⇾ 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐈'𝐌 𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐃 | 𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐥 𝐌𝐜𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐈𝐈

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚 ➪ 𝘼𝙣 𝙀𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙚

ꕥ February 10, 1969 ꕥ

I picked Mary carefully up off the hotel bed and held her close to me. This was the final stretch of our journey to Scotland and I was hoping she would sleep through it.

It had taken us ages the night before to find a hotel that would let Martha stay with us, but we had in the end, so we didn't care how small and dingy it was. As long as it had a bloody bed we could sleep in. Driving was long, tedious, and tiring. Paul and I had been taking turns behind the wheel. When one would get bored, we'd stop for a while, look around wherever we had landed, and then get back in, the opposite driving.

Mary had quickly forgiven Martha for her destruction of Holly after she realized that Martha was her best friend and she didn't want to live in a world where she ignored her best friend. Holly was clutched in Mary's arms as she slept. Mary had insisted we sew her up with white thread so that you could really see that she had been attacked and had been strong enough to survive. Her beady eyes had been replaced with two small, blue buttons stitched in with black thread to act as pupils. All in all, Holly was looking great after her brutal attack.

We closed the hotel room door behind us as we left and made our way to the front desk to turn in the key. Paul opened the door for me so that I could step through and carry Mary gently to the car. It was a wonder she hadn't woken up yet. Paul then opened the car door for me, Martha climbed in and took her seat next to Mary's car seat, and I situated Mary in her seat, buckling her up tight. I closed the door and turned to Paul, who was now smoking a cigarette.

"Should we get some breakfast?" he asked me.

I looked in at our sleeping daughter. Did we want to wake her up?

"Let's get some donuts," I suggested. "That way as soon as she wakes up and starts whining about food we can give that to her and she'll be happy again!"

Paul grinned. "Sounds like a plan," he said, taking one last puff of his cigarette before stomping it out on the concrete. "Let us go, then."

"Are you driving first?" I asked him.

He rolled his eyes. "You started yesterday, so I suppose it is my turn."

ꕥ ꕥ ꕥ

"Are we there yet?"

"Almost," I answered Mary. I had been asked the question about eight hundred times in the past five minutes. We were due to be at the farm any minute now, so we were all getting quite restless.

"How about now?"

I had opened my mouth to say no again but then noticed that the car had stopped.

"We're here!" Paul sang.

Maureen and Ringo had babysat Mary for us the last time we had come up here. We had come to begin fixing the place up. After Brian's death, a failed Beatles movie, and a long-ass album, we needed a bloody break. We needed a place to escape to whenever we needed it, and our mind always came back to here in Scotland. Something about the atmosphere just made it feel so homey to us.

We had laid concrete down in the kitchen, hauled a king-sized bed up here, found some furniture, and bought some utensils. We had packed the car full of food this time to keep us satisfied during our month-long stay where we were fully ready to continue our renovation. The house was a good size, and there was so much we could do with it. We just needed to actually commit to it for once. Hopefully, that would be this time. We had a huge trailer attached to the back of the car, full of hardwood flooring we had bought back in London.

We didn't have a fucking clue how to put it in, but God knows we were going to try everything we could to figure it out. Paul put the car into park and climbed out, going to get Mary out of the backseat. I opened Martha's side of the car so she could get out. She immediately went around to the other side of the car to see Mary as Paul sat her down. It was pretty muddy right now, so she was wearing her red rain boots that went almost up to her knees. Sometimes she even wore them when it hadn't rained. She just really liked her rain boots, to be honest. It was completely fine with me because they didn't have any laces that I'd have to do up for her, so it was a win-win situation, I suppose.

"What do you think of this, Mary?" Paul asked her. She extended her arms out so that he would pick her up and he obliged, picking her up and sitting her on his shoulders so she could see it all. She was torn between holding onto Holly the horse and grabbing onto Paul to keep herself steady, so I reached up to take the horse from her hands. She smiled and wrapped her arms around Paul's head. He walked over so that she could get a good view of the farm. "How does it look?" he asked her.

I looked up and Mary's face was lit up in excitement. "You like it?" I asked her, my face spreading into a smile. She nodded happily.

Paul let out a deep sigh. "It's so bloody beautiful out here," he said. "Let's go in the house!"

ꕥ ꕥ ꕥ

There was a fire burning in the fireplace. We had laid a carpet down on the living room floor and Martha was laying down as Mary played on the floor. I was sitting on the couch with Paul. His arms were around me as he watched his daughter playing with Martha. She was holding one side of a rope toy, Martha tugging on the other gently. She knew not to get too rough with Mary. She was a good dog. When she wasn't destroying Mary's toys, anyways.

Despite how much work we still needed to do on the house, it was cozy in here. Mary had picked out the room that she wanted. The one with the big window that had the seat. It had made me nervous as hell since it was on the second floor, but Paul assured me that as long as it was locked, there was no way she was getting out of it and I had eventually given in.

"You know," Paul said quietly to me and I moved my head to see him looking down at me.

"Hm?" I asked when he didn't follow up with anything.

"Okay, hear me out," he said. "This may sound crazy."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Alright?"

"I want another baby," he said, looking me in the eyes with sincerity.

The words surprised me just a bit. "Where would we put another baby?" I asked him with a smile. "Give me a place and I'll give you a baby."

"We've got a spare room back in London, y'know," he said. "And just think. We can fix this place up even more and move out here. Get away from fuckin' London. Sometimes I bloody hate it there, y'know?"

I nodded. "I'd love another baby, Paul," I replied, resting my head back on his shoulder. "Maybe soon."

"I wanna have a million babies with you," he teased. "Or rather, make. That part is more fun. A lot less stressful."

"Oh, shut the hell up, you pervert." I smirked at him. "I love you."

He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. "I love you too."