July 4th, '69
Hey, Linda.
I'm kind of worried a bit because I haven't heard from you in a few days and usually the post is really quick now that I live in central London, plus you haven't called me yet. I know I'm being a bit clingy, but I've had some really nice conversations with you and the person I'm seeing is kind of getting a little jealous of you since I talk to you a lot, but we're working things out so it's fine. Just call me when you get this, yeah?
Cheers,
- J.L.
———->
July 9, 1969
Hey, John.
I think I'm gonna take the plunge and break up with my boyfriend. Not like he really meant anything to me anyway. My dad's thinking about paying me a visit soon so I'll have to do it before then. It's just been weighing on me for a while so that's why I haven't written to you since that crazy weekend, and I normally wouldn't take advice from you (haha), but this I can trust you on. I appreciate the offer on letting me come and stay, but I'm fine now, really. Everything has sort of calmed down now. I'm still working at my boring office job, still trying to pay rent for this apartment, normal stuff. My sister's coming to stay this weekend which will be fun. I think I just heard a buzz in so I'll be back.
It was her, so I'll have to finish this up quickly. I hope you are having a grand time with the person you're dating, and I promise I will call one day but I'm just not ready yet, y'know? Speak of the devil, I just got a phone call.
"Hello?" A mixed accent of Irish, Scottish and English spoke to me. "Who is this?" I ask, my head pondering who it might be since we do have family overseas but it sounds nothing like them. "Woah, you're voice is nothing like I imagined it. You almost sound like a Londoner." "Pardon me? Is this some kind of sick joke?"
There was some flipping of pages in the white noise. "Is this Linda L. Eastman? The one that lives in New York?" He investigates. "Why yes, I do believe so. Why do you ask?" I set my pen down and stretch my hand, hearing several pops in my wrist like I set corn over a fire. "This is John.....John Lennon." He hesitates as I almost hear the lip bite over the lines. "Oh my god, John! How did you get my phone number?" I belt excitedly, sliding down low on my chair.
"I flipped through me trusty yellow pages and found the international section." He chuckled quietly. "Why are you calling me? Is everything alright? Is Stuart okay?" Worry filled my gut like a slow gliding of water down gutters. "We're both okay, everything is just fab. I just wanted to call because......." He trailed off. "John.....what is it?" Ice folded around me, not even noticing Laura's warm hand resting on my arm as she juggled around for a reaction.
"........I was-,....worried about you." His voice had faded out into a whisper, rain taps consuming the void. Tears filled my bottom eyelids, taunting me with every millisecond that passes as they step forward and fall of their cliff made of human skin. "John...I'm fine, I'm not shitting you when I say that. We're just casual friends, not buried in each other's bosoms. Why do you care so much about me?" The room grew deaf as I looked into my sister's eyes and adjusted my posture, looking away.
"Nothing. Goodbye, Linda."
"Bye, John."
It felt the room had darkened hearing the soft and reluctant click from his telephone, my bones unable to move. I set the receiver on the handles, silently stood up and weakly sauntered over to my closet. "So....is Joseph coming with us to dinner tonight?" Laura directed onto another subject. "No, he um....he has to work tonight. I thought it would be just the two of us y'know....having a laugh, drinking and going out on the town as two pretty ladies." Rain tapped against the window as I flipped though the blouses on my coat rack, pulling one out and placing it against my bodice and checking in the mirror. It'll do.
