ALICE
On New Year’s Eve, a few hours before the clock will tick over to 1989, I race from the warmth of a cab to the promise of warmth inside a cozily lit old Victorian in Somerville. On my heels are my best friend Kate, her best guy friend Steve, and Kate’s boyfriend’s ex-roommate Pam. It’s Pam’s house, so I step aside to let her open the front door, but I’m first inside. “I can’t believe you guys talked me into traipsing around downtown in the cold for hours!” I whine, stamping the snow off my boots.
“Come on, those ice sculptures were the bomb,” Pam says as she picks up her dog. “Hush, Rufus.”
Kate, coat still on, hugs herself as she jumps up and down. “Can we build a fire?”
“When should Will and Deb be back?” I ask, rubbing my arms. “Or, more to the point, when can we start drinking?”
Kate’s boyfriend, Will, is performing in a holiday show tonight. Pam’s girlfriend, Deb, is on the same production as costumer... which was the argument behind going downtown to check out Boston’s famous First Night celebration. If we’d stayed in, we’d have been tempted to start partying early and we’d be wasted by the time the others got home. I’ll never admit it, but it was pretty cool seeing downtown all lit up and full of people. The bands were great and we saw some choice art exhibits. But it’s twenty-five degrees outside, and I’m a southern girl—born in South Korea, raised in the American South.
Pam checks the clock over the mantel. “They’ll be home from the show in an hour or so. But I say we need to warm up—inside and out.” She points at Steve and me. “You two, make the fire. Kate, you help me get the drinks since you know where every‐ thing is.”
Steve moves the screen away from the hearth. “Works for me.” He nods at the pile of newspapers nearby. “Can you ball those up and stick them under the grate?”
I salute him. “Yes, sir.”
We get the fire laid quickly, but every time he tries to light the kindling, the match blows out. “I can’t believe this. This has never happened to me before.” He shakes a finger at me. “Don’t tell anyone. ‘It would devastate my reputation as a dude.’”
“Sixteen Candles. Good quote,” I manage through chattering teeth. When he finally gets it lit, I stand as close as possible to the flames. “Is it just me, or do they keep the heat really low in this house?”
“It is a little drafty,” he says, putting an arm around my shoulder.
“Man, you’re like a furnace.” I’ve never actually been this close to Steve. Funnily enough, I’ve never spent a whole lot of time with him. Katie and I were college roommates. Kate met Steve at her first job after college. Even though we’re all in Boston, we live in different neighborhoods and work in different fields. Plus, while Kate’s close to him now, she complained an awful lot about him when she started traveling with him, said he was just another self-centered, self-involved, self-aggrandizing sales guy. She never really explained what made her change her mind about the man that the women at the firm dubbed “Hot Steve.”
I’m pretty sure the moniker refers to his preppy good looks, but from where I’m sitting, he’s literally toasty. The longer I’m up close and personal with him though, the more my shivers shift from full body to one particular location. Not sure if that’s a good idea or not. I mean, I’m always up for a sexual adventure. But maybe not with my best friend’s best friend.
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