Hello

Finding Home

There are positives and negatives about the boys being away on tour:

Positive - I've got no one to annoy me

Negative - I've got no one to annoy me

The last two days before they returned, I went back to Roger's house and tried to make it look as though I had been living there in his absence but Roger could see right through it. To add to that, instead of my usual  back from tour welcome of standing in the doorway in an oversize shirt and underwear, he greeted me in the bathroom where my morning sickness had finally started to kick in. Before I could turn around and tell him to go away, he was on his knees next to me, rubbing circles on my shoulder blades.

"You're a mess without me, aren't ya?" He laughed as I swung my arm back and gently elbowed him in the stomach. I grabbed one of his legs as a wave of nausea filled me and I heaved one last time before collapsing into Roger's chest. I closed my eyes and wiped my mouth with a wad of toilet paper I had shoved in my sleeve before.

"Someone had sneaky Chinese last night."

Instead of hitting him again, I just laughed slightly and let him flush the toilet.

"I guess I should say welcome back."

Roger kissed the top of my head and ran his hands through my hair, giving me silence to gather myself and get up. After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I flopped myself onto the bed as Roger unpacked, throwing clothes onto indistinct piles. The bed mountain was to be re-folded and put away and the floor piles were destined for the laundry.

"You know, the house seems pretty untouched for a place that has people living in it full time." He commented, throwing another one of his Hawaiian dad shirts at me.

"Yeah, about that-"

"Babe, if you don't want to live here then just say so."

His words slapped my face like a forceful, icy hand. I clamped my lips together, knowing if I were to speak, it would merely consist of blabber. I swallowed hard and whispered "this house is empty. It's full of nothing. It's your house, Roger, it has no part of me in it."

It was Roger's turn to look a little perturbed. He glanced around, taking in the bedroom. His bedroom. He then stuck his head out into the hallway and peered into the entrance. Every piece of furniture, every colour, every item. It was all his. All I had was clothes and they were stashed away in the bathroom closet, no room in the bedroom one. I was right, and he knew it.

___________

Silence and that big house never mixed well for me so when Roger stormed out to his studio after our argument, I drove to Brian's for the night.

"I hope there's enough room on that couch for one more!" I announced, sliding the front door closed behind me and peeling off my jacket. It was warm inside and the smell of cookies baking in the oven were a magnet.

"Of course! I thought you would have been at home with Roger?" Brian May jumped up from the couch with a concerned look on his face. I shook my head and hugged him tight, my head barely reaching his shoulders. Christine Mullen made me into a sandwich filling, hugging us both like we did the day I changed my name. We stayed huddled for what felt like hours, but wasn't long enough. Eventually, the May sandwich waddled to the couch and watched The Wizard of Oz, harmonised karaoke included. I must have fallen asleep not long afterwards because I woke up in my old bedroom the next morning.

"I wondered when you were gonna get up." Roger Taylor remarked from the doorway. I sat up in bed, wondering how long he had been standing there. Outside my window, the sky was grey and bright, not a car in sight. Looking back at Roger, it was fairly obvious that he, unlike me who had received a very comfortable nights rest, had not slept at all.

"I know you hate me and I get it. I shouldn't have slutted myself around like that on tour." He apologised, slowly walking in and sitting at the foot of my bed. I couldn't help but kiss him slowly, the first time in weeks I had felt his lips on mine again. I didn't want it to end. I wanted him to take me then and there, in all honesty. He disconnected himself from me, breathing heavily.

"Let's make our own home."

"What?"

"My house is too me,your house it too you. Let's move out of both, sell them off, and make our own home."

I kissed him again, slower and deeper, my hands in his blond hair and tracing a line under his shirt. I didn't want to admit it, but I had missed that short-sighted hairy-legged dork.