dancing on the edge | p.t.v {book 2}

Chapter Thirty-Six: Cooking Up A Storm

Chapter Thirty-Six: Cooking Up A Storm

One thing good about Christmas in San Diego, no snow to slip on. One bad thing about Christmas in San Diego, no snow. But it still rather chilly, meaning it was time for a beanie. I hummed as I danced around the kitchen, helping with the cooking of Christmas Eve dinner. Sharon was next to me, baking up her infamous potatoes.

"Yes, Olivia is coming down from New York. Jack and Leanne are bringing Drake and September with them.... It's a name, now shh. Tammy and Wes are bringing some pumpkin pie, Darren's been called out but Sharon's here. Mom and Dad, on both sides are coming and Julia is bringing her three kids down too." Mom tried to stir a pot whilst talking to dad over the phone. She was also skilled with holding the phone between her ear and shoulder.

"No Bill can't make it, he has his own family.... What, no Trevor. Cat, can you stir this while I talk to your father?" She looked at me, looking flustered. Her sandy hair all mused and her glasses nearly slipping of her nose. I shooed her off, grabbing the ladle, also grabbing a piece of carrot Sharon was cutting while her potatoes cooked. As mom walked out, I leaned so my head was poking in the view of the doorway.

"Mom, don't forget Vic's coming too!" I yelled after her through a mouth full of carrot. I heard Sharon make a small noise as I continued stirring.

"What?" I asked her, the heat of the stove making me want to loose the cute beanie.

"Is this Vic's first full family experience?" She asked curiously. I nodded.

"Yeah, I guess the family isn't huge, but you know them. Their loudness puts Greek families to shame." Sharon laughed merrily.

"True, if he can survive your uncle Jack after he's had a bit of wine." We both giggled at that. There was then a knock at the door.

"Oh, speak of the devil."

"Jack?"

"No, Vic." Sharon gave me an 'oh' look. I continued stirring before yelling that the door was open. I heard the door open and shut, before Vic appeared around the corner. He had a plaid shirt, with black jeans and his, surprisingly curly today, hair tucked under a beanie similar to mine.

"Something smells good." He walked over to me, giving me a kiss on the cheek. He then smiled at Sharon.

"Merry Christmas Sharon." He said, giving her a polite kiss on the cheek too. Vic let out a sigh, he arms flopping to his sides.

"What would you like me to do?" I offered him the handle of the ladle in my hand.

"Keep stirring this up while I check on this Christmas turkey." He took it off my hands, while I twirl in the kitchen, looking through the oven door. The bird was looking damn fine. It didn't take long for mom to return, and once the basic things were cooked, or being cooked, she said we were free of the kitchen slavery. Vic followed me up to my room, after retrieving his bag from the front door. I walked into my room and I face planted tiredly onto my bed. I let out a small groan of tiredness into my pillow case. I felt the bed sink next to me, before weight laid across my back, earning another grunt. I felt Vic's little chuckle as I turned onto my back, Vic's head laying on my stomach. I wiggled over closer to the wall, so Vic could fit on my bed properly. We laid there in silence for a little bit, as I played with some of the curls that touched his shoulder.

"Are you sure you don't wanna spend Christmas morning with your parents? Y'know, instead of staying here." He shook his head, reaching for my unoccupied hand, twining our fingers, pressing a soft kiss to the back off it.

"Nah, I wanna spend it with you." A huge smile tugged at my lips. There was two seconds of quiet.

"Aww." Vic chuckled lightly again. With each breath I took, Vic's head shifted lightly. Vic turned his head so he was looking up at me.