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CHAPTER ONE
They got the latest scan results on Tuesday. Today was Saturday, and the kids and their families would be here soon. John sat at the kitchen table with a cup of steaming tea in hand. He took a sip and sighed as he relished the feeling of the warm liquid running down his throat. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his gray hair, leaning back and thinking about how he would go about composing himself for the kids and for Paul. He knew Paul wanted today to be a happy day, filled with gratitude and warm memories of the lives they had all lived. John’s heart twisted as he considered how lucky he was to have lived this life. This life with his beautiful children, his music, his friends… his Paul. He allowed himself a moment to let tears fall and sadness fill his heart. Then he took a deep breath and made a second cup to bring up to Paul.
Paul and John found out about the cancer over a year ago. Paul was having stomach pains and just seemed really worn out. One might think fatigue was a normal thing for an 80-year-old grandpa, but Paul still had the same spirit and most of the same energy as he did when they were just young boys back in Hamburg playing their hearts out every night at the clubs. John, these days, often found he had a hard time keeping up with him. They decided to go to the doctor and have some tests done, and when the blood work came back suspicious, scans were done. A day later, it was confirmed. Cancer of the stomach. Paul held it together impressively well in the doctor’s office- John was a mess. The doctor informed them it was very early, and he had options. After John and Paul talked about it for a week and informed the kids, they decided that they would just monitor it. The doctor had said it could progress slowly, and Paul could have years still even without any treatment. Paul had to practically beg John when he told him he didn’t want to go forward with chemo. He wanted to live the rest of his life comfortably and happily. Once John understood, that’s what they had done. Paul stopped touring and spent every day with John, traveling and seeing the kids, grandkids, and, of course, Geo and Ringo. They were happy, and Paul’s symptoms were extremely manageable. But, when Paul had to go in for his most recent monthly scans, he knew they weren’t going to be good results. He had been getting sick nearly every day, his pain was increasing, and he was having dizzy spells. He didn’t tell John, knowing he would worry himself sick. But, as they sat in that same office a little over a year later with the same doctor, John was surprisingly calm as they found out the cancer had spread throughout Paul’s body and it would likely be very soon. Hearing it out loud seemed to give Paul’s body permission to show the extent of its illness. The next day, he was too weak to leave the house and higher dose painkillers were prescribed to keep him comfortable. That’s when they called the kids to ask them to come and say goodbye, George and Ringo, too.
John entered the master bedroom and leaned against the doorframe watching Paul sleep. His love. His only. The morning light was peering in through the sheer curtains on the window, casting a glow around his husband. To John, he was just as beautiful as the day they met. His heart swelled with overwhelming love for the man that lay before him (not for the first time), and he had to run a finger under his eye as a tear sneaked out. He padded across the room to the bed and sat on the edge, placing the cuppa on the nightstand. He stroked his hand through Paul’s hair. It was long and gray, but still thick as ever (the same could not be said for John) and it curled at the ends just above his shoulders. Paul turned his head towards John and blinked his eyes open a few times. As John came into his view, Paul’s eyes softened and a smile curled at his lips. “Good morning, love” Paul rasped voice heavy with sleep. John smiled, trying to respond, but the words were caught in his throat and tears welled in his eyes as he continued to run his hand through Paul’s hair. He knew he couldn’t get any words out so he smiled back at him, and as his eyes creased, two tears escaped. “C’mon now, none of that, love,” Paul reached his hand up and wiped John’s tears. “Sorry, love” John pushed the words out of his throat and leaned down to meet his lips to Paul’s. “I brought you tea, and it’s time for your morning meds,” John’s hand returned to Paul’s hair. “The kids should be here in an hour or so, wanna get washed up a bit?” John questioned. “I smell that bad, huh?” Paul quipped while jokingly furrowing his brow at John. Well, at least his humor is still intact. John merely rolled his eyes in response but a genuine smile grew across his face. Paul was still the man he fell in love with over 60 years ago. He kissed him again, and this time, Paul grabbed John’s hand and squeezed it three times as he always did to signify ‘I love you'. John squeezed back, repeating the rhythm.
After Paul managed some sips of tea and his meds, John helped him to the bathroom to clean up. He was too weak to take a proper bath or shower, but John wiped him down with a cloth and freshened him up well enough. John got him ready to go back to bed, but Paul stopped. “What’s the matter, love? You gonna be sick?” John questioned trying not to sound too worried. “No, no I’m okay. I want to go down to the parlor,” Paul said the words while panting a bit from already being on his feet too long. “Darling, I think it’s best we stay in bed. The stairs might be too much,” John tried lovingly to convince him. “No, John. I want to spend the day with the kids and the grandkids downstairs. I want to see the kids play. I want to sit up. I want to laugh. Please, Johnny… please,” Paul begged. The last bit came as a whisper. John pressed a kiss into Paul’s hair just above his ear. “Alright, love. You know I could never say ‘no’ to you,” John mumbled into Paul’s hair. “Let’s get you downstairs then.”
A bit later they were nestled together on the couch. Paul had an afghan across his lap, and John’s head lay in his lap. John was going to get up and make tea for the kids, as they would be there any moment, but Paul had stopped him and gestured for him to put his head in his lap. John hesitated in fear he would hurt him but Paul insisted. He wanted to comfort him as he always had throughout the years, and John was not going to miss any opportunities to be intimate with his love, knowing the remaining time was scarce. Paul ran his fingers through John’s hair, his fingers working on the muscle memory of many years, and his head laid against the back of the couch with his eyes shut. There was silence as they breathed in time with each other. It was a peaceful silence. They didn’t need words after all these years as their presence spoke volumes that they had learned to interpret over time. John’s thumb rubbed Paul’s knee as he rested his hand on him, cherishing the moment. Then, a knock at the front door came. John sat up and pressed a kiss to Paul’s lips, ever so gently, in a way that was so intimate and could only come from having spent your life with the person who was your whole world. “Kids are here, I’ll go get them,” John smiled. Paul nodded and John stood up to go answer the door but stopped when Paul grabbed his wrist, “remember, love, I want this to be happy,” Paul winked at John and smiled. John leaned down for another kiss on Paul’s forehead, his old knees protesting at the movement, but John paid them no mind.
John opened the door, and his daughters, Mary and Stella, stood on the porch. Stella was holding the youngest of the grandchildren, Sophie, in her arms. She was fast asleep with her head on her mum’s chest. She was just over two years old and car rides still lulled her to sleep. John smiled at the sight, remembering how that had once been Stella in his arms. He pulled Mary into a hug, running his hand up and down her back and hissing her head. “Hi, dad,” Mary smiled, pulling back. There were already tears streaming down her face. John went in to hug Stella, repeating the process and kissing Sophie too. “Girls, your father has asked me, well threatened really, that this will be a happy occasion” John huffed a small laugh at his husband’s ability to still be stern and command those around him. “Take a moment, but try not to get too watery when you come in.” John smiled at his girls. He said it with such love, they knew he had no anger behind his words. They nodded and wiped the tears from their eyes. “The boys are just grabbing lunch from the car. They should be in in a minute,” Stella informed John, stepping into the home. Stella was married with two kids, Winston (8 years old) and Sophie (2 years old). Mary had three boys with her husband, Mark. They were older, James (16 years old), Martin (13 years old), and Thomas (11 years old). “Dad’s in the front parlor. He insisted on being down here to visit, stubborn git,” John smiled and gestured towards the room. The family had been to the farm in Scotland many times, the girls and Julian spending much of their young lives there. Mary and Stella made their way into the room while John waited at the door for the boys to come in.
Mary and Stella walked into the room, seeing Paul on the couch. He turned and smiled up at them with so much love and endearment behind his eyes. His children and John were his whole world. The best thing he ever did. He could never compare them to his music, it would be them every time. “My girls!” Paul smiled, opening his arms for them to hug him. Mary walked over first and sat down on the couch, leaning into her father’s embrace. “Hi, dad,” she said into his chest, warmly. The embrace filled her with love just as it always had as far back as she could remember. She kissed him on the cheek. “Stella, love, so glad you’re here,” Paul looked up at her. She already had tears brimming in her eyes, but leaned down nonetheless with Sophie still fast asleep in her arms and gave her father a kiss. “Hi, pop, I’m so glad to be here,” She replied with a smile. “Let me see that little girl,” Paul gestured to Sophie and Stella placed her into his lap. Sophie barely even stirred, just turning her head into her grandpa’s chest and letting her lips part as she fell deeper into sleep. “She sleeps just as hard as you did when you were her age,” Paul smiled down at the child referring to her mother. He turned his head to look at Mary, “You, however, were not an easy one when it came to sleep,” He tutted at her, smiling. “Always woke Julesy up with you, too.” He wagged his finger at her pretending to scold her, and she smiled back, knowing there wasn’t even an ounce of frustration behind his eyes, only love. Then the rest of the boys filed into the room too. First Mark followed by two of his three boys, then Carter, Stella’s husband, with their son, Winston, holding his hand. Finally, followed by John and the eldest grandchild, James. “Granddude!” A chorus of boys shouted, carefully, stepping forward to hug Paul. “H-hey, boys!” Paul laughed, hugging each of his grandsons with his free arm, while the other still held his only granddaughter. “Mark.. Carter, how are you, lads? Treating my girls well, I hope,” Paul greeted them, knowing they took the best care of his daughters and grandchildren. They both stepped forward to hug Paul, “Hey, dad. Good to see you,” Mark said. “Wouldn’t dream of doing these girls wrong or you’d have my head!” Carter joked, straightening back up from the hug. Paul and John had a very good relationship with their sons-in-law, and Christine, Julian’s wife, too. “Just saw Christine texted the family group chat, they should be pulling up any minute now,” Carter informed the room. Paul hummed and nodded, his heart warm with the presence of his family. Mark and Carter pulled chairs to join the family, while John took a seat on the other side of Paul, his hand making its way into Sophie's hair stroking as it had all of his children's.
Soon, Julian and Christine did show, making their way in and greeting their parents, siblings, and niece and nephews. Julian and Christine never had kids, which didn’t really surprise Paul or John. Jules was always busy traveling and working. He made music, like his fathers, and did a lot of photography as well. Mary had made a name for herself as a chef. She had her own cooking series, cookbooks, and line of kitchenware. Paul knew she got her skills in the kitchen from John and not him, though he could make some damn good mashed potatoes on Thanksgiving. Stella was a fashion designer and photographer. She had done extremely well for herself and was now one of the leading designers in the fashion industry with animal-free products and sustainable materials. Paul and John were so incredibly proud of all three of their children. They all worked hard and kept their feet on the ground through it all. John knew that had come from Paul.
After greetings were over, Stella got up and made tea for everyone and once everyone had a cup and was settled back into the living room, they all knew the stories and memories were about to commence.