July

Five

July 8th

            Paul walked downstairs groggily, wearing only pants and no shirt. It was a house rule, enforced by the two boys, that since they were “all men” in the house, they could go around with only the bare minimum of clothing.

            Paul settled into the table, and saw, to his surprise, that Mike hadn’t rushed off to go out yet, and was sitting at the table in his usual spot, casting a bleary eye at the morning news as he munched on some toast.

            “There’s been a call for you,” Jim announced, clearing his voice. Paul raised an eyebrow. Maybe it was George. Shit, he’d totally forgotten to call him after the…date. Paul felt a headache buzz in his forehead.

            “Who?” Paul asked shortly.

            “John Lennon,” Jim said, and Mike’s head snapped up then.

            “It’s true, then,” he said wondrously. Paul reached over him and gave him a whack on the head, leading Mike to shake the entire table and Paul to spill some coffee as they tried to hit each other, all while Jim shouted at them.

            “Mike! Paul! Stop it!” Jim thundered.

            They shot each other dirty looks and Paul wiped some coffee off his arm before chewing on his toast again. Jim exhaled slowly, the crisis having been averted.

            “Where were you last night, brother dear?” Mike said, in a falsely sweet way. Paul drew himself up to his full height. This was blackmail and he knew it.

            “I was out,” he said shortly.

            “Really,” Mike said.

            Now Jim was listening intently, peering at Paul.

            “Were you with that girl?” Jim prodded.

            “Judy. Yes,” Paul said, stabbing at his toast unnecessarily.

            “Have you finally got a girlfriend?” Mike asked, and all hell broke loose; Paul spitting out curses and pushing Mike out of his chair while the younger boy only laughed.

            “Stop it! I will not tolerate this!” The eldest McCartney had gotten up, and was looking at the two of them like he was wishing they’d spontaneously combust. Both brothers got up slowly, getting back into their seats.

            “Is she your girlfriend?” Jim asked anxiously, unable to leave to topic alone.

            “No,” Paul said, shrugging. He looked over at Mike. “What about you? Have you got a girl?”