The Gift of Girls

Chapter Twelve: Ringo

I set each of them a different task. John was delving into a box of Christmas decoration that had been hauled down from the storage room, messing around with tinsel and juggling baubles. Paul watched him irritably, fanning out the tree's branches and delicately hanging pretty crystal ornaments on each one. I was busy pinning special Christmas bunting to the living room walls. George didn't help much at all; he claimed to be 'too busy' looking after Serenity.

Very soon, the Christmas tree was standing proudly in solitary splendor, fairy lights twinkling softly in the evening light. It was covered in wonderful decorations: glass balls, stripy red candy canes, tinsel, colourful lights, and a beautiful angel tied to the top. She had lovely golden wings and a wand with a little silver star. We all stared up at our finished masterpiece.

"Great job, lads," I remarked.

"Not bad, McCartney," John said, giving Paul a playful shove. "You did a nice job hanging those fiddly little ornaments."

"Thanks," said Paul. He glanced at the length of tinsel that was wrapped around the tree like a long, sparkly snake. "The tinsel looks nice, too."

John, Paul and I weren't the only ones making a huge fuss of the tree. Baby Serenity was crowing with delight at all the glittery ornaments adorning the tree. She especially liked the angel on top. George was carrying her around the tree so she could get a proper view. Serenity waved her tiny starfish hands around, reaching out and trying to take hold of the angel topping the tree, cheeping like a little bird.

"Yes, darling, the fairy!" George gushed, whirling Serenity around as if she had fairy wings and was flying through the air. "Shall we make a special fairy wish, Reeny?"

John rolled his eyes. "Honestly, George, you're such a soft serve."

George didn't bother listening to him and continued dancing around the tree, Serenity bouncing in his arms and squealing delightedly.

"Leave them be, John," I said. "George has been really bummed out lately. Let him have a small bit of happiness. Don't spoil it for him."

"Fine," John grumbled, "but if he starts making goo-goo eyes and talking all silly and soft, then I'm going to do a lot more than spoil things for him."

Luckily for us, John didn't have to take his anger and annoyance out on anyone. George was still in a bubbly mood hours after we'd set up the Christmas tree. He and Serenity stayed circling it for a long time. He let her take hold of a few of the less delicate ornaments and tinker with them. Paul and I watched from the sofa, great big mugs of hot chocolate clasped in our hands.

"I can't blame George for acting like such a prune," I remarked, sipping my drink.

"I can't either," said Paul. "He's hard such a hard time lately, poor lad."

"And it's going to be Reeny's first Christmas. That's something to get excited about."

"I suppose so." Paul took a long swig of his hot chocolate. "Ringo?"

"Yeah?"

"How are things going with you and Rhiannon?"

I hesitated. This was a trying question and I knew it.

"Things are fine," I said eventually. "I don't think I'll be seeing Rhiannon an awful lot, though."

"Why's that?" Paul asked.

"Well." I bit my lower lip, trying desperately to form a sentence, but my thoughts were whizzing around in my mind like a miniature hurricane. "Well," I repeated.

"Well, what?" said Paul impatiently.

"Well, you guys are all so upset and miserable. I hate seeing you lot like that, so it seems kind of pointless for me to be happy while you're all so unhappy."

Paul's annoyed expression suddenly melted away and morphed into a sympathetic stare. He reached out and patter my elbow. "Ringo, I know you mean well, but you don't have to give up your happiness just because we're a bit down in the dumps."

"But I do, Paul," I protested. "It's the only way I can fix things."

"I mean it, Ringo. Everything is fine with me, John and George."

"You don't seem fine." 

Paul smiled wanly. "We're tough. I think we'll survive."

I thought about it for a moment, then shook my head. "No, Paul. I'd feel much too guilty if my relationship with Rhiannon continued. You guys are my best friends. I want all of you to be happy."

"Oh, Ringo," Paul said, sounding touched. "Thank you."

"It's nothing, Paulie."

"It's something! You're giving up your happiness just for a scruffy bunch of Scousers like us? Just to make us happy? That's not nothing, Ringo. It's a very kind act."

"It's the least I can do," I said, blushing bright red.

"It's a wonderful gesture," Paul insisted, then added softly, "Everyone deserves a friend as kind and caring as you, Ringo."