*3 months later*
"I think we should end this session here," everyone looked up at me like like I was crazy.
"Paul," Ringo cocked his brow, "You usually want us to stay longer..."
"I know," I questioned myself, "I just feel like something's gonna happen. I mean Nancy is nine months pregnant..." I trailed off.
Almost ironically the phone began to rang.
"Hullo? John 'ere," John picked it up.
"Oh- uh- of course. Yes, I already know the hospital! Paul," John turned to me, "It's time."
I only stood where I was. My eyes were as wide as saucers, and I felt like I couldn't move. John walked over and took my bass off me.
"I- I'm coming!" I seemed to have yelled. I snapped out of my trance. John stared at me for a second and then dragged me away.
It was bright and sunny out. Perfect. It was almost as if Mother Nature knew what was happening. John and I were running like mad to the car.
"You'd better drive," John got in the passenger's seat and slammed the door. I sped off to the hospital. We knew the one. St. Judge's. Funny right? Hey Jude. St. Jude...
We rushed into the front doors of the hospital and emidiatley heard the chatter, the gasps, the movements.
"Have you had a Nancy-," I was emidiatley cut off by the receptionist.
"A pregnant lady?" I nodded, "She requested a Mr. Lennon and McCartney be taken to her room once the birth was over, she pointed to chairs for us to sit in, "It should be a while. Her report says that her contractions just ended."
We went and sat down. I was trying as hard as possible to advert my eyes from all the stares. Seconds soon turned into awkward minutes.
A young boy in a blue robe cane out with his head down. His arm was in a cast and he seemed to be getting some of those required exercises in. His head shot up and he emidiatley ran over to us.
"Philip!" A woman whom I'm guessing was his mother yelled.
"Hi mister. I love your song Jet!" he then turned to John, "And I love your song Gimme Some Truth, it reminds me of my principal," his accent was strong. His voice was high.
John smiled, "Well, how old are ye'?" The kid's smile got wider by the second.
"I just turned ten! I broke my arm on my birthday from falling out of my tree..." John whipped out a sharper and signed the cast, I did so as well. "Are you guys hurt?"
"No," I said, "we're just waiting to meet someone," his mother budged in.
"I am so sorry. I hope he didn't bother you."
"No, not at all. Hey, we can join him on his walk if you'd like," I smiled and John nodded.
"Yeah...you look tired," John leaned forward and the lady backed up a little in surprise.
"Well, I was up with him all night," the lady looked down. We needed something to do with our time. Giving birth took forever.
"How about this. We'll walk with him for about," John looked at his watch, " thirty minutes and then we'll meet you in the café," the mother smiled wide.
"Thank you so much," she knelt down to her son, " now, no personal questions and be on your best behaviour," she stood back up, " Thank you so much," we nodded and just like that she was off.
Before we knew it ten minutes of walking had easily passed. The boy asked good questions.
"How do you two get over a bad day?"
"Well, I listen to music and spend time outside in the garden," I obviously did something else too, but I don't think that's appropriate to mention to a child. It's open to interpretation.
"I usually write and spend time with Macca," John winked. I rolled my eyes.
"What's your favorite song of all time?"
John pushed his glasses up his nose, "That's a hard one... hm... maybe Stand By Me, how about you Paulie?"
"Put Your Head on My Shoulder," I looked down at the boy to find that he stopped walking.
"I've never heard that one before," oh,yeah.
"Sorry, that's an old one," I looked at my watch, "oh... I guess we have to go now," the boys face dropped.
"Maybe we can eat with you and you're mom," his face instantly lit up after hearing John's comment.
"Whatever you do, don't get the pizza. It's gross," he made a dramatic face and John and I giggled.
"Okay, I'll make sure we won't."
We got down to the cafeteria and found that the place was packed. We look around for maybe two minutes before seeing the kid's mom.
"Oh hi! How was he?" She tilted her head.
"Great," John gave a soft smile.
"Here's your coffee mom," a familiar figure arrived behind her. It was him. The kid who distracted us while we got beaten. John's face turned sour. The kid gasped.
"Hey, say hi to my new friends!" Philip greeted him.
"H-hi. Mom... I-I have to go uhh explain something," his mother looked perplexed as her son walked over and motioned us further away from the table.
"Well?" John stammered.
"I'm sorry. I'm glad I got another chance to say it. I've reported my friends for what happened already," John gave a judgy look.
"You still call them your friends huh?"
"What?" The boy was confused.
"Nothing. We are going to eat with your family so you should prepare yourself to say nothing about what happened. I don't think anyone else should be brought into this." The young man looked down and nodded.
We sat down and ate while answering more questions and exchanging awkward looks with the older son.
"We'd better get going," I said to John.
"Aawww," the boy groaned. He stood up and hugged us as his mother quickly took pictures.
"Thank you for today," she said to us.
"No problem at all. And stay in line," I warmed the boy in a mocking tone.
Here we were. Back out in the lobby waiting and waiting. I was now standing for my bum hurt. John was reading a magazine as I made funny faces at the staring men, and blew kisses at the women. I was just playing with them. Minutes turned into hours.
"Umm... Mr. Lennon, Mr. McCartney, it was successful and they're ready for you now," we walked back with the nurse and listened to the questionable chatter.
The corridor got longer and longer until we got to the room. They had already cleaned everything and had the baby all dressed up in a white onzie.
"Hi," John said softly.
"We need a name. It's a boy by the way," the nurse softly said. John and I looked at each for a hot second.
"Brian Stuart," we said in unison.
"Brian is the first, Stuart is the middle, and... Lennon and McCartney will be the last," the nurse shrugged and handed us the paper work.
I wrote it all down.
Brian Stuart Lennon-McCartney.
Perfect.
I walked over to Nancy.
"How are you?"
"Good. You?" She let out a heavy breath and looked out the window.
"Great," I began to tear up as John rushed to my side, "I'm so happy. We're so happy," I was full on crying now. And that's when I heard it.
A little groan came from a tiny clear box shaped bed which was held up by a cart like object. John and I walked over to it as Nancy smiled.
"Hi there," John giggled. The Brian squirmed and held tight to my finger. I grasped John's hand.
"So precious," I managed through tears.
"Hold him," Nancy advised.
John picked him up and stared into the eyes that remained shut. His hair was a dark brown and he had the cutest button nose.
"I'll treat you right. I'll spoil ye'," John growled. Nancy chuckled.
John passed Brian over to me.
"Hi there. I'm your daddy, and that's your papa. I know it's confusing, but we'll make it easy for you. We'll make the world spin for you. I'll make the sun shine for you and Papa will make the moon bright for you."
A song in the making.