So, this isn't my first Beatles fanfic (I have more on DeviantArt) but this idea for this story has been eating at my brain for the longest time! Here it is!
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone or anything except Florence Jane Lennon.
"Florence, were you close to your dad?" Cora Corman, an Access Hollywood reporter asked as she held a microphone the size of a watermelon to my face.
What a stupid question! Of course I was close to my father! We didn't know each other for very long but I was sure he loved me like any father would.
"Yes, I was." I replied, hating the way my voice cracked when I said it. Uncle Paul reached over and squeezed my hand reassuringly. He knew how hard this was to talk about for me.
It was only two months ago that my dad had been killed. I was with him at the time, and before I knew it, he was gone. We all lost someone that day. Julian, Sean, and I lost a father. Mom and Yoko lost a husband and an ex she will never forget. Uncle Paul lost his best friend. Uncle George lost a mentor, and Uncle Ringo lost a confidante.
"You were with your father on December the eighth, weren't you?" Cora asked again.
I nodded, trying not to remember everything I saw and heard in detail.
"Tell me your story; from beginning to end. I want to hear it." She said again.
I looked over at my twin, Julian. He nodded, telling me in one gesture that it was alright. Everything was alright.
"Okay," I began. "Here it goes."
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
I remember sitting on the ottoman by the windowsill. I was still at the farm house on the end of the road and it was a clear and gorgeous day.
"Flo," Aunt Maggie began. "What are you doin' hun?"
I turned to see my caretaker since birth. Aunt Maggie was a short woman with bleach blond hair and dazzling green eyes. She was a little plump, but I always said the extra fat made her a better hugger. She pulled up her jean shorts as she entered the living room, carrying a juice box.
"Here sweetie," she said handing me the drink and then sitting down next to me. "So, what are you doin'"
"Nothing." I replied, sucking down the apple juice and playing with the bendy straw.
"The pigs need to be fed, and I was wondering if you'd like to help m-"
She stopped short when we both saw a car pull onto our dirt and gravel driveway. At first, I thought it was Uncle Jim, but the car was too nice and it wasn't a Ford pickup. It was actually a shiny black limo, with tire rims that gleamed in the sunlight.
"Who's that?" I asked, still playing with the straw, but never taking my eyes away from the new car.
"I-I don't know." Aunt Maggie stuttered.
Out of the car came a man in a pressed pin-striped suit. His hair was mud brown and curly. I had no idea who he was, and from the expression on Aunt Maggie's face, neither did she. The man went up our front walk and onto the porch, where he proceeded to ring the doorbell.
Aunt Maggie rushed to the door, telling me to stay where I was in the process.
"Hello, I'm Brian Epstein. Are you Maggie Powell?" he asked as soon as she opened the door.
I immediately thought that this Epstein guy had gotten the wrong girl; Aunt Maggie's last name wasn't Powell, it was Robinson. Wasn't it?
"Uh, yeah. That's me. Can I 'elp you with something?"
Mr. Epstein and Aunt Maggie had the same accent, I noticed. Small world, right? Wrong.
"Actually, yes. You see, a client of mine and his wife are looking for their child. Florence Jane, her name is. Do you, by any chance, live with a ten year old?"
I watched as another man hopped out of the limo and then helped a young woman out as well. She looked like Aunt Maggie. Their hair was the same shade of platinum blond, but the eyes were different. They walked the same, too. It was like Aunt Maggie had a sister.
When they reached the porch, the new man talked in a similar accent.
"Brian, Cyn'll be able to tell us if we found the right Maggie Powell."
The new man and woman moved the man known as Brian aside. The Aunt Maggie imposter gasped and whispered something to the man.
"Cyn?" Aunt Maggie asked, totally stunned to say the least.
"Maggie!" The woman cried and enveloped Aunt Maggie in a tight hug.
I had no idea what was going on. Three other men came out of the car and up the walk, just as Cyn, Brian Epstein, and the other man did. They stopped on the porch, too.
"Come in, come in!" Aunt Maggie cried, gesturing everyone inside for lunch.
I didn't realize how many people there were! Four men with matching haircuts, two women who looked exactly alike, and one other man standing awkwardly to the side. Who were these people and why were they now all looking at me?
"My Florence!" Cyn cried racing through the living room and scooping me up in the tightest hug I've ever received.
She was crying and saying things to me like how much she missed me.
"Um…who are you guys?" I asked, trying my best not to sound rude.
Cyn's smile dropped off of her pretty face. She kneeled down to my height and searched my eyes for a little bit. Her once excited expression turned to sadness in only a half of a second.
"You don't know me do you, sweetheart?"
I slowly shook my head 'no', hoping not to upset her even more. I watched her turn to Aunt Maggie and the others.
"You never told her, Mags? About John and I?" she asked Aunt Maggie.
Aunt Maggie rubbed at the back of her neck while a deep red color flushed her cheeks. What was going on here? What wasn't I told about? Who were these people?
"I kept telling myself that when she reached eleven, I'd tell her. You guys came a year early."
"Better late than never, though. Am I right?" the man with doe eyes said.
The man who came after Brian, John I presumed, kneeled down next to Cyn. He had a straight nose and auburn hair.
"Cyn, it's fine that she doesn't know,"
"No, it isn't fine, John. Florence doesn't know who her parents are!"
My eyes grew as wide as saucers. My parents? Were these two really my parents? Aunt Maggie and Uncle Jim were all I'd ever had, and now I had actual parents?
"You must have the wrong Florence." I reasoned, as scared as I could be.
John ruffled my hair and pulled me into a bear hug that could kill.
"No, kiddo, we got the right Florence Jane."
The man with the doe eyes came over next and pulled me from John's arms and into his. I got a hug from everyone else, too. Even Brian.
Aunt Maggie, still pink from confrontation, lead everyone into the kitchen for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
"I'm sorry I don't have anything nicer to eat." Aunt Maggie began as she placed a plate stacked with PB&J in the center of our wooden kitchen table.
The man I knew as George inhaled sandwiches like a vacuum cleaner does with dust bunnies. I couldn't believe how many sandwiches he could fit in his mouth. Three at the most! Aunt Maggie would have freaked out if I'd done that.
Cyn still looked uneasy as she took a bite of her lunch and watched me.
"So, what are you here for?" Aunt Maggie asked.
Cyn looked at John then back at Aunt Maggie. She put her sandwich down on her plate and looked her sister dead in the eyes.
"John and I want Florence to come back to Liverpool with us." She mumbled quickly.
Aunt Maggie hit her teeth on her coffee mug as she heard this. This obviously startled her as much as it did me.
"You are kiddin', right? You thought you could 'ull the wool over my eyes!"
John looked at Aunt Maggie, too. This wasn't how they expected it to be, I could tell. They thought Aunt Maggie would give up without a fight.
"Jim and I 'ave 'oused this little one since birth! She's like our own baby. Now you want her back?"
Cyn turned her attention fully to her sister, not to me.
"We had an agreement,"
"Your damn right we had an 'greement!" Aunt Maggie yelled.
"Maggie, calm down," John tried to soothe.
I shifted in my seat as the argument got messy.
"Cyn, you're not taking Florence away from me! I've 'ad her for ten years, and I'm not losing her now!"
"She's my daughter! I want her to come home!"
"You gave her up and decided to raise the other one! You can't just swap kids, Cynthia! I thought you 'ere a bright girl!"
The doe eyed man, now known as my Uncle Paul, nudged my arm. He leaned in close to me and whispered in my ear.
"Let's go out and play, hmm?" he asked as he gently helped me out of my seat and to the backdoor.
Once outside, the warm summer breeze ruffled my white t-shirt and shorts; it felt so good to be outside. Uncle Paul was still holding my hand.
"What do you like to do for fun?" he asked releasing his grip and then messing my auburn hair.
"I climb trees," I replied nonchalantly. "My favorite tree is over there."
I pointed to an old apple tree. "Wanna climb with me?"
Paul raced me to the tree and started his decent up it's limbs. I made it to my favorite sitting spot; a thick sturdy branch that produced the prettiest red apples. I plucked one off the branch, shined it on my shirt and gave it to Paul.
"Thank you, love." he said biting into it.
I waited as he chewed his apple. When he swallowed, he turned to me.
"Wanna play pirates?" he asked.
"No, thanks," I replied. "I'd like to know what's going on, though."
Uncle Paul shifted on the branch. I didn't know if it was because he was nervous or uncomfortable on the tree limb.
"You mean with Cyn and John…err….your mummy and daddy?"
I nodded 'yes'.
"Well, it's a long and complicated story, really. Your mum was having two babies and was only allowed to keep one."
"Is it because her Aunt told her she could only have one? I remember when out cat had kittens and I was only allowed to have one."
"Yeah," he said then laughed. "Something like that….So anyway, your mum and dad sent you to America to have a better life. Now, your mum wants you back!"