Once I had entered my room, I picked up the phone to call Yvonne. The Beatles heard me dialing, and, one by one, filed into the room.
"Who's that you're callin', then?" asked John, obviously curious.
"The police, to put a restraining order on you," I retorted, as serious as I could be.
"Ha ha."
"I'm calling Yvonne, if you must know," I said. All of a sudden, John's eyes widened at me.
"Ohhhhh...is she the girl who came before?"
"Yes."
"Invite her over again!"
"John, it's almost a two hour drive for her..." then again, though, who could refuse an invitation from John Lennon? Yvonne picked up the phone on the other end.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Yve, it's me."
"Oh, hi, Penny!"
"Hi!" It was funny to be talking with someone who didn't have an English accent again.
"HI YVONNE!!!!" yelled the Beatles from behind me.
"Omygod!" she shrieked in my ear, "that's THEM!"
"Yeah."
"Wow. Wow......anyway, geez, I interrupted you, didn't I? What's up?"
"Well, originally I was just calling to say hi, but now it turns out that a certain Mr. Lennon would like you to drop by again. I told him that it was a long drive---" But Yvonne was already gasping.
"John LENNON wants me to come over?" she squeaked out.
"Mm-hmm! Maybe tomorrow, because Patti and Cyn are going home then, and it won't be as hectic."
"Great! I'll come to the hotel and meet you in the lobby, okay? At.....around noon?"
"Sounds gear!"
"Gear?"
"The Beatles say it all the time. I think it means 'terrific'."
"Oh! Gear!"
"Yvonne?"
"Yeah?"
"Look, I have to tell you something..." here I lowered my voice... "so be prepared to talk."
"Okay, sure. Are you all right?"
"Oh, fine! Yes, I'm fine. Wear something eye-catching when you come here tomorrow, 'kay? John wants you to." I looked at John, and he was smiling slyly, one eyebrow cocked. I stuck my tongue out at him and he chuckled.
"Penny..."
"Yeah?"
"I know we both like Paul..." Da-DUM.
"Mm-hmm," I said cautiously, trying to think of a way to escape what I thought she was going to ask.
"But I think I might love John."
"No WAY!" Behind me, the Beatles jumped. I cupped the receiver in my hand. "Sorry, guys." They rolled their eyes.
"Yes way. What should I do?" I shooed the Beatles out of the room. They protested, laughing, but did as they were ordered.
"Well, rule one: never be afraid to say what you think. John loves that. Rule two: he's perverted. Be prepared. Rule three: he was the one that asked you here in thte first place, remember, so he must like you!"
"Oh, wow. I don't believe this."
"Come ready to have fun!"
"I will!"
"Bye!"
"See ya soon!"
I hung up the phone, and went back out into the main room, where the Beatles were seated again, John with a guitar, eyes fixated on the movement of his left hand on its neck.
"John, can you be serious for just one minute?" I broke the silence with." He looked up at me, surprised. Certainly that was not what he had been expecting me to say.
"What's wrong?" He seemed sincere, so I pressed on.
"John, I never promised Yvonne that I wouldn't tell you this, so for her I'm going to. John, she has a huge crush on you. And I mean a huge one." Following this sentence spoken by me was the first time that I had ever seen John blush with pleasure. "She doesn't know you that well, and I just wanted to ask you to be, well, nice to her." John looked genuinely hurt.
"You think that I wouldn't be?"
"Oh, geez. I didn't mean in that way. I mean...she's eighteen...not much older than me...you know what I'm saying?" John nodded, he was quite serious now. All of the others, particularly Paul, were looking at John's expression, obviously wanting to know his reaction. "Please don't lead her on, or hurt her. She doesn't know what to expect."
"I wouldn't ever hurt her," John said softly. His eyes traveled off into the distance. All of a sudden, everything clicked.
"Ah-HA!" I said, starting to laugh, "you like her too!" John's eyes snapped up to meet my own. Menacingly, he got to his feet.
"The secret is out, fellow countrymen. Should we let her live?"
"YES, YOUR HONOR!"
"Aww, you're no fun." John sat down; the conversation was obviously through from his point of view. Relieved, I started to head back into my room and pick up my money to go out to lunch.
"Penny?" John said to me right before I reached my door. I turned around with a questioning look in my eye, preparing myself subconsciously for a snide remark. None came. "Penny, you're a good friend."
It was the nicest thing that he had ever said to me, possibly anyone else as well, because it was so meaningful. I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, and so I wouldn't cry in front of John Lennon, like I had said I wouldn't two days before, I left quickly to compose myself in the safety of my hotel room, which still smelled of the familiar scent of Paul's cologne.
Well, Whaddya KNOW? It's the End of Chapter Four! Continue With Chapter Five!!!!