Author's Note: Happy Monday! Is Sasha going to return to George or John? Leave you answers in the comments!
Something
Chapter 43: I Almost Do
Sasha's POV
December 14, 1965
I saw my childhood friend, Abigail's, curly red hair at the end of the terminal in the airport. I ran toward her and hugged her tight.
"I've missed you so much, girl," she said to me, laughing.
I pulled away from our hug, "I missed you too."
"What happened? You sounded upset on the phone," Abigail said walking with me to get my luggage.
"I'd rather tell you in the car. It's a long story," I told her remembering George's face when I backed out of the driveway.
Once I had my suitcases and we were in Abigail's car headed to my old house, I decided to tell her everything. By the end of the story, we were both crying.
"This reminds me of when we were teenagers, and we would spill our boy problems to each other," I cried, laughing at the same time, reminiscing.
Abigail sighed as she pulled into my driveway, "Things were a lot simpler back then."
We got out of the car and met each other at the front of her car.
"Aren't you going to get your stuff?" Abigail asked me.
I smiled, "No, I'm too excited to see mom."
I started to walk toward the front door, but Abigail stopped me, a sad look on her face, "Listen Sasha, don't get mad. I was going to call you when I found out, but your mom wouldn't let me. She got diagnosed with cancer a few months ago; it was pretty far along when they found it."
I stood there in the cold December air, shocked. This couldn't be happening to me; first, dad dies, then, George and I might be done, and now my mother's dying.
"Sasha? You alright?"
"How bad is she?" I asked my best friend.
Abigail frowned, "She never really gets out of bed. A few weeks ago I had to move in to help her. She can't do anything without help. I hired a lady from the nursing home to come and help her while I'm at work or busy."
I ran in the front door with the house key that I had gotten years ago. I ran back to my mother's bedroom and there she was, lying in bed helplessly. Her face was pale, her eyes were sunk back slightly with dark circles underneath them, and her lips were severely chapped. She looked really underweight, and I wondered how she was alive being that small.
"Momma," I said quietly holding back tears.
"Sasha, my dear, you made it," her familiar voice rasped.
I went to lie in bed next to her. I brought her into a hug and started sobbing again. I told her everything that had happened to me over the past few years and she comforted me in a way that I didn't know how much I had missed.
She cleared her throat for hundredth time, "So, you and George are still practically engaged?"
"Yes, all I told him was that I was taking a trip to think. I still love him so much, momma."
"Dinner's ready," Abigail poked her head in the door.
"I really appreciate your friend giving up her life to help me. I just feel so bad," mom said once Abigail had left.
I helped her frail body out of bed, "Well, I'm here to help you now momma."
"I don't want you to give up your life or career for me either. I know important it is to you," she said as she slowly shuffled beside me.
"You're important to me," I said gripping her arm.
I watched as she barely had enough strength to sit down at the table. I knew in the back of my mind that my mother didn't have very long left on this Earth, but I didn't want to come to terms with that fact. I wanted to call George and have him fly here right away to hold me, but I couldn't bring myself to do that either.
After dinner, I helped momma go to bed, said goodbye to Abigail, and bundled in warm clothes to go outside. I walked down to the barn and greeted my horse, Comet. I saddled him and rode to my favorite stop on our farm, a little creek with a waterfall that was surrounded by lots of trees. I sat in the grass and thought about everything that I've been through. I couldn't bear the thought of losing everything in such a short amount of time. I knew the next few months would be filled with me helping my dying mom live her final months. I wondered what George was doing at this very moment. I decided not to think about him, though. I untied Comet and rode him back to the barn for the night. I walked quietly up the stairs to my old room.
Nothing had changed, and for a second, I felt as if I were sixteen again, coming up here to sit at my desk and read Paul's letters. My life had changed so much since then, and I wasn't sure how it was going to turn out. I got dressed for bed and cried myself to sleep for the first time in a long time.
February 25, 1966
George's POV
Sasha left three months ago and hasn't called or even let me know she's okay or even alive. I've even tried to call her mother's house in Nashville, but no one ever answers. Paul, Ringo, and even John have tried to convince that she's coming back, but I just don't get that feeling.
Today's my birthday, and I at least expected her to call, but it's dinner time and still no birthday call. Maybe I was living in the past too much. Maybe I should just accept the fact that she's gone and may never come back.
I picked up the phone and dialed a number that I knew off the top of my head. It rang for a while until someone finally answered.
"Hello?"
"Hey Pattie. It's George."
Sasha's POV
March 30, 1966
The more time I spent in Nashville, the longer the days got. My mother had gotten worse, and I knew she was in the final stages of her life. It's hard to comprehend after all that I've been through that I could wake up in the morning and not have a mother anymore. I was already alone enough as it was without a father or George.
George. I came out here to have girl talk with my mom and think about what I wanted in my life, and those plans had suddenly changed, but they had to. My mother couldn't even get up out of the bed by herself. I never had time to talk to anyone or visit my old friends. I was here taking care of my mother nonstop. That is exactly why I haven't had time to check in with anyone back in England. I also expected George to come after me and try to work things, but sadly, there's been no sign of him.
I strummed random chords on the guitar up in my room. My mom had told me to leave my bedroom door open because she liked to her me just play around.
I heard her weak voice from downstairs, "Sasha come down here quick!"
I raced frantically down the stairs because I thought something was wrong with her. When I got to the living room, momma was watching the news in her recliner.
"What momma? I thought something was wrong," I told her sitting down on the couch.
"Watch the TV," she instructed quietly.
I looked at the black and white screen and saw George sitting next to a beautiful blonde girl, smiling widely at her. She looked so familiar, but I couldn't place her.
"Do you plan on having any kids?" The reporter asked the two of them.
What? Kids?
The blonde headed girl spoke in a posh accent, "I would love to have three kids."
She smiled at George. George smiled weakly at her, and then, he kissed her. The kiss looked weak and with no emotion from George. I stared at the screen in shock as George kissed the woman.
The news anchor came back on the screen, "Well, that's the Beatles' George Harrison and his new wife, model, Pattie Boyd. That will do it tonight for the entertainment part of the news. Stick around for the local weather forecast."
My mother turned off the television and looked at me. The tears were welling up in my eyes. How could George do this to me? We were practically still engaged and he thinks that were over because I'm too busy taking care of my dying mother. Who does he think he his? I closed my eyes and a tear trickled down my cheek.
"I'm so sorry sweetie," my mother said quietly.
"I'll be back inside for dinner soon," I told her as I got up and walked to the backdoor.
When I got outside, I ran to barn as fast as I could, crying hard. I rode my horse to the creek; when I got there I cried for a good hour and a half.
Had I lost George for good? What was I going to do now that he wasn't mine anymore? I still loved him dearly, and I knew he still loved me.
When I got back to the house, I walked in the backdoor through the kitchen. A sickening feeling entered my stomach.
2 weeks ago
London, England
George's POV
"George, please don't go through with it. You barely know her," Paul pleaded with me.
Ringo and John were staring intently at me. John had a disgusted look on his face.
I stood up from the couch, "I'll do what I want. I know Pattie enough to marry her."
"You dated her for two weeks George! You're practically still engaged to Sasha," this was the first time Ringo had spoken since the conversation started.
John sighed and faced me, "George, everyone knows you're doing this to cope with Sasha not being here. But trust me, she will come back. You just wait and see."
"I love Pattie, and we're getting married. End of discussion," I told them.
Paul put his guitar that he had been playing down, "Do you know how much this will hurt Sasha?"
"End of discussion," I said walking out of the studio.
Why did everyone always try to control my life? It's just because I'm the youngest. I truly did still love Sasha, but she wasn't coming back, and I could feel it. I just wish she would call, then I would have an excuse to call off the wedding that was about to happen.
I walked into the court house and saw Pattie standing there in a white fur coat.
"Hello, love. Ready to get married?" She asked me, kissing my cheek.
I sighed, "Ready as I'll ever be."
Sasha's POV
March 30, 1966
The sickening feeling in my stomach was getting worse as I slowly walked into the living room. My mom was slumped over in the recliner; the glass of water on the table beside her was spilt.
I approached her, "Momma?"
She didn't respond.
"Mommy, please answer me," I said starting cry again.
I collapsed in the floor when she didn't respond. I had lost my mother, and now there was no one.
A few hours later, I was sitting in the hospital lobby. The paramedics couldn't revive my mother, and now she was lying in the cold morgue somewhere in this building. I walked over to the pay phone and dialed a number that I hadn't called in a while.
"'Ello?"
"Ringo?" I asked quietly.
"Sasha?!" He yelled into the phone, "Everyone's missed you so much. Did you call the studio for your brother?"
"Yes, is he there?"
"Yeah, just a second," I could hear the smile in Ringo's voice.
A few seconds of silence went by until I heard the soft voice that I missed so much, "Sasha, is this really you? Is anything wrong?"
At the sound of Paul's concerned voice, I started to cry, and I told him everything that had happened to me.
"Hang in there sis," Paul said, "Ringo and I will be there in a few hours. We'll catch the next flight to Nashville."
5 days later
Ringo and Paul had arrived at my house the next morning, and I was so glad to see them. Now we were at my mother's funeral. I was sitting in between Ringo and Paul, each of them holding one of my hands tight and my head resting on Paul's shoulder.
After the funeral, Paul and Ringo had to go back to London, and I drove them back to the airport.
"You're not coming back with us?" Ringo asked me as we stood in the terminal.
"No, I still have to finalize some things here with my mom's will, then I'll be back," I told him.
Ringo brought me into a tight embrace and held me there for what felt like hours.
I gave Paul a piece of paper with my flight information on it, "Make sure you pick me up at the airport in London in two days."
Paul brought me into a tight hug, "I'll try to make there, sis."
We said our goodbyes, and Ringo and Paul headed down the hallway to board the airplane, and I went back outside to my car.
Two days later, when I arrived in London, I searched for Paul's familiar face. I saw a familiar face to pick me up, but it was not Paul's. I walked forward slowly suddenly scared of what might happen next.
Author's Note: Who's at the airport to pick her up?
