Lost & Found (Beatles Fan Fiction)

Chapter 3

I hadn't heard from John since that night at my apartment.  The day after I had kicked him out, I had told Emma what had happened.  She was a bit weary about the whole situation, telling me I needed to be cautious when dealing with John since he seemed to be in a difficult moment of his life:  his separation from Yoko, the news that he was Elise's father, his ongoing drinking and drug use. I didn't know what to think.  I hadn't prepared myself to ever have John back in my life...especially not so abruptly. I was not ready to introduce Elise to her father and more so, John was not ready to be that for her. 

About two weeks later, I was at the gallery finishing up some paperwork when I heard my name being called out.

"Mirel!!!"

"No." I said as I realized who it was.  I quickly made my way to the front of the gallery and saw John in a pitiful state. 

"Mirel!!!  Where the bloody hell are you?!?!" John stumbled through the gallery.

"John! What are you doing here?" I asked running towards him and looking around to see if there was anyone else in the gallery. I didn't see anyone and I immediately ran and closed the front doors to prevent anyone else from coming in. 

"Mirel!" John repeated.  I looked at him.  He was slurring his words a bit and his appearance was less than inviting. If his stumbling and his slurring words weren't enough to let me know of his drunken state, his breath of scotch did. 

"John....it's only 4 o'clock in the afternoon...what...why the hell are you in this state?  C'mon." I said as I tried to direct him into my office.

"Mirel...I needed to...I wanted to tell you I'm sorry." John muttered.

"C'mon...sit down...." I tried getting John to take a seat.

"No...I need you to know that I'm sorry for what happened..." John persisted.

"Okay.  Okay John....we can talk about it later, just...wait..hold on." I said as I tried to support John's weight as he leaned on me.  We both almost came crashing to the floor as John's balance gave way.  I finally managed to sit him down and John kept repeating something inaudible. 

"Okay." I sighed as I ran my hands through my hair. "John. Where’s May?"

"Probably at home." John uttered.

"Okay...uuummm...let's get you there...let's...let's get you home." I replied as I looked for my car keys. After a few minutes of trying to get through to John, he finally told me May had rented a beach house in Santa Monica. I was hoping John would be able to direct me to the house once we got closer.  Before leaving, I made a quick call to Emma and asked her to drop off Elise at my parent's house for the evening.  I wasn't sure what time I would be coming home from dropping off John.  Holding onto John, I staggered all the way to the car. I let him fall into the passenger side and ran to lock up the gallery.  As we drove down to Santa Monica, John fell asleep and I was more than happy with that.  It gave me a chance to calm my nerves. 

 It usually took about 45 minutes to drive down from the gallery to Santa Monica, but the traffic from everyone getting off work was terrible and it took nearly 2 hours to finally make it there.

"John..." I nudged him as we got to Santa Monica.

He mumbled but didn't open his eyes.

"John....I need to know where to go from here." I persisted. 

With a little more nudging and a groggy John giving me some direction, I finally pulled up to an amazing house.  It was simply brilliant with a lot of trees surrounding it.  As I stopped the car, John popped open the door and stepped out.  I turned off the engine and got out of my side, not knowing if John was going to be able to walk to the house on his own. Apparently the two hour nap had sobered him enough for his motor skills to work.  As he walked up to the house, I saw an Asian girl with long, dark hair and round glasses run towards him. I could only assume this was May Pang.  When she reached him, she gave him a quick kiss and immediately tried to help him into the house.  But John wasn't having any of that.  He told her he could do it on his own.  She was a young looking thing, couldn't have been more than 25 years old and the look of concern for John was evident.