There wasn’t quite anything like having your three closest girlfriends over to help you assemble do-it-yourself baby furniture while Freddie, Roger, Brian and John met in London for a press conference regarding the upcoming Japanese leg of the tour.
“If Freddie got such a good report why do you seem so very pre-occupied?” I asked as Mary held the side of the solid cherry crib so Chrissie could place the bolts. She sighed.
“I know…I know it’s silly. It’s just…I can’t get my mind off the fact that the doctor couldn’t explain why Freddie’s white blood cell count was still elevated. And he said himself that the medical community doesn’t know enough about T-cells. I only fear there’s something…” Veronica, now three months pregnant, stopped Mary.
“It sounds like you’re looking for something to worry about, Mary. Don’t do that to yourself. You practically made yourself sick over not knowing the results when they were returned.”
“I know that you’re right and I should be more than grateful over the news we received. And I am! I’m so very happy. There’s just been this looming in my mind after having read over the reports last night once again. But, Freddie is PCP free and I need to appreciate that for all it’s worth.” Mary lectured herself out loud.
“Yes, you do!” Veronica said, handing over another bolt. I took in Veronica’s truthful words as I attempted to make sense of the stupid step-by-step handout as to how to put the damn diaper changing table together. I wasn’t having the best time of my life but I was managing.
“I was so happy…so very happy when the doctor said there was no detection of PCP but the white blood cell elevation weighed heavy on my mind all night. I couldn’t dare let Freddie know that something was on my mind. But we…we did have such a wonderful day together and Freddie’s smile when the doctor told us the results…” Mary shook her head and smiled. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. Veronica is right and Freddie is healthy and…okay…I’m ready to talk about something else now!” Mary said, steadying the side of the crib.
I let out a long huff and threw the step-by-step assembly guide into the floor, putting my fingers on my forehead. “What’s wrong?” Chrissie asked as she happily organized the things Roger and I already had for the baby.
“I’m…I’m so scared that this baby will be as hairy as Roger is.” I confessed, sighing heavily.
"What!? What are you talking about!? Roger isn’t….hairy? Is he?" Mary asked, looking toward Chrissie for some kind of confirmation.
"Yes he is! You’ve never seen under his arms! Oh god….his legs! You’ve never seen his legs...that much. Do you know he considered shaving them in 1973? Oooooh shit…this baby is doomed to get all of Roger’s shitty traits and all of my shitty traits!” I paused a moment. "Oh my god...what if it's a girl!? What if we have a hairy girl!? I bet it gets his eyebrows! My god! It can’t get his eyebrows! This baby is completely fucked!” Mary, Veronica and Chrissie were laughing at me in varying degrees. “Would you shut up! I’m serious! This baby is going to be a hairy, fucked-up mess! Chrissie you can’t stand there, putting together that…thing….and tell me you didn’t worry about Jimmy getting Brian’s out of control afro hair!” I worriedly yelled at her.
“I worried about that for her.” Veronica looked at me and mumbled.
“Lydia! No! Of course I didn’t worry about that! Come on now! Don’t say such a thing!” Chrissie scolded me. “This baby is gonna’ look like you. It’ll get those big brown eyes and ooooooooh if it gets Roger’s smile! Oh can you imagine! I can’t wait to see little baby Taylor and hold him or her! Awww, I know you’re not excited about hair but just think, Lydia if you have a girl and it gets all Roger’s golden blonde hair! Oh my god!” Chrissie was about to blow a gasket from excitement.
