Chapter Thirty-Eight: I've Seen it on Donna and John a Few Times (This Week!)

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April 18, 1964

"What's that?" John climbed into the car next to me, looking curiously at a letter on top of all the mail he'd pulled out of the letterbox.

"I don't have a clue," he said. "But it's addressed to me."

I kept a close eye on it as he opened it and widened his eyes. Now I was intrigued.

He began to read aloud, in a comically high-pitched voice, as we pulled out onto the road. I reached over and turned down the radio. "Dear Mr. John Lennon," he began, smiling at me coyly. "It is with great pleasure, upon the success of your new novel—." He snorted. "It's a novel, Donna," he quipped.

"Keep reading," I insisted, laughing.

"Oh, right," he said. "—That we invite you, and whoever you'd like to bring along, to a Foyle's literary luncheon on the twenty-third of April." He looked at me, a concerned look on his face. "A literary lunch," he said skeptically. "That sounds a bit scary." He cracked another grin.

"Well," I said. "If you don't want to go, I'd suggest you don't show Brian."

He laughed. "Sounds like a positively thrilling little thing, doesn't it?"

I nodded. "It sure does."

He continued to look over the letter. "The twenty-third," he said. "That's pretty soon."

"Eh," I said dismissively. "We can make it work."

"I guess we can," he replied.

"I feel like a famous person," he said teasingly, leaning back against the seat.

I looked at him outlandishly. "Oh, yes, I'm sure you do."

~~~

"Literary luncheon!" John said to Brian.

Brian looked at him skeptically. "And you actually want to go?"

John bobbed his head. "Of course I do!"

Brian nodded, smiling. "That's what I always want to hear!" he said excitedly. "Well have to get you off set early that day. I'll discuss it with everyone, but I'm sure it can be done."

"Ah, yes," he said. "Literary lunch! That lunch!"

I shook my head at him, laughing.

"Now, get out there," said Brian. "We've got to get started."

"Aww, Eppy, I don't wanna!"

"John, get out there right now," Brian snapped and John laughed like a little child, running off towards the group of people gathered in the center of the room.

"You should teach him how to behave, Donna," Brian quipped when he'd left.

"Maybe I should," I responded, laughing. "You need anything, Bri?"

"A coffee would be good," he said with a smile.

"Coming right up!" I scurried out of the room.

~~~

"What's this thing called again?" asked George timidly from my backseat.

"Around the Beatles," responded John for the hundredth time. "You really gotta listen, Geo," he said.

"I'm sorry," he said. "My head is elsewhere."

John peeked at him curiously through the mirror. "Where's it at, then?" he implored.

"Is that a blush?" I heard Paul remark from directly behind me. I stole a quick look back in the mirror and saw George looking down at his lap, Ringo and Paul looking at him amusedly.

"Where's your mind, Harrison?" asked John again tormentedly, turning around to properly face him.

"Not here," he said quietly.

Paul lifted his head up so he could see his face. "C'mon, George," he taunted. "Tell us."

I felt bad for George, really.

"I'm just—," George stammered, blushing like mad. "I'm just thinking about Pattie is all," he said and the others laughed.

"How far've you made it, Geo?" asked John mockingly. I gave him a warning glance. He shrugged.

"All the way," said Paul for him. "I know that look when I see it. I've seen it on Donna and John quite a few times...this week!" I shot him a look of mock disgust.

Poor George looked humiliated. "Shuddup, Paul," he blubbered.

"Nuh-uh!" said John. "You've done it to all of us. It's your turn, Georgie!"

I felt like melting away on behalf of George. "How long're we going to be here tonight, Donna?" George asked in attempt to change the subject.

"Until ten," I responded.

"Okay, then," he said, looking back down.

"Aww, we're so proud of you, Hassa!" said Ringo.

"Did you tell her about Tahiti?" asked John with a little wink.

"Of course I did," he muttered. "She's very excited."

"Where is it you two are going?" John asked Paul and Ringo."

"The Virgin Islands," said Paul, leaning back in the seat and folding his hands behind his head.

"That's ironic," George mumbled ruthlessly.

John let out a low whistle. "Geo, you're stealing my thunder now," he remarked.

George shrugged, still not looking up to meet anyone's eye.

"Did we embarrass ye, Geo?" asked Ringo.

"We sincerely apologize," added John.

"Don't say anything to Pattie," he said quietly. "I don't care if you go on about it to me. Just not to her."

"We wouldn't do that, George, don't worry," said Paul. "We keep it between us."

"You did it to me!" I said, looking in the mirror expectantly.

"Well, Donna, you basically are one of us," reasoned Paul.

"He's got a fair point, love," said John.

I shrugged. "I suppose so."

The road we were on was deserted, so I decided to do something rash to scare them. Without warning, I veered sharply to the right, into the parking lot of the studio we were going to.

Not expecting the turn, the boys hadn't had time to brace themselves, and they all went tumbling onto one another.

"Epstein!" shrieked the four boys in unison. When I'd pulled into a spot, I broke into a fit of maniacal laughter.

"Now, out of my car!" I yelled in between laughs. "You've got to be in there in less than five minutes."

That got them moving. They hopped out of the car and raced back to the trunk to retrieve their instruments. I followed them inside. Brian sighed in relief when we walked in.

I zoned out the scolding I knew I was getting for cutting it so close. I didn't try to defend myself. I just focused on myself for a moment, happy that I was where I was, and in turn, happy that I wasn't anywhere else but here.

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