Page 128 of Snowed In

“I’m here for our date,” I manage with enthusiasm, holding up my phone. “Sorry, I just saw it today or I would have replied sooner. Am I…overdressed for dinner?”

“No. I… we already had dinner.”

“Oh. Did I get the time wrong? Do you not need a date?”

“I… didn’t think you were coming, so I made other plans.”

This feels like I walked in on someone cheating on me. Who cares if he doesn’t need my services after all?

“Oh. Okay. Um, this isn’t awkward. Forget I was ever here. This never happened.”

“You actually came all the way over here because you thought I needed a date?”

“I mean, it’s only like a five-minute drive and…I kind of owe you.”

Kind ofis an understatement, but hello, he’s wearing sweatpants, and I look like I’m here to impress his parents. I can’t believe I skipped my hair gel for him. It’s not like Iwanthim to play with my curls again. Fuck. I really need to start dating again.

“‘Owe me?’ You don’t owe me anything. That’s not why I…”

“Ronny! Where the hell is your bottle opener?” a larger, duplicateversion of Ronny shouts, poking his head out of a doorway behind him. “Oh, hey. Sorry, I didn’t know you had more company.”

My word. There are two of him?

“Come on in. Get out of the cold,” Ronny says, tugging at my sleeve and stepping back from the door. I would deliberate my chance for escape, but the Ronny twin is looking at me like we’re stuck in an awkward meet-and-greet waiting for Ronny’s cue.

“This is Marshall. Marshall, this is my brother.”

The Ronny duplicate shuffles forward and gives me a bro handshake. “Carmine. Everybody calls me Carm, though.”

He wasn’t joking about the Italian names, was he?

“Nice to meet you.”

“Are youthe date?” Carm asks, but before I can answer, he looks at Ronny. “I thought you said he ghosted you.”

Ghosted? I’m a ghoster? Fantastic.

“No! I…just had to take care of some things before I could head over,” I lie.

“Cool. Lucky you, bro.” He grins, giving Ronny’s shoulder a slap. “Um…bottle opener?”

“At the back of the drawer to the left of the sink,” Ronny informs him with a hint of agitation.

“Marshall, you need a beer?” Carm asks, heading toward the kitchen.

“Uh…” I feel like a pre-date is uber-necessary right now. Does Ronny even want me here? What is this?

“Carm! What the fuck? Did you go to China or the kitchen? Hey, who’s this?” another Ronny-esque man calls, heading down the hall toward us.

“Ronny’s date,” Carm yells from the kitchen.

“The one that blew him off?” the new Ronny double asks.

For fuck’s sake. My reputation is dropping by the second.

“He didn’t blow me off if he’s here, Pauly, did he?” Ronny says, rolling his eyes. “Carm, you getting him a drink or what?” Turning to me, he sets down his chips and helps me with my coat. “I’m sorry,” hemutters. “They’re…” He takes a moment to find a word, eventually settling on, “loud.”

Everything after that happens in a blur. I’m steered into the living room by Pauly’s big arm across my shoulders. The next five minutes are filled with boisterous inquiries, handshakes, and a few bro slaps to my shoulder. All the while, a football game is blaring in the background of the testosterone-filled room.

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