Page 151 of College Town

“Then maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea if you were Tom…somebody else, going forward.”

Tommy stared at him a moment, then he blinked, and his expression smoothed, and he turned slowly to Lawson.

When Lawson understood, he gasped.

~*~

Since it’s only a week until Christmas, the ballroom is decked out in seasonal finery. There are fake trees – spruces festooned with ribbon, tinsel, glass balls, and silver icicles, and birches wrapped with fairy lights. Illuminated white deer frolic on patches of cotton batting snow, and a sleigh complete with hired Santa stands ready as a photo booth. An arrangement of poinsettias and fir branches adorns each table, and more white fairy lights are strung along the ceiling in big loops twined with diaphanous silver fabric. Big, foam snowflakes hang from fishing line at varying heights, and garlands swag the doorways and the front of the long buffet table where white-clad staff wait to serve diners from the array of chafing dishes. There’s a dance floor in the center of the room, and they’ve rigged the lights so only red, white, and green circles spin in lazy loops across the parquet.

“Did you hang those yourself?” Tommy’s wedding ring glints red as he points at the snowflakes.

“I did,” Lawson says. “And the lights, too.”

“Wow. You’re so talented.”

“I know you’re bullshitting me, but I’m gonna take it as a compliment.”

Tommy laughs, and leans into his side. “I’m not bullshitting. It looks great, babe.”

“I feel like, in the interest of honesty, I should tell you I was only the monkey on the ladder. Dana made all the design decisions.”

Tommy pats his arm. “I know that, sweetheart.”

“Ouch.”

They stop at the table up front to find their nametags amidst a sea of them. Because Dana arranged them, she played favorites: theirs are in the first row, despite the rest being in alphabetical order. One stacked above the other: Lawson Granger; Tommy Granger.

Lawson snags them both since his arms are longer, and pins Tommy’s to his lapel first.

“Don’t stick me with the pin,” Tommy says, as Lawson struggles.

“I won’t – shit, I stuck myself. Why are these things so difficult?”

“Here, let me.” Dana swoops in from out of the blue and handles both pins with brisk efficiency. She straightens Lawson’s after, and steps back, glancing between them, terribly pleased. If she’s this happy about them, what’s she going to do when Leo gets down on one knee later?

“Hi, boys.”

Tommy gives her a one-armed hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Hi. You look amazing.”

She’s in a floor-length, sequined dress that’s silver at the straps and which plunges to deepest black where the hem pools around the toes of her spike-heeled shoes. She looks like an old Hollywood starlet.

“You guys, too. Did you dress him?” she asks Tommy, hooking a thumb Lawson’s direction.

“Hey.”

“Obviously.”

“Hey.”

Dana turns to pluck something off his shoulder. “Don’t ruin this jacket. It’s doing amazing things for your shoulders.”

“I know, right?” Tommy says.

“Dana!” someone calls across the room.

“Okay, I gotta run. You” – she points at Lawson – “look alive. Try to be co-hosty.”

He gives her a salute. “I’ll do my best.”

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