Love Me Do

~ 81 ~

Kaylee's POV

When I was younger, maybe 10, I took a trip to my grandfathers house.

He was from England, a small town named Kirkby, and I remember the plane flight and holding my mothers hand.

He was a kind old man, and that was the first and only time I'd ever met him.

"Do you listen to music, Kaylee?" He had asked me when I warmed up to him, and I remember feeling quite shy.

"Yes," I had answered, wondering where he was going with this. "Of course I do."

"What type of music, my darl?"

"Mum listens to pop, so I do too."

"Pop music?" He had responded, sounding rather accusing, but interested. "Have you ever listened to rock?"

"I guess.."

"Ever heard of a band called The Beatles?"

I had shaken my head; Mum didn't play their music.

It was then that my grandfather took out a box from the top shelf of his cupboard, and handed me a few magazines, records and newspaper clippings, faded with years of love.

"They were your grandma's," He'd explained, and I didn't question what had happened to her. "She never got a chance to meet any of her granddaughters, and we only had your dad, so she had no one to share her love for this band with. I wondered if you'd like to."

I didn't know what to say, and I realise now, there was nothing to say.

"This one, John Lennon, the bloke with glasses," Grandpa had told me, pointing at a man with round glasses, long scraggly hair, featured on a newspaper. "He was your grandma's favourite."

"How come?" I asked, but grandpa shook his head.

"I have no idea," He responded. "He was shot, that Lennon. 1980. 40 years old. Your grandma wasn't very happy. She never liked Lennon's wife, either. Yoko, her name was. The only time she ever agreed with something Yoko had to say was when she kept Lennon's murderer in jail."

I, myself, couldn't wrap my head around why grandma had loved them so much, until grandpa played their music.

It was magical and rhythmic and so exhilarating, that I then understood.

From that day on, I knew I was doomed.

I had fallen in love with band I'll never see live; a band with half it's members long gone.

But now, here I was, with John Lennon's baby cradled in my arms, the other three members crowded around me, I felt like bursting into tears all over again.

I was with the man my own grandma had fallen in love with.

I had met the band I had grown to love, even though I didn't want to get involved when I first met them; I knew nothing good would have ever come from interacting with this band.

I only came here to be in their movie.

How come I never stopped to remember what my grandpa had told me when I was younger?

"John Lennon was a genius, he was," I remember him saying, his eyes scanning the very last Beatle's album, before handing it to me. "A misunderstood genius. You never forget that, Kaylee. You hear me?"

Now, turning from my baby's face, I looked up at that genius, only to find him gazing back.

===

My eyes decided to open themselves without my permission, but I knew it was only out of excitement.

Inside my arms, I felt the absence of the weight I had gotten used to, and began to panic.

Sitting up, frantic, I looked to my left, cringing in pain from yesterdays event.

Finding nothing but the white walls of the hospital and a desk with paper on it, I looked to my right and found John, his head resting on the back of the chair, our baby in his arms, wrapped protectively in his jumper, his little face poking out.

My heart fluttered at the sight, but I still felt uneasy without him in my own arms, so forgetting my pain, I stepped out of bed and wandered towards the pair.

"Good sleep?"

John's abrupt awakening lead me to think he had woken when I had, and I grinned at him, taking our baby, who was still in deep sleep.

"I guess you could say that," I replied, feeling satisfied as I walked back to the hospital bed and sat on the edge. "You?"

"Afraid I was going to drop him.." John admitted, casting an affectionate look towards our baby, before deciding and settling down next to me. "Thought of any names?"

I shrugged and cuddled our baby closer to my chest as he wriggled one of his little feet, obviously having a vivid dream.

"Christopher?" I suggested, looking down at the little thing in my arms; his small delicate mouth opening every now and then.

"How about.." John added, obviously hinting he didn't quite like Christopher. "Jasper?"

"Jasper Lennon," I whispered, causing John to smile slightly. "I like it."

"You do?" He asked, his brown eyes going a shade lighter in the morning sun. "Jasper Buddy Lennon.. Sounds great."

I laughed and playfully attempted to hit John with my elbow, but he dodged, joining in with my laughter too.

"We're not naming our child after Buddy Holly!" I giggled, and at that moment, three familiar faces walked in, their hair sticking up slightly.

I wanted a middle name for him, and inside my mind, I had an idea: Jasper James Lennon.

Two amazing James' forged into one.

"Hows the baby?" George gushed, rushing over and staring down at Jasper's peaceful face. "Was he worth the plastic chair sleep?"

"Most definitely," I assured, feeling rather unsure as I handed him over to George, who enveloped him in a tight embrace. "Be careful."

I watched as George's eyes welled up with tears and he cooed down at Jasper, who was obviously ignoring him in a deep sleep.

Ringo wandered over and peered down as well, taking a finger and lifting Jasper's tiny one.

"Hello!" He exclaimed, and I smiled. "Welcome to a life of rock n' roll!"

I felt John stir next to me, taking my hand in his, and I glanced towards him, wondering if he was watching his friends fawn over his baby as well, but his head was directed at Paul, who was standing by the window, staring back.

As soon as I met his gaze, he looked away, his dark brown eyes cast downwards, as though he didn't even want to look at me.

How could he, when I've broken his heart?