MonkeeLove: Dinner
By: Agent Newbeau
Part One
It was Micky who first noticed something strange about Mike. It had
started with the letter. Ellen had promised to send him a picture and
she had, along with a long letter thanking him for everything he had
done for her. The picture now occupied an honored spot beside his bed
that had once belonged to a picture of his mother and the letter, which
had been read so many times the tape on it was falling apart, was below
it. And then there was the fact that he had gone to see Ellen's play so
many times even he had lost count. No doubt about it, Mike was totally,
helplessly, hopelessly in love. Well, maybe not so hopelessly if Micky
could help it. There had to be some way to get Mike and Ellen together,
at least for the sake of the band. Lately Mike had been unable to
concentrate on anything, which was usually a problem with Davy, but
never Mike.
One evening, while Mike was gone somewhere, probably just out for a
walk as he tended to do a lot, Micky decided it was time to take action
and quickly enlisted the help of Peter and Davy.
"As you have probably noticed, Mike is not acting like himself lately,"
Micky said once the meeting got started.
"Where is he anyway?" Peter asked, looking around.
"Look up a few paragraphs. It says he went for a walk," Micky said.
"What's wrong with Mike?" Davy asked.
"For those of you just joining us, Mike is in love," Micky said,
rolling his eyes in frustration.
"That's not fair," Davy said. "I always get the girl."
"Not this time, babe. The Writer doesn't really like you that much so
you might want to be careful. No telling what might happen to you, you
don't want to get hurt," Micky said. "Any other questions?"
"Who's the girl?" Peter asked, envious that Mike was getting a girl,
but not saying anything for fear of what might happen to him. He would
just stick with his wild fantasies about that girl that worked at the
flower shop down the block, Miranda. Now there was a chick he could dig.
"Ellen," Micky answered.
"Who?" Davy asked, still very pissed that the Writer wouldn't let him
have a girl. It was in his contract that he got a girl every time, even
when it was somebody else's turn. It just wasn't fair.
"Ellen Farnsby, the actress," Micky said, trying not to get upset with
Peter and Davy, which was really hard, especially with Davy. The Writer
did not like him at all. "Haven't you guys noticed that he keeps her
picture by his bed, he keeps rereading that letter she sent him, and he
went to see her play so many times he's beginning to quote it in his
sleep."
"I was wondering what that noise was," Davy said, plotting his escape
in case the Writer got really mean.
"Anyway, Mike needs our help," Micky said, wondering what the Writer
was planning to do to him. That's when he noticed his hair, which had
been straight, had suddenly become very curly. he thought.
"Hey, Micky, something just happened to your hair," Davy said,
forgetting for a moment that he was plotting his revenge on the Writer.
"Yeah, isn't it groovy?"
Peter, still deeply immersed in his fantasy about Miranda, mumbled,
"Yeah, real groovy."
"Could we please get back to what we were talking about before?" Micky
said.
"What was that?" Peter asked, finally giving up on his fantasy about
Miranda, at least for then. He could always pick it up later.
"We were talking about Mike," Micky said, resisting the urge to slap
Peter. Instead, he slapped Davy.
"What did you do that for?" Davy asked, holding his chin.
"I'm not allowed to hit Peter," Micky replied. "Now, could we please
finish before Mike gets back. Does anybody have any suggestions on what
we can do?"
"Does Ms. Farnsby remember Mike?" Davy asked.
"She sent him a letter a few days ago. It was about time, he was
complaining about not having anything to read."
"So chances are she's interested in him?" Davy asked, suddenly feeling
a sharp pain in his right foot.
"I would think so," Micky said. "I happened to sneak a peak at the
letter. In fact, I have it right here." He held up the letter. "Observe
the following things. It's handwritten, not some typical fan letter,
it's very friendly, and it's signed, ‘with much love, Ellen.' Men, I
think it's time to get those two together."
"What about me?" Davy asked, very concerned about his image and his
health.
"Maybe next week," Micky said. "Now, back to Mike. Any ideas?"
Mike returned half an hour later, blissfully unaware that his friends
were planning on inviting the object of his desires and fantasies to
dinner. He was unaware his friends knew he was in love. He was unaware
of Micky's hair morph or that Davy was limping and bruised. In other
words he was totally out of it, high on love.
The next morning, while Mike was still sleeping, Micky, Peter and Davy
finalized their plans on inviting Ellen to dinner, which is what they
had decided to do. "We don't have much time before he wakes up so we
better hurry," Micky said.
"Can't it wait until later?" Davy complained. He hadn't slept very well
the night before plagued by nightmares that he chose not to remember.
"No," Micky said. "The sooner we get started on this the more time we
have to prepare. Davy, you go talk to the neighbors about food. Turn on
the charm big time."
"I don't feel very charming this morning."
"I don't care, pretend or something. This is important," Micky said.
"Peter, you go to the library and see what you can find on etiquette. We
want Ellen to be impressed."
"Why do I have to be the one to go to the library?" Peter asked. He
also hadn't slept very well, but instead of nightmares, he had dreamed
about Miranda.
"Because you're the only one who doesn't have any overdue fines," Micky
explained. "I'm going to call her and invite her to dinner. Any
questions?"
"When is it going to be?" Peter asked.
"Saturday night, which gives us four days to get ready."
"Are you sure we can pull this off?" Davy asked.
"Of course we can. Just think of all the things Mike has done for us.
It's about time we did something nice for him. Agreed?"
"Agreed," Peter and Davy said.
"Good. Now go do what I told you."
Once they were gone, Micky called Ellen. (Mike kept her number by the
phone, but he never called her.) She answered on the second ring.
"Hello?"
"Hi," Micky said, "Is this Ellen Farnsby?"
"Yes," she answered. "Who is this?"
"You probably don't remember me, but I'm Micky Dolenz, I used to work
at Urgent Answering Service. I'm a friend of Mike Nesmith."
"Oh, I remember you. What can I do for you?"
"Well, I was wondering if you're not busy Saturday night, how would you
like to come over to my place for dinner?"
"I don't know," she said. "I really don't know you and I might be
busy."
"I guess I didn't explain it. This would be dinner with me and my
friends, Davy, Peter, and of course Mike. See, Mike really likes you and
he would have asked you out himself, but he's a little shy and he
doesn't even know I'm doing this."
"Oh, I understand. Well, in that case I'll be there. What time would it
be?"
"Saturday at 8:00 p.m. The address is 1334 Beechwood Drive, but I guess
you already knew that."
"I'll be there," she said. "Thanks, Micky. Oh, tell Mike I said hello."
"I will. Thanks, Ellen. Bye," Micky said and hung up.
"Hey, Micky, who were you just talking to?" Mike asked, coming
downstairs.
‘Uh, nobody. Wrong number," Micky answered.
"That happens. Where's Peter and Davy?"
"They went shopping."
"Shopping? How could they go shopping? We don't have any money. We
haven't worked in a month," Mike said, suddenly noticing something
different about Micky's hair. "Uh, Micky, what happened to your hair?"
he asked.
"It's curly now, just happened last night. Do you like it?"
"Yeah, it's real groovy," Mike said, fixing himself a bowl of corn
flakes for breakfast.
Peter returned twenty minutes later, a stack of library books in his
hands. "Micky, I found plenty of good books and a cookbook and oh, hi,
Mike"
"Hi, Peter. I thought you went shopping."
"No, I went to the library to get books on-" He stopped, noticing that
Micky was frantically waving his arms and mouthing something to him. "I
got some books to read so I won't get bored when we're not working."
"I hope you won't have time to do that. When Davy gets back, we need to
have a meeting. It's been too long since our last gig," Mike said. He
had often thought about asking Ellen if she knew anybody who could help
them, but every time he started to call her, he got nervous and hung up
before he dialed. He knew there was nothing to be afraid of, Ellen was
his friend and she would probably be willing to help them out, but
something stopped him. Several times he had thought about asking her on
a date, that maybe there should be something more to the relationship,
but he wasn't sure what to do. He hadn't dated much, didn't have much
experience, except for that girl in New York, but that had been three
years ago and things changed. Maybe he could ask Davy for some advice.
If anybody knew about girls, it was Davy. Strange thing was, Davy didn't
seem to have a girlfriend for too long. He always had somebody new.
"I didn't tell him yet," Micky told Peter while Mike was in the
bathroom.
"She said yes?" Peter asked.
"Yeah, I think she really likes Mike, judging from the way she was
acting. I really think this is going to work out."
"When are you going to tell him?"
"Later, after Davy gets back."
Davy returned in a few minutes with the news that Mrs. Purdy would help
them cook dinner if they agreed to play at her granddaughter's birthday
party in two weeks. They would even get paid for it, taking care of two
problems.
After breakfast, Mike announced it was time for a meeting, which caused
everybody to groan in protest. Mike ignored them and started the meeting
anyway. "We haven't worked in weeks, the rent is late, and Mr. Babbit is
probably going to kick us out any day now," he said.
"He always threatens, but he never actually kicks us out," Peter said.
"This time he just might do it," Mike said.
"We don't have to worry about that," Davy said. "I got us a job this
morning."
"Why didn't you say so earlier?" Mike asked.
"You didn't give me a chance. Mrs. Purdy wants us to play at her
granddaughter's birthday party in two weeks. It's $200 plus, uh, well,
never mind that, it's $200."
Something's up, Mike suddenly realized. The guys sure are acting
strange. Davy was forgetting things, Peter went to the library, and of
course there was that thing about Micky's hair and the mysterious phone
call which he was willing to bet was not a wrong number. "Okay, what's
going on here and I want the truth," he said.
Micky, Davy, and Peter looked at each other. "Should we tell him?"
Micky asked.
"Yes," Davy said, "I think it's time."
"Are you sure?" Peter asked.
"Better now than later," Micky said.
"Tell me what?" Mike asked, a little scared.
"Mike," Micky said, "we are your friends and you're very important to
us and the group so we decided it was time we did something for you so I
invited Ellen to dinner Saturday night so maybe you could get together."
They expected him to be surprised, excited, maybe a little pissed, but
he reacted in a way none of them expected. Mike fainted.
"I think he took that rather well," Davy said.
Once again Micky felt the urge to slap him, but this time he resisted.
He knelt on the floor beside Mike. "Come on, wake up" he said. "I didn't
think you would take it like this."
Mike slowly opened his eyes and looked around. "What happened?"
"You fainted when I told you that I invited Ellen to dinner," Micky
explained, helping Mike up off the floor.
"Why?"
"I don't know, you're the one who fainted."
"Not that, I meant why did you invite Ellen to dinner?" Had it been
that obvious to his friends?
"Well, like I said, you're our friend and we wanted to show you how
much we care and thought this would be a good way of doing that.
Besides, we know how much you like her and we hope it works out for
you," Micky said.
"Was it that obvious?"
"Yes," they all said.
"Then I guess we better start getting ready for Saturday night."
End Part One
Intermission
The Flower Shop
Friday Afternoon
Peter walked into the flower shop and tried to avoid looking at
Miranda, who was smiling at him. She was very pretty, but she was
distracting him from the task at hand. Or was it foot?
‘Hi, Peter," Miranda said, walking up to him.
"Uh, hi, Miranda," Peter said, mentally kicking himself for being such
a dummy.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"I need to buy some flowers."
"Then you've come to the right place. What do you need them for?" she
asked, putting her hand on his arm.
Peter tried to concentrate, but it was hard. If he fainted now he would
never forgive himself or the Writer. He heard a voice say, "Patience
Grasshopper." "I need the flowers for Mike," he said. "Micky invited
Ellen to dinner and he told me to get flowers for Mike." That sounded
really dumb.
"I don't understand. If Micky invited her, why does Mike need flowers?'
"It's not Micky's girl, it's Mike. Micky invited her as a surprise for
Mike." That made a little more sense.
"I think I understand. What kind of flowers do you need? We have lots
of different types of roses or irises."
"No, I need flowers to put on the table, something simple, something
like that," he said, pointing to an assortment of various flowers. "How
much is that?"
"Today's special," she said. "Free." she handed him the flowers.
"Thanks, Miranda, he said and turned to leave, only to walk into a
wall. Embarrassed, he looked around for the door and left, hearing
Miranda laugh softly behind him.
End Intermission
Part Two
Mrs. Purdy's house
Saturday Morning
Micky and Peter went to Mrs. Purdy's house Saturday morning to help
cook dinner for that night. "We should have done this earlier," Micky
said. "We'll never be done in time."
"Of course we will, you've just got to have a little faith, Micky,"
Peter said.
"Hello boys," Mrs. Purdy said. "Have you decided what to do?"
"Yeah," Micky said. "This scene is not needed. Cut to later tonight."
End Part Two
Part Three
Saturday Night
It was 7:30, a half hour before Ellen was due to arrive. Mike nervously
paced around the bedroom wishing it was 8:00 one second and dreading it
the next. "Everything is going to be okay," he told himself. "It's just
dinner, it's just Ellen, the guys are going to be here, so there's no
reason to be nervous."
"Talking to yourself is not a good sign," Micky said from the doorway.
"I can't help it," Mike said. "I'm nervous. Do you know how long it's
been since I had a date of any kind?"
"No."
"Me, either, that's the problem."
"Relax, it's just dinner and we're going to be here with you. Is that
what you're wearing?"
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" He was wearing a white dress
shirt and jeans.
"Nothing really, but you might want to wear a tie? This is a date,
after all." Micky opened a drawer and started going through it. He held
up a black tie with a coyote howling at a full moon. "Where did you get
this thing?"
"I don't think that's right," Mike said, trying not to laugh. "Ana gave
me that for my birthday a few years ago. She always did have unusual
taste."
"I'll try again," Micky said. He held up a green tie. "How about this?
Do you realize you have a tie to match all of your hats, even the blue
one?"
"I like to be prepared, but I'm not wearing my hat tonight. There
should be a dark blue tie in there. That should be right."
Micky found the tie and handed it to Mike. "Maybe you should change
shirts. How about the blue shirt with the white collar? That's a nice
one."
"I like this one," Mike said. "That one wouldn't go with this tie. I
wonder what Ellen's wearing?"
There was a knock on the door downstairs. "I guess you'll find out in a
few minutes," Micky said. "I'll go let her in." He started for
downstairs.
"Wait a minute, Mick, where's Davy?"
"I think he's downstairs, but I'm not sure. He may be helping Peter.
Why?"
"I just wanted to make sure he isn't planning anything stupid. He's
still upset about not getting the girl."
"He'll get over it. I'll go let Ellen in," Micky said and went
downstairs.
Mike put on the tie and studied his reflection in the mirror. It had
been a long time since he had felt about anybody the way he felt about
Ellen. Quite possibly since Jennifer. Nobody knew about that except Ana
and that was because she was his best friend. Ellen reminded him a lot
of Jennifer, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was. Oh well, he
thought, Jennifer was a part of his past and Ellen was, well, he wanted
her to be a part of his future.
Downstairs, Ellen was getting acquainted with Micky and Davy while
Peter was finishing setting the table for dinner. Davy was trying to
charm Ellen while Micky told her things that had happened to them
recently. Ellen listened, though a bit turned off by Davy. She had come
to see Mike, so where was he?
He had been so sweet and nice to her from the first time they had met.
She smiled, remembering the first night he had come to see her in the
play. She had invited him back to her dressing room and they had talked
for a long time about many things. Nothing had happened between them
that night or any of the other nights, but there had been times when he
would stop what he was doing and watch her. There would be a feeling of
nervous anticipation and he looked like he wanted to kiss her, but was
afraid to. She had spent many a lonely night wondering what it would be
like to kiss him. Maybe tonight she would find out.
Mike was coming downstairs and stopped when he saw Ellen. She looked
stunningly beautiful in a black dress with her hair in a french twist.
She looked up at him and when their eyes met it was if they were the
only two people in the world. That may be a cliche, but in this case, it
was true. Micky noticed this and he and Davy went to the kitchen to help
Peter.
Mike continued down the stairs to where Ellen waited. "Hi," he said.
"I'm glad you could make it considering the short notice."
"I wouldn't miss it for anything," she said. "I always enjoy spending
an evening with friends."
In the kitchen, Micky, Peter, and Davy were plotting the next phase in
their plan. "Remember," Micky said, "after dinner we go to get ice
cream, leaving them alone.'
"How long are we going to be gone?" Peter asked.
"Probably about half an hour or so," Micky answered. "That should give
them long enough to get acquainted."
"They're just standing there, staring at each other," Davy said.
"They're just nervous," Micky said. ‘Maybe we better get started."
A few minutes later everybody was seated at the table. "What are we
having?" Mike asked.
"Chicken breast in wine sauce, wild rice, Caesar salad, and
Chardonnay," Peter answered.
"Did you cook it?" Mike asked and took a bite of chicken. "You couldn't
have, it's edible."
"I'm not that bad a cook," Peter protested. "Besides, I had help. Micky
and I cooked this with Mrs. Purdy."
"That explains why it's edible," Mike said.
The conversation soon turned to other things, such as their attempts at
success. They agreed to play a song for Ellen before the evening was
over. Mike began to mentally go through his supply of songs, trying to
figure out which was perfect for the occasion. His thoughts were
interrupted by Peter laughing.
"Hey, Micky," Peter said. "Your hair."
"What about it?" Micky asked, almost afraid of what the answer might
be.
"It's blond," Peter told him.
"I've had enough of this," Micky said, getting up from the table. "I'm
going to talk to the Writer." He headed off in the general direction of
wherever the Writer was hiding, but Davy stopped him.
"Please tell her something for me," he said and whispered something in
his ear.
"Forget it, Davy," Micky said. "She's not going to do that. I shouldn't
be gone too long," he said and left.
"Are things always so interesting around here?" Ellen asked.
"Never a dull moment," Mike answered.
Micky had a little trouble finding the Writer's Room, but that was
because it was not marked Writer's Room. Instead, it was marked 'Welcome
to Stalag 13 Barreke 2, Apartment 42.' Micky
thought as he knocked on the door.
"Enter at your own risk," came the voice from the other side.
Micky cautiously opened the door and stepped inside. The room was dimly
lit and cluttered with books, papers, and other stuff. The Writer sat at
her desk, calmly drinking a murky concoction that he didn't even want to
guess about. She looked up when he entered. "Hi, Micky" she said. "What
can I do for you?"
"You know why I'm here," Micky said. "I thought the purpose of all this
was to get Mike and Ellen together."
"It is."
"Then why do you keep messing with my hair?"
"Relax, I'm just having a little fun. I'll change it back. How would
you like it?" She picked up a bottle of Liquid Paper.
"Brown."
"Any other preference? Straight, curly, in between?"
"I kind of like it curly," he said, noticing the small bottle. "What is
that stuff?"
"Magic," she answered. "Okay, your hair is fixed. Anything else?"
"Davy sent you a message, said he's not happy about not getting a
girl."
"Tell him to be patient, I'll get around to him. It's almost time for
you to leave. Good luck."
"You promise you won't mess with my hair anymore?" he asked as he was
leaving.
"I promise," she said and went back to work.
"I guess she's not so bad after all," Micky said to himself as he
headed back to the table.
"You decided to keep it curly," Peter said when Micky returned. "I like
it better that way."
"Did you give her my message?" Davy asked.
"Yeah, she said to be patient," Micky told him. "Anything interesting
happen while I was gone?"
"Nothing much," Mike told him. "We were just talking."
"About what?"
"I was just telling Ellen about some of our 'adventures', just a little
something to pass the time. You were gone for a long time."
"How long?"
"Forty-five minutes. We almost gave up on you."
"It didn't seem that long," Micky said and shrugged. "Besides, I got
the job done. Don't tell Ana what happened, she'll be wanting me to do
some weird test or something."
"Who's Ana?" Ellen asked.
"Just a friend," Mike told her. "Don't worry, I won't tell her what
happened to you, Micky."
When they were all finished eating, Micky said, "That was a great
dinner, but there's one thing missing."
"What's that?" Peter asked although he knew the answer.
"There's no dessert," Micky said.
"Maybe we should go get some," Davy said.
"Good idea," Micky said. "Ice Cream okay with everybody?"
"Yes."
"Good. Davy, you and Peter come with me," Micky said, getting up.
"What about us?" Mike asked.
"You two stay here and get acquainted. I'm sure you can think of some
way to pass the time. Let's go."
They were finally alone, both not quite sure what to do or say. Mike thought. He wondered what it would be like to kiss her,
to feel her body next to his, to slowly slide the straps of that black
dress off her shoulders and watch it slide to the floor. He shook his
head as if to clear his mind of the image. It was too early to think
about things like this. "We've been set up, you know," he said.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"This whole thing was Micky's idea," he said. "Not that I'm opposed to
the idea of getting acquainted. I just, uh." He paused. "So, how goes
show business?"
"Slowly," she answered. "Theatre is nice, but I'd like to do movies.
That's where the money is and I'm tired of being broke all the time."
"I know how that feels. I never thought it would take so long to get
anywhere, but it has."
"No sense in sitting here depressing ourselves. We might as well be
useful and wash the dishes," Ellen said, getting up. "She picked up some
dishes and took them to the kitchen.
"I don't think this is exactly what Micky had in mind when he told us
to get acquainted," Mike said to himself, gathering up some dishes and
joining her in the kitchen.
"What did you think of me the first time you saw me?" Ellen asked a few
minutes later.
"Oh, I don't know, I guess that you just seemed so sad ad alone and I
thought it was terrible because you were so young and pretty. And of
course I wondered who Jeffery was. What did you think of me?"
"I thought you were crazy, but also sweet because you cared. Thanks to
you we made a profit."
"Did I really go that much? I lost count somewhere around five."
They both laughed at this, forgetting the nervousness of before.
"We better finish the dishes," Ellen said. She reached into the sink
for another dish. "Ouch."
"What's wrong?" Mike asked.
"I think I cut my hand," she said.
Mike took her hand and carefully examined it. "It's just a scratch," he
said. "It's not even bleeding. Does it hurt?"
"Just a little bit," she said.
"My mother has a wonderful cure for things like this." He gently kissed
her palm. "Feel better?"
She didn't say anything, she didn't have to. The look in her eyes said
it all. She wanted more and he was willing to oblige the unspoken
request. He took her in his arms and pulled her close to him. It felt
better than he had imagined it would. Just as his lips were about to
touch hers, there was a knock at the door. Mike thought as he reluctantly let go of Ellen.
the Writer thought back at him.
"They're back," Ellen said, upset that the moment had been ruined.
"I don't think so," Mike said. "They wouldn't knock, even if they
thought it was needed. It's probably somebody else." He opened the door.
"Oh, hi, Mr. Babbit. What can I do for you?"
"Keep down the noise," he said. Mr. Babbit did not look well, even
worse than usual. He looked like he hadn't slept much lately and he
seemed to be in a much worse mood.
"We weren't making any noise," Mike said. "We were just washing the
dishes."
"Are you sure that's all? Who's that?"
"That's all we were doing," Mike told him. "That's Ellen, she was
helping me with the dishes."
"Well, do it quietly," Mr. Babbit said and left.
"Charming man," Ellen said. "Who is he?"
"That was Mr. Babbit, the landlord. He doesn't like us very much," Mike
explained.
"That's obvious. I don't think we were being noisy."
"I don't think so, either. I think something's wrong with him. I hope
it's nothing serious, I'd hate to have to break in a new landlord. Now,
where were we?"
Before she could say anything, Micky, Davy, and Peter returned with the
ice cream. "We just saw Babbit," Micky said, handing Mike some ice
cream. "What was he doing here?"
"He thought we were making too much noise, but we weren't," Mike told
him.
"What were you doing?" Peter asked.
"We were washing the dishes," Mike said.
Micky didn't let Mike see he was disappointed. He had hoped for more.
Maybe there was still hope. "How's the ice cream?" he asked to change
the subject.
"It's not Blue Bell, but it will have to do," Mike told him.
"What's Blue Bell?" Ellen asked.
"It's the best ice cream, but you can only get it in Texas," Mike told
her. "Next time I go home, I'm going to get some."
"I've never been to Texas," Ellen said, "but I've always wanted to go.
I'm sure it's nice."
"It's wonderful. Maybe someday I can take you there," he said and
winked at her.
"How long has it been since you've been home?" she asked.
"About a year or so, but I don't miss it that much. I do miss a few
people, especially Ana, but I hear from her a lot so it's not too bad."
"Who's Ana? Micky said something about her earlier, but you didn't
explain who she is."
"Ana is a friend," Mike told her. "My best friend really. We've known
each other since we were five years old and we've been through a lot
together. She has a tendency to get in trouble a lot because she has
these weird theories about the government and aliens. You would have to
know her to understand." Ana was not very easy to explain. In all the
years he had known her, he still didn't completely understand her.
"She sounds interesting," Ellen said.
"Why don't you play that tape she sent you, Mike," Micky said. He
wasn't quite sure why things were getting sidetracked, but it might be
important. As long as the Writer didn't mess with his hair, he didn't
care.
"This may help explain a few things," Mike said as he set up the tape
player and started it.
"Hey, Mike, it's Ana. Just thought I would tell you what's going on
around here. I'm sure you're busy with your music and stuff. Remember me
when you get famous.
"Your mother says she misses you. I guess I miss you, too. It's not as
much fun getting in trouble by myself." There was a pause as if the
recording had been interrupted.
"I'm back, went to Brenham and I think I have proof this time. I went
to the factory, just to see what was going on. It's not easy to slip
away during one of those tours, but I did it. They got a new shipment
today. I took some pictures, but they broke my camera when they found
me. I'll try again.
"There is a positive side to this. I met a guy, his name is Will
Carter. He's a photographer and he fixed my camera for me. He believes
me, says he has evidence. He's really nice, Mike, and I think you would
like him. I love him. It's wonderful, my life has purpose again.
"Speaking of love lives, how's yours?"
Mike thought.
"Don't be scared, I'm sure Ellen is a nice girl. You just have to
forget the past."
Mike quickly turned off the tape before they could hear the rest.
"Sometimes Ana talks too much," he said.
"You told her about me?" Ellen asked, not sure how she felt about it.
Mike didn't know what to say. He hadn't wanted her to hear that part.
At least she didn't hear everything. He didn't have to explain about
Jennifer. "She's my best friend," he said. "We have no secrets, it's a
promise we made to each other a long time ago when we were kids. She
really is a nice person."
Sensing the tension, Micky decided it was time to change the subject.
"Hey, it's getting late and we promised Ellen we would play for her."
"Then I guess we better do that," Mike said, very relieved at the
change.
"What are we going to play?" Peter asked when they got set up.
Mike didn't say anything, just started playing. The others recognized
the song and began to play as Mike started to sing.
"Girl, you look mighty good to me,
And I know that you got to be
The Kind of girl I could love.
You got the sweetest pair of eyes
and your kiss would be paradise
The kind of girl I could love.
You do something to my soul
that no one's ever done
If you're looking for true love
then let me be the one.
Oh, girl, deep in my soul I'm sure
and my heart has no doubt that you're
the kind of girl I could love."
"That was wonderful," Ellen said when the song was finished. "I'd love
to hear more, but it is getting late and I have to go home."
"How are you going?" Mike asked.
"I came on the bus, so I thought I would take the bus home."
"They stop running at ten and it's almost eleven now," he said. "I'll
give you a ride. It's not too far."
"Uh, Mike," Ellen said when they were in the car. "I have a friend who
has some connections in the music business. I could talk to him and see
if he could help you."
"That would be great," Mike answered. "I'm getting tired of playing
small gigs. The big break is just around the corner and when it happens,
I won't have to worry about anything again."
"You're very optimistic," she said, smiling at him.
He smiled back. "You caught me on a good night," he said. "There have
been times when I've thought it all a foolish dream, but I've put too
much time and energy into it to give up now."
A few minutes later, they arrived at her apartment. "I'll walk up with
you," he said. "It is late and I don't want anything to happen to you."
She didn't argue with him as he took her hand in his. She felt safe
with him and she knew she could trust him.
"I really did love the song," she told him when they were inside. "And
I had a wonderful time."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said. "I wanted to tell you earlier how
incredible you look tonight." He gently took her in his arms and held
her close. "It's been a long time since I felt like this about anybody.
I knew you were something special the first time I saw you. I just
wanted you to know that." He told her the best way he could, he just
hoped she understood.
"I understand," she said and smiled at him, such a wonderful smile that
he couldn't resist her. He leaned down and kissed her gently. After a
few seconds, he deepened the kiss.
For the first time in a long time she felt alive and complete. When the
kiss finally ended, she didn't say anything, just took his hand and led
him to the bedroom.
The next morning.
"Where's Mike?" Davy asked at breakfast. It had been another rough
night for him and he hadn't slept well at all.
"I haven't seen him since last night," Micky said. "What about you,
Pete?"
"I haven't seen him or the car," Peter said.
They all rushed upstairs to the bedroom. "His bed hasn't been slept
in," Davy observed.
"I guess he never came home," Micky said.
"I wonder where he is," Peter said. Micky and Davy just glared at him.
"Oh."
"What should we do?" Davy asked.
"Nothing," Micky said. "We just wait for him to come home on his own."
Back at Ellen's.
Mike woke up wondering why he had been allowed to sleep so late and why
he still felt tired. Then he remembered he wasn't at home, he was at
Ellen's. No wonder he was still tired, he hadn't gotten much sleep the
night before.
What was supposed to happen next? It wasn't like he had much experience
in situations like this. He certainly hadn't planned for things to turn
out like this, although he had thought about it. He was not unhappy with
the events of the previous evening, just a little unsure of what to do
next. He loved Ellen, he really did, he just wasn't sure if the
relationship could survive after the night before. The last time
something like that had happened, the relationship was ruined. He didn't
want that to happen again. They could make it work, he knew they could.
Ellen came in while he was getting dressed. She had already been up for
a while and had plenty of time to think about the night before. She had
only done something like that one time before and it hadn't worked out.
She didn't want that to happen this time. She loved Mike and wanted to
continue a relationship with him, but only as long as he understood that
what had happened the night before would not happen all the time.
"So what happens now?" she asked.
"I don't know," he said, "but I do know I'd like to see you again
sometime, just the two of us." He kissed her softly. "I'd love to stay,
but I have to go. I'll call you later and we can talk or something." He
kissed her again, more passionately this time, hoping that it could
convey all his feelings to her.
A long time later he reluctantly pulled away. "I have to go now," he
said. "Last night was incredible, all of it."
She didn't say anything, just silently nodded. She wanted to ask him to
stay, at least just to hold her a little longer, but she didn't. They
had a lot of time for things like that. He hadn't said it, but she knew
everything would work out.
"Where have you been?" Micky asked Mike when he returned.
"I was at Ellen's," he said.
"All night?" Davy asked.
"Yes."
"What did you do?" Peter asked.
"None of your business," Mike answered.
"Oh," Peter said.
"I'm going to bed," Mike said, heading upstairs.
"Didn't you sleep at Ellen's?" Micky asked.
"Not very much," Mike answered. "Please don't disturb me for a long
time." He shut the door.
"Gentlemen," Micky said with a smile, "I think this was a big success."
"What now?" Peter asked.
"We wait until the next story," Micky answered.
"What happens then?" Davy asked. "Do I get a girl?"
"I don't know," Micky said. "We have to wait like everybody else."
The End
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