Too Much Rain, Chapter 34

[yes_2day]

Chapter 34

         “Well, Gerry,” John drawled after a few seconds of silence.  The sound of the slamming door was still echoing in the hallway. “I think it’s time for that advice I asked for.”

         Gerry was dismayed.  He hated to see Paul so upset.  It was one thing to see John charging around slamming doors - so what else was new?  But Paul, who had been so circumspect and careful about his emotions - this was almost tragic in Gerry’s book. 

         “My advice,” he said slowly, “is to stay out of it.  Never get in between brothers.  Just do your best to comfort him, and he might be willing to open up.  But whatever you do, don’t push him…” Gerry was actually cycling his own memories of a time when he’d been in a similar situation.

         Jason interjected, “We’ve both been through this with close relatives.  Some of our relatives have ignored the reality of our relationship, which is hurtful in itself, but others have been outwardly hostile to it.  Gerry’s brother, for example…” He petered out, and grasped Gerry’s hand.  He squeezed it, urging Gerry to continue.  Gerry never spoke of it, but here was a time and a place where he could speak of it, and even possibly do some good as a result.

         “My brother,” Gerry said, “hasn’t spoken to me in over 25 years.  My sister will speak to me, but only if the subject of Jason never comes up.”

         “Gerry, I guess I sort of knew this, but I’d forgotten.  But how close were you to your brother growing up?”

         “Not close.  He’s a bit older than me and was very sporty.  I was always wanting to read books, do magic tricks, and try chemistry experiments.  Meanwhile, he’d be throwing water balloons out the window at unsuspecting pedestrians.”

         John laughed out loud.  “You’re priceless, Ger. You know, the situation’s a little different here.  Paul and Mike have always been very close. Do you think I shouldn’t pump him about what happened?”

         “Most definitely not,” he said firmly.  “I know what he is experiencing.  I remember it well.  It is unspeakably painful to be rejected by your own flesh and blood, and impossible to speak of it.”

         “Amen to that,” Jason whispered, remembering his own painful memories.

         John sighed, and then allowed his head to fall into his hands.  “What a lot of stupid drama over something so natural - people just want to be loved!  I don’t understand why people are so hateful about it.”  John was also hurt on a personal level.  He thought Mike and he were close - a little like brothers.  By rejecting his brother Mike was also rejecting John, and this confused and upset John at a deep level.  But still, he knew this crisis was not his tsuris.  It was Paul’s.  “Thanks for your advice.  If you don’t mind, I think I’m going to go up to him now,” John said, stretching as he stood up.  He hoped that the gift of golden speech would come to him when he was faced with his devastated Paul.  The last thing he wanted to do was make it worse.

         When he opened the bedroom door, he noticed at once that the curtains had been drawn along with the shades, so although it was a bright June morning outside, it was dark and cave-like in the bedroom.  He paused for a moment as he waited for his eyes to grow accustomed to the dark.  Before this had happened, Paul spoke.

         “What do you want John?” His voice was flat and emotionless.

         “I don’t want anything, baby, I just want to be with you right now.”  John’s voice was a gentle sound.  He had moved towards the bed.  Paul was laying facedown in the pillow, but had not put the covers over him.  As John climbed in, he pulled the covers over them both, and then moved over and pulled Paul on to his side, and then spooned him with a forceful hug.  Paul allowed this to happen, but said nothing further.

         John was dying with curiosity to know what happened, but he forced himself to shut up and just hold Paul.  The clock ticked on until about 45 minutes had passed, and John had long since concluded that Paul had fallen asleep. 

         “John?”  The question that broke the silence was very quiet and tentative.

         “Yes, baby?” John asked.  He tried not to sound too curious.

         “My brother is disgusted by me.  He didn’t even want to see me.”  Paul’s voice sounded…broken.

         The words hung in the air for several moments.  John felt tears welling up in his eyes.  His response was to hug Paul even more tightly.   John hated like hell to be the cause of Paul’s pain.  If it weren’t for their love affair, Paul’s relationship with his brother would not be ruined like this. Because of what Gerry and Jason had said about their family members, John was not optimistic about how it would all turn out.  He feared that Paul would be forever excommunicated from his brother.  And what of his larger family?  Would Mike be so spiteful as to tell all the other McCartneys and Mohins about Paul’s love life?  If he did, it ought to be interesting to find out which of the disapproving ones would have the moral fiber to stand up and stop receiving the trust fund monies, and which would pretend not to care in order to remain at the trough.  John knew that he was bitter, but how else was he supposed to react?  His beautiful Paul was being abused by hate and prejudice, and he - John - was the cause of it!

         Paul said nothing more, so John didn’t either.  At least another hour went by.  John was a bit restless and worried, and he did hear the phone ringing downstairs.  He knew that the maid would have arrived by then to clean up the party mess, so perhaps she would answer it.  And this drama couldn’t be fun for Jason and Gerry, he thought.  He hoped they would find something to do for amusement.

*****

         The maid had answered the phone, and it was Linda McCartney on the line.  She wanted to speak to John.  Shyly, the maid approached Gerry and Jason, who remained in the sitting room, quieting trying to read but really worrying about their friends.

         “Excuse me sirs, but it is Mrs. Linda on the line.  She wants to speak to Mr. John or Mr. Paul.”


         Jason and Gerry exchanged a look, and Jason said, “Thanks, I’ll deal with it.”  The maid looked very relieved and went back to the kitchen.  Jason picked up the line closest to him, and when the maid hung up the kitchen line, he said,
       
         “Linda?  This is Jason.”

         “Oh, Jason!” Linda said, relieved.  “I’m so worried about Paul.  He went storming out of here over an hour ago.  I was hoping I could talk to him or John…”

         “John is with Paul right now,” Jason said diplomatically.  “But I will have one of them call you when they are free if you like.”

         “I just want to make sure he’s okay…” Linda responded.

         “Of course.  Gerry and I are here, too, and we will all take good care of him.”

         “Thank you, Jason.  If he needs me, I’m here.  He should just call.”

         “Of course,” Jason answered.

         After he hung up, Jason sat back down, picked up his book, turned a page, and then said calmly to Gerry as if it were an errant thought, “Life with these two is never boring.”

         Gerry chuckled.  “No, it isn’t.  And we both predicted that from the start.”

*****

         John had just about lost his ability to lie still when finally Paul moved.  He gently freed himself from John, and turned over on to his back.  John propped himself up on an elbow, and then placed his hand in his open palm, facing Paul.

         “Pud, how’re ya doin’?”  He asked softly.

         Paul’s eyes did not leave the ceiling.  “There’s nothing to say.  He doesn’t want to be a part of my life, and I guess I’ll just have to get used to it.”

         John thought before he spoke:  for several uninterrupted moments. (This was somewhat of a world’s record for him.)  “You know, babe, there is a possibility that he will come ‘round.  He’s only just found out.  Remember how Neil reacted?  But he came to our party.  He hugged us hello and goodbye.  He may not approve 100% but he still loves us.”

         Paul considered John’s input but then said, “I was thinking about that.  How can you say you love someone and not approve of how they live their life?  What does that even mean?”

         “It means they really don’t understand, is all.   They know they love me, John, and you, Paul, but that is as far as their imagination will take them.”

         Paul rejected this analysis.  “Well, that may be, but it isn’t love.  It isn’t love if you can’t accept and acknowledge the things that mean the most to your brother.”

         John noted that the conversation had suddenly veered from a general discussion of “people” to a specific discussion about Paul’s brother.  He let it go without comment.  If this was how Paul found it easier to talk - in a kind of hypothetical way - then John was willing to engage him on that level.  Whatever worked, works.

         “I guess I’ve always thought there were different kinds of love, and they all count,” John said, dragging the conversation back to the safe world of philosophy.

         “And what kind of love is it that makes a person harden his heart to the people he should love without judgment?”  Paul was still staring at the ceiling as he spoke.

         “I don’t know, baby.  I really don’t.  I just know that all kinds of people express love in different ways, and some of them are negative.  But you and Mike…you have a solid foundation.  You go back decades.   As hard as it is for you to contemplate his possible rejection of you, it will be equally hard for Mike to close you out of his life.  I think you need to be patient, and wait ‘til he comes to you.  He probably has a million questions.”

         “But what if he doesn’t come to me? What if I’m right, and he hates me forever?”  Paul’s eyes looked suspiciously wet to John.  John reflexively brushed the tears away from Paul’s eyelids as they dropped off the lashes.  Then he said,

         “If that happens, we all go on without him in our lives.  Of course, we’ll always be open to him wanting back in, but acknowledging it is his choice.  We have a good life together - you, and me, and Linda, and our children and our friends and band mates.  He’s the one who will be left out of a really good thing, not us.”

*****

         After the maid left, Jason got up to make a late lunch.  It was now almost 2:00 p.m., and he and Gerry couldn’t wait any longer.   There were some leftovers in the fridge (surprisingly little, considering how much food they had started out with), and Jason supposed they’d have to eat that.  Both he and Gerry were hankering after a little meat, but didn’t want to leave the house under the circumstances.  There wasn’t even a hint of meat in the house, of course.  So Jason warmed up enough food for all four of them, hoping the smells of cooking would lure John and Paul down from the bedroom.

         John and Paul did come down while the food was warming, although whether the smell of food was the cause, Jason didn’t know.   John seemed very protective of Paul, and Paul was very subdued.  He had a hard time meeting anyone’s eyes, and immediately planted himself in an easy chair in the sitting room, and stared at his feet.

         “That smells good, thanks Jason,” John said in a forced cheerful voice.

         “Well, you made most of it, John, mainly from your own recipes, so it shouldn’t be a surprise to you!”  Jason answered back, also in a slightly overripe devil-may-care voice.

         In the sitting room, Gerry put his paper down, and managed to catch Paul’s eyes.  He gave Paul a long-suffering look.  He spoke in a soft voice so only Paul could hear.  “They’re a pair of chattering dickie birds, the both of them.”  He then snapped his paper back up, but had seen a brief flash of amusement in Paul’s eyes before he did so.

         A few moments later they were called to the table, and Paul went quietly, along with Gerry who, as they approached the table, put his hand lightly on Paul’s lower back.  It was both subtle and protective.  Paul vaguely noticed it, and felt comforted by it, and faced the food in a slightly better mood.

         “Well,” Jason said.  “About last night.  Are those musician people real?  The way they dress, their hair, their behavior - it is all so improbable!”  John laughed heartily at Jason’s barb, and even Paul couldn’t help chuckling as he envisioned Elton John, wearing shoes with 3” lifts, pearl earrings and necklace, and purple shirt with ballooning sleeves, not to mention Keith…well, Keith looked like a pirate who had been marooned for several decades on a desert island.

         “We are a bit like a bunch of stuffed museum pieces - a kind of homage to the swinging ‘60s,” John opined with a BBC announcer voice.

         “We’re just a bunch of regular blokes, really, just tarted up,” Paul said, surprising all three of them with his unexpected interjection.  “Roger Daltrey golfs, you know, and Mick is quite conservative politically, at least about finance.  It’s just that people expect a certain aura out of us…”

         “Yeah, the ‘aura’ smells like pot,” John added.

         Everyone laughed.  John was feeling better now that Paul seemed to be perking up.  “I was thinking you two have had a bit of a dreary day hanging around all day.  I thought the four of us should go out to have a pub dinner later, and maybe take in a movie or a show?  Shall I see what’s playing?”

         There was mutual agreement to this, although Paul took John aside later.  “This is my night with Linda, you know, so when we get back, I must go to Cavendish to sleep.”

         John’s heart fell.  Oh, yeah. That.  Always that.  ‘To sleep’ my foot!  When would he ever be able to live like normal people do, with their spouse-like person with them every single bloomin’ night?  “Yes, Paul, I know.  It’s a bloody bore, but I do understand.”

         Paul pushed John back against a kitchen cabinet, and leaned in closely.  John could feel Paul’s pelvic area pushing against his.  “Don’t be peevish, Johnny,” Paul said deeply.  “We’ll be together tomorrow night.  You can have a night with Gerry and Jason.”

         “I’m hardly welcome in their bed, Paul,” John remarked with a heavy Northern accent, making Paul chuckle.  “But I’m glad you’re getting back to your usual infuriating self.”
       
         “You know me.  I don’t stay down for long.”  Paul’s eyes were serious now.

         “Well, I’m proud of you for that.  We’ll have a good time this evening, and then you can go home to Linda and have a good shag.  Never mind that I’ll be here, all alone, staring bleakly into the dark…”

         Paul hooted loudly.  “You lie!”  His voice went up to the higher registers.  “You’ll be wanking away at your todger!”

*****

      
       
         The pub they chose was tucked away in a tiny corner of Chelsea.   There was a very subdued crowd there, who weren’t that interested in pop music stars.  John and Paul had discovered it was a great pub to go to with a few friends if they wanted to be left alone in privacy.  Although occasionally a customer might look their way, as soon as they were noticed by the objects of their curiosity they would turn their heads away immediately and not look back.

         Gerry and Jason eagerly ordered roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, but looked apologetically in Paul’s direction while doing so.  Paul decided not to take offense, and to pretend not to notice what they had done.  Instead, he ordered a baked macaroni dish with broccoli, and then turned to John.

         John was sorely tempted by the roast beef, but seeing Paul’s enquiring eyes, he didn’t feel as though he could betray Paul on this important issue so soon after the poor bloke’s devastating run in with his brother.  “I’ll have a baked macaroni with broccoli as well,” he said, causing Paul to look down at his hands and smile.

         Gerry ordered a bottle of red, and after it was opened and poured, they all four leaned in towards each other to talk.  Paul was feeling a little euphoric after the terrible events of the morning.  If his brother couldn’t stand to be near him, at least he had lovers and friends who wanted him around, and enjoyed his company.  The fact that he was on a false high didn’t occur to Paul at the moment, and that was probably a good thing, at least for the night.

         “So, tell us about some of your colorful friends,” Jason said conspiratorially.  “The one with the purple shirt and the slinking little boyfriend…”
       
         John laughed and said, “Elton John.   Surely you’ve heard of Elton John?”  He was met with two blank stares.  “He’s quite famous, you know, ever since the mid ‘70s.  He was trained classically, so the story goes.  Never heard of him?”

         “No, I’m afraid not,” Gerry responded drily.

         “He is in our team, most definitely,” Jason said rhetorically.  “And that egregious young man with him…”  Everyone shrugged in silent agreement that the young man was beyond the pale.

         “I wouldn’t worry about it, Jay,” John said.  “Elton will dump him before you can say boo.”

         “He’s probably already dumped,” Paul added.  His three companions looked up at Paul with surprise.  Paul rarely was guilty of “piling on.”  Paul looked up at the silence, and had no clue why they were all so surprised.  “What?”

         The three men laughed.  “It’s so not ‘you’ Paul, to kick a bloke when he’s down,” John explained.

         “I think I must be in a bit of a bitchy mood tonight,” Paul said, feeling guilty.

         “And good for you!” Jason declared.  “Everyone is entitled to an off day.”

*****

      

         It was close to midnight, and Paul had not come over from John’s house yet.  Linda was waiting in her favorite corner of her favorite sofa in the sitting room.  She was drinking some hot cocoa and hoping against hope that she would hear from Paul soon.  She was quite worried about Paul, and a bit upset that Paul hadn’t called her to tell her when he was going to be home.  She’d spent the whole day worrying.  She had thought about calling Rowena to find out if Mike had said anything further, but she was worried Mike would answer the phone instead of Rowena, and that would be too awkward.  Just as she was checking the mantel clock one more time, Linda heard the sound of the French door being unlocked, and she looked up to see Paul coming in through the door.

         “Paul!  I’ve been so worried!” She cried.

         Paul froze for a second.  Oops! He should have called Linda hours ago.  Jason did tell him.  It had been just such a bewildering day.  His mind was all scrambled.  “Lin, I’m sorry I didn’t call…I’m okay, really.”

         Linda was fully awake now, and stood up and held her arms out for a hug, and Paul walked right into them.  The tight hug went on for a good 20 seconds or so before Linda said,

         “Paul, I am so sorry I started all this.  It was wrong of me to say anything to Mike.  I should have left it to you…”

         Paul was shushing her while he ran comforting fingers through her hair, and periodically he kissed Linda on the top of the head.  “Lin, Lin, it’s okay.  It’s my own fault for being a coward.  I knew Mike was going to behave this way, and I just didn’t want to face it.   I didn’t want the status quo to change.  But I should have known it was inevitable.”

         “What are we going to do about it?”  Linda asked.

         Paul hugged her again, and whispered into her ear, “Nothing.  We’re going to go to bed, we’re going to make love, and we’re going to put the whole mess behind us.”         

         “And Mike?”

         “It’s in his court.  If he wants to see me, talk to me, I will be there.  But I can’t live my life living in misery because he doesn’t approve.  Like John said, we all have a good life, and he’s the one who is missing out.”

         Linda heard the words “like John said,” and a twinge of pain echoed in her heart.  Still, Paul was hers tonight, and she was going to show him how very much she loved him.

*****

 
     
         It was time for Jason and Gerry to leave, and John was very downhearted about it.  He didn’t want them to ever leave, because they were wonderful friends, and were great company for him when Paul was at Cavendish.  But all of his shy attempts to get them to stay longer had fallen on deaf ears.  The two of them heard New York calling, and their luggage was stacked in the hallway awaiting the chauffeur.

         “It feels like you just got here,” John said, downcast.  Paul was still over at Cavendish, but John had called him and told him that Jason and Gerry were leaving.

         “Yes, the time went very quickly,” Jason agreed.  “We will miss you of course.”

         “Will you come see us when we’re on the road?  I’ll send you a list of our dates, but we should at least see each other when we’re in New York.”

         Jason heard the anxiety in John’s voice, and held his arms out to hug him.  He whispered in his ear, “Gerry and I will come to you whenever and wherever you want.  Right now, Gerry has to get back to work, but we’ll be happy to visit you on tour.  Just tell us where and when.”

         Paul suddenly appeared from the back of the house, a little bit out of breath.  Without words he engulfed Gerry in a strong, emotional embrace.  Gerry was surprised by how touched he was.  Their eyes met for a moment and Gerry saw…gratitude…there?  Gerry made his own eyes smile in acknowledgement.  For a brief moment Gerry remembered how much and how long he had distrusted Paul.  And how wrong he’d been.

         Paul then turned and embraced Jason.  “Please have a safe flight,” Paul said to Jason.  “John and I could not bare it if you didn’t.”

         Jason gave Paul a smack on the cheek.  What a dear human being! “I feel safe now,” Jason said, squeezing Paul’s sides with his two hands, “because no airplane will dare crash if it will be a problem for you and John.”

         Paul snickered, and then let go of Jason.  He and John stood on the front stoop waving goodbye to their dear friends, as they got into a limousine.  They didn’t notice the paparazzi snapping a picture of them standing there, waving.

*****

         “So, how was your assignation with La Madame McCartney last night?” John asked snidely, as he handed Paul a beer.  It was late afternoon, and a beer seemed like a good idea.

         “John, Linda doesn’t ask about you…”

         “And I shouldn’t ask about her.  So you’ve said, many a time.  But still, I have questions…”

         Paul sighed heavily.  How fast John’s warm sympathy of yesterday had flown away.  Now John was his usual needy self again. “Yes?”  Paul’s face was a vision in impatience.

         “Does it ever get old to you, Paul?  The back and forth?  Does it have to be so relentlessly 50/50?  Can’t you be here a few days, and then over there, and then back over here?”  John was clearly irritated by Paul’s late arrival today, Paul realized.  And this morning, he’d promised to arrive an hour earlier, so that he could have lunch with Jason and Gerry, but Linda had been so clingy…she hadn’t wanted to let him go…

         “It does get old, yes,” Paul said dully.  “I wish I could think of a better way, but since Linda gets upset if I miss more than a day with her, and you get upset with me if I miss more than a day with you, I haven’t seen a way out of it.  Do you?”  Paul was a bit angry, and his expression was quite indignant.

         John softened, and then chuckled.  “Good for you for taking your own back, baby.  It’s just that it is so hard.  It’s so fucking hard.”

         Paul looked down at his hands as he fought off tears.  “That is exactly what Linda said, before I tore myself away from her to rush over here.   And John…”

         “Yes?”  John felt involuntarily sympathy for Paul at that moment.

         “What about me?  How do you think it feels for me?  I’m never making either of you completely happy, no matter what I do.”

         John sighed heavily and surrendered.  “You’re right, Pud.  I was wrong to complain.  I should have been used to this by now.  It isn’t as though I didn’t know what I was in for.  I volunteered for this life, after all.”    After this pronouncement, John gave Paul one of his wide closed-mouth silly smiles to show the unpleasantness was behind them.

         If only it were that easy for Paul.  He was intensely aware that he had let Linda down by rushing over to John’s house.  And he had let her down the night before by coming home late, without calling her.  And he had let John down by rushing off to Cavendish the morning after the party, and by leaving him to sleep alone after the pub night with Jason and Gerry.  And these were only 2 days’ worth of disappointments.  Paul could remember more than a decade’s worth of disappointments he had dealt to John and Linda over the years.

         And speaking of disappointments… Michael.  He had gravely disappointed his brother by not living up to Mike’s image of him. There was nothing Paul could do about that, because he was hopeless in the face of John Lennon’s love.  As if someone had pushed a button, Paul’s spirits plummeted.  He felt tears building up in his eyes, and was fighting to hide this fact from John, so he averted his gaze.

         John, of course, noticed it immediately.  “What?” He demanded.  “We were only having a healthy debate.  You know I was just venting, right?  I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

         Paul tried to pull himself together.  “I’m not crying,” he lied.

         “You are!  I can see the tears!  I’m sorry I brought the subject up.  It was wrong of me!”

         “I may be crying,” Paul finally answered, “but not because of anything you said.”

         “Then why?” John demanded.

         “I’m a fucking disappointment to everyone I love,” he finally said.  “You, Linda…” Paul’s voice trailed off, but then he added, “…and Mike.”

         The penny dropped for John.  Ah, Mike.  This was all about Mike, really.  John was not really surprised.  He had thought that Paul’s recovery from Mike’s rejection was a bit cursory.  Now he knew that it had been there always, just bubbling under the surface. John knew he had to say something to comfort his lover. “Paul, you haven’t disappointed me, I was just whining.  You know how I am.  You never disappoint me; not ever - even the times I accused you of it, I was just lying.”  John’s voice had become soothing, beseeching.

         Paul’s lugubrious expression almost broke John’s heart, but after a taut moment, Paul’s face relaxed and he presented John with a reassuring smile.  “It’s okay, John, I’ve had a bad few days.  I’m tired.”

         “Then let’s go take an afternoon nap,” John said gently, and took Paul’s hand.  Together they went upstairs to bed.  

*****

         Of course, Paul didn’t really believe John when he’d retracted his complaints about his feelings of disappointment.  Paul knew that John felt it, and felt it often and deeply.  On some of the nights when he was with Linda, he had lain awake knowing that John was across the mews alone and feeling misused.  And the nights when he was with John, sometimes he’d lain awake thinking about Linda…Of course they both felt stinted.  Paul could put himself in either one of their places, and knew that he would have felt the same - filled with jealousy and pain - if he were either of them.  How could he not feel guilty?  But at least he’d known that John and Linda had entered the contract with their eyes wide open.  But Mike…

         John was snoring softly beside him in the late afternoon light, but Paul was awake, thinking about his brother.  I should have told him, right at the start, Paul thought to himself.  It’s all my fault.  But of course, Paul thought next, Mike would have still been disgusted by the truth, even if Paul had told him.  With that thought, Paul felt a throbbing sad echo in the pit of his stomach.  There was no getting away from the fact that he had strayed far away from the family teachings, and thus had earned the enmity of his closest blood relative.  There was no charming his way out of this one.  He would just have to suck it up - all the pain and all the humiliation - and go on as if it none of it affected him.  Paul supposed that he would now be persona non grata in Liverpool, and his family - his larger family - would no doubt be estranged from him from here on out.  There was no other possibility, so there was no other answer.

*****

       
         It was an overcast June morning in the Liverpool suburbs, and in one of them Rowena McCartney was busy feeding the youngest of her sons, who was still in a high chair.  Mike was reading the paper, nursing his coffee, and being as closed off and cranky as he’d been since their return a week ago from London.  Rowena had not raised the subject, because it was clear Mike was not going to entertain it.  He had made it clear that even though she was his wife, she had no business interfering in “family business.”

         Mike was paging through the Echo, and stopped in his tracks at the photograph he saw on page 6: his brother and John Lennon, standing on the stoop of John’s house, waving goodbye to a departing car.  How sweet, he thought snidely, and he slapped the paper shut, and slammed it down on the table, startling both Rowena and their youngest son.

         “It’s disgusting is what it is!  He’s making a bloody fool out of himself, and the whole family!  It’s not fair to Linda and the children!”  Mike’s anger was obviously still at the boiling point.  Rowena was confused by what had triggered it this time.

         “What’s happened?” She asked fearfully.

         Mike pushed the paper across the table to Rowena, without a word.

         Rowena put down the baby’s spoon, and picked up the paper.  She slowly turned the pages until she came to the photograph.  She read the caption:

         “John Lennon and Paul McCartney wave goodbye to friends, two men from New York.”  There were no blatant suggestions, just the coy insinuations.

         Rowena looked up to Mike’s angry face, and felt something snap inside.  “I thought you were a bigger man,” she heard herself saying.

         Mike’s eyes absorbed the shock and then faced her directly.  “What is that supposed to mean?” he growled.

         “It means exactly what it sounds like.  I thought you were a kinder, more sophisticated person.  The kind of person who could see the subtleties in life, including the intricacy of other people’s emotional and sexual needs.  I thought you had a bigger heart - a heart that could love even when it could not understand.”  Rowena knew that she was pushing it a bit far as she spoke, but she could not stop herself.  She needed Mike to snap out of his pout and be the man she believed him to be - the man she married.  She didn’t recognize this prejudiced, resentful man, and had concerns for her marriage if this unrecognizable Mike didn’t vanish soon.

         “Rowena,” Mike responded, sucking back his pain.  “My brother chose to close me out of his life.  I’m only reciprocating the favor.”

         “Mike, please listen to me.  Linda explained to me that Paul was afraid to tell you because he knew you would disapprove.  And you do disapprove.  And here you are, doing exactly what Paul was afraid you would do!  At the very least you owe it to him to let him explain it to you.”

         “What are you worried about, Rowena?  Are you in this marriage for my brother’s money?  Because, if so, he isn’t going to be swayed by anyone sucking up to him!   He is very stubborn that way.”  Mike’s voice was very bitter.

         Rowena was shocked at Mike’s unfounded attack.  She leaned back in her chair, and her hand flew up to her mouth.  Then she stood up and hastily took the baby out of the highchair, and left the room in an angry silence.

         Mike was left sitting there cursing himself and his blasted Irish temper.