Above Us Only Sky (Paul McCartney/Beatles Fan Fiction)

Chapter 36 - Flying Solo

"This is not a long term solution, you do understand?" Paul stood in the foyer of the cottage in Sussex, a frown marring his boyish features.

"Yes, darling. We'll see you tonight." Marisol looped the soft grey knitted scarf around her husband's neck. "Where did you get this scarf?"

"One of my girls made it for me."

"One of your girls?" She let go of the scarf and arched a brow at him.

"Well, yes, as opposed to one of John's girls or George's, you know."

Marisol arranged her features into a long-suffering look which made him laugh.

"Ma dada," Melody said, holding onto Paul's trousers and grinning up at him. He reached down and lifted the toddler into his arms, swaying gently while she cooed at him and patted his cheek.

"As I was saying, I can't keep racing out to the country night and day to be with you and Mel. I parked the bloody car in the next county over! It's cold enough to be slapping dogs off lampposts. It's blowing a hoolie. Bloody belting it down.  Look love, I understand you needed a respite to sort yourself, but our home is in London."

"Drive safe, sweetheart." Marisol reached around her daughter and pressed a kiss to his frowning lips. "I love you."

She held out her arms to take their daughter but he kept swaying from side to side, ignoring her.

"Christmas is a week away. What am I supposed to tell your family when they all show up with a case of homemade wine or some shit only to find you've gone?"

"We'll figure something out," Marisol said, unwilling to be drawn into an argument as Paul was headed off to work.

"We need to put up a tree and all that shit," Paul said, sounding more exasperated.

"Shiii. Shiii," Melody parroted, almost perfectly.

"Watch your language!" Marisol warned her husband, taking the baby from him over Melody's vigorous protests.

"No! Dada! Want dada!"

"We'll talk about this tonight." Paul pointed a finger close to the end of her nose and Marisol angled her face away. It was beyond annoying when he did that.

"Oh. I almost forgot," Paul said, snapping his fingers. "This came for you."

She turned back to see him pulling a small package out of his overnight bag.

"From the good ole U. S. of A."

"I hope it's not an incendiary device." Marisol shot a skeptical look at the hand addressed parcel.

Paul turned the package over in his hands. "Hmm. I never imagined your Grandma Hadley as the mad bomber type."

In a flash, Marisol set Melody on her feet and grabbed the package out of Paul's hands. She tore at the brown paper, barely registering the kiss Paul dropped on her cheek before he ducked out the door. "We'll talk when I return," he said, letting in a blast of cold air before the door slammed behind him.

"Dada!" Melody wailed, pointing at the door, crocodile tears instantly flooding her round brown eyes.

"Ssh, shh, look sweetie." With the wrapping paper off, Marisol lifted the lid of a small box and pulled out a Lady and the Tramp coloring book. "Lookit baby girl! Grandma Hadley sent you puppies!"

"Buggy," Melody said, taking the book and plopping onto her bottom.

"Puppy," Marisol corrected.

"Buggy," Melody said again, her bottom lip jutting out. She whimpered pitifully, still upset at her daddy's abrupt departure, but Cookie scrambling over to lick her tears away seemed to perk her up. "Ah, buggy."