Micky spent more than an hour that very night trying his best to teach me to dance. He kept telling me to just relax, and have fun
with it. A few times it was sort of fun, and he and I and Davy, too, dissolved into fits of laughter. But, at the end of the so-called lesson,
I didn't think I'd learned anything that I'd be able to remember on a dance floor. Especially if I was with somebody like the boy I'd met earlier that evening.
I didn't mind so very much when Mike announced that it was getting late, reminding me and the others that I had school the next day.
I went off obligingly to take a shower, and then put on my fuzzy p.j.'s, going out to say goodnight to them all.
"We'll keep on practicin'," Micky told me. "You'll get the hang of it."
"Sure," Davy chimed in. "Ya already are getting it."
I gave them both a smile. "Thanks." I said my goodnights, and then paused at the door leading to the bedroom I used, turning back.
"I was thinking I'd go to see Gramps tomorrow after school," I announced. It was a thin line, as I was never sure whether to actually ask
permission to do something, or just announce that I was doing so. The guys weren't very bossy, or authoritative, really, hardly at all. Still, every once
in awhile one of them would get sort of unexpectedly quirky about me doing something. Still, I knew they wanted me to see my grandfather as
much as possible, and lots of times one of them would volunteer to go along with me. I really especially liked it when it was Pete who went with me. Though
I'd never let on to that, cause I wouldn't want to hurt the other's feelings.
I briefly tacked on, "Is it alright if I go?" when they didn't immediately respond.
"What bus would ya take?" Davy asked me.
"It's the four-ten," I reminded him.
"That's the one ya have to change two times," he mussed, looking thoughtful.
"Uh huh," I said.
"Well, I can't go," he said, and then looked around the room at the other guys. "Can any of you go with her-"
There was a brief discussion about next-day schedules, and things, and it seemed as though they all had something to do
the next afternoon. Things they'd already committed to doing.
"That's okay," I interrupted. "I can go alone. I used to do it all the time. Remember?"
That wasn't the right thing to say, either, I could tell, because it reminded them all that I'd been in a fine fix when we'd all met and gotten
to be friends. I hadn't been managing myself well at all then.
I hastened to right it. "I won't stay long at all," I promised. "It'll be fine."
"Why don't ya wait?" Davy suggested. "On Saturday, then? Maybe we'll all go?"
"Davy, it's been over a week," I said. "He'll be wondering about me."
"Give him a call," Peter suggested. "Tell him you're coming on Saturday."
"It's too late to call now," I pointed out.
"Call tomorrow night," Micky said. "Or maybe in the morning, early, before school-"
"It'll be fine if I go, guys," I coaxed. They were all looking at me, all serious-like, and I added a sincere, "Please?"
"Bethie, we wished ya would wait till Saturday," Davy said.
"Yeah, that's right," Peter said, giving me an imploring look.
"Nothing is going to happen to me," I said, stubbornly. "I think it's silly that you all think that I can't ride the bus there, by myself,
without getting kidnapped or something-"
"Remember that time that guy on the bus wierded out?" Peter said, looking concerned.
I did remember. And I'd been glad that Peter was there with me, that day.
Still. "That was only one time," I said, in protest.
For the first time in the entire conversation, Mike spoke up. "Saturday'd be best," he said, in his quiet drawl.
I looked at him in somewhat surprise. He didn't say much, but when he did...like now, a person got what he was saying, quiet or no.
I found that I didn't particularly want to press any further. I guessed it wasn't such a big deal, to wait until Saturday to visit Gramps. And, besides that,
I didn't want to get into a fuss with the guys for real. I'd seen Davy angry once, and that had been enough. I had no desire to see Mike angry.
"Okay," I said, trying to sound agreeable.
"Great," Davy said, in obvious relief. He gave me a winning smile, and came over to drop a kiss on my forehead.
"We'll stop and get malts," Pete said.
"Okay," I said, again, in agreement.
There was a knock at the door, and I waited long enough to see that it was the girl from next door, asking how the evening's
gig had gone at the birthday party.
"Hit the hay," Davy told me, giving me a small push towards my bedroom.
DPMM
I awoke to the strange feeling that something was amiss the next morning. I wasn't sure why, or what, I couldn't put my finger on it.
Peter had been walking with me to school mostly, but I'd told him the day before that he didn't have to. He'd made me promise that if I had
any problems with Sasha that I would tell him.
That morning, he paused beside me as I was pouring myself a bowl of cereal.
"You sure you don't want me to tag along?" Peter asked me.
"You don't have to." I tried to shake off the funny feeling I had.
"I'd be glad to do it," he said.
"Pete. Really, you don't have to," I said.
"Okay. Well, the offer stands," he said, with a grin.
"I know. I'll remember."
He gave a brief nod, and a gentle pat to my cheek.
I poured milk over my Cheerios, thinking, for the one-thousandth time, that I'd gotten darn lucky when I'd met all of them.
Monkees
