Old Acquaintance

"Looks like you got here just in time, Miss Summers." He leaned further across the glass case to be heard over the blaring loudspeaker. "You better be careful heading home on these roads."

Phyllis smiled at him as he quickly bagged the deli items for her and passed stepped out from behind the counter to place them in her cart. "Thank you, Greg," she said softly. "I'll be fine. My formative years were spent in Wisconsin, so this is nothing for me."

"Ah," he grinned. "I do remember you saying something about that now that you mention it. We don't get a whole lot in the way of winter weather around these parts, so when it comes the whole damn place just shuts down."

"That's not so bad I guess. Gives everyone a little extra time at home over the holidays, right?"

He tilted his head as if to consider the legitimacy of her argument. "You've got a point there," he finally agreed. "You need some help getting these out to the car?"

"I'll be fine." She waved to him as she headed towards the door. "You take care and have a Merry Christmas."

She couldn't help but think about how she'd be spending the holiday this year. It wasn't going to be the holiday she'd planned, nothing like last year for sure, but she was determined not to wallow. It could be so much worse. She'd had so much worse. There was a multitude to be thankful for and this year, she would focus on that. She would be grateful for that. She would spend her time relishing in all the good in her life and stop fixating on every mistake she'd ever …

Her steps suddenly stopped, the cart hitting something unmovable which she quickly realized was a person. "I'm so sorry," she immediately responded. "I wasn't paying attention and …"

She saw a hand raise and realized a phone was pressed to her victim's ear. If his harsh tone was any indication, his night had been ruined far before this encounter with her.

"So you're telling me that two inches of snow on the ground literally stops everything? No flights, no rental cars, nothing. That's the most ridiculous …"

He was still talking, but the words no longer computed. It was the tone, the intonation, the gestures, the inflection of every single syllable. For a moment, she considered she might be going crazy. This was Charlotte, North Carolina. There was absolutely, positively no reason for Billy Abbott to be here – just as there was no reason for her to be. And yet she would be every cent she had that the man in front of her, the man she'd nearly plowed down with a shopping car was the same man she'd been fighting to keep out of her mind for nearly three years. She swallowed hard before forcing her lips to form the word. "B-B-Billy .."

The reaction was unmistakable. The voice became silent. The phone lowered. The shoulders dropped and then he slowly turned around to look at her.

She'd heard people say that time stood still though she'd never truly understood the concept until that moment. His face, his eyes … the way he looked at her – in that one instantaneous second, it was as if nothing had changed, as if no time had passed, as if they had never been apart.

"Phyllis," he repeated, both of them realizing at the same time that the only words they'd managed to speak had been each other's names.

Nervous laughter filled the silence and he stepped a little closer towards her so that the automatic doors would close and block the biting wind. "What are you … I mean, you're here … How are you?"

Her head shook slowly as her mind whirled around the same questions. "Yeah. I am … I uh, I live here. I mean, I've lived here for about 2 and half years now. It's a long story kind of …" In truth, it was a fairly short story – one she could have summed up in a quick few sentences, but one she suddenly didn't want to share with him. "What about you? You don't live …." She let the question hang in the air.

"No. I'm still in Genoa City. There's this event in Miami … it came up at the last minute and Jack wanted somebody there. Because of the holidays, the jet was already booked, so I thought I'd fly commercial and I was supposed to catch a connection here, but …"

She smiled knowingly. "Snowmageddon."

"Right," he sighed. "I mean, there's what two inches on the ground."

"And possibly 2 more inches tonight and tomorrow." She widened her eyes in mock seriousness. "They take snow very seriously around here. You'll find that out quick."

"Yeah, I'm starting to get that message." He held her gaze longer than was necessary and finally forced himself to look away as he felt the uncomfortable feeling building between them.

"So they've delayed your flight?"

"Cancelled," he huffed. "And with the weather not improving tomorrow not to mention that tomorrow's Christmas Eve … I'm probably not going to be going anywhere for the next couple of days."

"I'm sorry," she said earnestly. "Did you get a rental car at the airport or did they comp you a room?"

"That's the best part. The rental car companies are all closed because of hazardous conditions as are the public transit systems and the airport transport only runs every two hours, so they'll comp a hotel, but I have to wait two more hours to head there. Merry Christmas, huh?"

She could feel the nervous energy pulsing through her body. This was a man she'd known for years. They had a history. They'd made mistakes. They'd hurt each other on more than one occasion, but they'd also made each other happy. If the shoe was on the other foot, she couldn't help but think he'd offer her the same courtesy and wasn't that what this was? It was all it had to be. A courtesy towards a friend. Her teeth bit down on her bottom lip before she spoke. "Well, it's Christmas," she began haltingly, "Why don't you just come back with me?"

His eyes flashed with surprise as he met her gaze once more. "Um …" The corners of his lips twitched slightly and she felt her cheeks flush.

"I just mean it's silly to spend the holidays by yourself if you don't have to. I've got my car and you can come back to the house and it'll be nice. We can catch up and talk and …" She paused again, the words leaving her. "And it'll be nice," she repeated.

He could sense her hesitation, her nervous energy. In a strange way, it gave him hope – hope that she still felt something – something that wasn't rage, that wasn't hatred, that wasn't complete and total disregard. If she was uncomfortable in his presence, it meant she was conflicted. It meant there was still love and hate jockeying for position inside her heart and if there was a chance – even a small one, he had to seize it. "If you're sure," he said finally. "I don't want to interfere."

She nodded. "You won't be. Not at all. It's Christmas after all. No one should be alone at Christmas."