Real Love: Chapter Nineteen
Real Love
Title: Chapter Nineteen
Authors: lovely_rita_mm & jenny_wren28
Starring: The Beatles (specifically John Lennon) and Maggie Sue
Rating: R for language, sex, & implied drug use.
Disclaimer: We don’t own any of the Beatles, this obviously never happened, and much to the real Maggie’s disappointment, is a complete work of fiction.
Sorry this one took a while, hopefully it will be worth it! I would give you a pithy chapter summary, but that would spoiling it, so you'll just have to read! Thanks again, you guys are awesome! Thanks for sticking with us!
Previous updates are located HERE.
Chapter 19
Maggie woke up with a start, odd visions of yellow submarines still circling in her head. She must have dreamed about them. Or perhaps it was just the music from her clock radio invading her dreams. Maggie reached over and shut it off, letting the fresh silence wash over her.
Lying back down, she stretched for a moment and then resigned herself to getting up. She sprang out of bed and then nearly tripped on a stuffed animal. It was a small woolly sheepdog. Maggie couldn’t remember where she had gotten it. And for a moment, she paused, puzzled. Was there something missing? She ran her hands over her body as if searching through pockets that weren’t there for something she was sure had been there before. Maggie peered at herself in the mirror over her dresser, but everything seemed normal. Same long wavy brown hair, same curvy body…
Maggie wandered out to her living room and flipped her flat-screen TV on to catch the weather report. It was summer, wasn’t it? And in Washington, DC, the summers were so hot. Suddenly a shiver overtook her. Maybe the air conditioning was up too high. And surely something was missing.
Food, she needed food. She got up and opened the fridge and then started to pull everything out of it. Something was missing. What was it?
Later, at work, she looked up from her Macbook, puzzled. Something felt off. But she was where she was supposed to be, at NASA, working on a paper related to her exoplanet research. Frowning, she turned her attention back to the LaTex program she was using to write her paper.
At lunch, her officemate suggested going for Indian food. As she took a bite of her favorite dish, butter chicken, she paused. What was it that felt so wrong? Nothing seemed to be out of place in her life, which was pretty much the same as it had always been.
At home, Maggie peered into the fridge again, looking for dinner and something else… Whatever it was, it wasn’t in the fridge.
She looked up then and saw her Beatles calendar hanging on the kitchen wall and gave a start. John. John was what was missing. She ripped the calendar down off the wall and frantically flipped through it. Every month read 2006. That was right, wasn’t it? No, it was wrong. It should be 1968. Shouldn’t it? Brown eyes from one of the photos caught hers and she gasped. John! John was missing. And… something else. Something else was missing.
Maggie suddenly fell to her knees gasping. It was hard to breathe. It was like her body was being squeezed. There was no air. Looking down at the ground she saw the calendar with John’s face floating in what looked like a pool of blood. She would have screamed if she hadn’t mercifully passed out.
* * *
“Maggie, Maggie, wake up!”
It was as if the voice was calling her from the other side of an abyss. As if she were lying beneath a few inches of water but was unable to break through to the surface. She waited to see if the voice would call again.
“Come on, luv, wake up. Don’t you want to meet your son?”
Son?
Maggie willed her eyes to open.
“That’s my girl.”
And then suddenly she knew the voice. “John?” she whispered, her voice weak and low.
“I’m right here. Luv, you gave us a scare.”
Slowly as Maggie came to, the pieces started falling back into place. She’d gone into labor, had gone into the hospital, and she vaguely remembered pushing and pushing and pushing and then feeling faint, and that was the last thing she remembered.
“What happened?” She tried moving her arm to reach for John. It felt heavy, but the movement was do-able. She felt John grip her hand.
“Complications. You lost a lot of blood and I was terrified we’d lose you. But you’re ok. And the baby is ok. It’s a boy, by the way.”
Suddenly it was as if Maggie’s head was magically cleared of the fog that had been there. “A boy? We have a son?”
“Yes, a son!” John smiled tentatively at her.
“And when can I see baby Ringo?”
A look of relief washed over John’s face and he gave a great guffaw.
“Why are you laughing, John?” she asked innocently.
“Luv, I’m so glad you’re all right that you can name him anything you want.”
“Good, because I have a real name all picked out.” Maggie had given the baby’s name a lot of thought. If it had been a girl, she would have suggested Julia, after John’s mum. If it was a boy… Maggie still felt guilty over Sean, the child that would never be born to John and Yoko (at least not if she could help it). But she didn’t want to take his name for her own child. It felt wrong somehow. Disrespectful. Finally she’d stumbled on the perfect name. She hoped John would like it too.
“As long as it’s not Mick,” John said, feigning nervousness.
“It’s not Mick,” she laughed feeling stronger by the second as did her relief at waking up back in her life in 1968. “Naming babies after their fathers is so cliché.”
“Luv, please tell me that this is the painkillers talking.” John shook his head at her, but the grin was still on his lips.
“All right, all right, I’ll be serious. We can’t name him after you since Julian is already technically John Jr. So I think we should name him after your best friend instead. James Paul.”
“James Paul Lennon.” John was quiet as he thought about it for a minute.
“I thought we could call him Jamie for short.”
“I like it.”
“I thought you might.”
John leaned over and kissed Maggie on the forehead and then on the lips. “Are you ready to meet wee Jamie?”
Was she ready to meet her son, a child that should have never been born, who almost cost Maggie her life, and who Maggie was starting to regard as something of a miracle? Yes, yes she was.
* * *
Jamie had been born in the last days of 1968. And Maggie was more than ready to start the new year. She wasn’t sure what was ahead - the possibility of the Beatles breaking up always seemed to loom heavily, but she was feeling positive nonetheless. 1969 lay pristine in front of them, ready to be written on. She had a brand-new family, there would be new music, and she would get to witness the moon landing in July. As someone who had worked at NASA and had a PhD in astrophysics, the Apollo 11 landing was something near and dear to her heart, even if she hadn’t been born until well after the Apollo program had wrapped up. This was her chance to see it first-hand. And her husband was famous. She might be able to finagle meeting some of the astronauts. Sure, there was still a war going on, and social change was slow, but 1969 was an exciting time to be alive.
“Knock, knock, is anyone home?” Paul called as he let himself, Linda, and little Heather into John and Maggie’s house. Linda looked ready to pop. She and Maggie had been due within a week of each other, so her baby would surely be here any day now. Maggie fully expected the baby to be a girl, and knew that the name Mary (after Paul’s mum’s) was also a safe bet.
“Come on in,” Maggie said. “John can you throw their coats in the spare room?” Her arms were full of a sleeping Jamie.
“Certainly. Come on, Macca, take it off.” John gave Paul one of his patented leers.
“You wish, Lennon.” Paul shoved his and Linda’s coats at John with a grin.
“Happy New Year,” Linda said to Maggie, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I’d give you a hug, but I don’t think my arms are long enough.” She looked down at her expansive stomach.
“Only for a little while longer. Come on, let’s get you off your feet,” Maggie said to Linda. She turned to Heather. “Julian is playing upstairs, why don’t you go find him?” The little girl nodded and then scampered away to find her playmate.
Maggie watched Linda ease herself down on to the couch.
“Do you want anything to eat or drink?”
“Sure, some tea?”
“Oh, I’ll get it, luv,” Paul said, cutting into the conversation. “You’ve got your hands full with my godson.” He paused to give Jamie a gentle kiss on the forehead before following John into the kitchen to brew some tea.
“Our men are so domestic. I love it.” Maggie smiled at Linda. “How did we get so lucky?”
Just then the door opened and Ringo poked his head in. “Anyone home?”
“Come on in, Ringo,” Maggie called out.
“Happy New Year, luv,” Ringo said. He waited until Maureen and their two boys were inside before closing the door against the cold winter air.
“Just throw your coats in the spare bedroom,” Maggie said. “John and Paul are in the kitchen making tea. George and Pattie should be here any minute. Hey, Zak,” Maggie addressed Ringo’s oldest son. “Jules and Heather are upstairs if you want to go play with them.”
Zak looked up at his mum and Mo nodded for him to go ahead. “Take your brother with you.” Zak looked slightly disgruntled at having to have his 2-year brother tag along, but he took Jason’s chubby hand and headed upstairs to find the other kids. Maureen shook her head and laughed at Zak’s expression.
“And how is our little Jamie today?” Mo joined Maggie and Linda on the couch. “Oh, he’s precious. Can I hold him for a bit?”
Maggie handed Jamie over just as the door opened a third time. George and Pattie stumbled shivering inside. “It’s cold out there!” Pattie said brightly. “Oh, baby!” she exclaimed and joined the other women clustered around Jamie. “Let me have a turn holding him!”
“I just got him,” Maureen protested. “Go take off your coat and then you can have him.”
Maggie looked over at George and they exchanged a look.
“Come on, luv. Tell me what you’ve been up to.” George threw his coat on a chair and then slung an arm around Maggie’s shoulder and walked her towards the kitchen. “Is changing nappies all it’s cracked up to be?”
“And more,” Maggie said only half-seriously.
“Well, maybe someday,” George said. “But for now I count myself as better off out of it.”
Maggie wasn’t sure what to reply to that. George would eventually have a child, assuming he was still on track to meet Olivia. But the subject of children where George and Pattie were concerned made her uncomfortable with secret knowledge, and she and was happy that the subject was dropped as soon as they reached the kitchen.
“I think the film could be really great,” Paul was saying.
“What film are we talking about?” George asked.
“The one we’re doing of the making of our next album.”
“Oh, right. That one.” George said flatly. He opened a cabinet and pulled out a tumbler and then poured himself a stiff helping of whiskey from the bar.
“Yeah. I think it’ll sort of let the fans into the process, you know?” Paul continued.
John nodded. “It’ll definitely be something different. I’ve got a bunch of things started, but I’d like to run them with you here before we start recording.”
“Sure, yeah,” Paul agreed.
“George, you’ve got a bunch of songs too, right?” Maggie said, trying to get George to open up.
“Yeah.” George said, before tipping back the drink.
Maggie gave Paul a meaningful look. They’d had a long conversation not long ago when Paul brought up the idea to her of doing a film of their next album. It was very hard for her to not give away too much, but she’d seen “Let It Be” and knew that a lot of the making of that album had not been very pretty. George and Paul had had at least one nasty fight on camera - and who knows how many off.
Speaking not only as a friend and a fan, but also as the head of Apple, Maggie had insisted that for the first time John, Paul, and George should each have an approximately equal number of songs on the album. It took some time to convince Paul that this was not meant as a quota, but more to give George’s songs to get some equal time with John and Paul’s. She knew he was capable of terrific things if they would only give him a chance.
Paul cleared his throat. “That’s great about the new songs, George. Listen, we were talking and we want to be sure that we put at least 3 of yours on this album. I know things haven’t always been balanced, but we all feel that you’ve really developed as a songwriter and we want you to be represented.”
George looked at Paul suspiciously, like Paul was just selling him a line.
“It’s in Apple’s best interest to have all our artists represented equitably.” Maggie said smoothly.
George moved his suspicious gaze onto Maggie. “That’s all well and good for you to say now…”
“We mean it George. We know you’ve been unhappy.” John put in.
“And you, Ringo? How many songs do you get?” George turned to Ringo.
Ringo shrugged. “I dunno. Maggie wants me to do one about Octopusses sometime, right?” he said dubiously.
“That goes on the album after this one.” Maggie corrected him and then smiled. “Sorry, spoilers!”
Just then three kids zoomed through the kitchen, the fourth toddling after them.
“No running in the house, you little buggers,” John yelled over the noise of the laughing kids. He scooped Julian up and held up upside down. “Oof, you are getting heavy, son! Not going to be able to do this much longer,” he said over Julian’s giggles. He gave Maggie a sort of wistful look. Julian was growing up so fast. But it brought a smile to Maggie’s face to see John and Julian having fun together.
Just then Jason, who was still trying to follow Heather and Zak, who were chasing each other through the living room, took a spill. Maureen ran to pick up him, followed by Pattie who was still fussing over Jamie.
The house was full of noise and people and confusion, but Maggie couldn’t remember when she’d been happier.
* * *
“How much longer ‘til midnight?” Pattie asked. The children were back upstairs and the adults were gathered around the TV with wine, cheese, and other snacks, watching The Fabulous Elvis on BBC2, and waiting for the new year.
“It’s only 9:30, so lots of time to go,” Maggie smiled. She kind of missed the modern US cheese-fest that was New Year’s Eve, with the ball dropping in Times Square. But watching the Beatles getting excited about an Elvis program was pretty fun too. Without an announcer counting down though, they had to actually consult a clock occasionally.
Paul picked up a stray piece of paper that had been sitting on top of a stack on the coffee table, and then burst out laughing. “Ha! This is George’s Hell Angels memo!”
“Let me see!” Linda said, leaning over as best as she could to see the paper Paul was holding.
“Oh, just read it aloud!” Mo called out.
“You do the honors, George,” Paul said, sailing the paper over to his bandmate.
“I’ll have you know this is a perfectly reasonable memo,” George said, slightly miffed.
“George,” Maggie said, trying to keep a straight face. “You know I love you, but you invited the HELLS ANGELS to hang out at Apple! Without even asking me! Or the others!”
“So?”
“The HELLS ANGELS!”
“Read it! Read the memo, you wanker!” John heckled.
“Fine.” George cleared his throat dramatically and then used his best posh tone of voice. “Hell's Angels will be in London within the next week, on the way to straighten out Czechoslovakia. There will be twelve in number complete with black leather jackets and motor cycles. They will undoubtedly arrive at Apple and I have heard they may try to make full use of Apple's facilities. They may look as though they are going to do you in but are very straight and do good things, so don't fear them or up-tight them. Try to assist them without neglecting your Apple business and without letting them take control of Savile Row.”
The whole group was in stiches by the time he got to the end of it.
“They may look as though they are going to do you in,” Maggie cried with laughter.
“Don’t uptight them?” Linda tried her best to stifle her giggle.
“Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time,” George said, still defensive.
Maggie turned and gave him an incredulous look.
“Ok, ok, maybe it wasn’t.”
“We’re still still trying to get the building cleaned up!” Maggie exclaimed, tossing a pillow George.
“Oh, look, Elvis is on.” George said, pointing to the TV. He turned the volume up in an attempt to drown out the remaining giggles and then tucked the pillow behind his shoulder.
“Shush, you’re going to wake, Jamie,” Pattie said, gently swatting George’s arm. She still had claim on the baby.
“Oh, it’s all right,” John said. “He sleeps through anything.”
After the Elvis program ended, everyone got up to stretch. Mo and Ringo went to check on the kids upstairs, Linda sheepishly vanished into the bathroom again, Pattie walked Jamie around the house cooing (which made Maggie’s heart hurt), and John and Paul disappeared into the music room.
That left Maggie and George. “Come on, let’s go make some fresh tea,” Maggie said, as George looked forlornly in the direction of the music room. “Let Lennon/McCartney do their thing.”
“Their thing where they hog all the A-sides?”
“Hey, I meant what I said earlier. I want you to have equal representation on the next album.” Maggie sat on one of the kitchen stools and let George take over the kettle. “I think the White Album was a step in the right direction, but it was a double album. I really think…”
“I don’t need charity,” George interrupted Maggie stiffly.
“It’s not charity, George. It’s getting John and Paul to treat you like an equal partner, rather than as their 15-year-old little brother. If the Beatles are going to go on, it’s going to require a paradigm shift. And… and…”
“And you don’t want your favorite band to break up.” George said, softening.
“Of course not. Not when you all have so much more you could do together.”
“Tell me honestly, Maggie. How many albums do we have left? That you know about?”
“I can’t…”
“Bollocks. You told me I’d die of cancer if I didn’t stop smoking. You can’t tell me what the lifetime of my band is going to be?”
Maggie sighed unhappily. “Two more. The next one will really rip you guys apart and none of you will be happy with it. It’ll get shelved for a while and released in 1970 as your last album. The one that comes after this one…”
“The one with the octopus song?”
“Yeah, that one.” Maggie gave a smile. “That album is going to be absolutely iconic. And I promise you that one of the best and most famous songs on it is yours. It’s going to be amazing and you can’t not do that album. Beyond that? It’s up to you guys now. But I know, I feel, in my heart of hearts that the Beatles don’t have to break up.”
“So do I go down in history as the guy who broke up the Beatles then?” George asked.
“You know, funnily enough, no.” Maggie was thoughtful. “Most people blame Yoko. Realistically, she wasn’t really the sole cause, but she didn’t help things. She got between John and Paul. And then Alan Klein got between John and Paul.”
“The Stones’ manager?”
“Yeah. Paul wanted Lee Eastman to manage you guys, the rest of you wanted Alan. And Paul eventually sued the band to legally separate his finances.”
“Paul sued us? What a wanker.” George set the kettle down hard on the stove.
“Yeah, except that Paul was right. Alan destroyed Apple and stole your money, and that was pretty much that. Until much later.”
“How could you not tell me any of this?”
“George, it’s pretty hard to know what to keep for myself. You guys have to be free to make your own decisions…”
“Again, bollocks. You’ve interfered plenty, and it’s worked out pretty well.”
“Not all of the time.” Maggie shook her head. “I didn’t save Brian.”
“But you tried.”
“And failed.”
“And so your next mission is to save the Beatles?”
“If I can.”
“Well, Yoko should be out of your hair at least,” George said. “And since we have you and we don’t tour anymore, the management discussion hasn’t even really been an issue.”
“Which is why I want you to be happy,” Maggie said with a sigh. “I don’t want you to leave the Beatles, but I also don’t want you to be creatively stifled.”
“Well, I’m not through with the band yet,” George finished pouring out fresh cups of tea. “Let’s just see how it goes. And just let it be for now.”
“Sure,” Maggie said with a shrug. “Let it be.” If only George really knew what he was asking.
George and Maggie carried cups of tea out to the living room, and Maggie nearly dropped hers when the door opened with a crash.
“Happy New Year!” Mick Jagger stood in the doorway, letting a blast of cold air into the room. “Isn’t anyone going to invite me in?”
“Come in, you great oaf, you’re letting the heat out!” Maggie exclaimed.
“That’s the spirit,” Mick said. “Speaking of, I brought champagne.”
“What are you even doing here?” Maggie said.
“I’ve come to see the baby, of course. I’m on my way to another party, but I thought I would stop in first. To see the baby.” Mick set the champagne down on the coffee table and ambled over to Pattie.
“May I?” Mick looked over at Maggie.
“Yes, if you wash your hands first.”
Mick meekly rinsed his hands in the bathroom and then gently cradled Jamie in his arms. “He’s beautiful. Didn’t know you had it in you, Lennon,” he called to John. And then in a stage whisper, he said to Maggie, “Don’t worry, our little secret is safe with me!” and gave her a wink.
“You wish, Mick,” Maggie said, shaking her head and reclaiming Jamie.
“I do, luv, I do. Let me know when you get tired of Lennon here. We’ll talk.” Mick gave her another wink.
“You do know that baby is named James Paul, not Mick, right?” Paul broke in.
“Not helpful, Paul,” Maggie said.
“Oh, so it’s Paul’s is it? Looks like he’s been busy!” Mick said, giving the very pregnant Linda a leer.
“Oh, just get out,” Maggie pushed Mick gently towards the door with her free hand.
“All right, luv. Here’s a little something for the wee lad.” Mick handed Maggie a small parcel. “I’m off! Happy New Year!”
A chorus of Happy New Year’s echoed through the room and out the door into the cold night.
“What’s in the package?” Pattie asked. She took Jamie back to allow Maggie to open the gift. Inside was a tiny baby rattle shaped like a guitar.
“I hope our son has musical talent…” Maggie said, shaking the rattle. “With his friends and family he’s going to have no choice but to be a musician.”
Just then, Jamie woke and let out a loud cry.
“I’m pretty sure he’s got the lungs for it,” George said.
Linda accompanied Maggie upstairs to change the baby.
“So, out of curiosity… Do any of the Beatles kids become musicians?” Linda asked, watching as Maggie lay Jamie down on the changing table and grabbed a fresh diaper.
“Oh yeah,” Maggie replied. She was spouting off spoilers left and right, why stop now? “All of the Beatles have at least one kid who is a musician. Zak, of course, will be a drummer. Quite a well-regarded one too. Julian puts out some albums and he does really well in the 80s especially. And he sounds just like his dad when he sings. Which I’m hoping won’t be quite as heart-breaking this time out since we intend on keeping John safe and sound. And…” Maggie purposely skipped over Sean Lennon. “And… I probably shouldn’t tell you, but you’ll have a son someday. He plays guitar, though he hasn’t really started a musical career yet, as such. But he probably will. Your girls don’t end up being musicians, though I have to say it would be nice if at least one of the Beatles’ daughters did.”
“What about George?”
“What about George?” Maggie asked, busying herself with making faces at the baby.
“I saw the way you looked at Pattie, especially when she was carrying Jamie around.”
“You can’t tell…” Maggie said, looking around to make sure no one else was eavesdropping. “I shouldn’t even really…”
“I promise I won’t say a word.”
“All right, well George has a son, but it won’t be with Pattie. Pattie isn’t going to be able to have children despite all her efforts.”
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that Pattie and George eventually split up?”
“Probably not. But you’ll be shocked and amazed at the way it goes down. If it goes down the same way this time.”
Linda was quiet as she absorbed that piece of information. Maggie was grateful when Linda let that line of questioning go, at least for now.
“And George’s son?”
“He’s a musician too.”
“And little Jamie?” Linda smiled at Maggie.
“He’s got no choice,” Maggie said, picking him up and kissing his nose. “He’s got big shoes to fill.” For both John and Sean.
“Come down, it’s nearly midnight,” John yelled up the stairs.
“We’ll be right there!” Maggie called back. She poked her head into Julian’s room. “Come on, kids, it’s not long ‘til midnight!”
Maggie, Linda, and the five Beatle children made their way down to the warm, bright living room. There really was no better place to be, Maggie thought to herself, than ringing in a New Year with people you love.
~~~~~~~~~~~
The End of Part II? Are we up to Part II or III?
ETA: We seem to be stalled here. With real life being what it is, I'm not exactly sure when more will be written. But at least this is a decent stopping place and we haven't left you hanging. Expect us when you see us!
Just a few items of interest now:
I found this online - it's the actual TV schedule from December 31, 1968!
And here is George's actual Hells Angels memo. Seriously George, wat?
And lastly, man, those Beatle kids really do look like their dads...
http://johnheartpaullovers.tumblr.com/post/58989596848/johnlennonxx-damn-this-is-blowing-my-mind
Thanks as always for reading!
Want your own bound and printed copy of Yes It Is (and associated short stories) and Tomorrow Never Knows? You can get them from Lulu.com. You can also download a .pdf from Lulu for FREE!!
http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/lovely_rita_mm