⇾𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈𝐈

Chapter Forty-Four: John's Cute Doggies

March 16, 1967

"It's getting very hard to fit into these clothes," I mumbled as John and I got into the car.

"Is it?"

"Yes, it is." I looked down at the black cotton shirt I had on that was hugging my stomach in a very uncomfortably tight manner.

"Maybe we'll have to take care of that too, then," he said teasingly.

I scoffed. "Yeah, maybe." We both laughed.

"So, what are we out to get today?" he asked me.

"New clothes," I said.

"Well, yes," he responded. "What else?"

"I think we should paint the room," I said with a shrug.

"And what color you digging?" he questioned.

I thought a moment. "Maybe blue. A very, very light blue," I mused. "Or maybe just white. Maybe you could draw some things on the wall!"

"Yeah?"

"Yes," I confirmed. "Some dogs or something. Like your drawings for 'The Wrestling Dog' and 'Good Dog Nigel!'"

"But my drawings are kinda shit," he said sheepishly.

"They are not!" I retorted.

"Well, they're silly, then."

"But I think our babies would love them," I persuaded, leaning over the console tauntingly.

"So blue walls and dogs." He sighed vaguely.

"Maybe if we went with white then it would look more spacious in there," I said thoughtfully.

"How about we see when we get to the store!" he offered, turning onto the road that always led us into town.

~~~

I was happy that it had gotten easier for the boys to go out into town without being bombarded. John still always made an honest attempt to hide who he was, but for the most part, people seemed to be more respectful of them now.

As we walked around the aisle of paint in the store were in, we studied them each carefully. Finally, he picked up a little card with a color on it and held it up. The blue he had found was so faint that it almost just looked white.

"You said you liked blue and white, so how about we just combine the two?" he asked with an ear-to-ear grin. I took the card out of his hand and examined it carefully for a few fleeting moments before deciding I liked it.

"Now, let's find a color for your cute doggies," I teased.

"I think we should do brown," he said, coming up beside me as I turned around again.

"Hmmm, yes," I agreed. "But a darker brown. This color is light, so a dark color would contrast more."

"Er—yes, I do believe it would."

"Oh, come off it. You know it would." I shoved him in the side teasingly.

We fell quiet a few moments as we both searched the colors for a variety of different browns that we could choose from. After a minute, we turned to one another and began to sift through what we'd found.

John studied each one intensely as if he were very content on picking the perfect one, which didn't really surprise me.

"I like this one," he said finally, pointing to a dark, chestnut brown that was in my hand.

"I do too," I agreed.

"That it, then?" he asked me.

"For this store," I responded tauntingly.

"Right," he said. "New clothes."

"Ding, ding, ding, you win! Let's get the paint and head on out."

"That we should do!" he said, taking my hand and leading me off.

~~~

"When we gonna paint?" John asked me as I settled on the couch next to him. I'd changed out of what I'd worn today, instead stealing one of John's t-shirts and some leggings. It was way more comfortable than anything I owned anyway.

As I sat down, I saw his eyes wander up and down my body. "Comfy now?" he asked.

I settled back in the couch and nodded. "Yes, very."

"And what would you like to do this evening?" he further questioned.

"Eat and watch TV," I answered honestly.

He shrugged. "That's not a bad idea. Now, the paint?"

"Ah, I suppose once you wrap up this album. That should be soon, right?"

"Should be within the next two weeks," he confirmed.

"Well, that should be perfect, then, right?"

He nodded, smiling. "Yes, it should be. We can finish an album and then I can paint some dogs on the walls," he said with a teasing grin.

"Yes. Yes, you can."

"Now," he said, standing up. "What should we have for dinner?"

"Hmmm." I studied my appetite for a moment, then finally spoke up. "Chicken," I said. "And shrimp."

"That's...an odd combination."

"Well, you asked," I said with a shrug. "And I answered."

"Right...do you even like shrimp?"

"No," I admitted. "But I want it."

"Right, okay, so."

"Buuut," I said innocently as he turned to go into the kitchen. He turned back around. "I don't think we have chicken or shrimp."

The left side of his mouth turned upward. "Well, I guess I'll have to go and get it, won't I?"

"Pleeease?" Boots hopped up onto the couch and curled up on my lap.

I gave John my best puppy dog eyes and after a moment, he sighed. "Oh, alright," he said finally. "But only because I looove you."

"Thank you," I cooed. He leaned down to kiss me on the lips. "And I looove you too."

"Oh, yes, darling, I'm aware," he said teasingly before picking up his keys and waving to me as he left the house. "I'll be back as soon as possible!"

I sat Boots aside and stood to turn the TV on. I flipped through some channels until I landed on the bare end of West Side Story. I returned to the couch and sat down, watching the movie. John stepped into the house just as it was ending. I was curled into the blankets, crying over the ending.

"Donna?" John asked tentatively as he sat down next to me with a bag in his hand.

"They're dead," I said sadly. "They died."

The credits began to roll and I looked over at him with tears in my eyes. "That was sad," I said simply. "Can I have my food? It'll make me feel better."

He laughed and handed the bag over.