Georgia grinned.
“Oh.”
“Let’s get some help.”
An elderly man who owned the land where the trees were planted helped Georgia tie the Christmas tree to the top of her truck. The radio announced that roads would be filled with at least three inches as night approached. Keliah looked out the window at the large ethereal view while Georgia mindlessly tapped a tune of her own on her steering wheel with her thumbs. Georgia drove up the hill to her cabin and Keliah helped drag the tree inside. They began decorating the tree with the ornaments Georgia pulled out of her closet while Christmas music played faintly in the background. Nightfall was approaching and so was Christmas Day.
***
After the Christmas tree had colorful lights wrapped around and a sentimental ornament hanging on almost every leaf, Georgia began cooking dinner.
“Make yourself useful and cut up these veggies will you?”
“Georgia, I can do more than that.”
“Not if you want to have a place to sleep under tonight.”
Keliah smiled before throwing a piece of lettuce at the back of Georgia’s head. Georgia pulled the leaf out of a string of her hair, laughing before continuing concentrating on her cooking. Their backs faced each other; Georgia cooking on the stove and Keliah chopping on the counter. The Christmas CD had long stopped and was replaced with a dead silence that floated between the two in the kitchen. It had been a lot of those lately; awkward moments. Keliah wasn’t really sure what they meant. She used it to strike up a topic that was remotely interesting to Georgia while she figured Georgia was just counting the seconds until Keliah would do so. She knew that Georgia wasn’t a woman of many words but Keliah refused to be the first one to act on her feelings.
“When did you learn to cook?”
Keliah asked, after a few moments of silence.
“My father. He taught me everything. He would obsess over the food network channels and recipe books and recreate meals. They were so good. If it wasn’t for sports I would’ve been one fat child.”
Georgia chuckled.
“What makes you think I can’t cook?”
“You drink coffee. You obviously have no taste.”
Keliah grinned.
“My mother is a great cook. She always prepared the big feasts on holidays. Thanksgiving, Christmas, even Easter.”
Georgia hummed in response.
“When I was younger she would have me make the iced tea or something that didn’t involve much craftsmanship because she always complained that I was a klutz and that god forbid I would hurt myself if I even went near the stove.” Keliah laughed before gasping.
“Mmm, ow.”
At the sound of the knife dropping, Georgia quickly turned around and saw Keliah holding her finger away from the food and her other hand cupping the blood the spilling out of it. Georgia pressed her back against Keliah’s as she took Keliah’s hands into her own and pinched her finger to stop the bleeding.
“Are you okay?”
Georgia’s voice was low. It tickled Keliah’s neck and ear and her body tensed and shuddered at the contact Georgia’s chest made with her back. She did everything in her power not to lean herself against the front of Georgia.
“Yeah. I just had to jinx myself.”
Keliah nervously laughed. Georgia walked her over to the bathroom and washed her hands underneath the faucet before pulling out a first aid kit. Forcing Keliah to sit on the toilet, Georgia stood over her and wrapped a bandage around her fingers before kissing it.
“So no more chopping for you. You can pick out a wine for us downstairs.”
“Georgia!”
Keliah playfully whined
“You’re not fair.”
“I don’t need you to lose a finger over squash. Now wine. Go get it.”
Georgia shooed Keliah away before returning back to the kitchen. Georgia finished cooking with Keliah only doing little tasks such as setting the table and fetching Georgia whatever utensil she needed to use. Once cleaning the dishes, Georgia and Keliah continued their conversation on Georgia’s couch. They sat across from each other with a glass of wine in each hand discussing old Christmas stories from their past. Georgia rolled her wrist around letting the deep red Cabernet swirl around in her glass as she squinted her eyes trying to focus on the story Keliah was telling. She smiled softly at times when she thought Keliah had told the punch line but she was far from the conversation. Georgia found herself concentrating on Keliah’s mouth; the way the she dragged her teeth across her bottom lip whenever she teased Georgia, or how virescent and warm her eyes would turn when she stared at Georgia without her knowledge of knowing. It sent Georgia’s mind to a place that would make her blush in public.
“Why are you blushing?”
Georgia blinked, her dilated pupils focusing back on Keliah.
“I um,” Georgia cleared her throat, adjusting in her seat.
“I’ve had too much to drink.”
Keliah arched an eyebrow. If she noticed that Georgia hadn’t even finished her first glass of wine she didn’t say anything. She slowly continued her story wondering what was wrong with Georgia. Was she really such a lightweight? Giving all the wine in her cabinet she that didn’t seem logical. Georgia had been acting strange all day and Keliah wondered if she had said something that had turned her off. Keliah's thoughts, which had been swirling fervidly in her brain, went quiet immediately and she found herself torn between shock,
