𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘽𝙀𝘼𝙏𝙇𝙀𝙎 𝙄𝙈𝘼𝙂𝙄𝙉𝙀𝙎

𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 • 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 • 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬

era: 1966
name: natasha

christmas eve eve

the household was far from quiet that night. everyone in the harrison residence loved christmas. it was supposed to be great. every year was. it was 1966. christmas had almost begun. in london, during christmas, it usually didn't snow too much, mostly rain. this year, it snowed. and when i say it snowed, it snowed. there was even a blizzard warning! in london! we couldn't believe it.

i always went to my best friend, sara's christmas parties. they were quite fun since my family never did anything like the sort. ever since sara invited me in '61, i'd gone every year. eggnog, christmas cookies, plenty of roast beef, buttery mashed potatoes and macaroni and cheese; food that was always there. this year, my parents had gone out of town for something business related, so sara's family invited me over for the weekend. that saturday, sara and i stayed in. we would've taken her father's car, but the roads were way too icy and slippery.

sara and i had just went to to the store—or, at least tried to go to the store. sara's car was shit. so were the roads. her mother needed eggs for the eggnog, so it seemed there wouldn't be much of that this year.

stomping my feet off at the door, i drew a heavy sigh. we were stuck at home again. "so, when is everybody coming over?"

"we have christmas eve dinner with my father's side of the family, then christmas dinner with my mum's." she responded. i dreaded her father's side every year. all six years i'd been there, sara's weird stepbrother came and tortured us. he moved away right when i started coming, but it'd been nonstop ever since i went. "jack might not come this year." she smiled as we hurried up the stairs, back to her room.

"at least one part of christmas'll be alright, yeah?" i tried to be optimistic, but it didn't seem like sara wanted to budge. we sat in her room for hours, just talking and listening to music.

everyone knew sara's uncle was george harrison, and they embraced that. after all, it was the height of beatlemania. they weren't touring anymore, and luckily sara and i got to see them before. it was their last concert. august 29, candlestick park in california. it wasn't exactly a lifelong dream of sara's to see her uncle live in concert. she'd known him all her life, so he wasn't special apart from being a celebrity.

but peter, her father, wanted her to go and experience it, so he called george and asked for two tickets to the last concert. george obliged and sent the tickets right away. we obviously had to get a plane ride, so george sent two plane tickets for us, too. i couldn't believe his kindness, and i swore that one day i'd somehow try to pay him back. he jokingly remarked that he'd try and find us in the crowd while on the phone with peter, but i knew that wouldn't be likely. i was even surprised our parents let two seventeen year old girls go to america alone! no chaperones whatsoever!

it wasn't a chilly day, but it was cool. 15 celsius—or 59 fahrenheit for americans. it was sunny, with only a bit of wind. but when we got there, it ended up being foggy and wind for miles. nonetheless, we went and had a great time amongst the screaming, writhing, dancing girls and unhappy parents. i wore my finest dress, as did sara. at nearly half past nine, the beatles came into the stage with their floppy hair and special instruments. ringo was always my favorite. he had a childlike happiness about him while on stage, so i thought he was funny. sara's favorite was paul. she thought he was so handsome. we had a great time—even if george didn't wave to us.

back at home, in sara's room, i wondered whether george would be at christmas this year since he wasn't touring. "it's been a while since candlestick," i murmured aloud after she began drawing me in her notebook. "can you believe it?"