Rainy Night in Georgia

Our shower was hurried, but not without a little playing around.

Issa fretted over not having anything nice to wear for Christmas to meet new people. She had traveled light, expecting to build a wardrobe while here in the States. I told her that her jeans would be fine but she only had boring tops. She raided my closet and found a straight collar shirt I wore when I had to look dressed up, but not in a suit. I laughed when she asked to borrow it, then she came out of the bathroom, her make up done, hair brushed, and my shirt tucked into her jeans. It had probably one more button open than how I would have worn it but she wasn't exposing too much for Christmas with the family and she looked gorgeous.

"I had to admit I didn't think it would look good on you but wow you look terrific."

Her shy smile spread and she looked down muttering thanks.

Thankfully it was only about a 20 minute drive. Mom had sold the house when Sarah and I moved out and got a condo in the Windy Hill neighborhood. She said she preferred being away from the bustle of the campus and hospital and it was less upkeep. On the way I explained that mom had started out as a nurse, but went back to school and became a clinical dietitian. It was a better schedule for a single parent with 2 kids at home.

I rapped my knuckles on the door as Issa fidgeted next to me, pushing her hair behind her ear and looking around.

Mom opened the door. "Since when do you knock?" She laughed and invited us in. I set down the small box I'd brought gifts in, and she gave me a quick hug.

"I'm showing off my manners. Mom, this is Issabella Labadze, and I hope I pronounced it correctly. Issa this is my mother Joanne Bishop."

"Thank you for allowing me to come to your family celebration." She said very formally shaking mom's hand.

"You are very welcome, I'm glad you joined us. Come in."

"Are Sarah and Dave here yet? I didn't see the truck."

"They're on their way, they got a late start." She waved us to the loveseat by the fireplace and took a seat in the easy chair across from us.

"I hope everything is okay."

"Work I think." Mom turned to Issa. "Can I offer you something to drink? I have coffee ready or I can make tea or juice."

"Coffee please."

"Sarah is your sister. Who is Dave?" Issa asked after mom went into the kitchen.

"Dave is her husband, they got married last year. He's an engineer at the power plant in Buford. He gets calls at all hours if something is wrong, even on Christmas."

"Here we go." Mom came around the corner with a tray of mugs and the coffee pot.

We were settled in with coffee before mom started questioning Issa. I too was surprised to find that they don't celebrate Christmas on December 25th in old Georgia but on January 7th. The trees are a little different resembling a long white beard. She went on to explain how Papa Snow came down from the mountains to give treats to the children. She named the treat which she said was made with grape juice and walnuts.

"Walnuts in everything in Georgia." That shy smile came out and I felt my heart hammer against my ribs.

Mom began laughing. "We may be in trouble. One of the things I made was a Maple-Bourbon French toast casserole and it has pecans sprinkled over the top."

"I like them but they are in so many foods. I get away from home, and I enjoy things I do not eat there like pizza and pasta. I love Italian food." Issa seemed so animated talking to my mom and I was barely even paying attention to the actual conversation as I watched her face and hands.

Sarah barged in yelling "Knock, knock!" Dave followed wearing a Santa hat carrying a box full of gifts.

"Hey, hey, Merry Christmas everyone!"

In a whirlwind of coats being hung and introductions being made I grabbed another chair from the table and brought it into the living room. Dave began unloading the box setting gifts under the tree. Mom started another pot of coffee and Sarah joined her saying she needed to whip up the fruit salad real quick.

"Cut everything too soon and it turns brown, and I need to try and get some of the pomegranate seeds out. I love them but they're such a pain."

I saw Issa's head tilt and I knew she was confused by something.

"I can help. I can show you how to get pips out easy."

"Well come on I'd love to find out how you do it." Issa followed Sarah into the kitchen.

Dave lowered his head and looked at me with his best, "are you kidding me" look.

"What?"

"Anyone else picks up a hitchhiker and it's a Stephen King novel in the making. You pick up a supermodel hiking a back road in Clarke county.

I grinned. "She's pretty great huh?"

"You knew who she was?" Mom asked.

I nodded and related the story of having the copy of Photography Traveler magazine where there were a couple pictures of her. "Trust me, nobody was more surprised than I was."

"How'd she end up out there in the boondocks?"

"She had a job that fell through. She had to get away pretty fast from there and she just started walking. She'd been on the road for 3 days when I picked her up."

"You buy her story?"

I shrugged. "I have no reason not too. The photographer had set up a shoot and I guess his wife was away for the holiday week and came home to find her with him and went nuts. She has the rental information for a place at a B&B in Savannah that he rented as a location for this weekend. It's paid for so she's going to stay there before she goes to Baltimore for her next job."

Dave shook his head and chuckled. "I don't know man. Are you sure the wife was wrong?"

"Dave, models are photographed in every level of dress, or undress, as it were. It's very likely she did not fly here from Eastern Europe two weeks early to work with a photographer who had a portfolio and verifiable references just to sleep with the guy. Have a little faith." I delivered my rebuke with droll indifference but now he had me wondering.

"You've got a point. My apologies."

A sudden loud slapping noise came from the kitchen and mom's eyes went wide before she went to go see what was up. She came back a moment later laughing. "Those two are already thick as thieves. If you had any secrets before I'm sure your friend is privy to them now Josh."

"What was the noise?"

"Issabella was teaching Sarah how to spank the seeds out of a pomegranate with a wooden spoon." She laughed.

"You are well and done my man." Dave chucked me on the shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah. It's not like I'm ever going to see her again after I drop her off."

I felt a sudden wave of melancholy at the thought that after today I would never see Issa ever again. After the incredible time I've had helping her out and learning more about her I didn't want her to go. I thought back to just a few hours ago when we were tumbling around on my bed and a little smile spread across my lips. It wasn't just that though. I looked up and mom was just looking at me, chin on the back of her hand, coffee in the other.

"I just put the casserole in the oven, do we want to do presents now or wait until we're done?"

I shrugged and looked around.

Sarah jumped out of her chair wanting to play Santa. "Now's good." That garnered her a laugh from everyone. She started handing out a gift to each of us and the shock on Issa's face to be handed a wrapped box was obvious.

"This cannot be for me." She denied.

"It has your name on it." Sarah noted.

"It says from Santa. I guess he knew you'd be here." I pointed at the tag. I gave her a wink and a smile. Sarah doled out a few more gifts and paper began to tear. I glanced at Issa and her eyes were welling up with tears.

"Hey, are you okay."

She gave me a little nod and laid her head on my shoulder. I looked up and a quick glance was shared between mom and Sarah.

Issa slowly unwrapped the box, opening it to find a nice green sweater. She brushed her thumb along the fabric and looked at my mom and thanked her profusely.

Mom shrugged. "I had nothing to do with it. I didn't even know you were going to be here until last night."

Truth was I know darn well that sweater was probably ear-marked for Sarah and mom changed the tag and either already had, or would, tell Sarah that she's going to get her one like it. David unfolded his new alma mater Georgia Tech football sweatshirt.

I got a nice shirt, as Sarah explained I needed something better than beat up work-related tee shirts if I was ever going to have a social life.

"Found another one for Issa." She said handing it over her shoulder to me and doled out another round of gifts. I turned to hand it to her and she was in shock.

I opened a smaller package, certain of what it was when I started. Mom always asked what I wanted since I was a camera geek. I made sure to only give her stuff I wouldn't feel guilty about her spending a ton of money on. I opened the box to find the lens filters I'd put on my wish list. Sarah handed a gift to mom and reached over and gave my pant leg a little tug nodding towards her.

Mom tore off the paper to find a book. "Knitting for Beginners?" She gave Sarah a long side-eye. "I get it, I'm old, but I'm not this old yet!"

"Open it." She pressed.

A card fell out into her lap and she looked at it a moment, her eyes going wide as a big grin blossomed on her face. "Oh my goodness! You're going to have a baby?!" She held up the ultrasound image. The two of them erupted into high-pitched chatter about when Sarah found out and when she was due. I glanced over at Issa who had a broad smile on her face watching them. She glanced at me and tried to hide it unsuccessfully I was happy to see. I nodded at the wrapped package still in her lap. She began peeling paper bag quietly so as to not interrupt the two making all the noise. A waft of perfumed smells filled my nose as she opened the box to find a half dozen bath bombs with a little card describing each one.

"Lucky for you I have a bathtub. I hope that B&B has one. Just don't get caught in the rain carrying those or your bag will explode." I laughed.

"Thank you all so much." Her eyes welled up again. A buzzer went off in the kitchen.

"That's my cue." Mom stood and headed to the kitchen, a little pep in her step. Sarah grinned at us.

"She's going to be an awesome granny." We all laughed knowing that poor baby would end up spoiled rotten.

We had a wonderful brunch. Mom had outdone herself with the French toast baked with candied pecans and topped with the bourbon maple syrup, and Sarah's fruit salad. Mom fretted about the syrup for several minutes before Sarah hugged her and said it was fine, and just used straight maple syrup. We had Bellini's, except for Sarah who just had the peach nectar with seltzer, and coffee. We cleaned up after and got back to opening the rest of the gifts. I grabbed a trash bag and started gathering the mess from all the paper, bows, and ribbons that surrounded us. Issa bending to help.

We visited a little while longer reminiscing about Christmases when we were younger. Mom had to interject as many embarrassing stories she could think of into the conversation.

Sarah and David were talking about heading over to his families for dinner this evening, and I mentioned we might want to get going as Savannah was about a 4 hour drive.

Mom asked if I'd be okay for such a long drive.

"I'll be fine. I changed to seltzer in my drink after the first one, and I've had enough coffee to float a boat." I laughed. She wasn't completely mollified but relaxed a little.

Issa thanked Sarah and David again. She wasn't fooled by the tags on the gifts. She then thanked my mom for making her feel so welcome and the gifts. Mom opened up her arms for a hug and Issa leaned into her.

"I'm just happy you aren't roaming around on a back road all alone on Christmas. Thank you for coming dear."

We gathered up our things and started the way back to my place to get Issa's things. She was quiet and I glanced over and she was staring out the window. Christmas standards played softly on the radio. I reached over and picked up her hand and she flinched in surprise, then wrapped her hand with mine. I thought a moment about her predicament.

"Are you homesick?"

She turned to look at me, her face flickered with emotions held beneath the service. She nodded.

"Your family is very nice, not how expected." She let out a quiet laugh. "Americans have bad reputation."

"Well that could be because you're country is so close to Russia." I laughed. "We definitely haven't had a good reputation with them for decades now."

"Not just." She smiled, and went quiet for a long moment. "I surprise by gifts."

"We tend to share our wishes with one another early. I'm going to guess the sweater was meant for Sarah, and she told mom it was okay to give it to you. I imagine she was bursting at the seams to tell mom she wouldn't be able to wear it because it would be too small very soon. The same probably happened with the bath bombs.

"I have nothing for them. I feel..." I pulled her hand up and kissed the back of it, taking liberty after our morning tumbling in the sheets.

"It's fine. Christmas is about giving, not about receiving. Mom beat that into our heads growing up."

She was quiet a bit longer. We were almost back at my place when she turned to me.

"I have nothing for you, but I have idea." Her eyes flashed mischievously, the smirk lifting the corner of her mouth.

I felt my expression mirror hers and couldn't think of anything I'd love more than to spend more time in her arms.

She bit her lip trying to suppress a full grin.

"Davies pay for location, and time. I expected him to not pay but I think he felt bad about situation he left me with. Why not come shoot with me?"

I suddenly felt overwhelmed. She was offering me an opportunity I could only dream of.

"Are you sure? I've never done anything like that before."

"I can teach some things, but a lot I can do. You just take photos."

I pulled into the drive and turned off the engine. I turned to Issa, "I would be honored at the opportunity to shoot with such a beautiful, internationally-acclaimed supermodel."

The grin that followed lit the car as if I'd turned every light on.

"If you are lucky, you not only get to shoot with her." She leaned forward and gave me a deep kiss. When she backed away her eyebrows flickered with mischief before she got out.

"I cannot believe this is happening to me. Thank you Santa." The knock on the glass brought me back and I unlocked the doors so she could retrieve her gifts from the backseat.

Issa took her things and closed the door and walked around the front of the car. She stopped and looked at me, head cocked to one side.

"Are you coming?"

I tumbled out quickly and grabbed my things from the backseat. Issa began taking off my shirt in the living room and my eyes widened as I watched her. She caught me looking and that little smirk appeared. She took the sweater out of the box and pulled it on. It looked great on her, form fitting and just past her waist. I didn't think about it until now but Sarah was a few inches shorter than Issa's five foot nine and maybe a little less curvy but probably the same size for tops.

"It looks great on you."

She looked down at the front and V-neck was pretty conservatively cut not showing any cleavage. She carefully wiggled out of it and unhooked her bra and tossed it where my shirt hand landed. I felt my breath hitch as she stood there in just jeans and her boots. She glanced up at me and smiled.

"You are okay?"

"You are breathtaking."

"Thank you." She slipped into the sweater again and smoothed it out again. "Mmm, very soft." She ran her hands over her from her chest down to her stomach and hips, and I felt my blood heat. She turned and went into the bathroom.

I placed the book I received about Helmut Newton in the bookcase making mental note to sit down and read it as soon as the holidays settled down. I went over the shirt looking for any tags or labels before venturing cautiously into the bedroom. I went to drop it in the hamper to wash and stopped dead in the doorway to the bath.

Issa stood in front of the mirror with no pants on, only a pair of panties and the sweater. She was turning and posing, making different expressions. She turned just so and spotted me. She bit her lip, her cheeks flushed and she turned.

"I like the sweater. Would you photograph me in it?" She bent slightly and pushed off her panties and flicked them through the doorway with her toe where they landed just short of my foot.

I stood there my mouth open. Issa looked at me cocking her head to one side. "Are you all right?"

"Like that?" My voice broke high. I cleared my throat. "I mean, like that?" She smiled and then her expression turned serious.

"Have you seen my work? Other than your photography magazine?"

I stood there in shock before realizing she asked me a question. "Uh, no. I had no idea where to look to find you."

She smiled again. "Oh you are in for surprise. Is your computer on?" She walked past me and bid me follow with a flick of her finger. She sat on my chair and hopped up quick muttering something I assume was 'fuck' in Georgian. "Sorry, chair cold on ass."

I reached over and got the blanket she was using on the couch last night and folded it up for her and she sat on it. I was very aware she wasn't wearing a damn thing other than the sweater and decided then I was never washing that blanket again. She opened the browser and went to the address bar and typed something in and hit enter. A modeling website popped up and she went to the search box and put in her full name. After a moment of searching it brought up her profile. She had a killer head shot. It was obvious she was only wearing lingerie.

"May I log in to see my messages? Do you mind?"

"No, not at all. But wait one moment." I reached over and hit the bookmark button on the browser. I saw her smirk again from the corner of my eye.

Instead of logging in she went to the portfolio section. Large thumbnails of her started to appear, many of them blurred out with a watermark stating that work safe mode was on. She didn't hesitate and went up and turned it off and the images reloaded. She was in various states of undress, lingerie, draped fabrics, completely nude, even a few very suggestive shots appeared. The sort of thing you'd see in a classier adult magazine. I saw her head turn to look up at me as I leaned over her shoulder.

"This give you something to look at after I go." She laughed.

"Yes it will." I said completely distracted by the photos and neglecting the fact she was literally half naked in my chair. She brushed me away so she could read her messages on the site.

"Yes." She hissed. "Two more job offers." She looked around. "Would you see if my phone is dry now please?"

I went and grabbed the bag of rice and fished her phone out.

"Do you mind if I ask a personal question?"

She spun in the chair and I was greeted with a view that made me stammer. She had tucked one leg up underneath her and the other dangled freely. She leaned to the side her elbow on the chair arm.

"Yes."

"Uh," I shook my head to clear it and I caught her mouth quirk up, "how much do you charge for a shoot like..." I gestured at her current outfit.

"Business question, not personal. It depend on what photographs are used for. If for commercial work to be sold to media company like magazine then $200 euro or dollar per hour. If for exhibition or print sale, often $150 or maybe less if I work with photographer before and like working with them."

"Damn. I could never afford that."

"Many photographer already have customer for photos, some have place to exhibit and buyers for their work so they are not spending money they won't make back." She shrugged. "I need pay for job. I fly around world for work so they must like me." Her eyebrows flickered and a sly grin lifted the corner of her mouth.