"Don't call on me when you're feeling footloose and fancy free..."
"I'll get it!" exclaims Mona. She picks up the phone. "Hello?"
"Toppy, is that you?"
Mona instantly recognizes the voice at the other end as her sister, Lizzie. "No, it's a robot facsimile. Of course, it's me."
"Stop. This isn't the time for jokes."
Mona immediately senses the gravity in Lizzie's tone. "What's wrong?"
"It's Dad."
"What about him? Is he okay?"
"No. He's dead."
"WHAT?!" Mona screams so loud, Mike comes rushing into the room. "Oh my stars! This is awful. What happened? When did he pass?" Mona struggles to hold back tears.
"This morning. They think he had a heart attack."
"Is Ma okay?"
"She's at home."
"Where are you?"
"I'm at school. I'm calling from the office phone. Katie's mom is coming to pick me up."
"Okay. Tell Ma that we'll need a day to make arrangements here, but Michael and I will be out there as soon as we can."
"Okay. Toppy..."
"What?"
"I love you."
"I love you too, Lizzie."
Mona hangs up the phone and starts bawling. Mike scoops her up into his arms, and tells her that he loves her and that everything will be okay. He doesn't know exactly what just happened, but Mona's tears tell him that whatever it is, it isn't good.
Mona gathers herself together enough to say, "He's gone."
"Who's gone?" Mike asks.
"My dad."
"Gone where?"
"Heaven."
"Oh... That kind of 'gone.'"
"Sadly, yes."
"Oh babe, I'm so sorry." Mike hugs her again, and she goes limp with despair. She buries herself into Mike's chest and starts crying. Mike murmurs, "Let's get you up to bed."
As soon as Mike tucks Mona into bed, she buries herself in the covers and bawls her eyes out. Mike can still hear her muffled sobs as he walks downstairs. "I've got to make some plans," he thinks to himself. He walks over to the phone and dials the studio switchboard.
"Bob Rafelson, please."
"He's in a meeting now. May I take a message?"
"No, it's important."
"Who may I say is calling?"
"It's Nesmith."
"Oh hello, Michael."
"Hi. I don't have time..." Before Mike can finish his sentence, the operator transfers him to Bob's phone.
"Rafelson. This better be good..."
"Hey Bob, it's Nesmith."
"Snide! So nice of you to join us. I was just discussing this week's schedule with your compadres."
Michael gets the sneaking suspicion that this is not a good time. "Bob, it's about Mona."
Bob's tone turns from agitated to concerned, "What about Jensen?"
"Her dad passed away this morning."
"Oh no. I'm... sorry to hear that."
"We'll be leavin' for Connecticut as soon as I can charter a plane."
"You better hope that you can..." What Bob really means by that is, "You better not fly that plane your damn self." Mike recently earned the passenger endorsement to his pilot license and has already taken a few spur of the moment trips with Mona. Then Bob asks Mike, "When will you be back?"
"Probably in 'bout a week."
"Probably?"
"Ya know how these things go, Bob."
"You have one week, starting today. Show business waits for no one, including Death himself. Capiche?"
"Roger that." Mike hangs up before Bob can change his mind.
Bob turns to the other three Monkees, "Did you hear that boys? We're down one Monkee and one ringmaster."
After a brief pause, Davy breaks the awkward silence, "That's terrible news about Mona's dad."
"Yeah, it is. I know what it's like to lose my dad. That sucks for poor Mona," adds Micky.
"Guys, Bob, we should go over there and help them get ready. Mike shouldn't do this all by himself," suggests Peter.
"What? He's a big boy. I'm sure that hillbilly can handle it himself," scoffs Davy. Bob nods in agreement.
Peter straightens up and declares, "But he's our hill... er... friend. And Mona too. And friends help each other in times of need."
Davy sneers back, "Friend? Speak for yourself."
Micky smacks Davy upside the head, "He's your friend too, Midget."
"Okay, boys. Take the rest of the day off and go help Snide and Jensen."
"Thanks, Bob," states Micky with slight sarcasm.
"Yeah, thanks Bob," chimes in Peter.
The boys bundle out of Bob's office. Once in the parking lot, Peter asks, "Should we take the Monkeemobile?"
"Sure!" exclaims Micky.
"Fellas, do ya think we ought to?" Davy asks with a hint of skepticism.
"Yes, we should because I still have the keys," declares Micky while climbing into the driver's seat. The rest of the boys follow into the souped-up GTO.
Meanwhile, Mike's going through his mental checklist of things he still needs to do, and Mona's still in bed watering the sheets with her tears. Mike goes up to check on her. "Still sobbing," he thinks to himself, "Should I disturb her?" Just then, she peeks her head out from under the covers.
"Babe?" she squeaks.
"Yeah?"
"Get me a glass of water, please."
"Sure, babe."
Mike goes into the bathroom and comes out with a glass of water. He hands it to Mona. She takes a sip and then retreats back into her fuzzy cocoon. Mike goes back downstairs and calls his doctor. Surely he'll have something that can calm Mona's nerves.
"Dr. Mann's office."
"Hi! This is Robert Nesmith. I'm a patient here."
"Yes, Mr. Nesmith?"
"Is Dr. Mann available for house calls today?"
"Hold on, let me check. What's this for?"
"My wife. She just found out her dad died an' let's just say she's not takin' it very well."
"Okay." The receptionist places Mike on hold and checks. "Mr. Nesmith?"
"Ma'am? I'm still here."
"Yes, Dr. Mann is on his way now. You still at 1172 Antelo Place in Bel-Air?"
"Yes. Thank you, Ma'am."
"Good day." The receptionist hangs up.
Next on Mike's to-do list is securing a charter flight to Hartford, Connecticut. He calls the airport.
"Transcontinental Charters, Marlene speaking."
"Hey, Marlene. It's Michael Nesmith."
"Hello, Mr. Nesmith. Where are we flyin' to today?"
"Hartford, Connecticut."
"Ooh. Cross-country. That won't be ready for a few hours."
"That's fine. When's the earliest?"
"Three-thirty this afternoon."
"Done. We'll be there. Thanks, Marlene."
"You're welcome, Mr. Nesmith."
As soon as Mike hangs up the phone, he hears furious knocking at the door. "Why don't they ever use the damned doorbell?" he mutters to himself. He opens the door and three animated Monkees barrel inside.
"Hey, guys!"
"Hey, Mike. We heard the news about Mona's dad," states Micky.
Davy adds his condolences, "Yeah, man. So sorry to hear that."
"Yeah, that's awful, Michael," adds Peter.
"Thanks, guys. Mona's upstairs bawling like a baby. She's real tore up right now."
"As is to be expected," explains Dr. Mann.
"Dr. Mann!" Mike exclaims, "How did you get in here?"
"The door was cracked open."
"Well, I'm glad you could make it. Do you have anything you could give her to calm her down? See, we're fixin' to fly out to Connecticut an' I'm afraid she'll try to jump out the plane in mid-air."
Dr. Mann scratches his chin and ponders Mike's question. "I think I have just the thing for your wife, Mr. Nesmith."
"What's that?"
"Benzodiazepam. It should calm her down but not make her catatonic. I'll give her the lowest dose. Just remember not to let her drink any alcohol while taking these."
"Why not? Just out of curiosity."
"Because it says so right on the bottle!" Peter exclaims. Peter lifts up the bottle and shoves it in Mike's face. Mike reads the label.
"Well, these'll have to do. Thanks, Dr. Mann."
"That'll be fifty dollars, please." Mike hands Dr. Mann a fifty-dollar bill from his wallet. Mike shows Dr. Mann to the door.
"Hey, Pete!"
"Yeah, Michael."
"Maybe you ought to go give Mona her calming pills."
"Why me?"
"Because she don't know that I take uppers, that's why."
"Oh, okay."
Mike picks up the pill bottle and takes out one pill. He hands the pill to Peter, who then takes it to Mona.
When Peter reaches the landing, he nearly trips over Mona's Savannah cat, Charlie Brown. The door to the master bedroom is cracked open, yet Peter knocks on the door anyway.
"Michael, is that you?" calls out a tiny voice.
Peter sits on the foot of the bed. "No, Mona. It's me, Peter."
"Peter?! Thanks for coming to visit me. I'm sorry I'm a mess."
"It's okay, Mona. I understand."
"Thank you."
"I'd ask how you're feeling right now, but that's a bit obvious."
Mona softly laughs and cracks a tiny smile.
Peter continues, "Michael told me to give you this." Peter shows Mona the white pill.
"What's that?"
"It's something to calm you down."
"To what? Why?"
"Because Michael's worried about you."
"Did you give him these, Peter?"
Peter thinks carefully about his answer because he doesn't want to betray Michael's confidence nor does he want to lie to Mona. "No, I didn't give these to him."
Peter braces for Mona to keep digging, but to his surprise, she lets the matter rest, "Well, if Michael thinks it's best, then I trust him." He hands Mona the pill and her water from the nightstand. She takes the pill and swallows it. She washes it down with a sip of water and hands the glass back to Peter. He places it back onto the nightstand. Just as Peter is about to get up from the bed, the other three guys come barging in. Mike opens a closet door and takes out their Louis Vuitton luggage set: two suitcases, two garment bags, and a train case.
"Hey, guys. Here's the plan: I'll take Mona into the bathroom, so she can get ready and pack the train case. Y'all pack the suitcases an' garment bags. My closet's on the right an' hers is on the left. Pack her a black dress fit for a funeral an' pack me my black suit an' a light purple tie. Oh, an' socks an' underwear are in the top drawers."
The other three Monkees jump to attention, salute, and shout in unison, "Yes, sir!"
Mike shakes his head and lets out a tiny laugh. He gingerly approaches the bed and lifts the covers, bracing for her to come out swinging.
"Mona, babe."
Mona groans a bit. The pill has started to kick in and has made her somewhat groggy. "What, babe?"
"Let's get you up and ready. The plane leaves in a few hours."
Mona sits up and then crashes back down into her pillows. Micky sees this, and helps Mike get Mona up and steady on her feet. Micky then helps Mike get her into the bathroom. Davy follows them with the train case.
"Thanks, Mick. Thanks, Midget."
"No problemo, Mike," replies Micky. He walks over to Mike's bureau where Peter's standing in awe of the rows of underwear, neatly rolled and organized by color.
Micky warns Peter, "Hey Pete, watch out! Those drawers might be boobytrapped."
Peter takes out one of Mona's bras and holds it up to his chest and deadpans, "You mean like this?"
Micky and Davy respond, "No, Peter."
Peter frowns and puts Mona's bra into her suitcase. Next, Micky opens Mona's closet to search for a black dress "fit for a funeral," as Mike had instructed. He flips through her closet, oohing and ahhing over her fashionable wardrobe. He finds the green paisley layered silk gown that she wore to the last Emmy awards show and takes it out. He places it over his chest and twirls around, pretending he's wearing it.
Micky chants, "Tra-la-la-la-la" while spinning around the room. The others laugh at his antics. Micky continues spinning around, egged on by his friends' laughter. Then, the unthinkable happens: Micky trips over Mona's dress and tears the bottom of it.
"Shit!" Micky shouts. He lifts Mona's dress off the ground and holds it up. He looks as if he's about to cry.
Mike hears Micky shouting and charges out of the bathroom, fuming, "What in tarnation is goin' on out here? Can't y'all pack some suitcases without..." Mike's voice trails off when he sees Mona's dress and the look on Micky's face. "Mick, what happened?" Mike calmly inquires of the drummer.
"I... I'm... I'm sorry, Mike. I didn't mean to rip it."
"I know, man. Just put away the dress. I'll think of somethin'." Mike thinks to himself, Goddamnit! This is all I need right now. Now I need to figure out how to fix or replace Mona's custom made evening gown. And they have the nerve to wonder why I'm aggravated all the time.
Now, the guys complete their tasks in silence. Micky comes back from the closet with a black skirt suit. He places it in Mona's garment bag. Then, he goes back into the closet to find the matching shoes and hat. Davy places Mike's suit and tie in his garment bag. Peter places Mike's underclothes in his suitcase and Mona's in hers.
Mike asks, "Hey Pete, did you remember Mona's slips and stockings?"
"Yes, Michael."
"Very well. Don't forget to pack us some casual clothes. Y'all know what we wear." He then returns to the bathroom. Mona has dressed and finished packing the train case.
"What happened out in the bedroom?"
"Nothing," Mike lies, "I just had to give them a few more instructions, that's all."
"Oh, okay. Babe, please pack my robe and my pyjamas."
"Shit! I almost forgot about pyjamas. Thanks for reminding me, babe."
Mike gathers their pyjamas from the bathroom, folds them neatly, and places them into their respective suitcases. The guys finish packing Mike and Mona's casual clothes. Then the guys pack the luggage into the Monkeemobile. Mike locks the house and then helps Mona into the GTO. He climbs in and off they all go to the private gate of LAX.
Mike and Mona walk up to the Transcontinental Charters ticket desk.
"Hello. How may I help you?" the desk clerk cheerfully greets them.
"My name's Mike Nesmith an' I've a charter scheduled for three-thirty."
The clerk checks the day's flight schedule and confirms, "Yes, Mr. Nesmith. Here are your boarding passes." The clerk hands Mike two boarding passes.
Mike takes the documents. "Thank you, sir."
"Please place all of your luggage over here." The clerk points to the luggage platform next to the ticket counter. Mike places the luggage onto it.
Another attendant drives up to the ticket counter in a vehicle similar to a golf cart. The attendant states, "Your flight's ready. We can take you and Mrs. Nesmith to the plane now."
Mike helps Mona into the airport cart and slides in next to her. The attendant drives them to the awaiting aircraft. Mike helps Mona out of the cart and onto the tarmac. He holds her hand as they ascend the stairs. Once in the plane, the flight attendant guides them to the cabin. Mike helps Mona into a window seat and he sits next to her. He turns to her and asks, "How're ya feelin'?"
"Tired. If you don't mind, I'd like to sleep on the way there."
"That's fine, babe. I figgered you would. I think I'll try to catch a few winks myself." Mike kisses Mona's forehead. Mona starts snuggling into her seat. Mike taps her on the shoulder and reminds her, "Not now, babe. You gotta sit up until we take off."
Mona groans and does her best to stay awake during the safety lecture and the takeoff operation. As soon as the plane's in the air, she's out like a light. Mike grabs a blanket and pillow. He sits down, covers them both with the blanket. He cuddles next to her and falls asleep.
Six hours later, the plane lands at Bradley International Airport. Once Mike and Mona deplane and enter the gate, Michael calls Mona's mother, Eleanor.
"Hello?"
"Is Miss Eleanor there? This is Michael."
"This is she. Oh, Michael! Have you landed yet?"
"Yes. That's why I'm callin' you. I wanted to let you know that we're stoppin' by the hotel to drop off our luggage an' will then head on over to your house."
"Hotel? What hotel? Don't be silly. You all will stay here, with Lizzie and I."
"Are you sure? We don't wanna impose on y'all."
"Impose? Nonsense. You're not imposing at all. We haven't seen you and Toppy since your wedding. You can stay in Lizzie's room. I won't take 'no' for an answer."
"Yes, Ma'am. We'll be over straight away. What's your address?"
"One-two-three-five Silver Lane in East Hartford."
"One-two-three-five Silver. Got it."
"We'll see you when you get here." Eleanor hangs up the phone.
Thirty minutes later, Michael and Mona arrive at her mom's house. Lizzie greets them, "Wow, you all showed up fast."
"We came as quickly as we could," answers Mike.
"Well, come on in. Ma says that you all get my room. I'm stuck in the 'closet.'
Mike chuckles, "The 'closet?'"
"Yeah. It's our tiny guest room. I call it the 'closet.'"
"Oh, okay."
"Hey, let me show you around and help you with your luggage." Lizzie shows Mike the house and they put away the luggage.
When they return to the living room, Mike suggests, "Hey Mona, let's put our instruments down in the basement, so they'll be out of the way."
"Before you do that, why don't you play us a song or two?" Lizzie counters.
"Sure, why not?"
"Okay," Mona quietly agrees.
"What's with Toppy?" Lizzie asks Mike.
Mike answers, "She's tired from the flight."
"I'm okay, I promise," Mona reassures Lizzie, but sounds as if she's also trying to reassure herself.
"Hey, let's show your Ma and Lizzie the banjo lick you wrote for 'Hangin' 'Round."
"You wrote that, Toppy?"
"Yes, I did. See, Michael was having a devil of a time tweaking the song and one night we jammed and he liked what I did. So, we recorded it and he showed to Peter, who also liked it. Then somehow this other banjo player named Dill ended up playing it on the record. Then I played it on the show."
"You played it on TV?" How? Which episode? I didn't see you."
"It was 'Monkees In Mexico' and 'Monkees Marooned."
"But that was Peter playing."
"Peter played too. I did the close-ups and Peter was in all of the wider shots."
"How?"
"I dressed as Peter and Bob shot me playing. You could mostly just see my arm and hand."
"Far out! But why did you play instead of him?"
"Because she wrote it," interjects Mike.
"What's that got to do with it?"
Mona answers, "It's a long story that I don't feel like getting into. Let's just play the song."
Mike and Mona enter the church and approach the table where the guest book lays open.
Mona asks Michael, "Hey, do you want to sign it or should I?"
"I'll sign for the both of us."
Michael signs the book "Michael & Ramona Nesmith, Bel-Air, CA" in his neatest penmanship. He points to his entry and declares, "See, I even wrote legibly!"
Mona smiles. "Yes, babe. You did."
Unbeknownst to Mike and Mona, Lizzie's best friend Katie sits hidden, waiting to grab Mike's autograph. When Mike and Mona enter the church sanctuary, Katie carefully tears out the page with Mike's entry. She folds the coveted guest book page and slips it into her purse. She then returns to her family's pew.
The Luncheon
"How dare they celebrate while I'm mourning?" Eleanor grumbles to Mona. "They've turned Nils's funeral into an Irish wake."
Mike overhears Eleanor complaining and wonders why she's so upset. Puzzled, he pulls Mona aside to ask her what's going on, "Why is your Ma upset at your dad's family?"
"Babe, let's take a walk and I'll explain it to you." Mona and Mike head out the door to the courtyard. Mona continues, "See, my dad's side of the family, the Smiths, paid for this party."
"Okay. What's that got to do with anythin'?"
"Everything. Because they turned his funeral into an Irish wake."
"What's an Irish wake?"
"It's when they throw a party to celebrate the deceased person's life instead of mourning their death."
"Why is that bad?"
"Because it goes against my mother's stoic German sensibilities."
"Oh. She don't like parties?"
"No, she doesn't like happy funerals."
"Well, how do we... uh... make this shindig sad again?
"What?"
"How do we turn this party into a non-party?"
"WE don't do anything."
"Why not?"
"Because..."
"Because why?"
"Because, Michael, you don't have to fix everything that's broken. That's why."
"What's that s'posed to mean, babe?"
"It means leave well enough alone for once in your life!" Mona storms off.
Undeterred by Mona's outburst, Mike hatches a plan to dial back the happy celebration and remind Nils's family of just why they're gathered together today. Mike walks up to the bandleader and asks him, "Hey man! Can I talk to you for a sec?"
"Sure, man."
"Hey, boss. I'm the son-in-law of the deceased an' his wife Miss Eleanor."
"I know who you are. I've seen you on TV. You're the guy in the wool hat."
Mike lowers his head and sheepishly agrees, "Yes, I'm him too."
"If you think that you and your band can just take over..."
Mike interrupts the bandleader's tirade, "Hey now, wait a minute! I don't have the the other guys with me an' this ain't 'bout me, anyway."
"What's it about, kid?"
Mike thinks to himself, Kid? Who the hell is he calling a kid? but he thinks twice about saying his thoughts aloud. "Hey, my wife an' my mother-in-law are upset right now, an' not just because Mr. Smith passed. They're not happy that everyone's havin' a good time while they're grievin'. Ya dig?"
"So what do you want me to do about it?"
"I want to sing a few songs..."
"I told ya, kid. You're not going to upstage me and my band."
"No, no, no! That's not my intent. Ya see, Mr. Smith loved Frank Sinatra. An' Miss Eleanor does too. I wanna sing two songs by Sinatra an' one by Buffy Sainte-Marie. These are songs that I know will touch their hearts an' make 'em forget about this Irish wake nonsense."
"Irish wake?"
"It's when you're happy at a funeral instead of sad or somethin' to that effect. But whatever it is, it's not a good thing. An' I need to fix this."
"You seem sincere enough, kid. Alright, I'll let you have your set, but under one condition..."
"What's that?"
"No Monkee business and we don't announce you."
Mike thinks to himself, That's two conditions. Again, he decides to keep his mouth shut. "Deal."
"So, which songs are ya planning on singing?"
Mike hands the bandleader a napkin with three songs written on it.
"You're in luck, kid. The band knows all of these. They'll back you."
"Thanks!"
"When I give you the signal, you just come up on-stage and do your thing. Capiche?"
"Got it. Thanks."
"No problem."
Mike goes back to his seat and pretends like nothing happened. Mona's deep in conversation with her mom and sister. Mike puts an arm around Mona's shoulder and kisses her neck.
"Mmm..." Mona then whispers harshly, "Not now, Michael. We're in public."
"So what?" he snaps back. At this point, Mike starts to wonder whether it's grief or the pills Dr. Mann gave her that have made Mona so agitated. He removes his arm from her shoulder and heads towards the bar for a Cuba Libre. Once back at the table, Mike sips his drink in silence and anxiously awaits the bandleader's signal.
After what seems like an eternity, the bandleader signals for Mike to come up to the stage. He rises up from his seat and jogs toward the stage. The bandleader helps him up onto it and hands him the microphone. Mike takes it and announces, "This next song's called 'Last Night When We Were Young.' The pianist plays the intro and then Mike starts crooning.
Mona sighs with exasperation during the song. She thinks to herself, Why can't you just leave it be? Ellie can't take her eyes off Michael. His voice transports her to an earlier time and place. She feels the presence of Nils. In her mind, he's sitting right there next to her.
"This next one is dedicated to Mr. Smith and Miss Ellie because it's their favorite. It's called 'My Way.'" The audience claps. When the crowd dies down, Mike cues the band and he starts to croon.
Tears start streaming down Ellie's face. In her mind, she dances the night away with the love of her life. In this moment, Nils still lives and breathes. When the song ends, nothing but his memory remains. For a few minutes, Michael gives Ellie a priceless gift - joy in the face of incredible grief and sadness.
"This last song is one that my wife Mona tells me sounds like something Frank Sinatra would sing. The audience laughs. Mike continues, "It's called 'Until It's Time For You To Go.'"
Soon after Mike begins singing, Mona starts crying. His thoughtfulness overwhelms her. At the end of the song, Mike thanks the audience and takes a bow. The audience claps. Someone in the audience shouts, "Encore!"
Mike responds, "Okay one more, if it's okay with the bandleader." Mike looks over to the bandleader and he nods his head. Mike turns to the band and asks for a guitar. The bass player hands Mike a 12-string acoustic. Mike strums it to check the tuning. He addresses the audience, "This next song is one I wrote a while back, called 'Nine Times Blue.' He begins strumming the opening chords. He looks straight at Mona when he begins singing the words. He keeps his eyes on her throughout the song. Any last remnants of anger she has evaporate. When he finishes, he thanks the audience and leaves the stage before anyone else can request another song.
The bandleader takes the microphone and addresses the audience, "That was Michael Nesmith. We'll take a little break and will return with more music.
Mike takes his seat next to Mona. She turns to him and thanks him, "That was beautiful, babe."
Ellie adds, "Yes, Michael. That was so thoughtful of you. You have an incredible voice. Mona is blessed to have you as a husband. Nils would be proud."
Mike smiles. "I'm honored, Miss Eleanor."
"Please, call me, Mom."
"Okay, Mom."
A/N: Cuba Libre = A rum and Coke
