FicWad

The boys thoroughly enjoyed Chinatown and the Flatiron building, and Ellis Island, but they refused to eat the Chinese food and Ringo was worried about the street vendor food.

“Aw, suck it up, Ritchie,” Paul groaned.

Ringo’s face fell and my heart went out to him. “Don’t worry Rings; I’ll cook you a special dinner at my place.”

He cheered up noticeably, and Paul, John, and George looked shocked.

“I hate street food,” George said immediately.

“Me too,” John jumped in. “Honest!”

Paul looked dreadfully embarrassed, and I enjoyed this immensely. For once, I was the one to make him blush.

“Right then. We’ll just go to my place for dinner,” I smiled, but I was inwardly trying to figure out what on earth I was going to cook for them. “Are any of you vegetarians?”

“Nope,” all four of them chorused.

Good. That kept my options open. I left them at the hotel and told them to come to my place in a couple of hours. I gave them my address and walked home with Harold.
I walked into my apartment in excellent spirits. “Lucy, I hope you went grocery shopping, because we have lots of company tonight!”
Lucy was not cheerful looking. In fact, she looked rather down.

“What’s the matter, Luce?” I dropped Harold’s leash and he started sniffing my furniture. I tried not to notice.

“It’s Joseph. He says such horrible things about you, you know,” she commented.

“And I do the same to him,” I reminded her.

Her eyes narrowed. “Maybe that was the reason he just dumped me over the phone. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Lu-cy!” I snapped. “You can’t seriously be blaming your love troubles on me!”

The fire in Lucy’s eyes was suddenly put out and she sunk back into her seat. “Yeah. Guess not. And sorry, I haven’t really been up for grocery shopping.”

“Shit!” I groaned, racing to the fridge. We had...exactly three ears of corn, two apples, some lettuce, carrots, cucumber, and one onion. There was some marinated chicken from a few nights ago (I cook when I’m bored) so with a grin I took that out and went to salvage some potatoes.

In thirty minutes, the chicken was roasting in the oven, and I was mashing the potatoes with butter and milk. Lucy moped around, watching TV in her pyjamas.

In another hour, dinner was simply simmering to keep warm, and I went for a quick shower and pulled on jeans and a nice top. Lucy, on the other hand, remained a mess.

I jumped onto the couch with her. “Come on, Lucy. It’s just a boy. You can bounce back tonight!”

She looked at me as if I were psychotic. “Why tonight?”

I smiled mysteriously. “I’ve got some special guests coming over for dinner.”

“I don’t care, Alice. I really don’t. Joseph and I clicked, you know? And I know you always said he was an arrogant asshole, but he was lovely to me...and he was so good in bed!” She moaned, pulling the blanket over her head.

I rolled my eyes. “There are plenty of boys out there who are good in bed; I promise you. But for now, you need to clean yourself up. Now.”

Lucy trudged over to the bathroom and took a shower grudgingly. She emerged in a nice skirt and top. Her blonde hair was down and floating around her face. Even when she was miserable, Lucy managed to look amazing.

At seven fifty, the buzzer sounded and I bounded over to the door to let them in. When they did arrive, I heard them out in the hall.

“Hurry up, Johnny!”

“Stop telling me that!”

“We wouldn’t have to, only you’re slow as hell!”

“Sod off, Paul!”

“Knock on the door, Ritchie.”

He did, and I rushed to answer it. “Hello!” I said brightly.

The boys filed in, examining my place closely. “Alice!” John cried, hugging me tightly. I hugged him back awkwardly.

“You saw me not even two hours ago, you nit!” I laughed.

“Was that all it was? It seemed like AGES with this lot,” he pointed to his friends.

“It smells heavenly in here,” George remarked, venturing towards my kitchen.

I smiled proudly. “It’s roast chicken. Is that alright?”

The boys cheered at the thought. “You made so much!” Ringo gaped.

I shrugged. “I love leftovers. Hang on a second. LUCY!” I yelled.
Lucy emerged from her room, rubbing her eyes, and pulling her skirt down. She let out a little yelp when she saw my company.

“Oh my god. Alice. You fucking kidnapped the Beatles!” she wailed in dismay.

We all chuckled at her reaction. “This is my roommate, Lucy,” I introduced. “Lucy, this is John, Ringo, George, and Paul.”

Her eyes were shiny and wide as she gawked at them in shock. I giggled. “Come on, I’ll set the table. John, would you grab those napkins, please?”

John obliged and in a few seconds, the table was set. It irked me that the eight person table was filled only with six, but I simply removed the two end seats and moved them aside. As we were about to dig in, someone else appeared to be at the door?

“Who is it?” I spoke into the intercom.

“It’s Mick Jagger,” a sarcastic voice spoke into the speaker.

I paled, and buzzed him up immediately. Lucy was about to faint, I could tell. “Is it really?”

I snorted. “No, it’s Dad. I completely forgot about our dinner!”

“It’s just yer dad,” Ritchie pointed out. “And it’s not as if you haven’t got enough food.”

John nodded in agreement. “He’ll just join in on the fun. It’ll be fine, love.”

George smiled at me reassuringly. “Yeah. I’m sure he’ll have plenty of embarrassing stories about you.”

I grinned. “Okay then. Dad dines with us.”

My dad was rather shocked to see four boys in my apartment, but I don’t think he really knew who they were, so he happily sat and exchanged stories with them. He teased the lads about their Limey accents, and the lads mocked Dad’s Nottinghamshire tongue.

Paul and Lucy seemed to get on smashingly. I watched Paul become infatuated with Lucy’s good looks, and Lucy was drawn in by the McCartney charm. I tried not to be jealous.

“You don’t support Everton, do you?” my dad’s nose wrinkled.

John laughed. “Absolutely!”

“Ugh, I’d have thought better of you lads,” my dad sighed in disappointment.

“And what’s your team, then?” George wanted to know.

“Leeds United!” My dad said proudly.

The three Beatles burst into hysterical laughter. “Yeh can’t be serious!” Ringo gasped.

“Watch it, you Limey kids. I could thump you any day!” But my dad was grinning. He hadn’t had this much fun in years!

I watched with a permanent smile on my face as the evening went on. I hardly said anything. In fact, I was having a rather peculiar sensation. It was as if I were watching the evening without actually being there.

At ten-thirty, my dad left, since he was an early sleeper. The boys (minus Paul) walked him to the door and clapped him on the back in a friendly manner.
The lads left shortly after. I saw Paul kissing Lucy by the door. Averting my eyes, I hugged the other three with a grin on my face.

“Thanks for coming,” I told George.

“Thanks for askin’,” George replied, kissing my forehead lightly.

Ritchie’s hug was as friendly as he was, and I was struck by his loveable nature. I kissed him on the cheek.

John’s hug was long and teasing. “Dinner was great, love.”

“Thanks for liking my dad,” I smiled at the handsome Beatle.

He grinned wider. “Yer dad’s a riot, he is. Nah, he’s a nice bloke. I’ll send him a Christmas card. Will we see you tomorrow?”

I shrugged. “If you like. Call me in the afternoon, alright? I have some sleep to catch up on.”
John kissed my hand jokingly and walked out of the apartment with another cheeky smile.

I waved to Paul, who waved back. I shut the door behind him. Lucy immediately hugged me tightly.

“Thank you Alice, for setting up my date with a Beatle!” She squealed.

My smile faltered. “Well, it wasn’t really a date...we were all here with you.”

“Oh, but it seemed as if it were just us! He’s so lovely. Did you see us kissing? He’s a marvelous kisser too! Oh, and I thought I was sad about Joseph! I never realized what I was missing!” Lucy sighed, diamonds in her eyes.

I bit my lip. What was I doing? I barely even knew Paul, what did it matter that he was making out with my best friend just minutes ago?

“Lucy, he goes home to England soon, remember,” I reminded her.

“Oh don’t worry, Alice. It’s just a fling. I know. But I’ll make it last as long as I can!”

With that, Lucy strode off into her bedroom and I was left to clean the dishes. Again.
The next morning, Lucy was back to her normal self. Talkative, cheerful, and infatuated. She was playing Beatle songs all day, singing along and swooning at her own good luck.

“Do you have plans today?” I asked conversationally at around twelve as I fixed myself a chicken sandwich.

“I’m meeting up with Paul McCartney,” she giggled.

I rolled my eyes in annoyance. “You don’t have to tack on the ‘McCartney’ part. I know who it is.”

“I am still so surprised. I owe you a million favours or something!” Lucy exclaimed as she applied pink lipstick in front of the mirror.

I sighed. “I’m very happy for you and your fling. Trust me.”

Lucy grinned goofily and proceeded to preen in front of the mirror, singing loudly to “I Saw Her Standing There.”

I barely heard the phone ring over the din. “Hello?” I managed to hear myself say.

“Is this Alice?” the familiar voice asked.

I smiled lightly. “Hi, George. You alright?”

“Just fine thanks. Is that our music I can hear in the background?” He sounded amused.

“Yeah, just hang on a minute, will you?” I pulled the receiver from my ear. “Lucy! Turn down
the volume!”

Lucy obliged with a pout, and returned to her own reflection.

“Right, what were you saying, George?” I asked, finally able to hear myself think.

George laughed. “We tried to call later this time.”

“Yes, that’s much appreciated.”

I heard a shout and some scuffling. “Hello? John Lennon here.”

“Sorry, I think you have the wrong number,” I teased, flopping down onto the settee.

I heard John laugh. “Right, where shall we meet today, love?”

“Um...shall we say an afternoon in Central Park?” I suggested.

“Gear, shall we meet at your special bench?” He pressed.

I considered. “Do you know how to get there?”

“Absolutely!” John sounded fairly confident.

I shrugged. “Alright, I’ll meet you, George and Ringo there at about one o’clock.”

“What, is Paul not invited?”

I froze, not realizing I had subconsciously excluded him. “I just assumed he would be out.”

“With whom?”

“Well...Lucy,” I whispered, so as not to attract Lucy’s attention.

John sounded entertained. “Ah. Your blonde friend. I hadn’t realized they were going to be
having mad, passionate sex all day.”

I blushed, even though John wasn’t even here. “Yes, well, they may very well be. So it’ll just be the four of us.”

“Alright then, Alice. We’ll meet you in wonderland. Ta, love.”

I heard the receiver click, and I hung up the phone.

Glancing at the clock, I registered that it was only quarter past twelve. I packed a basket full of fruit, biscuits, pretzels, bread and butter, and lemonade for the picnic in the park. I took Pride and Prejudice with me as well. After all, I would have over half an hour to kill once I got there. As an afterthought, I brought a blanket to keep me warm and then I set off, not bothering to say bye to Lucy.

Central Park was always the same. I liked dependable things, things that would always be there, unchanging. They offered me solace from the confusion and drama of real life. This time, I felt a little guilty for taking another day off of work for some boys I barely knew anything about. I resolved to go back the next day. My bench was empty; it always was. I sat down comfortably and started reading. I was lost in Jane Austen’s world until Ringo’s gentle hand touched my shoulder lightly.

“Oh!” I exclaimed; feeling rather flustered as the three boys looked at me. Ringo looked understanding, George amused, and John’s face portrayed nothing but amazement.

“Anything good in there?” John tapped the book cover with a cheerful grin.

“Oh yes,” I declared. “It’s an excellent book, no matter how many times I read it.”

George’s eyebrows rose into his hair. “You read books more than once?”

I laughed. “Yes, don’t you?”

“Not if I can help it,” he joked, sitting next to me easily.

Ritchie smiled. “Books are good for you. They educate and amuse you.”

“Girls can do the same. And they cost less!” John mocked, tugging at the blanket that covered my basket.

He spread it onto the grass and lay down in a rather relaxed manner. Ringo immediately joined him. George and I exchanged looks and shrugged. I picked up the basket and sat comfortably on the blanket and contemplated lying down, but there wasn’t much room left.

“Lie down, Alice,” John insisted.

“There’s no room with you and your fat arse,” I teased.

John pretended to be offended. “Oh heavens! I shan’t eat a thing again!”

I laughed and shook my head. “You’re crazy. All of you.”

They cheered in unison. I opened the basket and offered everyone food. It was as if we were in our own little world. We ate, laughed, and then lay down, overlapping each other. My hand barely touched John’s elbow, and my ankles were tangled with George’s legs. Ringo’s and my hair mixed; my dark hair with his relatively light one. I think we were quiet for the most part. We just looked at the sky and daydreamed.

I think they felt happy. I thought I did too. But the thought of Paul out with Lucy soured me up again and I reached for another biscuit to sweeten myself up a bit.

“I don’t want to leave New York,” John said decidedly after the food had finished.

“Not like you’ve got a choice, mate,” Ritchie said solemnly.

John looked frustrated. “Yes, I know. But I don’t want to go!”

George looked at his friend sympathetically. I could tell he wasn’t in total agreement though. He was a green, English countryman. I knew he was. And Ringo? He was a sunshine person. Anywhere with sunshine, he would be happy.

“This won’t be your last trip to New York, John,” I promised him.

“I know,” he agreed. This seemed to console him for the time being.

“It’s nice isn’t it?” I smiled at my new friends.

“What is?” John yawned.

“To be just plain old John, George, and Ritchie again.”

All three of them looked at me. “It is,” Ringo agreed.

“It really is.” A smile spread across George and John’s faces.

I smiled too and decided that even though our little world only existed for hours, Jane Austen’s had nothing on it.