Curious

Let's start again,

Laura's cheeks were pink from the nipping winter winds as she stood outside Taylor's door. The celebrations continued around the two of them as they stood, taking each other in.

"You'll catch the latest plague out there, come on in, Taylor close your mouth. Best not to let flies in." Patricia cooed playfully, ushering Laura in and out of the snow. She took her jacket and scarf, hanging them on the coat rack near the door.

"Thank you so much for calling and inviting me...Ms," Laura faltered for a moment, unsure what to call Taylor's mother.

"Patricia dear," she chirped, patting Laura's shoulder.

"Patricia. I was coming back from New Jersey and couldn't have thought of a better place to be then with Taylor." Laura beamed, following the elderly woman into the living room. Her gaze followed the walls, seeing framed photos of Sam and Taylor. Soccer portraits, Taylor's first headshots, family reunion photos, Taylor at her first play, her and Sam playing basketball with their cousins...

"Oh your family is in jersey, well that's nice you're so close to New York. Boston's close too but that's a bit closer." Patricia smiled, going to the kitchen. "Can I get you some tea?"

"That would be lovely." Laura replied, sitting on the couch next to Sam. Taylor hung herself over the couch arm, drinking champagne.

"Laura, we've uh met once or twice," Sam introduced himself, shaking Laura's hand. Laura's eyes traveled along his frame, noticing how he mirrored Taylor in height.

"Of course Sam! You're looking good, you still out in the forests?" She asked him, Taylor answered before he could.

"Yes he's still in the damn forests, and you know what! He's still stopping at my place demanding we carpool home." She sighed, teasing him. Sam nudged her with his elbow, causing Taylor to tumble onto the couch. They struggled for a few moments before Taylor pulled herself to her wobbly feet. She reached out for Laura,

"Let me show you the house," Taylor giggled, knowing that Laura only needed to know about one room. And that was the bedroom.

Laura followed her gently up the creaky stairs, and turned the corner into a modest, purple painted bedroom. The bed was made up neatly, with home knitted blankets folded on top of it. The desk was full of journals, and a light with some pens and paper. Taylor's childhood awards and trophy's on one hanging shelf, souvenirs and trinkets on another.

"I missed you so much, and I just realized how much I hated being alone," Laura started to say, sitting down as Taylor laughed. The blonde languidly stretched out over the mattress. She sucked her lower lip between her teeth.

"That's why my mom called you. I was a wreck, missing you. Worrying for you..." Taylor said, staring at the ceiling, looking at the little dots where thumbtacks used to litter it holding up posters. Cycling through young Leo DiCaprio to Tori Amos once puberty hit.

Laura placed her hands on Taylor's kneecaps, rubbing softly. She took a breath.

"Taylor, you don't have to worry over me. I'm okay. We're okay. No one threw a fit, I'm already a beached whale my nephew blurted out I was fat so now we all know." She chuckled, leaning down to kiss Taylor softly.

"You're not a beached whale," Taylor mumbled through the kiss, her hands trailing up her back. Laura pulled up, shaking her head and rolling her eyes at Taylor. Taylor sat up on her elbows, looking down at the bump. Laura followed her eyes, and looked away.

"I'm scared," She mumbled, her voice low. The two women sat in silence, illuminated by the Christmas lights still hanging outside the window. Taylor pulled herself all the way up, her arm around Laura's shoulders.