The lads told me they weren't happy with how things worked out with the girls. This put me in a rather awkward position. I was completely infatuated with Rhiannon and I wanted to be with her more than anything, but knowing the other lads were miserable made me feel awful. It wasn't fair for me to have all the happiness and leave them with nothing. I had to do something.
I arrived home from another perfect date with Rhiannon. I was met with an extremely sorry sight. John, Paul and George were lying around the living room, looking dejected. The only hint of a smile that I could see belonged to baby Serenity, who was being bounced on her father's knee. Other than that, not one glimmer of happiness was visible. It made my heart sink in my chest. I hate seeing people unhappy.
"Hi, lads," I said brightly, wandering into the room. "What's up?"
"I don't want to see Jodie anymore," John spoke up.
"I made a fool of myself in front of Polly," Paul added.
"And Gina dumped me over the phone," George said, concluding the topic.
"Oh." I stood there awkwardly, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. No one spoke for a few seconds, simply adding to the uncomfortable atmosphere of the situation. I cleared my throat several times before saying, "I saw Rhiannon again today."
There was a loud, unanimous groan. My heart sank further until it was practically on top of my stomach. I began to worry about what might happen if I said something else wrong. Would the lads get so angry that they'd hurt me? I hoped and prayed it wouldn't come to that.
"What do you guys want to do?" I asked delicately.
"Oh, I don't know," John said, lying face down on the couch. He sighed theatrically. "How am I meant to go on with a broken heart, wounded pride and squashed genitals?"
"Oh, shut up, you drama queen," Paul said scornfully. "At least you didn't look like an utter dunce and pervert in front of the girl of your dreams! I still cringe thinking about what happened!"
"What happened exactly?" I asked.
"I'd rather not say," Paul murmured, shuddering.
A hush fell over the room. I was desperate to lighten the atmosphere in some way, but everything I said seemed to upset the lads. I glanced around wildly for inspiration. Something tall and green was standing in a corner of the living room. It gave me an idea.
"You know what, lads?" I said.
"What?" answered three melancholy voices.
"Did you know it's going to be Christmas in a week or two?"
This caught their attention. George stopped feeding Serenity and let the teat of the bottle fall out of her mouth, making her cry. Paul's mouth fell so far open that his jaw nearly touched the carpet. John glanced up at me in absolute shock.
"It can't be!" he cried. "It's only November!"
"Nonsense," I replied. "We've been so distracted by our new found relationships that we completely lost track of what day it was! And if I'm not mistaken, it'll be Christmas sometime next week!"
I strolled over to the tall, green thing in the corner - our Christmas tree. We had set it up during the end of November (because Paul likes to do things early) and left it without decorations for days. The girls came into our lives in such a rush that we became sidetracked. The tree looked awfully sad and bare standing slightly slumped in the corner.
"Do you guys think we should do something?" I asked.
I hoped they would all say yes. Not only was it a ploy to get their minds off of the girls, I also really wanted to decorate the tree. I love Christmas more than anything. This idea seemed to cheer the lads up. They heaved themselves out of their seats and began dashing around.
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."