yesterday • (sequel to "And I Love Her")

twelve: content

Early May 1972

Despite his family, Paul still felt that loneliness everywhere. There was no escaping it. Even when he was surrounded by people who loved him and adored him--whether they were family he knew everything about or fans he knew nothing about--he still felt alone. He should have his young, beautiful wife by his side. He had a young, beautiful wife, but not the one he saw in his dreams every night. Even after a night of action with his Lovely Linda, Casady occupied his mind as soon as they were done and his interaction with another human being was over. Then it became complete self-interaction.
But this night was different. He felt no loneliness when he was just recently panting and sweating, hovering over Linda, and he felt no loneliness after. She wasn't cuddled up next to him, but she was rather turned over and probably already asleep. But he felt different than he did every other night after they were done making love; he had previously felt like nothing happened to him during or after and that he was still in a mild state of depression when they finished, but tonight he felt closer to her and felt far from depressed.
Despite this feeling, that made him unable to shake a smile as he laid there, he didn't quite trust it. He figured it would come back soon and then it would start all over again. So, he got back up a while later, around 11, and got dressed in a t-shirt and pajama pants and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him so as to not let anything disturb Linda in her peaceful sleep.
He went downstairs and was surprised to find his own daughter sitting at the table, writing something down. She seemed very focused; eyebrows furrowed, tongue barely peeking out of her pursed lips, and eyes glued to the paper. She looked up and smiled when she heard her father's footsteps.
"Hi, daddy."
"Hey, darling, what are you doing up?" he asked her as he sat down.
"I'm writing songs like you do. I couldn't sleep and I was keeping Heather awake so she told me to go write a song. I don't think she was serious though," she said, her tone deepening and her face dropping a bit.
"Well, why stop?"
"I don't know," she replied. "I'm not as good at it as you are."
"Oh, I don't believe that for a second," Paul assured her. "Your imagination is much, much wider and brighter than mine."
"But I'm too young to know anything."
"Now, that's not true, you know plenty of things. They are just much different from things I know."
She shrugged and looked down, dropping her hands below the table. Paul moved closer to her. "Can I see?"
She snatched the paper away. "No, you'll laugh at me," she replied.
"I promise I will only laugh if I love it," he said, putting his pinky out towards her, indicating he wanted to make a pinky promise. She took it with her own pinky and carefully slid the paper over to him, turning it so he could see.
The first thing that caught Paul's attention was her handwriting on the title Bluebird. For a 7-year-old, it was super neat and easy to read. It was easier to read than Heather's handwriting, despite the 3-year difference in age.
He started reading and he was genuinely shocked by the poetic tone it had.
Late at night when the wind is still
I'll come flying through your door
And you'll know what love is for
I'm a bluebird
That was all she had down but he could hear the song as if it were already written. Something with the way the words flowed in his head caused a click. He laughed very shortly, in awe of what his daughter had written.
"Darling, this is amazing! Where did you learn to write like this?"
"I read in a book about some bluebird that flew through a window and then I heard you tell mom that you loved her earlier. I don't know, it just happened like that."
"Do you know how I come up with songs and write them?"
"How? Did I do something wrong?"
"No, no, absolutely not. Far from it. I see and hear and experience things, so I write them down, and then I put it together on the piano. You did the exact same; you saw and heard something, and you wrote it down. Now we just need to add more and make a song out of it."
She got the biggest smile on her face. It was the biggest smile he'd seen in a while since it had been rainy lately on the farm. Paul knew well that like him, his daughter did not like having to be awake during long periods of rainy days. They would rather sleep.
"I'll tell you what, Haydan," Paul said. "You keep this paper and if you see or hear or experience anything else you think might go with a bluebird, you write it down, and when you have plenty written, we will turn it into a song."
"Okay," she replied giddily. "When do you want me to have it done?"
"Whenever you feel that it's done," he said. "It's your song, darling."
She smiled. She smile a big, genuine smile. She felt very proud of herself and was happy that her dad loved what she did.
She got off her chair and came to sit on his lap. He welcomed her company and hugged her once she sat down, and he didn't let go. She hugged back immediately, willingly.
"I love you, daddy," she said quietly against his chest.
"I love you too, darling," he replied. "But I think it's a bit late for you to be up now."
She yawned in the middle of his sentence in agreement. "I know, I just couldn't sleep."
"I know, Haydan. But let's go on up to bed. We have a sunny day tomorrow and I think it's time we go back outside with the animals."
"I agree," she replied eagerly. Her excitement made Paul laugh.
She jumped off his lap and ran in front of him to the stairs in the living room, but waited for him. He always carries her up to bed and didn't disappoint tonight either. He picked her up and she rested her head on his shoulder, arms wrapped around his neck. He carried her quietly up the creaky wooden stairs and took her back into the bedroom she shared with Heather and Mary. He quietly laid her down in her bed and pulled the covers up to her chin, only covering her face briefly to make her laugh.
"I'll see you in the morning," he whispered and kissed her forehead.
"Okay," she replied and gave him another small kiss on the lips. He put his hand on her head and rubbed his thumb over her forehead before standing upright and leaving the room, hoping the other two weren't disturbed. They didn't budge, and he left a small crack in the door.
Laying back down in bed, he held the biggest smile on his face. Linda had noticed him come back in and snuggled up next to him. He welcomed her warm body to wrap around his and made him more sleepy than he had felt in a long time. He had never wanted to sleep before because he didn't want to see Casady as a reminder in his dreams. But tonight, he welcomed sleep. For the first time since 1965, he finally slept, happy and content.

a day late!! been v busy! hope you enjoyed!