𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲 | roger taylor

XXXVIII

December 31, 1977

Extravagant. Beautiful. Intimidating, in some lights, but generally warm and welcoming. The very words I'd use to describe Freddie Mercury's home also work perfectly when describing the man himself. His home seems to capture his personality perfectly, down to the very last cat hanging around every corner.

Our last encounter, at a stuffy thrift shop while I was huge with pregnancy, was several years ago and we were long overdue for a reunion. The man takes my hands as soon as he greets us in the foyer, looking me up and down.

"Lovely," he says quietly, bringing me in for a tight hug. "You're as lovely as ever."

His dark eyes are sparkling, hair which once brushed his shoulders now cut shorter than when we met last. Of course, seeing him on television or in magazines couldn't compare to him in person. "Says you," I reply, releasing our intertwined hands. "I can't wait to see the whole place."

"I have a grand tour scheduled just for you and your little one." He spots Audrey peeking behind my legs, crouching down to her level. "And you must be Audrey."

My daughter nods, clinging to my hand as she comes out of hiding. Audrey's dressed in her favorite bright red footie pajamas, her dark hair french braided and tied with matching ribbons. It was an accessory she requested after seeing the slightly dressier attire I'd chosen to go with.

"Why can't I wear a dress, too?" she had asked me, tugging on the hem of my skirt, her lip jutted out.

"Because you'll be more comfortable this way. We'll be staying there for a while, remember?"

Audrey's frown had deepened, so we found middle ground with some shiny red hair ribbon I'd had. She was delighted to show Roger, who oohed and ahhed over it much to her satisfaction.

"I'm a friend of your mum's, but you can call me Uncle Freddie..." the man says now.

Roger turns to me, grabbing my attention. "He's been waiting for this moment forever," he tells me in a low voice. "You can only spoil cats so much, you know?"

"Spoil? I'm not accepting anything from him," I say as Audrey trades my hand for one of Freddie's. He sure can charm a three year old, can't he? The pair of them head for a hallway to our left, Roger and I following closely behind.

"I don't think we have a choice, Thea. He can't control himself."

I give Roger a look. "Uh huh. As if she needs anything else, you practically buy her everything she sees on television."

"Because she deserves it."

Freddie leads us into a large dining room, where I see the remaining Queen boys and their wives seated at the marble topped bar, sipping drinks and laughing. Brian spots us first, eyebrows shooting up. "Well, well. The guests of honor have arrived," he exclaims, raising his drink in celebration.

It seems him and John are already a little tipsy, by the smothering hugs they give me and the slight smell of liquor they give off. Nonetheless, they're joyous as ever, psyched to meet Audrey and full of conversation.

"Thea, this is my wife, Chrissie," Brian tells me, introducing me to the pretty, long-haired woman at his side. "Chrissie, this is Thea, Audrey's mother."

"Good to meet you."

A slender woman with light hair holds out a hand for me to shake, smiling warmly. "I'm Veronica, John's wife."

"It's lovely to finally meet you." I've heard vaguely about the two marrying a few years ago, but never got the chance to hear about them, unfortunately.