I stood in front of the door, waiting anxiously until I saw the Beatles coming up the stairs through the window alongside the door; I didn’t want to run outside and make a scene in broad daylight and have half the neighborhood come running out to mob the Beatles. My heart was pounding, not only from my quick dash to the door, but also from the heavy anticipation of coming face-to-face with the Beatles again! I felt just as excited as I had been the first time they’d showed up at my house, if not more so this time. I didn’t have much of a reason to be nervous; hell, I was on a first-name basis with them already, and I had already gone through the nerve-wracking initial meeting with them over a year earlier. Perhaps all the long months of hoping and wishing to see them again had finally hit me with full force; one second more of waiting would drive me crazy!

Through the narrow little glass window, I saw that the only person in the group who was dressed rather formally was Neil Aspinall (Brian wasn’t anywhere to be seen, for some reason), naturally, because he was in charge of all the business matters when Brian wasn’t around and had to look professional, just like my dad had to. The Beatles were dressed quite casually, in contrast, quite different than they had been attired the last time they came to my house. Ringo and George had plain light-colored collared shirts on with the sleeves rolled up to their elbows, and John and Paul both sported some sort of funky multicolored shirts that I thought were particularly cool-looking; all four of them had sunglasses on and were wearing jeans and were carrying their suitcoats over their arms. They looked as handsome as movie stars, like they’d stepped right out of the beach scenes from Help!...yet they also appeared to be just the four normal guys that they really were, a perfect blend of reality and dreams. What girl could resist any one of them? Certainly not me or Claire or Anna or Cheryl!

After what seemed like ages, I finally saw them coming up the brick stairs just a few feet away from me through the door. Quickly unfastening the locks, I took a deep breath and turned the knob. . . and there before me was a very familiar group of visitors: John, Paul, George, and Ringo, along with Neil Aspinall, all smiling happily to see me. Yet another dream come true. . .

I gave them a wide grin and said, “Hello, you guys! Come on in,” stepping out of their way as they entered the house.

John was the first one inside. He, along with the others, looked like they were absolutely drenched with sweat from the steaming weather; even rolling up the sleeves on his shirt and getting rid of the suit jacket hadn’t appeared to help him cool off much. He was nonetheless in a good mood; he said, grinning, “Well, well...if it isn’t Miss Donaldson come running to greet us at the door.”

“Hi, John; how was the drive here?” I asked, shaking his hand, not knowing how else to greet them. I didn’t want to throw myself at them and hug them... though the thought of that was quite tempting!

“Boiling!” Ringo answered for him, shaking my hand after John had. “The air conditioning in the car gave out about three blocks from the airport--”

“And we couldn’t open the bloody windows or we’d get mobbed,” John finished, taking off his round sunglasses and rubbing his sun-strained eyes.

I shook my head. “My god; that must have been miserable! I just got back from the store a while ago, and I was dying from the heat,” I commented, fanning myself with my hand. They must have felt like steamed vegetables at that point after driving for a while in the midday summer sun.

Neil spoke up just then, saying, “Well, they’re going to try and send us a different car when we leave in a couple of hours; I don’t want to have to go through that again.”

Ohhh... a couple of hours... was that all the time I was going to be allotted with the Beatles this time? My face fell quickly; I’d counted on them at least staying for dinner that night, certainly not a lengthy stay like they had done last time... but two hours was barely enough time to do anything! I’d figured that perhaps they could have gone with me to go pick up Claire at the pool (what a shock that would have been for her!) and at least say hello to my father when he got home from work. God... at that rate, what was the point of them even coming to visit me? I’d spend the entire visit staring at the clock on the mantle above the fireplace, slowly watching precious minutes tick away.

“Oh... just until four?” I said as John and Neil stepped into the living room, eagerly looking for a place to sit down and cool off.

“Afraid so, luv,” George said as we shook hands; he and the other members of the band didn’t look very happy about the lack of time they would spend visiting me that day, either. “The driver is taking our cases to the hotel right now.”

“You guys aren’t staying at the Vanderbilt, are you?” I said. “I’m sure my dad would’ve heard about you coming to town otherwise.”

George shook his head. “Brian told us that the Vanderbilt was full; the Astor Towers had a vacancy for us,” he explained, hanging up his suit coat on the hooks behind the front door once I’d closed it. “He’s at the hotel making sure everything’s set there.”

I turned my head to look at Paul, the only one in the group that hadn’t said a word to me yet. He looked just as stunning as ever standing there, waiting for his turn to hang up his coat. With a mischievious smile he said, “Chin up, luv; perhaps we’ll kidnap you and take you out on the town for the evening with us.”

“Yeah, right,” I said as George and Ringo headed into the living room, leaving just Paul and me in the foyer. “I’m sure Peter and Alice will just love that idea!”

Paul shrugged, laughing. “Hey, it was worth a shot,” he said, then, lowering his voice, “but if you promise to dress as smashing as that from now on, we’re going to have no other choice!”

Now that got a well-deserved blush out of me as he headed towards the others in the living room! I had to wait a few seconds so the blood would drain from my face before standing in the archway of the living room and asking, “Who wants a glass of iced tea?”

Before any of them could answer, my mother came rushing down the hallway, carrying a tray of glasses of iced tea and wearing her cheerful little “oh-the-visitors- are-here!” grin. When the group saw her, they automatically switched their looks from their jet-lagged worn-out looks to more cheerful dispositions to greet their hostess gratefully.

“Hel-lo, everyone!” my mother exclaimed happily, carrying the tray to the coffee table. “How nice it is to see all of you again!”

Paul gave a quick bob of his head as he and the others sprung up and attacked the tray of cold drinks as if their very existances depended on consuming a glass of iced tea at that very moment. “Likewise for all of us, Mrs. D,” he replied politely, taking the last glass from the tray after the others had retreated.

“My goodness; did you have a rough ride from the airport?” my mother asked, a little surprised at the quick emptying of the drink tray.

Neil explained that the air conditioner had gone out during the drive, and my mother tsked, shaking her head. “How terrible! Poor Laurie was also complaining about the heat this afternoon after driving the Cadillac across town and back. Well, at least you have a bit of time to cool off and relax,” she said, picking up the tray. “Would anyone like something to eat?”

They all refused politely. Then Neil asked to use the phone to call Brian at the hotel, to which my mother agreed, so he followed her until reaching the den and she continued on into the kitchen with the empty tray. I bit my lip; there I was--again!-- with the Beatles sitting right in front of me...Paul and John on the couch by the window, Ringo leaning against the arm on the couch, and George sitting across from them in the armchair. God help me, I felt like a complete fool; I didn’t have a thing to say to them! The only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock on the mantle; I glanced at the thing worriedly... one hour and fifty-six minutes left...

George, who was usually the quiet one, finally broke the silence. “So, Laurie, what have you been up to?” he said, shaking the ice in his glass around in circles. “Finished with the sisters at that college of yours yet?”

I shook my head. “Not for another year,” I said, leaning against the wall. “Seven more classes and then I’ll be finished... but at least I don’t have any classes with Sister Janet this year.”

“Ah, the old college days,” John laughed, shaking his head. “I was in college for a time... well, when I decided to go to me classes and not sag off and go to the pub for a pint...”

“Hmph; that’s not exactly possible at my school,” I replied. “If you miss a class, those nuns will hunt you down unless you call them beforehand and let them know. And if they catch you drinking... well, then you’re just lined up in front of a firing squad after you’re excommunicated from the church...”

Paul finally piped up after taking a sip from his glass. “Are you still going to be a teacher?”

I nodded. “Yes; after I graduate I’m definitely going to take those teaching classes.”

“Are you going to teach the little ones or the older kids?” Paul said, quite interested in the topic. He’d told me during the last visit that, if the whole Beatles thing hadn’t gone over so big in 1962, he probably would’ve gone into teaching as well.

“I don’t know yet... I have to think about it a little more.”

“I’d rather teach the younger kids,” Paul informed me. “They aren’t as hard to teach as the older ones... if the older ones are as bad as I was, I wouldn’t want to get near them!”

“Oh, really?” I grinned, raising an eyebrow. “And how bad were you?”

He glanced at John, then the two of them broke into giggles. “No comment,” he said, holding up his left hand. Okay; they were in a sick mood today...

“Forget it; I don’t even want to know,” I giggled. “The answer is probably too incriminating.”

“To say the least!” John laughed, setting his empty glass on the coffee table and stretching out on the couch. “So... what wondrous fun have you got in store for us today, Miss Donaldson?”

I shrugged. “There’s not much we can do in two hours... I wish we could had more time together; there’s lots to do on a sunny day like this.”

John suddenly jumped up from his seat, racing for the archway. “Well, then, that’s all I need to hear; let’s see if we can change that,” he said quickly, exiting the room in a blur. Ringo laughed, stealing his spot on the couch.

I gave Ringo a funny look. “What’s with him all of a sudden?” I asked.

“He’s been looking for any excuse not to go back to that damn hotel,” Ringo explained. “All of us have, actually... he’s gone to ask Neil to go chat up your mum and see if we can stay the night here... that is, if your family is willing to do that.”

“Oh!” I gasped, putting my hand to my heart; it felt ready to beat straight out of my chest as a shot of adrenaline hit my system. “Do you guys really want to do that? You really want to spend the night here?”

“Of course,” Paul replied. “Why do you think we asked to come here in the first place? Do you really think we were willing to spend our entire trip here in town cooped up in some hotel room if there was even a possibility that we could come visit here?”

I shook my head, grinning widely. This can’t be happening... this really can’t be happening to me... complete deja vu!

“No,” I answered. “If it were up to me, I’d let you guys stay here in a minute.”

“Do you think your mum will agree?” George said.

I nodded after a moment. “Yep; she sent me to the store to buy enough food to feed an entire army for two days. She was sort of anticipating you guys staying for more than a few hours... I just don’t know what my dad will say, though...”

About two minutes later John returned with a big smile on his face; the news had to be good in order to get such a happy reaction out of him. “Well, lads, it looks like we’re spending the night here,” he informed all of us. “Brian’s having our cases driven back here as soon as the car gets to the hotel. We’ve just got to be out of here early tomorrow morning so we don’t miss the press conference, that’s all.”

“Damn, you guys can get things taken care of quick!” I said, wide-eyed. “It takes me longer just to get a book checked out at the library!”

“It’s not hard, really; your mum was on the phone with your dad when I talked to Neil, and he agreed, and all Neil had to do was ring Brian and squabble with him for a moment,” John said, taking his pack of Marlboros from his pocket and passing them around for the group to share along with his lighter. All of them took a ciggie and lit it up, crowding around the ashtray on the coffee table.

“So... now that you’ve got some extra time, Laurie, what are we doing this evening?” Paul inquired, raising his eyebrows and staring straight at me. “You said yourself that there’s plenty to do on a day like this.”

“Well, I-I--” I stammered, at a loss for words again. What could all of us do that evening that they would enjoy? “Just give me a little time during dinner and I’ll have an evening to remember planned for all of us, okay?”

“All right... but you’re in big trouble if you don’t have something planned by then,” Paul said, leaning closer to me near the wall. “We’re your guests, you know...”

“How could I forget?” I replied, giving his shoulder a shove.

About an hour and a half of catching up with my visitors went by, then my mother recruited me to help her set the dining room table for an early dinner; she’d managed to throw together a meal in just a short amount of time: a lovely garden salad, wild rice, Shake-n-Bake chicken, carrots, and rolls for dinner, and some leftover cookies from her guild meeting for dessert. She told me to set up eight place settings, five for our guests and three for us, since she informed me that my dad had a meeting with Mr. Vanderbilt at the hotel downtown at four and wouldn’t be home until much later that night.

As I was pouring ice water into the glass goblets on the table, I suddenly had a horrible thought: Claire had never called home after the party at the pool! Oh, was I going to catch hell for that one when Mom found out! She would've wanted me to work out a pickup time with Claire before dropping her at the party; now she’d probably jump to the conclusion that Claire had been taken hostage by the Russians and was on a plane to Siberia at that point! But I had to tell her, of course; it would be pretty dumb to wait until she sat down at dinner and said, “Where’s Claire?”

I slammed the pitcher of water onto the table and ran into the kitchen, where my mother was putting the final touches on the salad. “Mom!” I shouted. “Claire never called me from the pool to pick her up after the party ended at three!”

My mother’s eyes widened. “Oh dear..." she said, looking at the clock. It was already four-fifteen; where the hell was Claire? “I wonder where she is?”

I reached for the invitation to Mary Ann’s party that Claire had left on the table; the number for the Pine Lake Recreation Center was scribbled on the inside. I dialed the number quickly and asked the guy who picked up the phone if they could page Claire over the loudspeaker outside by the pool. After five minutes of dead silence on the other end of the line and three chewed fingernails later, the guy came back and said that no one came to the desk after the page. Oh, great! Maybe she was kidnapped by the Communists or something! I’d be grounded until I was thirty if we couldn’t find her!

Just as I was hanging up the phone and was contemplating the possibility of my father ripping up my tuition check for the fall semester when he got home, I heard the Beatles laughing hysterically in the living room. John said, “Cor... this bird can’t drive that car at all!”

How the hell I knew that Claire was on her way home at that exact moment I’ll never know, but it must have been some sort of divine intervention! I ran in the front to find the Beatles standing at the front window, watching a green Chevy convertible come swerving down Cold Creek Street. The car nearly crashed into our neighbor’s prize-winning rose bushes at the end of their property before careening into our driveway and rolling over half of our meticulously-cut front lawn in the process. I cringed as I recognized the licence plate right away as the car came to a abrupt halt about an inch from the bumper on the Cadillac: GJJ 621... Helen Jenkins, my sixteen-year-old cousin who lived about a block away from the pool...

“Oh my god... Uncle Jack must be nuts!” I exclaimed, receiving confused looks from my fellow observers. “It’s my cousin Helen; she just turned sixteen and got her licence... she still can’t drive worth the shit, though...”

My mother came running into the living room just then. “What in God’s name...” she began, joining us at the window. “Good Lord... did Helen drive Claire home?”

I nodded as the Beatles and Neil backed away from the window a little bit so that my cousin couldn’t see them. Claire, her hair in a messy halo around her face from the terrifying ride, had already grabbed her beach bag from the back seat and was leaping out of the car. “Jesus, Helen! Are you trying to kill us?” she cried, stomping towards the house in her sandals.

Helen slammed her car door shut and followed Claire to the door. “Dammit, Claire; thanks for all the appreciation! You’re just lucky that I picked you up or you wouldn’t have made it back here until midnight!” she retorted, flipping her long black hair behind her shoulders and taking off her sunglasses. “You interrupt me in the middle of work and that’s the thanks I get? That’s the last ride you’ll get from me, kid!”

“Thank god; I’d rather stay alive, thank you very much,” Claire snapped, pounding on the front door. “Laurie, you’d better be in there!”

My mother covered her mouth to keep from laughing and headed back down the hall towards the kitchen rather than to the foyer to answer the door, leaving me to greet the ever-so-cheerful Claire Angelica Donaldson! “Mo-om!” I protested, putting my hands on my hips.

“It’s your mess, Laurie,” Mom laughed quietly as Claire’s knocking began to drown out her argument with Helen. “You’re the one that forgot to pick her up... go on and let her in before she beats a hole through the door.”

I rolled my eyes. Great; throw me forth as a sacrifice to the evil Sister-Monster! She was going to claw my eyeballs out... unless, of course...

I turned and smiled sweetly at John. “Um, John... would you--”

He snickered, “Not on your life, Laurie!” before joining the others behind the wall that separated the foyer from the living room.

“Traitor,” I scowled, heading for the door. I slid the lock open and slowly opened the door to face Claire’s wrath.

Claire gave me an absolutely disgusted look as she raised her beach bag to swing at me, then dropped it back at her side. “Thanks a heap, Laurie! You forgot to come get me and I had to hitch a ride home with Psycho Cousin here!”

“Hey!” Helen said, following Claire inside the foyer. “I’d like to see you drive stick-shift, Miss Know-It-All... you’re not hot stuff just because you’re a high school kid now; you’re only a damn freshman!”

“Well, at least I know that you’re not supposed to run over twenty pedestrians when you’re driving through town!” Claire said, throwing her bag into the corner and stomping into the living room, passing right by the Beatles and Neil without the slightest inkling that they were standing right there!

“I did not run over anyone, Claire! They all jumped out of the way when I beeped the horn!”

All I can say is thank god that my dad taught me how to drive while I was fifteen and using my learner’s permit! Obviously Helen hadn’t had that luxury before she got her licence.

“Helen, I think the person that gave you your licence must have been blind or drunk... or maybe both!” Claire shouted, turning and putting her hands on her hips, staring straight through the archway at Helen and me standing in the hallway.

Helen just held up her hands, her car keys jangling around her thumb. “I mean it, Claire; don’t bother calling me in an emergency anymore,” she said, shaking her head and taking a step forward into the living room, much to my horror! She absolutely could not know that the Beatles were there or I would be in deep trouble!

Snatching her by her arm, I put on a nice, convincing phony smile and said, “Listen, Helen... why don’t you just calm down a little and maybe go sit in the kitchen and talk to Aunt Alice? Hmm?”

Helen gave me a funny look but let me push her down the hall a little bit towards the kitchen and definitely far, far away from the living room! I looked back at Claire, who opened her mouth to keep the argument going but then caught sight of the five people hiding against the living room wall and paused. Her mouth snapped shut for a moment, then, wide-eyed, she began raising her arm to point at them. While Helen wasn’t looking, my hand flew to my lips and I gave Claire the signal to shut her trap until Helen was gone. Claire gave a little nod and practically flew out of the living room, following me and Helen into the kitchen.

“Here, Helen, Claire,” I said in an airy little voice, leading them both towards my mother at the stove, “why don’t you have a nice little chat with my mother and work out your problems? Remember what the Beatles said? ‘We Can Work It Out’?”

Claire snorted loudly, trying her best not to bust out laughing, to which Helen said, “Hey; what’s so funny, Claire?”

Leaving the two of them with my mother, I sprinted down the hallway, skidding to a stop at the living room doorway and waving the Beatles furiously towards me. “Upstairs! Quick!” I whispered fiercely, and they began following me out of the room.

Our movement came to a screeching halt as Helen came stomping down the hallway at me; I raised my arms up behind me and walked backwards quickly, saying “No-no-no-get-back!” as quickly and as quietly as I could through clenched teeth. From the corner of my eye I saw Beatles running everywhere to hide: two behind the couch, one behind the TV, one behind the chair in the far corner of the room... and Neil sitting properly on the couch! My eyes practically popped out of my head.

“What are you doing?” I whispered fiercely.

“I’m a guest waiting for your father; she won’t recognize me,” he said quickly, just as Helen arrived at my side.

“Laurie, I think you’ve got a screw loose,” Helen said, patting my shoulder as she walked past me, not even noticing Neil sitting in the living room. “Really... a Beatles song at a time like this...”

She reached for the knob on the door, turning it and opening the door. “Goodbye, Aunt Alice!” she called down the hallway before heading outside.

“Bye, Helen; drive carefully!” my mother replied. She always says that just out of habit, even to me, regardless of the five years of driving experience I’ve accumulated since I got my learner’s permit in 1961!

Helen rolled her eyes. “God; doesn’t anyone trust my driving?” she whined, putting her sunglasses back on as she headed down the driveway towards her car.

“Bye, Helen,” I said, waving before I closed the door. Quickly I dashed to the windows next to the couch and watched as Helen started the car and miraculously managed to swerve her way out of the driveway without causing more than another fifty dollars damage to our lawn. I sighed with relief that that was over with... then I heard a snicker below me from behind the couch. I turned my head to see Paul laying flat on his back where he’d landed after vaulting over the back of the couch... from that angle, he could see right up my--

“Paul!” I shouted, jumping away from him and holding my skirt tight against my legs. “You jerk!”

He burst into laughter as the others got up from their hiding spots and Neil stood up from his seat on the couch. “Laurie, I gotta give you due credit: you really know how to make a bloke feel welcome,” he giggled, crossing his arms in fr ont of him.

“What? What happened?” John said, emerging from his hiding spot behind the TV.

I glared at Paul, fuming as he stuck his tongue out then grinned at me childishly. “Nothing,” I said, gritting my teeth.

Paul finally gave up his giggling. “That was a welcome relief after meeting Miss Wheels out there,” he said.

“Huh? Miss Wheels?” I said.

“Helen Wheels,” he smirked as the others started laughing. I almost stuck to my pissed-off routine and nearly refused to laugh, but then gave the joke a genuine smile; hell, it was funny, after all! And who could stay mad at any one of the Beatles for very long? Certainly not me! I wasn’t about to waste half of their overnight visit mad at them, so I gave it a rest for the time being... although I mentally reserved a few moments later that evening to tell Paul a few choice words!

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