In Your Atmosphere (Paul McCartney/Beatles Fanfiction)

Chapter 44 - And In the End

Oh yeah, all right

Are you going to be in my dreams

Tonight?

And in the end

The love you take

Is equal to the love

You make

Marisol smiled as she looked around the dining room table, happier than she'd been in years. Her entire family, along with her best friend Donna, were all here for Melody's first birthday. The only thing missing was Paul. At least Melody was too young to remember her father missing her first birthday.

Paul had already visited California twice since they'd reconnected in February, and Marisol and Melody had returned twice to London. They had seen each other every two weeks and their relationship had never been better, but now they were gearing up for a rough summer. Next week the Beatles would begin another massive world tour. Three months on the road with barely any time off.

"There's one more present for the two of you, dear," Marisol's mother said. "Jack, bring in your daughter's early birthday gift."

"The big one?"

Her mother arched a brow and pointed at the doorway to the living room. "You know the one."

"Is it a horse?" Lucy asked, her face brightening.

"Lord, I hope not," Mrs. Hemingway said. "We've trotted down that road enough times already."

"I want a horse for my birthday," Lucy said, clapping her hands.

"Our birthday," Sophie said. "Two horses."

Marisol smiled innocently at Nick and Margo in turn. "If your parents really love you maybe they'll let you have all three horses out in the barn for your birthday."

Lucy clapped and squealed. "Really daddy?"

"You are the devil's child," Margo said to her sister, taking a swig of wine.

"I resent that remark," their mother said.

"That's not happening, Luce," Nick said with a frown. "Maybe when you're older."

"Keep working on them," Marisol stage whispered to her niece. "And get your sister to nag at them too. That's how we always got what we wanted."

"Nice," Margo said. "I'll remember this in a few years when Melody is their age."

Marisol's father returned with a large, flat, square package wrapped in brown paper, clearly some sort of artwork. He laid it in the middle of the table in front of Marisol.

"Oh my goodness, what is this?" Marisol reached for the paper.

"Just a minute, Jack." Her mother reached over and stopped Marisol's hand. "This isn't the one. I meant the BIGGER gift. The one for both Marisol and the baby."

"What?" Marisol eyed her mother. "If you guys got Melody a horse, I swear I'll--"

Mrs. Hemingway scoffed. "I certainly didn't get either of you some sort of animal I'll end up caring for in my old age."

Mr. Hemingway stood by the door. "Now which gift are you talking about, Laura?"

"Oh go on, Jack, stop acting silly and get it."

Marisol's father gave her a wink and left the room.

One-year-old Melody stared after her grandfather, crestfallen. Any time her beloved Papa left the room she looked as though her heart would break. She had the most expressive brown eyes. And those perfect dark eyebrows. She looked more like her daddy every minute. Marisol watched her daughter, her heart filling with pride.