March 1966
Everything simmers before it boils
The strong afternoon sunlight beams into the windows of the Malibu beach house. Davy stirs from the sun's warmth. He smiles. Nothing feels better than uninterrupted sleep. Davy yawns and stretches his body with a groan of relief.
A few moments after he hears his roommate stirring, Micky glances at the alarm clock, "We slept eleven hours." The lanky boy sits up and rubs his face, "I wonder if Mike and Peter are up?" As if this question was a cue in a movie, a soft rap vibrates the door.
Mike pokes in through the opening, "Ya'll awake?"
"Physically? Yes. Mentally? Give us another 30 minutes and a vat of coffee. Oh, and a neck massage, if time permits." Micky gives a smug grin.
Mike plays along and tosses back a little sarcasm, "Would you like me to serve you in bed, your majesty or will you grace us at the breakfast table with your royal ass?"
"Wow, all this time and I didn't know you serve breakfast in bed. Glad to know I have options, Mike." Micky gives a hardy laugh and Davy tosses a pillow at Micky.
Mike rolls his eyes, "I dare you to make such a request. You'll find eggs under your covers." And without warning, the stately man leaves the room as quickly as he entered.
Davy glances at Micky, "Mike definitely got enough sleep. He is in full form."
Micky stops laughing and agrees that was not an idle threat.
The duo joins their friends at the table. Peter notices Mr. Schneider lying on the floor, "Can't you sit still Mr. Schneider?"
"You really need therapy Petah." As Davy helps Peter lift the life size dummy back onto to the stool, Peter sticks out his tongue to Davy's insult.
Peter admits to several slow moments but is far from stupid. He cannot stop wondering how Mr. Schneider could shift to the middle of the room last night and then to the floor this morning. Their resident dummy sits in the corner watching over the comings and goings of the beach house for several years without one strange occurrence. Why now? Why won't his friends admit to moving him? What if it isn't the guys? A creepy thought indeed. In no way does he want to live with a possessed dummy.
"Okay Pete?...Pete? I said, okay?" Mike jerks him back into the breakfast conversation.
"Huh?"
"Welcome back Peter. Did you have a nice trip to la la land?" Micky teases.
"Sorry. I, just….What?"
The guys shake their heads in amusement. "We should unpack the equipment and take a run to April's Laundry. Pick up food at the market." Mike repeats himself for Peter's benefit.
"Ahh…sure." Peter nods in agreement.
As the boys finish cleaning their brunch dishes, the phone rings.
"I got it. It's probably the lovely but shy Claire." Davy wiggles his eyebrows up and down. "'Ello?... 'Ello? Claire? Anyone?" The phone clicks dead.
Davy shakes his head, "I guess it's a wrong dial."
A clap of hands, "Well the faster we unload the equipment and run errands, the sooner we can mellow out." Mike moves to the middle of the disaster in the living room deciding on where to begin.
The boys quickly unpack and set up their instruments and equipment in their usual spots. Each stopping at various times to admire the gorgeous weather and the local bikini volleyball league practicing down the beach.
Mike drags the empty instrument and equipment cases to the hall closet. He opens the door only to notice a blanket and personal mementoes scattered on the floor. 'The guys must have knocked the knick-knacks off of the shelf while pulling the cases out.' he thought. After cleaning up the items and folding the blanket neatly, Mike stacks the bins and shut the door behind him.
The phone begins to ring. Mike reaches for the receiver but Davy snatches it up. Mike shrugs and keeps walking "'Ello? This is Davy speaking…'ello? Uh, hello? Anyone there?" The phone, once again, goes dead.
"You know. Don't take this personally but I don't think lovely Claire wants to speak to you." Micky taunts.
Peter snorts out a laugh, "Well, she is shy."
"Funny. You two are a barrel of lau…" Davy begins.
"Monkeys?" Mike finishes Davy's insult with a snicker.
"Shut it!" as Davy and the guys fall into a laughing fit.
A knock on their front door interrupts the friends' insult fest. "I got it" Micky reaches for the door.
Micky opens it to a familiar face. "Phaedra." He reaches his arms around her torso to pull her close to him. "How are you?"
"Hiya, sunshine. Miss me?" asks the smiling girl.
"ALWAYS!" as the thin lanky man squeezes her tighter.
The remaining friends snatch the fun-size blonde away from Micky's clutches to give their close friend hugs and kisses. She feels like home to each of them. The guys met the devoted friend shortly after forming the band. She not only supports the band, Phaedra shares a unique bond with each member. Through the years, she mended their broken hearts and listened to their hopes and fears. It's bitter sweet, though. As Phaedra watches her friends becoming more successful, the less she sees of the quartet. As hard as it is to admit, the distancing hurt.
"So, how did the tour go? Any industry attend to the shows?" she inquires.
The funny thing about Phaedra, she never really cares to hear about their personal conquests. Women throw themselves at the boys on a regular basis and it's her job to keep them safe, giving her a great sense of pride to ward off the pushy groupies. No doubt, she loves her shaggy topped men.
"If industry came, they ain't approach us with any offers." Mike sound defeated. Phaedra reaches for his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze and whispers, "It'll happen. I promise." The girl's eyes reveal her true faith in their talent. Mike shoots a half smile back to her.
Phaedra could always talk Mike down from anger or sadness. An amazing trait the other men long admired.
The moment broke as the phone begins to ring. Mike grumbles, "This better not be another lovely but shy Claire hang up."
"Huh? Did Claire break up with you?" she gives a blank look at Davy.
Davy gulped, "No. At least I hope not." Phaedra's face scrunches up in confusion.
Mike stops the ringing vessel, "Hello?...Yes, this is Mike Nesmith…Oh hi, yes... Good. Thanks..." He proceed with small talk and few more yeses and noes. After a few minutes, Mike plops the receiver back into the cradle and turns to face the anxious group. "Guess who's playing the Groovy Zoo?" Excitement erupts.
'Maybe this explains the odd hang-ups. The manager, CJ, probably tried calling and for some reason experienced connection issues or was interrupted. Yup. It makes sense. Sure.' Mike half-heartedly accepts his own justification.
"ALRIGHT!" they chant breaking Mike's rhyme and reasoning. In the enthusiasm, Peter wraps his arms around Phaedra and swings her around. She smiles up at him and puts her hand on his cheek. He is taken back when his dick twitches from her touch. Peter never felt that happen before. He steps back as Micky wraps his arms around her from behind and kisses her cheek as Davy bounces around them.
The Monkees never played at the Groovy Zoo. They almost filled in for a band that canceled last minute, but to their disappointment, it fell through. The quartet knew this could lead to a string of steady gigs in a great venue. The club often attracts big name promoters and celebs. This indeed is a great opportunity.
Mike breaks his friends' high. "We'll celebrate tonight. But first, laundry and the marketing awaits."
The guys protest in unison. Peter gently pulls Mike to the side, "Do you mind if I stay here? I kind of need to talk to Phaedra about something."
Mike shrugs. "I think we can manage without your expert laundering skills."
"Thanks."
Micky and Davy sling the bags of laundry over their backs and move to the door. "See 'ya later beautiful." Micky winks at Phaedra. Davy and Mike give a wave good-bye.
"Bye guys. Talk to you later."
The door closed behind his friends. Peter could hear the Monkeemobile pull out of the drive. The sandy blonde plops down on the sofa and Phaedra sits next to him. She tucks her legs underneath her body to face Peter. "You look like you need to talk." Her interest piques, "Did someone break your heart? Because I have no problems hunting down the little troll and beating her with a tacky hair piece."
Peter fills with warmth at the humorous remark. 'Wow. When she smiles, her face illuminates. How did I not notice this before? I must be blind and stupid. I wonder if she feels...No, I'm just a friend. Plain 'ol reliable Peter.'
"Peter?" she interrupts his gaping look, "Are you alright?"
"Yes…No…I don't know. Do you ever experience unexplainable moments and you can't come up with an answer as to why or how it happened? Or even when it happened? It makes no rational sense." He rambles on, "And your head becomes consumed with the need for answers?"
Phaedra widens her eyes and gives the determined man a long empty stare.
Not sure whether he is speaking about Mr. Schneider, the telephone hang-ups or his feelings suddenly changing for the girl sitting an arm's length away, Peter continues, "I mean, there are reasons for everything, right?"
"Peter, you lost me the moment after I asked if you were alright." Phaedra reaches for Peter's hand gently massaging it. She sees his lips battling to come up with the right words.
Knowing the confusion he created, Peter shifts the conversation, "Did you move Mr. Schneider?"
She blinked a few times and shook her head. "Uh, what? Mr. Schneider? What does Mr. Schneider…Peter are you okay? You seem anxious. I worry about you."
"Really…Me?"
"Of course I do. " She squeezes his hand and pulls him into a hug. Peter returns the hug and rests his head on the available shoulder. The scent of Phaedra's perfume intoxicates the scattered boy.
"I feel like my life isn't my own. It's just weird right now. So much change. The guys seem to handle the pressure of all the gigs better than me. I sometimes feel left behind. All of the attention makes me want to run. But I don't know if I want to run towards the crowd or away from it." Peter airs his thoughts out loud for the first time.
"Peter, you will never be left behind. Mike, Davy and Micky are your brothers, your friends and your family. They love you. I love you." Phaedra kisses Peter's temple. Peter's adjusts his body trying to hide his ever growing hard on.
"Thanks. You always know how to brighten my day." He wants to say so much more but cannot muster up the nerve. After an eternity of quiet, Peter tries to lighten the conversation, "So, what about you? Anything exciting in the life of Phaedra?"
She releases a snort, "As exciting as always. I'm hunky dory. I am teaching extra classes at the dance studio. So now I am working six days a week instead of four. I hear giggling girls and tap dancing in my sleep. Slowly I'm losing my sanity. At least, I am making great money. I just have no social life whatsoever. Speaking of a lack of life, I need to get home because I am teaching tonight."
"I'll walk you home." Peter offers her a hand standing up. He lifts the petite girl off the couch. She stumbles into Peter's arms. The couple lock eyes for what feels like forever.
Phaedra lets out a small breath breaking the stare. Moving towards the door, Peter follows the girl out and down the stairs to the beach. The two barely speak as they stroll through the sand, their hands occasionally touching. Phaedra's thoughts spin back to the moment by the couch. She feels her body shiver. In all the years of friendship, the bassist never once hint of more than just a friendship. The feelings begin to heat the lower half of her body.
As the couple approaches the small bungalow, Peter nervously faces the attractive blonde, "Well…I guess I'll see you later?" Phaedra nods yes. "Sure. Let me know if you need to talk again, okay?" His arms embrace her body closing the gap between them. Their strong bodies press against one another. His cheek brushes against hers. Their lips dry from racing breaths. Peter closes his eyes as his lips graze against Phaedra's. She parts her lips giving him access. Their tongues barely touch before the kiss broke. The aroused girl places a hand on his chest and stares into his eyes, "See ya." Peter can only nod. The kiss sucked the words from his mouth making the man incapable of speech.
Peter watches the petite girl disappear into the house. By the time his heart stops racing, he finds himself back at the beach house. Peter climbs the stairs and enters the empty pad. His hard on grows unbearable with thoughts of the embrace and kiss. The frustrated man unzips and slides a hand over the hard member.
BANG! Peter jumps and scans the living room, "Mike, Micky, Davy, you home?" The anxious boy painfully zips up with a grunt. Another clunk echoes through the open house. Reluctantly, the man creeps towards the storage closet flinging open the door. Shelf contents lay on the floor. Peter takes a breath of relief. 'I guess Mike knocked the items over and they finally tipped off of the shelves.'
SLAM! Peter spins around jumping to sound of the three roommates.
"You alright?" Davy asks.
"Yeah. I'm fine." Peter shuts the cupboard door. "I think the lack of sleep makes me jumpy."
"Lack of sleep? You slept eleven hours. Any more, a doctor will diagnose you as comatose." Micky interjected.
Peter gave a slight chuckle.
"Well we have pizza and beer." Mike displays the contents of a celebratory dinner.
"I'm going to put away my laundry first" Mickey exits the room. A few moments later, the curly topped man returns holding up a woman's ruffled shirt. "Davy, is there something you need to share with the rest of us?"
"Hilarious, you are." Davy inspects the blouse. "I don't wear ruffles…girl ruffles." The trio fixates on Davy's explanation. "It must have mixed in with our clothes at Aprils. We can return it tomorrow."
Later that evening, the foursome kicked back to watch an old horror film starring Vincent Price ingesting pizza, beer and little weed. The combination brings on an early exhaustion.
Once the boys fell into a deep dream like state, a shadow rolls off of the closet shelf knocking over sheets and towels. She neatly rearranges them back into their proper place. Quietly strolling through the house moving items to her liking. The girl grabs her ruffled shirt and walks out of the back door leaving it wide open.
This game is beginning to be fun. Unfortunately no one knows the rules.
