The next few months went by pretty fast.  Paul and I continued to work on ‘McCartney’ which was almost completed, and Paul continued to work on The Beatles record, which was also almost finished.  By early December Paul and the other’s decided to take a break from the album and be with their families.  I had no idea of the news until Paul came home one night.

            “Olivia?  Sweetheart where are you?” I heard Paul yell.  I was currently on the phone with Aunt Jin talking about Christmas plans.  Being that our families were so far from each other, we alternated years for holidays—mainly Christmas’s.  This year it was the McCartney’s turn and we were just discussing when Paul and I would be coming up with Mary.

            “One second Aunt Jin,” I said into the phone and covering the receiver with my hand.

            “Olivia?!” I heard Paul yell again.  I laughed.

            “Paul I’m up here—in the bedroom!”  I yelled and shook my head.  Men.  I heard thumping on the stairs as Paul probably followed by Martha made their way to me.  Paul walked in smiling, sure enough Martha at his heal.  He gave her a nuggie on the head and walked closer to me.

            “What you doing in here?”

            “I was putting Mary in something warmer and the phone rang so I just answered it,” Paul nodded.

            “Who you talking to?” he asked sitting next to me on the bed, kissing my cheek.

            “Your aunt,”

            “Aunt Jin?  What’s she on about?”

            “Well, if you would let me talk to her, I will let you know,” I said sarcastically.  He rolled his eyes and scrunched his face.  I laughed and he stood up heading for the bathroom.

            “Hurry up—I have something to tell you,” he said pointing his left index finger at me and disappearing into the bathroom.  I smiled.

            “Sorry Aunt Jin, you know Paul,” I said.

            “Oh yes, quite the talker he is,” she laughed, “Well, honey, talk things over with him about Christmas and let me know when you’ll be coming up,”

            “Will do,” I responded.

            “Alright, have a good night dear,”

            “Thank you Aunt Jin, you too,”

            “Ta,”

            “Bye,” I said hanging up.  A lot of my speaking had changed over the 5 years I had lived here, but some things stayed so darn American.  I could never get into the whole ‘ta’ bit, so I continued saying bye which was natural to me, but it just sounded so weird.  Paul hadn’t emerged from the bathroom yet and I approached the open door to find him looking in the mirror.  I laughed and he turned to me.

            “Oh hello,” he said.

            “What are you doing?”

            “Fixing me hair, why?” I shrugged.

            “You’re so vain,” I began to sing kidding him.  He laughed,

“I am not, I just like to look good that’s all,”

“It’s only me though,”

“Well, I still like to look good for you,” he smiled putting his arms around me.  He smiled and kissed me,

“You had something to tell me?” I asked, “It’s not bad is it?” Paul laughed.

            “Why would it be bad?”

            “Well, sometimes I’m not sure about you,” I responded and Paul looked surprised.

            “What’s that supposed to mean?”

            “I don’t know—I just—you surprise me sometimes,” I said kissing him to make up.  He squinted at me, but then smiled.

            “Are you referring to the farm?  Because you said you’re glad I bought it,” I smiled.

“I am, but at the time, buying over a hundred acres of farmland wasn’t exactly the thing I had expected to hear from you—being a Big City man and all,” Paul laughed.

“Well, I think this may surprise you, but not in a weird way,”

            “Okay, what is it?”

            “I’m done till next year,” he said raising his eyebrows.

            “What do you mean you’re done?  Not recording?” I asked sure it wasn’t that.  However, Paul nodded.

            “Yeah recording.  We all decided we needed a break.   Spend the Christmas month with our families and just doing what we want,”

            “That’s wonderful!”  I smiled.

            “See, I knew you’d like it,” he laughed, “So we can leave for Liverpool earlier—be with the family longer,”

            “That’s what Aunt Jin was calling about,” I told him, “she wants to know when we are all coming up, over, wherever it is in relation to here,” I said and Paul laughed a little.

            “You are horrible with directions,”

            “Be quiet,” I said shoving him a little.  He smiled.

            “What did you tell her then?”

            “I said I didn’t know.  I said I needed to talk to you first—see what your schedule allowed,”

            “Gear—did she say who all was coming?”

            “The normal crew,” I said and Paul laughed.

            “Crew?  Liverpool is a big docking city, but me family doesn’t live on a ship love,” I rolled my eyes and pushed him, leaving the bathroom.  He followed me grabbing me again and pulling me to him, “I’m just joking,”

            “Well then, the normal bunch if you will.  Your dad and Ruth obviously, Aunt Jin and Harry, Mike, Angela and Peter,” Paul nodded.

            “When are they coming up?”  I laughed.

            “I know more about your family right now than you do!”

            “I know, I know—I’ve just been busy that’s all,” he said walking away seeming a bit offended.  He walked over and picked up Mary from her crib.  She giggled.

            “Paul, I didn’t mean it negatively,” I said sitting on the edge of the bed.  Paul sighed and sat next to me, Mary still in his arms.

            “I know you didn’t ‘Liv,” he said putting a free hand on my knee, “I just feel so guilty you know?  I mean, it’s bad enough I don’t get to spend as much time as I want with you and Mary, but I’ve almost completely lost touch with me other family—it’s not the way I wanted it.  I’m very family oriented you know, always have been,”

            “I know sweetheart,” I said kissing his cheek and he smiled, “It’ll get better once—you know, The Beatles are over,” I said a little softer.  He nodded.

            “Well, Mary looks all cute in her winter outfit,” Paul said changing the subject.  I smiled, “You’re lucky your mum is so fashion obsessed,” Paul laughed talking to Mary.

            “I’m not fashion obsessed,” I defended myself and Paul raised his left eyebrow, and I could tell he was about to mimic me.

            “No Paul, you can’t wear tennis shoes with a suit! It doesn’t match! Paul are you serious?  You need to get rid of those dang cow pants!  Why?  Because Paul, they aren’t very fashionable, believe me.  Paul, why do you have every color of the rainbow in pants?  Paul, you can’t--” I laughed.

            “Stop it; I get it,” I said and Paul nodded, “So I like fashion,” I said casually.

            “Like fashion?!” Paul said and huffed out a laugh, “Like I said, you my dear, are obsessed with fashion—and always will be,” he grinned and I just shook my head, “We’ll be 80 years old—I can just hear you now, ‘Paul sweetheart, you can’t wear those Velcro shoes.’” Paul imitated an old lady, ‘But Olivia love, I can’t tie me shoes any more, I’m too old,” he continued to say in his normal voice.  I laughed, “I don’t care Paul, they aren’t fashionable,”

“Are you ever going to stop?” I asked laughing.

“Yeah I’m done—only if you admit you are obsessed with fashion,” he said eyeing me. 

“Okay, okay, I’m obsessed with fashion,” I admitted and he smiled.

“Glad you’ve come out of denial,” he laughed, “However, as much as you do know fashion, you always seem to forget that I too know fashion.  I am viewed as quite the fashion man,”

“Right, only because you’re a Beatle.  And don’t get me wrong, I love the way you dress.  There’s just the 3% of your wardrobe I could do without,” Paul laughed, “And if you’ve noticed the only fashion that you’ve rubbed on others is: the hair, the boots, and the suits.  I don’t see everyone running out to buy orange, yellow, purple, red, blue, and green pants, because Paul McCartney wears them—in fact, I think you are the only person I’ve ever seen or know that has pants of every color, other than Peter and well, he’s just weird,” Paul began laughing yet again.

“Fine, fine, you got me.  But I like me colored pants—they’re unique, you know and some day’s you just think, ‘Man I wish I had a pair of purple pants’ and I do!” he said and I laughed shaking my head, “I know it drives you mad—that’s part of the reason I still wear them,” I shot a glance at him and he smiled, “But it’s alright—I like my little fashion guru,” he said kissing me, “So when did she get this outfit anyway?” he said relating back to Mary.

            “We bought it today,”

            “Today?  You went shopping?” I nodded.

            “Yeah, I went with Cynthia actually,” I said and Paul looked over at me.  I obviously caught his attention.

            “Cynthia?  Like, Cynthia Lenn-Powell?” he corrected himself.  I nodded.

            “Yeah—I was looking at pictures today and found one of me, Pattie, and Cynthia, before you and I were engaged I think,”

“That seems like forever ago,” Paul said letting out a little laugh. 

“Yeah it does, which is what got me.  I realized that I hadn’t seen them in ages.  I don’t think I’ve seen either of them since--”

            “Since that night you left me and went to stay with your parents,” Paul blurted interrupting me.  I looked over at him and he just stared at Mary, face emotionless—though I could always read through the cover.  I stood up and took Mary from him and he looked at me clueless.  I put her in her crib and I walked back over to Paul sitting on his lap and kissing him.  He groaned slightly, wrapping his arms around me pulling me close for a deeper kiss.  He moved his hands slowly up and down my back, his left hand resting slightly on the back of my neck pulling my head closer to his.  I leaned him back so I was on him and pulled away gently.

            “That was the worst mistake I ever made,” I said softly.  Paul smiled shyly and with his finger put a loose strand of hair behind my ear, “I’ve told you that already—if I could do it over and change things, I would,”

            “I know, it just,” Paul looked away, “It hurt—more than anything.  I seriously wasn’t sure if you were going to come back—I remember thinking, ‘Hell Paul, there you went and done it,’  I thought I was going to lose you, and I think you were pregnant during that time too—hell, I’d lose you and me first baby,” Paul said remembering, “I was trying to figure out how the hell I was supposed to go on. It was devastating and it hurts when I think about it; it was the worst time of me life,” I kissed him again aching with the pain I caused him.

            “It won’t happen again, I swear,” I said and he smiled once more.

            “I believe you,” he kissed my nose and I laughed slightly, “I’m sorry I interrupted, you can continue—just don’t move,” he winked.

            “I won’t, I comfortable here,” I said and he smiled with a satisfactory nod, “Anyway, it got me thinking how much we lost touch and how I wished we hadn’t.  Then I wondered how she was doing since the whole divorce and all—I know we visited her right after that, but I don’t think it had really hit her yet,”

            “Did you just ring her then or go right over there?”

            “I thought about just going over there, but I didn’t want to intrude and I wasn’t sure if she would want to do something with me.  So I ended up calling her and she was actually really happy to hear from me.  She said she heard about us having a baby and had been thinking about us for quite some time but hadn’t gotten the guts to call and arrange a date,”

            “She should’ve,” Paul said and I nodded.

            “That’s what I said. Then I proceeded to tell her about how I had been thinking about her a lot too, and then found the picture, and was wondering if she wanted to go out for the day.  Obviously she agreed and she brought Julian—who is so big now by the way!” I said smiling.

            “Yeah?  How old is he now?  He’s got to be, what, six?”

            “Yep, turns seven this April—he’s excited,” I said.

            “I bet knowing little kids…how’s he doing?  You know, without his dad?” Paul asked truly concerned.  I shrugged.

            “Well, obviously I didn’t ask him,” Paul smiled and rolled his eyes, “But we stopped at a park for lunch and Cynthia and I talked about it when Julian was off playing—she said every once and a while he’ll ask where John is, but mostly he just doesn’t understand,”

            “Poor lad,” Paul said shaking his head, “I wish John had the decency to at least keep in touch with his son,”

            “Me too, but it’s got to be awkward with Cynthia,” I pointed out.

            “Yeah maybe, but come on, it’s his bloody son,” Paul said, “This would never happen and I don’t like talking about it--but if I were to leave you, I’d still come to see Mary.  It would probably hurt and feel awkward for us to see each other like you said, but I’d never want to lose touch with me kid,”

            “I suppose,” I said, “But he’s doing alright for now—unfortunately, I’m sure it’ll be worse when he gets older, and he wont understand, but…it was a good time overall.  Cynthia loved Mary,” Paul smiled.

            “I love when people like her,”

            “Me too,”

            “I’m glad you had fun today love,” Paul said rubbing my back gently again.  I smiled and nodded.

            “I’m just glad I had the guts to finally call her,”

            “Same here, I feel like such an ass for not remembering about her,” Paul said shaking his head.

            “It’s alright Paul, you’ve been busy with some ‘not so fun’ stuff—I’m sure she understands.  After all, it was your idea to visit her right after the divorce—bringing her roses and all,” I smiled and kissed him, “You’re so sweet,”

            “It’s all I’ve got love,” he laughed.  I shook my head.

            “That statement is not even close to being true,”

            “I’ll take your word for it,” Paul smiled kissing me, “So, when do you want to head to me dad’s?”

            “Like what time today?  Or what day?”

            “Either, which ever one you want,”

            “I don’t know, what do you want to do?” I asked and Paul shook his head.

            “Nope we aren’t going to play this game—I asked you.  It’s your decision,” I pouted as if I was 12 and Paul laughed.

            “Aunt Jin said she’s already up there—she called from your house.  And I guess Mike and Angela are coming up the 15^th,” I glanced at the calendar, “So they’ll be there in 3 days,”

            “So….?”

            “So, let’s go up tomorrow night,” I decided, “That way we can be with your dad and stuff a bit before your brother and sister-in-law gets there,”

            “What you don’t like being with me brother?” Paul asked laughing.

            “No, I didn’t say that,” I rolled my eyes, “I’m just saying, maybe you’ll like some time just you and your dad, just a couple days—then you’ll have over a week to be with everyone,”

            “Settle down, girlie, settle down,” I frowned, “I think it’s a fab idea,” he said kissing me.

            “Since when am I ‘girlie’?”

            “Since a minute ago,” Paul laughed. I smiled and began to get up.  Paul flexed his arms and held me in place, “Where do you think you are going?”

            “I was going to call your Aunt and tell her what we decided,” I said.  Paul shook his head and I raised an eyebrow, “What are you shaking your head no for?”

            “You come back down here,” he said pulling me back to him and reaching over to the phone on the other side of him, “I’ll ring her and you’ll stay in me arms,”

            “Bossy, bossy,” I kidded him settling myself beside him and halfway on him rather than completely.

            “Hey dad, its Paul,” I heard Paul say, “I’m doing fine—busy, but fine. The lads?  Oh they’re alright I suppose… Yourself?  How have you been feeling lately?...good, good….well, I hear Aunt Jin is already there,” Paul said laughing a bit at his Aunt, “Gotta love her though…yeah…well, it turns out I’m done with Beatle stuff for the month…yeah, we just figured we needed some breathing room…uh huh…yep, we’re planning up coming over tomorrow evening sometime?  Is that alright?”  There was some silence and I looked up at Paul, “He’s asking Jin if she’s got something planned for dinner,” Paul whispered to me.

            “I see,” I nodded, “Aunt Jin always planning dinners,”

            “Of course!” Paul laughed, “Yeah, I’m here.  Oh, ‘ello Jin.  Yeah, I’m great.  Of course we’d love to come before dinner—as long as it doesn’t ruin anything….alright alright,” he laughed, “We’ll be over around—fourish?  Earlier?  Three, how’s that?  Alright, give my love to dad and the rest.  You too Jin, ta ta,” Paul said reaching above his head to hang up the phone.

            “She’s fine with it?”

            “Do you even have to ask?  She’s changing her whole meal plan tomorrow just for us,” Paul laughed.

            “What?  Why is she doing that?”  Paul shrugged.

            “Ah love, you know Jin.  She’s going to cook me favorite,” Paul wiggled his eyebrows.  I continued to amuse him.

            “Oh and what would that be?”

            “Milk, whipped cream, strawberries, and me wife,” Paul laughed.  I rolled my eyes.

            “Pretty sure I’m NOT doing anything remotely close to that while we are there—let alone if Aunt Jin were to supply us,” I laughed and Paul continued to laugh.

            “Ahhhh, party pooper,” he smiled.

            “No, I’m just not into that kind of stuff with the family,” I said and Paul giggled, “That’s twisted that is,”  

            “Wait,” he said smile erased from his face.

            “Wait what?”

            “What you mean you aren’t going to do anything remotely close?” he asked, “If you aren’t going to do anything close to that, that means we aren’t going to…you know,”   I laughed.

            “You know?  How old are we, 13?” I asked and Paul sneered at me.

            “Don’t be like that, you know I can be vulgar and raw when it comes to sex,” I nodded knowing he was right, “I’m being gentle for you, but since you made a big deal of it—we aren’t going to have sex at all?” he asked flat out.  I laughed.

            “Do you ever think about anything else?” I kidded him.

            “Ha ha love,” he said, “Of course I do—though it does take up quite a bit of me mind, after all it’s you.  I can’t help but think of that when I look at you,”

            “Ohhhh, how sweet,” I said as he rolled his eyes.

            “But seriously, we aren’t?  That’s a long time you know, that would be saying if we don’t have sex tonight, we won’t till next year!”  I laughed.

            “Settle down,”

            “Well?  I don’t think I can go that long,”

            “Sure you can, ‘next year’ is only a few weeks away.  Besides, you did it in that room remember?”  Paul blurted out a laugh.

            “Ha, you think that was easy for me?  It was even harder than because I didn’t even know what it would be like.  Now I can at least just think of a time and get something, but then—I just knew I wanted it, it would be great, but couldn’t have it.  And that damn guy let us get so bloody close so many bloody times, and then he’d rip me away—hurting me in the process.  Bastard,” Paul shook his head and rubbed his face in remembrance, “Not to mention you walking and laying about in your undergarments,” he sighed and shook his head, “That was hell love.  I don’t want to do that again, I can’t believe I was able to survive,” I laughed.

            “You act as if it was a life or death situation yet you were able to push through it,” Paul raised his eyebrows and nodded.

            “It was life or death for me,” Paul said with a smirk, “I was used to doing it with girls cuz they were pretty and because I could.  Here I was stuck in a room with the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, walking around in her panties, I knew I could do it with her, but at the same time I couldn’t, and the biggest reason of all—I was falling head over heals in love with her more and more everyday,”

            “You keep saying walking around in my panties as if I did it by choice and was just struttin’ my stuff,” I laughed and got another laugh from Paul.

            “Well, I wouldn’t mind that—now anyway.  But then it was hard—literally,” he giggled to himself.  I shook my head.

            “You did fine—you made up with your little bathroom visits anyway,” I said wrinkling my nose.  Paul did the same and then kinda smiled.

            “That’s not what I wanted to be doing though—it’s the only thing I had.  Besides, I don’t do that anymore—well, not when I’m with you anyway.  When we’re apart then--”

            “Okay that’s enough,” I stopped him and he laughed, “We need to stop--‘Vulgar Paul’ is emerging from his hiding place,”

            “I warned you,” Paul said, “But, back to the original question, are we really not going to?”  He pouted.

            “No, I’m sure we will…I’m just not doing the kind with sexier….foreplay,” I said and Paul laughed.

            “You’re cute,” he smiled, “You remind me of Emily sometimes,”

            “What?!”

            “Yeah, you get all shy when you talk about sex,”

            “I do not,” Paul laughed.

            “Yes you do!  But I like it—it’s very innocent like and cute,” he said kissing me, “It turns me on you know,”

            “Does it now?” I asked laughing and he nodded.

            “Yes it does, but then again everything you do does,”

            “Oh I’m sure not everything,”

            “I disagree,” he argued and I smiled, holding back a yawn.

            “Well, I say we get something to eat and go to bed,”

            “You tired?”

            “A bit, I was shopping today remember? Besides, Mary wasn’t the best today,” I said.

            “What do you mean?  She seems happy to me,” Paul said looking over at her, now sleeping.   I sighed and shook my head.

            “Well, she hasn’t seen you since this morning so of course she’s happy when she sees you.  But she was a grouchy baby today,” Paul frowned.

            “I wonder why,”

            “I think she may be having little gas problems, but I think mostly it’s because she’s weaning,” Paul nodded.

            “Oh yes, I bet it’s that. I forgot that she’s trying the bottle now—no more breast feeding,” he said nodding, “Though I must say, I don’t blame her.  I’d be grouchy too if I had to stop eating from you,” I sat up and hit Paul as he laid and laughed to himself on the bed.

            “Jeez Paul!” I said disgusted, “I swear you are John in disguise sometimes,”

            “I’m sorry, love, really,” he said still laughing at himself.  He seemed to be almost crying.  I was completely off the bed now, “That was bad, it was, I’m sorry.  It seems Vulgar Paul doesn’t want to go back into hiding,”

            “I see that,” I said leaving the room.

            “Hey, you don’t have to leave me!” Paul shouted coming after me, the baby monitor in his hand, “Where are you going?” he asked catching up to me.

            “Away from you,” he pouted, “I’m going to eat something,” I said and shot a glance at him, “Don’t say anything,” I pointed at him.  He smiled.

            “I wasn’t going to—I promise,” He said, “I’m sorry, really,” I looked at him, “Forgive me?”

            “I don’t know,” I said playing with him, “I might, but there’s going to have to be punishments,” I said walking off the last step.  Paul groaned.

            “No, I don’t like your punishments—they’re cruel because you are always taking the same thing away from me,”

            “Well then maybe you shouldn’t talk so dirty,” I said.

            “I’m sorry,” Paul said and I felt a tug on my shirt.  I turned around and he was kneeling on the ground.  Martha ran over and began licking his face, “No Martha, not now,” he said to her.  She obviously didn’t care—her master was vulnerable right now and she was taking advantage of it.  I had to hide my smile.

            “See, you’ll get some kisses tonight—just not by me,” I said keeping my straight face.  Paul looked up at me with sad eyes.  His eyes were sad but he couldn’t help but smile as Martha kept trying to knock him over.  When I first saw her she was only about a year old and I thought she was big then.  Now she was about 6 and bigger than ever—with Paul smaller than the average man, as all the Beatles were, Martha seemed to tower over him—especially when he was at the same level as her.

            “Martha please,” Paul giggled trying to push her away, but she just assumed he was playing.  I couldn’t help it and laughed.  Paul looked up at me hearing me giggle, “Keep going girl, we’ve got her laughin’,” Paul said and with that I turned around and walked away.   I made it into the kitchen and could hear Paul speaking and laughing to Martha.  I grabbed a plate from the cupboard but Paul’s hand came around me and took it from me.  I turned.

            “What are you doing?”

            “You go sit.  I’m going to make you dinner,” he said leading me to the couch.

            “Oh really?  And what are you going to make?” I asked curious.  He knew as well as me that this was all a big joke, but hey, if he was really going to make me dinner, I’m going to let him.  He was really a pretty good cook—and if he’s “making up”, he’ll probably cook something really nice.

            “Macaroni and Cheese,” he responded and I looked at him, eyebrows crossed.  He laughed, “No, I’m just joking love.  It’s a surprise,” he said, “Just sit down and enjoy yourself,” he said pointing to the couch.  He started to walk away and then turned back, “Oh, you might want this too in case,” he said being serious and giving me the baby monitor.  I took it and sat like he told me too.  I flipped on the TV as he went back into the kitchen.  Over the next 30 minutes I heard a bunch of clanking and I suddenly felt bad.  I knew he enjoyed cooking and making things for me, but on this occasion I was slightly paranoid that he really thought I was upset about his comment.  I mean yeah, it was gross, but that was Paul and I have to admit I love him for it.  I turned my body on the couch.

            “Paul?” I called out.

            “Yes love?” I heard him answer.

            “Are you okay in there?  Do you need anything?”

            “No, this is for you love.  Its part of me apology,” he said and with that I felt horrible.

            “Paul?” I called again.

            “Yes love?”

            “Will you come here?”

            “Sure,” he responded and made his way out into the living room.  He stood halfway in the kitchen so I could face him.  He looked so cute in his little apron.  I curled my finger to him and he walked over so he was standing on the other side of the couch right in front of me.

            “I love you,” I said and moved on my knees so I could reach his lips—though he was still a bit taller than me.  I wrapped my arms tight around his neck and kissed him deep.  Thankfully he responded, putting his arms around me and pushing himself against me.  I pulled away and he raised his eyebrows, “You know I’m not really mad at you don’t you?”  I asked softly and he laughed.

            “Of course I do,” he smiled kissing me again and winking.

            “Really?  You promise?  Because you don’t have to do all this…”

            “Yes really, who could be mad at me—with this face,” he kidded and I just looked at him. 

“I’m serious.  You do know I’m not mad?”

“Oh stop it.  Yes, I know you aren’t mad at me, but I really do want to make you dinner.  You do so much for me all the time, the least I can do is make you supper when you are tired and worn out,”

            “But you are too,” I pointed out.  He rolled his eyes.

            “Nah, I’m used to it—we just sit round and play music anyway.  That’s not too strenuous you know,” I smiled, “Besides, I just want to do something for you okay?”  I nodded.

            “Okay, but, can I come sit in there with you and talk?”  Paul looked up as if in thought.  I smiled and kissed his neck softly trying to convince him.

            “Yep, yep, you can,” he said smiling.  I grinned and he helped me over the back of the couch.  He grabbed my hand and I followed him into the kitchen sitting at the little dining table.

            “So what are you making then?”  I asked.

            “Oh, it’s still a surprise,” he said, “Did I tell you about the offer we got today?”

            “What offer?”

            “Apparently not,” Paul laughed, “We got offered $2.5 million minimum to tour the US again,” My eyes widened.

            “You’re kidding,”

            “Nope, serious. 

            “That’s a lot of money,” I said, “It wasn’t for each was it?” Paul laughed,

            “No, no.  It’s always a sum split between the four of us, and back in the day Brian,”

            “That’s still a lot of money,”

            “I know,” Paul responded, “But we turned it down,”

            “You did?” I asked somewhat surprised.  Money had always been something The Beatles loved—especially John and Paul.  In the olden days when they’d sit down to write they say things like, ‘Well, let’s write a new house today’, “I suppose it wouldn’t make sense,” I said and Paul shook his head and came and sat next to me at the table.

            “I think if it were a few months ago, I’d be into it.  At that time I was thinking that’s what we needed—you know, to start from the beginning again, but even I’m not into the idea.  It would just be awful,” he said, “Besides as far as the money goes,” he laughed, “I think we are all fine until the day we die,” I had to smile.

            “I think I agree with you,”

            “But it was interesting nevertheless.  You know, to know people still want us,” Paul said standing back up and walking over to the oven, “I’ve got more news,”

            “What’s that?”

            “You remember that song I wrote a while back, er, ‘Come and Get it’?  I think you may have been with me when I recorded it,”

            “Yeah, I remember—I like that song,”

            “Thanks, well, after recording it I figured I would give it to The Iveys—or Badfinger as they are now,”

            “Badfinger?” I asked not ever hearing of them.

            “Yeah, they are one of the bands we signed up for Apple,”

            “Oh, I see,”

            “Yeah, well, they released it as a single and it went to number one here in England—don’t think it’s hit the states yet,” he said.

            “Congratulations sweetheart,” I said and he beamed.

            “Thanks, but you should thank Bernard Webb,”

            “Did you really use that again?” I asked remembering his surnames.  He always picked stupid ones.  One time he went by Apollo.  He laughed.

            “No, I’m just joking.  People knew it was me before when I did that—no point in doing it again,”

            “Well that’s what I figured,” he nodded.

            “Yep, just written by Paul McCartney,”

            “I’m happy for you,” I said smiling, “You’re so talented—have I mentioned that before?” he smiled,

“You may have mentioned it,” I laughed and heard a bit of noise coming from the living room.  I stood up and walked over to find it was Mary crying through the monitor.

            “What’s up love?” Paul called peeking his head out of the kitchen.

            “Mary’s fussing; I’m going to go check on her.  She’s probably hungry,” I said walking into the kitchen.  Paul handed me her bottle and the Milk Formula, “Thanks,” I said and mixed up the milk for Mary sticking it in the microwave.  After heating it I made my way upstairs.    I set her bottle on the table and picked her up from her crib, her screams getting louder.  I turned off the monitor in the room so Paul didn’t have to hear it downstairs.  Mary didn’t want her food so all I could do is talk to her and bounce her gently.  I walked around the room trying to get her to fall back asleep, but she wouldn’t do anything but cry more.    I sat back on the bed taking her off my shoulder and holding her so she was facing me.  Her face was bright red—she was mad.  My heart raced as she began breathing less and less.  I didn’t know what was going on—she had never done this before, “Mary come on, shhh,” I said bouncing her again. 

            “Olivia?  Everything alright?” I heard Paul call from up the stairs.

            “Uhh,” is all I could say because I wasn’t sure.  Mary’s face was going from red to a bluish shade of purple.  I began to get scared.  All I could do was repeat her name and shush her.  It was in that instant that I noticed she wasn’t breathing, “Paul!” I screamed scared to death and almost crying, “Paul!” I yelled frantically, “Paul come up here!” I heard Paul run up the stairs and into the room out of breath,

“What?  What is it love?” he asked obviously worried.  He walked over to me ad saw Mary--his face almost going white.  I looked up at Paul tears in my eyes,

“Paul why isn’t she breathing?!!”

            “I-I don’t know,” he stuttered.

“I can’t get her to breath!” I said crying full blown now, “I don’t know what to do Paul!  Should we call someone?” I said walking over to the phone.  Paul held up his hand.

“Wait,” he blurted.

            “What?!” I asked freaking out.  He ran into the bathroom and I heard running water.  He ran back out and flicked his wet fingers to Mary’s face so water sprinkled on her.  She stopped making noise and just froze.

            “Uhh,” Paul stopped.

            “Paul, what did you do?” I asked just staring at Mary staring at me like a statue. Paul began to blow on what was now our blue little baby.  Mary blinked and took a big breath…the color returned to her face as she began breathing and just whimpering.  I sighed probably the biggest sigh I’ve ever done, “What happened?” I asked shaking.  Paul pulled me and Mary into his arms just holding us. 

            “It’s alright love, she’s breathing,” he said, shaking a bit himself.

            “Paul that was the scariest thing…” I said, and then looked up at him confused, “How did you know what to do?” I asked pulling from him a bit.  Mary seemed to calm down and just laid in my arms with her eyes closed—thankfully breathing like normal.

            “Well,” Paul began seeming ashamed, “I think I know where she got that from,”  

            “What?” I asked confused.

            “She’s probably having tummy problems like you said, and it was hurting her, making her mad,” he started,

“So, what does that have to do with her not breathing?”  I asked and Paul sighed.

“When I was a baby me dad told me when I used to get mad like that, I did the exact thing.  I used to just scream so loud and hold my breath,” he laughed slightly, “Me dad said he and me mum were so scared the first time I did it—I was all blue just like Mary and they couldn’t get me to breath.  Me mum being a nurse though figured it out and blew on me—then I stopped and breathed again,”  I just stared at him and he scrunched his nose, “Sorry—I didn’t know I was going to pass that on,”

            “Don’t apologize,” I said, “We got it figured out—but, if they blew on you to get you to stop….why did you splash water on her?” I asked and Paul laughed.

            “Because I couldn’t remember what it was they did,” he said turning a bit red, “You know me memory…once she stopped crying and froze like that I realized that was not the right thing and it just clicked ‘oh yeah they blew in me face!’,”

            “Oh I’m glad you remembered,” I said putting Mary asleep back in her crib.  I walked over to Paul having him take me in his arms again, “That scared me half to death.  I didn’t know what to do,”

            “It scared me too love,” Paul said kissing my head, “At least now we know what to do if she does it again,” I nodded.

            “Maybe I should take her in tomorrow,” I said.

            “For her stomach?”

            “Yeah, I think she’s really having problems and maybe they’ll be able to do something,” I said just standing in Paul arms feeling more tired than I had a few minutes ago.  Suddenly it clicked, “Paul what about dinner?” I asked pulling away, “Is it going to burn?”

            “Shh, it’s alright, it was done,” Paul said pulling me to him again, “Maybe we should save it and just relax in bed, aye?” he asked.  I looked up at him.

            “No, I’m hungry and you went through all that to make something,” I said and he smiled kissing my forehead.

            “I don’t mind packing it up in Tupperware and eating it later,” he suggested again, “You looked exhausted sweetheart,”

            “We won’t be able to eat it Paul because we are eating at your dad’s tomorrow,” I reminded him.

            “Oh yes, that’s right,” I nodded.

            “Let’s go eat, she should be okay,” I said turning the monitor in the room back on.  I leaned over and kissed her gently before leaving. We headed downstairs hand in hand and went for the dining room.  Paul had managed to get plates out and everything on the table.  I smiled and turned his head to me kissing him and stopping him dead in his tracks.

            “You’re wonderful, you know that?” I said and he smiled, “I don’t know what I’d do without you,”

            “Well, without me, you wouldn’t have a baby that likes to hold her breath,” he said smiling.  I laughed softly.

            “That’s true,” I said kissing him again, “But I love her anyway,”

            “I love you,” he said kissing me.  I smiled and Paul went to get our food.  He brought it out and I laughed.

            “Now I really love you,” I said seeing the Alfredo he made.  He smiled, “I was just thinking how good Alfredo would taste right now,” I said.

            “Well it is your favorite,” Paul said setting it down on the table.

            “Thank you so much,” I said kissing him quickly.  We sat down and had a nice peaceful dinner together.  Paul’s Alfredo was amazing.  We decided not to do the dishes that night and just rinsed them off.  Paul was beginning to feel the load of the day, ready for bed as was I.  We headed off and fell asleep in each others arms pretty quickly.  Mary was fine the whole night but woke up a bit early hungry.  I didn’t mind getting up early to feed her—as long as she didn’t hold her breath like that again.  I felt useless being her mother and not having a clue what to do—thank God for Paul.  I suppose it’s just another reason why I love him and need him.