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Georgia was unseasonably warm. Not that it ever got too cold in the southern state, there were never any outright snowmageddons or eskimo Iditarods taking place, but it wasn’t usually in the eighties on Christmas Eve. Sweater weather was more like it, but even after the sun went down, anything more than a short sleeve shirt would result in ample amounts of perspiration.
Kelley languidly stumbled across the porch and gracelessly plopped down onto the top step leading down to the path toward the driveway. Surrounded by bushes and starlight, she breathed in the fresh midnight air. Hair tumbling down to her exposed shoulders, the green of her dress bunched up around her knees as she pulled them close to her chest. She took a hearty swig from the cup of eggnog her sister had pressed into her hand earlier that evening. The mug sweated in her hand, the ceramic slick.
Humming to herself, she peered up into the black sky. Her mind registered the fact that the stars were like freckles.
Taking another sip, she blinked. Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was the fact that she had downed more of these eggnogs than she’d previously thought – and knowing her family the alcoholic beverage was secretly spiked with even more booze – but a feeling washed over her.
A feeling she had successfully ignored and forgotten about for a good chunk of the year.
Out there, by herself, surrounded by nothing but suburbia, Kelley felt utterly alone.
Her mouth tilted down into a frown as the emotion streaked down her spine and filled the dark recesses of her mind.
It was just her.
No one else.
Inside, her family was either passed out or sleeping. Tomorrow morning would bring presents and the O’Hara family Christmas extravaganza.
She should be happy. Content. She was with her family. The people who loved her. There would be lots of food and more drink. Silly singing and teasing.
But, she wasn’t.
She wasn’t content.
She wasn’t happy.
Because her parents would be there. They had been together what seemed like forever. Her grandparents, who were married even longer. Her siblings and their significant others.
Only Kelley was without someone. Without a lover. A companion. A confidant. The person who she could sneak a kiss from under the mistletoe hung precariously above the front door. The person she could share a warm mug of hot cocoa with and snuggle up against as Frosty the Snowman played on the television.
Closing her eyes, her head bent over.
There were no strong arms to hold her in the night. No perfect mouth to kiss good morning. No deep blue eyes to watch flutter awake as the smells of pancakes and bacon wafted up from the kitchen.
Shaking her head, Kelley rubbed at her face.
Later, she would blame the alcohol. Or magic. Probably magic, because she had no idea how her cellphone miraculously appeared in her hand, number dialed, and call connecting.
A freaking Christmas miracle.
Take that, George Bailey.
She clumsily held the phone up to her ear, the buzzing of each ring pulsating against her fingertips. She polished off her drink, suddenly wishing she had another. Why hadn’t her sister given her a bigger glass? Like a Big Gulp or something?
“Hello.”
Kelley fumbled with the phone as a familiar voice echoed in her ear.
“Hello?” the voice called out again. In the background, Kelley could hear crinkling and murmured voices.
The words tumbled out, “You’re supposed to eat my pancakes.”
There was a brief pause, then – “Kelley?”
Kelley sniffed, “You’re supposed to eat them, Hope!”
“Kelley…hold on…” a few seconds of jostling and a muttered curse followed. Then, there was complete silence. “What are you talking about?”
Kelley chucked her mug into the grass, eyes narrowing as she jabbed a finger in the air, “You…you’re…it’s Christmas.”
“Yes, it is.” A barely audible shuffle, “Where are you? Your parents?”
Kelley nodded, not even realizing that Hope couldn’t see it, “Why are you doing this?”
Hope sighed, “Kelley, you’re drunk, and it’s late out there. Go to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”
“No,” Kelley snapped petulantly. “I’m fine, and you’re…you…”
“Kel,”
“Listen to me!” Kelley all but shouted.
Hope went silent.
Kelley gulped, chewing on her bottom lip. “I had to watch It’s A Wonderful Life without you.”
Hope waited a moment before responding, “Kelley,”
“Do you know how sad that is?” Kelley continued, cutting her off. “Do you?” She quickly climbed to her feet, swaying at the unexpected rush the movement caused, “I had to sit and watch it with everyone but you! You weren’t there, and I was alone, and it sucks, Hope. It really sucks! Because I’m in love with you, and you…you are…I can’t make cookies with you! I can’t make you wear a stupid Santa hat or…and your arms.” She waved her free hand wildly, “They’re not here, and I can’t feel them, and all I want is you to hug me.” She listlessly dropped her hand to her side, “Is that really too much to ask for, Hope? Is it, really?”
Hope’s voice was resigned, “You need to go to bed. You’ll regret this in the morning.”
“I regret not kissing you goodbye.”
Hope didn’t reply.
Kelley sniffled again, rocking on the balls of her feet, “I regret not asking you to be mine. I regret letting you walk away and not making you see that you’re amazing and beautiful and I want to wake up to your eyes every day. I miss your eyes. I miss your laugh. I miss seeing your bazillion Starbucks cups and the way you cook popcorn.” Her voice began to shake, “I miss you so much, and I tried not to. I did. I tried, Hope. But, I miss you, and it hurts. It hurts right here!” She smacked her chest. “Why can’t you be here?”
She didn’t notice as a pair of headlights drifted down the road in front of her housing. She didn’t hear the cutting off of an engine as it parked across the street or the click of boots against the heated pavement.
She didn’t even register someone was walking towards her until the voice on the phone grew impossibly louder, closer, “Because the first flight out of Seattle wasn’t until now.”
Kelley spun around, the phone dropping from her hand, “Hope?”
Hope eyed her carefully, taking in the rumpled clothing and red face, “Have a bit too much there, O’Hara? I thought you Irish were supposed to be able to handle your liquor.”
“Hope!” Kelley ran toward her, colliding with the goalkeeper in a relieved embrace, “You’re here.”
Hope hugged her back, smirking, “Kel, you knew I was coming.”
The defender buried her face in the crook of Hope’s shoulder, “You were taking too long. You might’ve saw a gremlin and changed your mind.”
“Blame United.” Hope gently disentangled from the other woman’s hold, “Come on, you should get some water and then go to bed. You’re going to hate yourself in the morning.”
“O’Haras don’t get hangovers.”
“Tell that to Alex and Tobin from when you were roommates.”
“Lies, all lies.”
“Uh huh. Come on, KO. Santa can’t come until all little girls are in bed.”
“You’re coming with, right?”
“No,” Hope deadpanned, “I was going to stay in the rental car.”
“Pssh,” Kelley looped an arm around her waist and leaned into her, “that’s dumb. You’d miss pancakes.”
“Which I have to eat.”
“Yep. Precisely.”
“Alright,” Hope started to guide Kelley to the front door, “don’t fall.”
“You’ll catch me.” Kelley abruptly stopped and twirled around, facing Hope. “I forgot,” she rose up and pressed her lips to Hope’s, “Welcome home.”
Hope’s smile made the younger girl’s heart flutter, “Home, eh?”
“Until I get traded to Seattle.” Kelley began to walk again, “s’possed, to happen soon.” She carefully stepped onto the stair, “I miss Leo. You’ll like my mom’s pancakes. Don’t eat the eggs. Daddy makes them, and he burns ‘em.”
Hope smiled at her, not saying a word as Kelley continued to ramble.
“Did you know stars are freckles?”