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."
