⇾𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈𝐈

Chapter Eighty-Seven: 'I'm Next,' Said the Master Puker

Luckily for you guys, it's looking like this is going to be the longest book in this series :,)

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August 18, 1967

John's POV

"George, are you out of your fucking mind? These babies could pop out at any time and you want me to fly to India?" I asked incredulously, staring at George with the most irritatedly shocked expression I could manage. "You do realize Donna is thirty-six weeks pregnant and our doctor is telling us the babies could come any day, right?"

George plucked each of his guitar strings and tuned them up. "So, that's a no?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes and the back door opened behind us. "You're an idiot if you think I'll do that," I told him.

"I brought lemonade," I heard Donna say and I turned around to see her coming towards us with a tray. I sat my guitar aside and stood up to help her. "Whatcha talkin' about?" she asked. She wobbled down the stairs and seated herself on our swing where she began to swing back and forth slowly.

"George over here had the bright idea of securing us a trip to Wales," I responded, sitting back down on the top stair and taking a sip of the lemonade Donna and brought out for us.

Donna thought for a moment. "That so?"

I frowned. I knew that look in her eyes. "Oh, no," I said. "You're not suggesting I actually listen to this imbecile, do you?" I asked.

She shrugged. "A few days wouldn't hurt," she suggested with a sly smile.

My mouth fell open, but it quickly closed again as I shook my head. "Absolutely not." I looked between them and they were still staring at me. "S...stop looking at me like that! I'm not doing it. I'm gonna stay right here and we're going to get my damn children out of my wife."

Donna sat back against the swing, taking a drink of her lemonade and giving herself another push. Meanwhile, I sat my cup aside and pulled my guitar back across my lap. Still, no one spoke. Donna swirled her straw around in her cup and for a moment, the sound of the ice clinking against the side of the cup was the only sound I could hear.

"I'm not doing it," I said again.

Donna looked up to meet my eyes with a frown. "Well, why not?"

I widened my eyes. "Why not?"

"I've still got a month until I'm due," she reminded me.

"You know, John, it could be a nice getaway to help you before the babies come. You only have to stay a few days," added George. It was two against one. I had a feeling I was going to lose, but there was no way I was going down without a fight.

"God, you're both terrible," I said, strumming some random chords on my guitar. "I said no."

"But I know you want to," Donna droned provocatively. I looked up and saw her grinning sweetly at me. "George is right. It could be good. You can clear your mind a bit. Get a little bit calmed down."

"What day are you even going, George?" I asked irritatedly.

"Maharishi Yogi is having a lecture on the 24th at the Hilton Hotel," George explained. "Pattie and I are going with Jane and Paul. We'd love for you to come along too."

I looked at Donna hopelessly. She put her hands up. "Well, I'm not going, but that's not stopping you!"

I sighed and picked my cup back up to take another drink of my lemonade. "You're so fucking frustrating sometimes," I said. "Both of you. Hell, Paul and Ringo too!"