If You Want Me Too, I Will (Beatle Fan Fiction)

Chapter 17

"She is so excited," Richard sat next to me, and whispered towards me, while his parents were too busy to look a us. I moved over so he would have more room, but he still wanted to be really close to me anyway, "She really likes you," 

"I figured that out," I didn't know what to tell him, so I just ended it there. But he just kept going.

"All day she has been excited about dinner, but she isn't the only one," He very much needs to stop this. I looked at him, in those eyes, and for a moment, I didn't hear anything else or care about anything else. It was just the eyes. 

It always was just the eyes, the saddest eyes in the world belong to such a happy man. I have never heard anything so strange in my life. 

"Dinner is ready!" I broke the stare with Richard, and stumbled to stand. Richard quickly caught me, rushing to stand as well, and placing his hands on my sides. It was rather silent, making this little moment awkward in front of his family. He chuckled at me and I wiggled out of his rough grip, going for the seat waiting for me, across from his step-father. 

Richard sat to my left, his mother to my right. The food sitting before me looked fine, eatable and seemingly tasteful. I didn't really know exactly what everything was, but I was going to eat what I wanted to anyway, and try to be polite. 

"Thank you Elsie," I tried to give her a smile that showed my bit of appreciation. She sighed with happiness, and nodded.

"Of course! Now dig in!" My hunger wasn't very important at that moment, so I just picked up my fork and slowly ate whatever was on that plate. It was some kind of meat, probably chicken or something, with possibly potatoes and vegetables on the side. It tasted fine, actually kind of good, so I was satisfied. 

Richard looked like he hadn't eaten in a thousand years, eating his food by almost stuffing it into his moth with his fork. He would look up at me, but I think we was only eating fast so if I left, he would come with without being hungry. Or., maybe he was just hungry. It didn't really matter, I was trying to eat. 

His mother would slightly snap at him to stop being such a mess in front of the guest, even though I wasn't much of a guest to him. They all seemed pretty happy though, with that. You've got to choose between happiness and what people used to call high art.

"Do you like it Ms. Dewey?" I nodded at his mother, who was so satisfied with herself that she had done well enough for me. I don't really know why she wanted me to be so happy, maybe she was fattening me up to eat me, trapped in a candy cottage. 

Dinner lasted forever, as Elsie kept trying to ask me questions to answer honestly, though I don't think I quite did. Richard possibly noticed on some of my stretched truths, and would give me a look, a raised eyebrow for just a moment, and then probably store it away to bug me with later, or when something changes to bug me with then.

"How are your parents?" Which one? 

"Why Dewey?" Why not?

"Why teaching?" The money, also, Richard. 

She took my plates and other dishes, bring them into the kitchen and into the sink to clean. Harry gave an old smile and sat on the couch to read the paper. He didn't really say much to me, though I don't think he minded me at all. It's not like this as his son anyway, so what would it matter if I came in.

"Thank you for everything you have done for us Dewey," His mother shook my hand lightly, her grip was very different but very soft and aged from having a son and living in the poorest part of Liverpool, but she still smiled sweetly, "You have really helped us, and this is the least we could do for you,"