⇾𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈𝐈

Chapter Fifty-Nine: A Stupidly Hormonal Pregnant Lady

April 14, 1967

"John, are you sure you don't want me to drive?"

I opened the back door of the car so I could set Boots in the backseat. The cat curled up in a tight ball and immediately fell asleep. It was six already. That was his bedtime. It was like clockwork, really.

"No, I've got it," he insisted, but the look on his face said the opposite. Along with the cat, I sat the box Mimi had given us in the back floorboards.

Then, I looked at John doubtfully. "You don't look so sure about that," I noted.

He frowned at me. "Of course, I'm sure," he insisted, furrowing his brow in mock annoyance.

"Whatever you say, but I have no issue with driving," I responded, putting my hands up in surrender as I climbed into the passenger seat.

"And if I decide I don't wanna do it anymore, I'll keep that in mind."

I nodded. "Right."

"Ready?" he asked, studying the car as if it was the first one he'd ever seen in his life. Then, he looked over at me and smiled. "That shirt looks good on you, did I tell you?"

I frowned and cast my gaze downward to where I was wearing one of his button-ups. It was just big enough to where it was loose-fitting and comfortable—a feat most of my clothes fell short of now—so I'd stolen it for myself shamelessly. "Yeah, thanks," I murmured. "You try lugging around an extra ten pounds," I added bitterly.

"Aww, is she grumpy?"

"No," I fired. "I'm perfectly fine." I crossed my arms.

"Aw, love, you can yell all you want," he said as he pulled into the road. "I still love you, and I know you still love me."

I shrugged. "I guess so."

"Did you have a good trip?" he asked me with a smile.

I nodded, immediately feeling happier as I recalled the memories of the past week. "The best."

"It's always great to come down here, isn't it?" he asked fondly. "You know," he added afterwards. "I've been thinking."

"Thinking about what?" I responded, looking out the window.

"Well, it's finally starting to warm up," he said slowly.

"Yes, it is. That's what happens in spring," I remarked with a smirk.

He rolled his eye before continuing. "We should have a little get-together with the rest of the band. Perhaps a pool party," he proposed, looking positively thrilled at the very idea.

"A pool party?" I asked uncertainly, looking down at my stomach. The idea of a swimsuit made it look bigger than it was.

John caught me looking down and frowned. "I know what you're thinking," he tutted.

"Then, that means you know why I'm so inclined to say no," I replied stubbornly.

"C'mon, love," he said desperately. "It'll be okay."

I felt unnecessary tears prick my eyes. "I know," I answered, my voice quivering.

"Don't make me park this car and give you a hug," John warned teasingly, reaching over to take my hand.

I giggled and wiped my eyes. "I don't even know why I'm crying," I admitted.

"You seem to say that a lot lately," he noted. "Why's that?"

"Because, I'm a stupidly hormonal pregnant lady," I responded with a half-hearted laugh.

"A beautiful one," he quipped. "Pregnancy never looked so good." He smirked at me.

I shoved him in the arm lightly, laughing.

"Ahhh, there it is." He grinned, pleased with something.

"There's what?" I asked curiously.

"Your beautiful smile," he said encouragingly. Then, he reached to turn up the radio. "Hold me close and tell me how you feel / Tell me love is real, mmm," he sang along with the song that we both knew by heart, grinning at me with a dopey look on his face the entire time.

~~~

It was 10:30 when we finally got home.

"We'll bring everything in tomorrow," John said to me as I yawned. He clearly noticed that I was tired, having stayed awake to keep him company the entire drive home. "Let's just go in and go to bed for now."

"John, why're the lights on?" I asked vaguely.

"Why are the wha—?" he began, following my pointing finger to the from door where the lights were clearly turned on inside. "Uh—," he began. "Maybe Geo just left them on when he came to bring the crib in. I'm sure it's alright."

"Oh." I looked around doubtfully. "Alright."

"I'll get the cat," he said, a glint in his eye that told me he picked up on my suspicions.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and fumbled to my feet, stretching my arms above my head in attempt to ease the dull ache that was in my back. I was hoping that moving around a bit would help ease the aching in my lower back. I groaned out loud when it didn't. Standing up so fast made my vision splotchy, so I ended up leaning forward to rest my head against the top of the car as I waited for it to subside.

After a moment, I felt a comforting hand on my back. "Alright?" John asked me.

When my vision cleared again and I no longer felt faint, I stood up straight again and nodded, but when I turned back to the house, something had changed.

"John, why aren't the lights on now?" I asked him blankly.

He looked up and realized quickly that I was right. A puzzled look went across his face. "Uhm—I'm not sure. H-how about I go in first?"

I looked around to see if there were anymore cars in the driveway, but it was too dark to tell and neither of us had been looking out for one when we pulled in, so we had no way of knowing whether anyone else was in the driveway or not.

"Sure, that's fine," I responded. Then, I reached my arms out. "I'll take Boots."

John and I went up the house slowly. On the way there, John stopped to look in each of the windows to see if he could see anything, but shrugged to me each time, effectively telling me he could see nothing. Finally, after we'd accepted that someone was probably in our house and there was only one way to know for sure, John turned his key in the door and popped it open.

Nothing jumped out and killed us, and that put my mind strangely at ease. John flipped the light on, expecting to see someone standing there, but again to no avail. John looked around a moment and then reached and took a piece of wood from next to the door in his hands, which really just seemed like overkill at that point. I had no idea why there was a piece of wood propped up against our wall, but it did seem useful at this particular moment.

When my eyes wandered towards our staircase, I saw light coming from upstairs. I tapped John on the shoulder and pointed upwards.

"Stay here," he murmured and began his journey upstairs.

No matter how much Boots squirmed in my grip, I refused to let him go. I just sat there patiently and waited for something to happen—anything.