Where I'm Calling From

time and then carried a drink over to a little table near the door.
    When Paula came in she said, “Merry Christmas,” and he got up and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He held a chair for her.
    He said, “Scotch?”
    “Scotch,” she said, then “Scotch over ice” to the girl who came for her order.
    Paula picked up his drink and drained the glass.
    “I’ll have another one, too,” Myers said to the girl. “I don’t like this place,” he said after the girl had moved away.
    “What’s wrong with this place?” Paula said. “We always come here,”
    “I just don’t like it,” he said. “Let’s have a drink and then go someplace else.”
    “Whatever you want,” she said.
    The girl arrived with the drinks. Myers paid her, and he and Paula touched glasses.
    Myers stared at her.
    “Dick says hello,” she said.
    Myers nodded.
    Paula sipped her drink. “How was your day today?”
    Myers shrugged.
    “What’d you do?” she said.
    “Nothing,” he said. “I vacuumed.”
    She touched his hand. “Everybody said to tell you hi.”
    They finished their drinks.
    “I have an idea,” she said. “Why don’t we stop and visit the Morgans for a few minutes. We’ve never met them, for God’s sake, and they’ve been back for months. We could just drop by and say hello, we’re the Myerses. Besides, they sent us a card. They asked us to stop by during the holidays. They invited us. I don’t want to go home,” she finally said and fished in her purse for a cigarette.
    Myers recalled setting the furnace and turning out all the lights before he had left. And then he thought of the snow drifting past the window.
    “What about that insulting letter they sent telling us they heard we were keeping a cat in the house?” he said.
    “They’ve forgotten about that by now,” she said. “That wasn’t anything serious, anyway. Oh, let’s do it, Myers! Let’s go by.”
    “We should call first if we’re going to do anything like that,” he said.
    “No,” she said. “That’s part of it. Let’s not call. Let’s just go knock on the door and say hello, we used to live here. All right? Myers?”
    “I think we should call first,” he said.
    “It’s the holidays,” she said, getting up from her chair. “Come on, baby.”
    She took his arm and they went out into the snow. She suggested they take her car and pick up his car later. He opened the door for her and then went around to the passenger’s side.
    Something took him when he saw the lighted windows, saw snow on the roof, saw the station wagon in the driveway. The curtains were open and Christmas-tree lights blinked at them from the window.
    They got out of the car. He held her elbow as they stepped over a pile of snow and started up the walk to the front porch. They had gone a few steps when a large bushy dog hurtled around the corner of the garage and headed straight for Myers.
    “Oh, God,” he said, hunching, stepping back, bringing his hands up. He slipped on the walk, his coat flapped, and he fell onto the frozen grass with the dread certainty that the dog would go for his throat.
    The dog growled once and then began to sniff Myers’ coat.
    Paula picked up a handful of snow and threw it at the dog. The porch light came on, the door opened, and a man called, “Buzzy!” Myers got to his feet and brushed himself off. “What’s going on?” the man in the doorway said. “Who is it? Buzzy, come here, fellow. Come here!”
    “We’re the Myerses,” Paula said. “We came to wish you a Merry Christmas.”
    “The Myerses?” the man in the doorway said. “Get out! Get in the garage, Buzzy. Get, get! It’s the Myerses,” the man said to the woman who stood behind him trying to look past his shoulder.
    “The Myerses,” she said. “Well, ask them in, ask them in, for heaven’s sake.” She stepped onto the porch and said, “Come in, please, it’s freezing. I’m Hilda Morgan and this is Edgar. We’re happy to meet you.
    Please come in.”
    They all shook hands quickly on the front porch. Myers and Paula stepped inside and Edgar Morgan shut the door.
    “Let me have your coats. Take off your coats,” Edgar Morgan said. “You’re all right?” he said to Myers, observing him closely, and Myers nodded. “I knew that dog was crazy, but he’s never pulled anything like this. I saw it. I was looking out the window when it happened.”
    This remark seemed odd to Myers, and he looked at the man. Edgar
    Morgan was in his forties,