before The Snow Falls | Holiday Novella

The Dancer

Ithaca, New York

2019

I finished reading the note that Nora had sent to Felix and stared at it. Several moments passed as Hale and I sat there, letting the Christmas music weave through our thoughts as they mingled with the past.

I let out a deep sigh. "Oh my god. They are infuriating," I said eventually. "They just keep dancing around the truth."

"I think it is mostly Nora that is doing that, though." Hale's head turned slowly toward mine, and I couldn't read the look in his eyes. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered the smooth voice of Michael Bublé as he began to sing.

Suddenly, a broad smile spread across Hale's handsome face, and he grabbed my hand. "Speaking of dancing," he hinted, standing and tugging me with him so I practically slammed into his chest. Then both of his arms wrapped around me, and without any pretense, we started swaying to the music.

Flashing me an artful grin, Hale began lip-syncing to Christmas, Baby Please Come Home and twirling me about my living room. Laughing, I followed his lead, enjoying the way his strong hands commanded my body.

Even though I wanted to savor the feeling and the moment, I was swept up by the expression on Hale's face as he became increasingly invested in his musical performance. Giving me an overdramatic, pleading look as he clutched his hand to his chest, Hale actually began to sing the final chorus.

It honestly just wasn't fair. Why was he so perfect? He sounded just like goddamn Michael Bublé himself.

I could tell he wanted me to sing with him, but I was laughing too hard and shook my head. So he shrugged and lifted one of my hands high above our heads. Automatically, I smiled and spun on the axel that was his fingertips. I continued to spin and spin, my wool socks slipping against the wooden floors until he grabbed me around my waist, pulling me tight against him.

A little dizzy and out of breath, I let him hold me while he sang the last notes of the song in my ear. It was loud and ridiculous, but I loved it. 

When the final chord struck, Hale pulled back, smiling at me. His glittering eyes connected with mine, and I tried to look back at him impassively. But my eyes betrayed me—or perhaps it was my heart—flicking down to his soft lips. They were only inches from my own.

Hale froze, his happy expression faltering. It was as though my look had melted his smile. And yet, he didn't let go, his arms still wrapped around me.

Reality came crashing down around me as a loud knock sounded on the door to my apartment. Hale released me abruptly, discarding my body as he went to answer the door. Stumbling a little after so many turns about the room, I threw myself back on the couch. I wanted to bury myself beneath the blanket in embarrassment, but instead, I watched as Hale stalked across the room. I hated to admit that I was feeling bare at the sudden loss of contact with him.

Moments later, Hale plopped down the box of pizza on the table in front of the sofa. He threw down some napkins and plasticware that looked like it had come with the delivery. Turning back toward the kitchen, he asked, "Do you want anything to drink?"

"Could you grab me a Diet Coke?" I called back to him, before adding, "Help yourself to the beer in there, if you want."

I saw him nod to himself before opening the refrigerator and perusing his options. Soon he was walking over to me with a Diet Coke in one hand and a craft beer in the other.

"The pizza came quickly," I said, saying the first words that came to mind.

Hale sat down and cleared his throat. "This place is only around the corner. Honestly, I felt a little ridiculous ordering delivery when we could have walked."

I flung the top off the pizza box, admiring the cheesy goodness. "There's a pizzeria around the corner? I hadn't even realized."

Hale shook his head and muttered to himself, "You're so oblivious sometimes, Lana."

I looked at him sharply. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He grabbed a piece of pizza and ignored my question. Watching as Hale dug into the food, I realized that he was snuggled into the farthest end of the couch. Was I just imagining it, or was he making sure that we weren't touching now? I brushed away my previous feelings of embarrassment for a slice of pizza topped with a sprinkling of irritation. It didn't taste good going down.

Swallowing, I said, "This isn't as delicious as Tremont House of Pizza."

Hale nodded absentmindedly, and I took that to mean that he agreed, though he didn't say anything. I scowled and decided that if he was uninterested in talking, then I wasn't going to waste my breath. But then Hale randomly asked, "Who's Mr. Rockwell?"

"Huh? Who?"

"From Nora's letter," Hale said in between bites. "She said that she's been too busy to visit Felix because she is spending time with someone named Mr. Rockwell."

I was only half-listening to what Hale was saying because my brain was too focused on the little bit of pizza sauce near the corner of his mouth, waiting for him to lick it away.

Oh my god, what was wrong with me today?

Not wanting to be caught staring at his lips again, I forced my brain fully back to what Hale was saying and forced my eyes away.

"Mr. Rockwell? Yeah, I was wondering the same thing when I read that. I can't imagine that made Felix feel very good about the whole situation."

"I would be feeling bad for him if I didn't know with almost full certainty that he ends up with Nora."

I chanced a glance at Hale, noting that the little bit of pizza sauce had vanished.

"I don't know," I replied. "I still feel pretty sorry for him at the way she is constantly keeping him at arm's length in these letters."

Hale reached over to grab another slice of pizza, decidedly not looking at me. "He gets the girl in the end," he said, shrugging. "That's what matters."

The almost wistful look in his eyes made me want to ask him what—or who—he was thinking about, but I realized that might become a bit obvious. I'd been hiding my feelings for Hale for years; I wasn't about to reveal them all today just because I was unsettled by some nineteenth-century love letters.

Instead, I just thought about it to myself. Hale hadn't been in a serious relationship since high school. He really only dated casually when we were in college, and according to what he'd said earlier, he wasn't seeing anyone now. Hale didn't usually talk to me about the girls he would date, but I knew they were there from offhand comments about going out with this girl or that when we'd talk about weekend plans.

It left me wondering...what girl did Hale want to get in the end?