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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 24, 1969
As Alexandria went around the kitchen getting food ready for Christmas Eve night with her sister, George found sneaky ways to get her underneath a branch of mistletoe.
"What's that I taste?" George asked as he placed a big kiss on Alexandria's lips for about the thousandth time tonight.
Alexandria's cheeks turned red in an instant. "Whatever do you mean?" she asked with a silly smile.
George held up a finger. "Hold on, now," he said as Alexandria tried to slip away. He grabbed her elbow and pulled her back in before she could protest. "I taste gingerbread," he realized as he pulled back again. His eyes traveled away from his wife's blue eyes and landed on a tray of uncooked gingerbread cookies nearby. "Alexandria," he said with an accusatory grin. "You're eating the cookie dough!"
"Shh..." Alexandria said with a giggle.
George let go of her elbow and turned toward the tray of cookies. He promptly took them into his hands and place them in the oven. "You shouldn't be doing that," he said. "Cookie dough is bad for you."
"It was just a little pinch," Alexandria argued, going over to the sink to wash her hands.
"A little pinch is not enough to warrant me tasting it on your tongue, love," George quipped, following behind her and placing his hands on her hips. Alexandria smiled to herself as she dried her hands. She turned around, and George moved his hands to her belly. "Merry, merry Christmas, baby," he sang, stroking a hand along Alexandria's stomach before making eye contact with her. "Sure do treat me right," he added with a cheeky smile.
Alexandria, recognizing the song immediately, added jokingly, "Will you give me diamond rings for Christmas? Then, I'll be living in paradise."
"Oh, I'm sure you would be," George tutted. Then, the silly look in his eyes softened a bit. "You've been at this for a while, love," he said. "Maybe you should take a break, get off your feet for a mo' or two."
Alexandria's eyes scanned the kitchen. "But there's so much to do," she responded.
George hooked his arm through that of his wife and led her into the living room. "You've still got three hours before Kath gets here," George answered as he pulled her down on the couch.
Alexandria propped her feet up on the coffee table and leaned into George's side, silently grateful for a moment of rest. She hated hosting guests. She wasn't the hosting type. It stressed her out beyond belief, and she had already stopped a thousand times since she'd woken up to ask herself if it was even worth it. She folded her arms below her stomach and looked down at the small bump that was just showing through her sweater. Then, she leaned her head against George's shoulder. "It does feel good to sit down," she admitted quietly.
