If You Believe (George Harrison/Beatles FanFic)

Chapter 12

A/N -- Hi precious Beatlemaniacs! It's the weekend and here is the Friday update on George and Annie. It is a glorious 70 degrees and sunny in Southern California and I hope it's nice where you are. Exciting news coming up so buckle up and thank you as always for reading and keeping up with the story. Your comments are absolutely great! Enjoy! :-) Lara xo

Morning came way too early for Annie although George kept to his word and was protectively spooned up against her back, his arm securely across her waist. She only had 2 pints the entire night and had switched to soda unnoticed, so she felt relatively fine on the 4 hours of sleep she managed. She slipped carefully from George's arms and rose, wrapping her robe around her, and headed down the hall to the shower. Just exiting the shower room was her mom, dressed in casual slacks and a top, with a sweater around her shoulders.

"Hi cookie," she greeted Annie and kissed her cheek. "I'm glad I ran into you and not someone else. I have no make-up on!"

"Oh, mom, you look beautiful anyway," Annie assured her. "You've got skin like a porcelain doll."

"You're prejudiced," her mom teased her, taking her hands in hers. "Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale."

"Yeah. It's called 'lack of sleep'," Annie smiled. "Four hours is like a spit in the bucket."

"How about you and I sneak to the breakfast room for a cup of coffee before the men get up? You shower and dress, I'll put make-up on and I'll meet you here in say, what? 20 minutes?"

Annie nodded. "That sounds perfect," and she hurried along, meeting back up with her mom and the two of them headed down the hall to the kitchen for coffee.

After sitting down all alone at the little island in the kitchen, they both sighed happily after a sip of hot coffee.

"George still asleep?" her mom asked.

"Like a hibernating bear," Annie laughed. "I mean he sleeps heavily anyway, and add a number of pints to it and heaven knows how I'll get him up! It might take nitroglycerine."

"And you know your father. 'Sawing wood' like a real lumberjack. If we let him, he'll sleep until Labor Day."

"Mom, they don't celebrate Labor Day like we do."

"Oh, right. Isn't that confusing?"

"And no Thanksgiving. But there is a Boxing Day, which we don't have. What it's for, I have no idea."

They both laughed. "Maybe it's Rocky Balboa's birthday or something," her mom giggled, reaching across the counter and squeezing Annie's arm.

"Yeah, mom. That's it for sure," Annie nodded with a burst of laughter.

They sipped at their coffee, with Annie's mom's hand resting on her arm. "Sweetheart, are you happy?" her mom finally asked.

"Yes, mom. Very happy, honestly. George is the absolute love of my life, mom. Why do you ask?"

"You just aren't quite 'you'....like there's something bothering you. And you can't bullshit me. You've never been able to bullshit me even when you were a smart mouthed teenager."

Annie smirked. "Yeah, true. But nothing's wrong, mom."

"I'm not saying anything is wrong. I'm saying something is bothering you. What is it? Is his celebrity getting to you? Do you just miss L.A.? Or Chicago? Are things really okay between you and George?"

Annie nodded. "Everything is fine between me and George."

"Fine. Then tell me what else is going on? Steven?"