The Life We Once Knew

When In Doubt, Drink

"Tired?" I smiled.

Jane lifted her head from the kitchen bar. Dark bags hung underneath her eyes and her entire body hung limply, like a deflated balloon. She had a glass of water next to her but it was untouched. She looked like she was about to collapse.

She had been working herself ragged on this new play of hers. It seemed that they had a show every night and a rehearsal every day. Part of me began to understand what Paul meant when he said Here, There, and Everywhere. I missed her terribly when she was gone, but I was also proud of her. She was out there making a name for herself, I just wish it wouldn't cost her sanity. 

"I'm wide awake," she mumbled, "Just a little..."

"Tired?"

"Yeah."

I chuckled and put the dish I was drying next to the sink. I leaned on the bar and gently took the glass of water away from her, "Janie, love, you're about to drop everything."

"Am not."

"Stand up, then."

She glanced at me and wrinkled her nose. Her spitefulness usually could take precedence, but sometimes even the stubborn ones have to step down. Whenever she stood, she nearly lost her footing, grabbing onto the counter for balance. I chuckled, "How about you go to bed?"

"But-"

"No buts. Upstairs, go."

She frowned but listened. I watched her sluggishly go up the stairs. Just after my bedroom door shut, I heard what was only someone flopping onto the mattress followed by a soft rumbling. I shook my head and chuckled.

Not many people would guess, but Jane snored like a freight train. If I could sleep, she'd be keeping me up all night. Oddly, though, I enjoyed her snores. When I heard them, I knew she was there. They broke through the deafening silence that seemed to be getting less and less the longer she was with me. She might have woken Vera up a few times, but I loved her snores. 

The director of the play Jane was in had her working nonstop, day and night. She hadn't gotten home until two in the morning the night before and had to get up and do it all again at five. It was ridiculous, but there was no talking to the boss. He was as stubborn as a board and deaf as a dalmatian.

I turned back to the dishes and continued drying. It was getting late, nearing eleven o'clock. I was getting tired as well. The warmth of the bed called to me, especially when Jane would be sleeping next to me.

She still owned the flat across the hall, but, more often than not, she could be found here. She spent more time with Vera and I than she did in her own home, to my greatest pleasure. She might as well just move in with me and save herself the trouble. In the back of my mind, I knew I would ask her sooner rather than later.

A knock on the door startled me, nearly making me drop the dish. I grimaced, "Bloody hell. Who's knockin' at this time of night?"

By now, one would think I would have learned. When there's a surprising knock at a time where normal people would be asleep, it could be only one of four lads. They always seemed to like to visit me when I least expected it. 

Abandoning the dish on the counter, I hurried to the door. The person hadn't stopped knocking. It sounded like two harmonious knocks, like the chorus of a song. I knew who was knocking before I even opened the door.

"'Ello, Melly Mel," George slouched on the doorframe with a wide grin.

Ringo giggled, "Didn't expect-didn't expect you to be here."

"I live here, you bloody gits," I shook my head, "You two are plastered, aren't ya?"

"Course not. We're fit as fiddles," George grinned.