What If

Chapter 37

The holidays finally came. Christmas was such a magical time of year. There was lots of snow on the ground, which I loved. It reminded me of home. It wasn't nearly as much as New York would've gotten, but it was more than England was used to.

I was trudging in the snow, carrying three homemade pies, fresh from the oven. I loved baking pies. It was the only sort of cooking I was good at and I loved doing it. I made them for the boys: John, Paul, and George. It was the only gift I could think of that I thought they might appreciate. I was not a good gift giver. I only hoped that I wouldn't be intruding on their time with their families. It was dinnertime, Christmas day. I wanted to make sure the pies would still be hot when they ate them for dessert, so I purposely didn't go out to deliver them until the evening.

George was my first stop. He was the closest, but in the complete opposite direction of the other two. Shivering slightly, I knocked on the door and waited patiently for an answer. I could hear a bunch of commotion and bad quality Christmas music coming from inside. Sounded like they had a lot of visitors.

The door opened and George's mother, Louise, answered. "Oh, hello, Colleen," she said. Behind her, I could see a bunch of people, none of them George. They must've been his siblings and cousins and aunties.

"Hello, Mrs. Harrison," I greeted. "Is George here?"

"Sure." She poked her head back inside and called for her son. "George!"

I waited, semi-awkwardly as George's family were looking at me through the open door, wondering who I was. I just stared at the ground, not wanting to make eye contact with any of them. I hated awkward situations.

George came out from behind the door, taking the place where his mother had stood. "Colleen?" he asked, surprised to see me standing at his doorstep.

I smiled at him and motioned to the pies in my hands. "I made you a pie," I told him shyly.

He grinned, a little shy to be doing this in front of his family too. "You did?" I nodded, shivering. "Here, come inside. You must be freezin' your ass off." He opened the door wider and stepped aside so I could walk in, which I gratefully did.

"Thanks," I said, wiggling my arms to try and shake the snow off me. His family, which were mostly in the living room, were all staring at me. They filled the couch and all the loveseats and the rest were standing with drinks and cheap hors d'oeuvres in their hands. I stared back and smiled awkwardly, feeling extremely self-conscious.

"What kind of pie did you make?" George asked, ignoring his family's stares.

"Uh, cherry," I answered. "I didn't know what kind you liked, so I took a guess."

He grinned, taking the pie on top of my short stack into his own hands. "I like cherry pie."

A man who sat at the end of the couch, closest to me spoke up. He looked a lot like George, but wasn't nearly old enough to be his father. "Who is this, George?" he asked, his brown eyes staring right into my blue ones. The rest of the family members in the room were quiet, wanting to listen.

George proudly wrapped his free hand around my waist and pulled me closer to the people in the living room. "This is my friend, Colleen," he said. "Colleen, this is my brother, Harry, and . . . the rest of my family."

"Hello," I said quietly and awkwardly.

Harry narrowed his eyes at me and smiled "Interesting accent," he said. "American?"

"Yup," I answered.

"New York," George finished for me.

His family's eyes went wide and they 'oohed' and 'ahhed', including Harry. "New York?" Harry asked, awestruck. "Impressive. What are ya doin' here?"