Brian laid beside Chrissie as Jimmy watched the telly intently between them. Brian was staring at Chrissie, studying her every feature, watching the way her body moved with her breath and the way she blinked in near rhythm. He studied her hands and her long hair and her soft skin.  He drank in how truly beautiful the woman he married was. Brian could feel himself becoming depressed about leaving her again for the tour and about leaving Jimmy.  It was New Years Eve, 1978 and neither of them had yet to put away any Christmas decorations. The house still looked so very lovely. “Look! Look, Jimmy! Look at the ball! See how it sparkles!” Chrissie cooed at him as Jimmy seemed to be entranced by the ball that was traditionally dropped over Times Square in New York City. She and Brian were watching the televised special call Dick Clark’s New Years Rockin’ Eve. It aired out of the United States and featured music acts and celebrity guests. They had eaten three bowls of popcorn and Jimmy had been through three diapers and two and a half bottles of juice. Brian continued to watch Chrissie seriously; feeling solemn and perhaps even a bit mopey inside.

 “I wanna’ have another baby with you.” Brian blurted out of nowhere. Chrissie looked at him with the most blindsided of glances.

 “What?” she asked.

 “I’m serious. Let’s have another one.” Brian said.  Chrissie shook her head.

 “Again…what? Brian what…what are you saying?” she inquired, still dumbfounded.

 “I think we’re ready for another one. A little brother or sister for Jimmy?” He smiled at Chrissie appearing to be enthralled with the idea of another baby. Chrissie hadn’t reacted neither positively nor negatively; she was simply stunned.

 “Jimmy’s not even yet two.” Chrissie responded.

 “No, but he will be this year.” He said, reaching for her hand. Brian continued to stare at Chrissie’s rather emotionless reaction. They sat there in silence, Jimmy continuing to be fascinated by the telly. “Chrissie?” Brian repeated. She took a deep breath.

 “So, you cheat on me with a stripper you met at a club four years ago, you confess to me that you were once infatuated with her and now you’re laying here…wanting to discuss you and I having another baby?” Chrissie asked seriously. It was in that moment that it hit Brian. Yes, they had a wonderful Christmas and yes Chrissie did in fact love him. The problem was that she hadn’t let it go. She had forgiven Brian but she couldn’t let go of the fact.

 “I told you that…” she stopped him.

 “No. No, Brian. I love you. But, we are very much not ready for that. Come back from the tour without anythin’ else to confess to me and maybe we’ll talk.” Chrissie said, turning her attention back to the telly and to Jimmy.

 “I love you…you. I thought we talked about this. I thought we were o…”

 “We are okay. What we aren’t is in no place for another baby. I realize you probably have the fever because of…you know…Mr. Father of the Year.” Chrissie rolled her eyes.

 “Don’t say that. Chrissie, that’s just mean. I was watchin’ you Christmas Day and I was just thinking to myself god I’m the luckiest man alive because that is the mother of my son. I love you.” he repeated. Chrissie didn’t say anything. Brian thought this whole ‘indicent’ had been resolved but in only a matter of minutes before it was time to ring in 1979; he realized it wasn’t.

 It had been a subdued New Years and one of the first that some elaborate, glamorous or debauchery-filled night hadn’t ensued. Sure there had been many invitations received for this party or that party but tonight; John, Veronica and the boys spent a happy New Years Eve at home with Veronica’s parents looking at old photos. It made Veronica rather sad as she reminisced on times gone by. It also made her smile because so many happy times had been captured and immortalized within the pages of album after album. . Everyone in the house gathered around the telly to watch John and Veronica’s wedding video. They ate pierogies and Swedish meatballs until they were practically sick. Veronica found herself more emotional this New Years Eve than she ever had before.  Michael had long fallen asleep and he wouldn’t see the New Year come in. Robbie, however, was fairly wound and having a party horn blowing contest with his daddy.

 At my home, all was quiet…and sweaty….oh fuck was it sweaty. I sighed as I felt Roger roll over on me. “Roooooooog!” I huffed.

 “What, babe?” He asked, kissing my shoulder. I sighed audibly again.

 “First, move. You have got to move because I feel everything you have pressing into my lower back. Secondly, this is why you have to start wearin’ clothes to bed. I’m sweaty enough as it is, I cannot have parts of you sticking to me.” I lectured him before sending the covers flying toward to the foot of the bed.

 “You and I have been naked in this bed nearly every night since we moved in this house.” Roger reminded me.

 “I know that Roger! But my back wasn’t sweating any other time!” I said as I laid there all sprawled out and fanning myself. Roger laughed at me and put a hand on my abdomen which had swollen slightly more.

 “My god! You are soaked with sweat!” He said, stating the obvious.

 “I knooooooow!” I said disgruntledly, feeling the sheets beneath me wet with sweat and my hair sticking to my neck. Believe me, any other New Years Eve I’d be sweatin’ for a different reason.

 “Stay there, I’ve got an idea.”  I continued to fan myself as I watched Roger get up. I swear. Through the years, I had seen Roger do a lot of naked things in our home but it usually involved going to and from the bath in the middle of the night or early in the mornings. Now, he had taken it to the next level…digging around in our closet…completely naked. I could hear the shuffling of things and the moving of things only to see Roger turn out the closet light and emerge with the sexiest thing I’d ever seen in my life: a fan. It was the table-top fan that we used in the bedroom of the yacht in the summer. Oh, I didn’t care how naked Roger was at this point…he was plugging it in, sitting it on the nightstand and oh god yes….yes, yes, YES!

 “Ooooh my god! This. Is. The sexiest thing. You’ve ever done!” I said emphatically as the wonderful air of the fan hit me. Roger crawled over me and nestled in beside me again, laughing at me reaction. I reached for his hand in my attempts to say ‘I’m sorry for throwing the covers and shooing your parts away’. And then, at 11:56 the phone rang. Roger and I found it slightly out of character but it was probably my mother wishing us a Happy New Year. I rolled over to grab the receiver and pull it around the fan. “Hello?” It was Veronica. “Veronica, hi!” I said, lying back down and stretching out the cord of the phone and moving Roger’s hand to my abdomen as I began to cool off.

 “Hey.” She sniffed. “I know it’s late. Did I wake you? What are you doing?” she asked, sniffing again.

 “No, of course not. I’m doing what I always do on New Years Eve…sweating, feeling too much of Roger being pressed into my back and being naked.” I answered hearing Veronica’s laughter coupled with another sniff on her end of the phone.

 “Oh, the sweating. You’re officially in your 4th month aren’t you?” she asked, still laughing at me.

 “Yes.” I answered her. “Are you okay? You sound upset?”

 “Aww, I’m okay.” She answered as she was obviously trying to fight her tears. “Tonight, John and I have been looking at old pictures and….and we found the album with this pictures….where we had the New Years’ Eve party at our townhouse? Remember that? Chrissie and Brian had only kind of gotten together. Roger kissed her at midnight to loosen her up?” Veronica laughed.

 “Oh god! I’ll never forget that…shit…that was 1972.” I said a little dreamily as Roger’s fingers played over mine. “We hadn’t even met Mary yet.” I could hear Veronica cry a little.

 “Remember…remember how Freddie took the guest bedroom and you ended up that horrible rug burn?” Veronica asked through her laughter and her sniffing. I had to smile.

 “Oh yes…I remember! Rog, he…he told me loved me that night. Veronica, I’ve gone from rug burn in the floor to the sexiness that is an oscillating fan!” I said. She laughed again.

 “Oooh, god…we were…we all looked so young. That was…one amazing night we had. I just…I started thinking about all of us…crammed onto that balcony John and had and….and counting down the moments together to the New Year.” I could hear her sniff and tear up. “I just wanted to wish you and Roger a Happy New Year. There’s a lot to be happy about in the year to come.”  I hesitated, feeling as if I was going to tear up. It was 11:58.

 “I…I love you, Veronica. Do…do you remember when Freddie asked you to suck the head off the champagne?” I asked her, wiping my eye and trying anything to keep from crying. Her laughter on the other end was what I needed and what she needed.

 “Yes…yes of course I do. Aww, Fred…I…I can’t believe…1979 is almost here. I’ll let you have the last two minutes with Roger, I just had to call.” She finished.

 “Happy New Year.” I told her softly before hanging up and hanging up the receiver before facing Roger and reaching my now completely comfortable arms toward him.

 The only two people who actually did party tonight were Freddie and Mary. Garden Lodge was hoppin’ and Mary had a tray of shrimp puffs in one hand and a flute of champagne in the other. “Freddie! Can you come over here and get the mini quiches out of the oven!? We ran out and…” Mary paused as she frantically spun around in the battered kitchen and faced Freddie. She looked positively perfect in the whirlwind of food, dirty dishes, open bottles, plastic food wrappers strewn about and Delilah meowing around her feet begging for any treat Mary would give her. Mary’s black dress was partly covered by Freddie’s most favorite apron.  “What?” she asked, about to drop shrimp puffs all over the place before she re-gained her balance of the tray. Freddie shook his head.

 “You.” He paused and stared at her for a moment. “Look at you.” Delilah continued to meow her little heart out as Freddie and Mary remained locked in a stare that borderlined on a tear-felt hug.

 “Freddie, I…” Mary’s sentence was interrupted by the cheers and well wishes for the New Year in the adjacent room coming from all the fabulous party guests. Freddie reached his arms out to her as she sat the tray of shrimp puffs aside, throwing her arms around him.

 “Happy New Year.” Freddie choked out to her. Mary’s breath shuddered.

 “Fred what about your crush you invited in…” She mumbled into his neck as she held on to him and felt his tender hands on her back.

 “I don’t care about him.” Freddie said, leaning his head over on Mary’s and pulling his fingers through her hair. What Freddie Mercury needed in his life more than anything wasn’t the boy toy whom he’d kiss…and more…at midnight, but someone who was going to be there to kiss him when he needed it most. Mary’s champagne soaked lips met his. It wasn’t a kiss of lovers. It was a kiss of security and devotion….it was one of those kisses that felt like home.

 “Mmm! Mary! Can’t you see Delilah wants something! My god, darling! It’s her New Year too!” Freddie laughed and wiped his eye, pulling away from Mary before bawling his eyes out. Mary laughed with him, her fingers still interlaced with his.

 “I know! I hear her. She probably wants a shrimp puff.” Mary said, taking another drink of champagne to lighten things up between them.

 “A shrimp puff!? Mary! She can’t have all that breading and you know that! What she needs is a hug! Don’t you!? Don’t you Delilah!? Ooooh come herey, weary, weary woowie woooo! I love you! Yes I do!” Freddie gritted his teeth and swept his precious purring companion from the floor. He leaned back against the counter in the kitchen, holding Delilah in his arms as Mary leaned her head over on his shoulder. She ran her palm down Delilah’s soft fur cherishing this perfect moment of 1979. Well, cherishing it until the smell of smoke leaked from the oven and the smoke detector blared out across the house, scaring Delilah to pieces.

 “Oh! Oh shit! The quiches! The quiches are burning!” Mary said, lunging for the oven.

 “God! Not the quiches! It was my only food suggestion! Oh shit! Just look at those sad little things.” Freddie said as Mary pulled the baking sheet of charred, lifeless balls from the oven. She waved the oven mitt in front of the smoke detector after throwing the casualties into the sink, baking sheet and all. Freddie shook his head at not only his mess of a kitchen but at those poor little burned appetizers. “You know, Mary…it seems appropriate we’d ring in 1979 this way!” Freddie laughed at himself as Mary continued to fan the smoke from the oven. IT had been the very best New Years Eve party.