Rated: PG (just to be safe)
"I can't believe that manager. I was doing the best I could and all I got was 'Hurry up' this and 'hurry up' that. 'Get these orders moving'. The nerve of her anyway," I muttered to myself. I began to feel as though an anvil were hanging around my neck. I breathed a sigh of relief as I pulled into my driveway.
As I opened the door to my house, I'm taken aback by how clean it is. It was absolutely spotless! The whole house smelled of fresh cut lilacs as well. To my shock, Michael Nesmith was standing in my living room. He was wearing a black tuxedo and did he ever look good! He smiled at me as I stared into his dark brown eyes and reached out to touch the locks of his thick, black hair.
"How was your day?" Mike asked.
"Horrid," I replied with little enthusiasm.
"Dear Jan, why don't you go to your room and put on some comfortable pajamas? There is also a hot bubble bath drawn for you," Mike said.
"I never use that tub. It's dirty and it leaks," I said a little puzzled.
"Check for yourself," Mike said. So I entered my room, spotless of course, and spied new drapes hanging in the windows.
"It's just what I've always wanted!" I thought. I looked on the bed, made up of course, and there lay my pajamas and robe. Well, I thought they were my pajamas. I picked up the pair of blue silk pajamas and wondered how they got there. Then I found a cuddly, terry cloth robe instead of my polyester one.
"Oh wow," I thought as I rubbed the robe against my cheek.
I entered my adjoining bathroom and gasped at the sight before me. This couldn't have been my bathroom for it was twice as large as usual. The tub was twice as large too and a dozen jets swirled the bubbles all around the tub. The tub had a deck and five or six strawberry scented candles were placed all around it. I slipped out of my uniform and placed the dirty clothes down a laundry chute. I looked again in disbelief.
"Now where did that laundry chute come from?" I wondered out loud.
Deciding that nothing should surprise me at this point, I shrugged my shoulders and carefully eased myself down into the hot water. I let out a sigh and leaned back, enjoying the motion of the jets.
Music began to play from a nearby radio. All my favorites were being played: Monkee stuff, non-Monkee stuff, and even my most favorite classical pieces. Suddenly, the bathroom door opened and Peter Tork popped his head in.
"Hey," I shouted as I ducked down to my neck in the bubbles.
"I'm sorry, I've come to scrub your back," Peter said.
"Well ok," I said hesitantly, "but you have to close your eyes." So Peter began to wash my back with one hand and covered his eyes with the other. Peter began to ask me about my day. I started to tell him all about it, but was interrupted by another person entering the bathroom.
"Hey," I said as I slid down farther in the tub.
"I'm sorry luv, but I've brought you a Coca-Cola," Davy said as he offered me a tall glass filled with Coke and ice.
"Thank you," I said as I took a sip. The way things were going, I thought I would try my luck by making a small request.
"You wouldn't happen to have any cherry syrup would ya?" I asked Davy.
Davy took the drink from me and then produced a vial of red juice from his coat pocket. He poured it into the drink and then handed it back to me after he had stirred it with a long wooden stick. I took another sip.
"How is it luv?" Davy asked.
"Perfect," I replied as I winked at the handsome Englishman. I sat back and moaned in satisfaction as Peter massaged my scalp with a jasmine scented shampoo.
Some time later, I went back out to the living room in my silk pajamas and terry cloth robe. Mike was waiting for me by the recliner.
"Come have a seat and I'll massage your sore neck," Mike said.
I took a seat in the recliner and pulled the handle back as my legs raised even to my waist. Mike began to dig his fingers into my shoulders. I clinched my teeth as pain seared between my shoulder blades. The pain was being caused by a tension knot. I sighed and relaxed as the pain slowly melted away from my tender spot, as Mike kept rubbing and kneading my shoulders and neck. As if that wasn't pleasurable enough, Peter knelt down in front of the chair and began to rub my sore feet and ankles. I let out a sigh as he applied extra pressure to my heels and arches.
"Oh yeah, this is great," I exclaimed as I rolled my eyes back. Suddenly, I began to giggle and scrunched up my shoulders as Mike tickled the back of my neck with soft kisses.
"That's enough Michael. I'm a happily married woman," I said sternly. Fantasy or no fantasy, I was not about to compromise my integrity.
"Aw, you're no fun," Mike said with his hands on his hips. Just about that time, Davy came back into the living room with a spoon, a napkin, and a pint of Rocky Road.
"Here you go luv. Indulge yourself on this cold treat," Davy said as he handed me the spoon, napkin, and ice cream.
"Well, I might eat a little of it," I said, knowing how fattening ice cream can be.
"Oh this won't hurt you. Take a look at the label," Davy said. I looked and to my surprise it said: 0 calories. I blinked and looked again, but the label didn't change. I tore the lid off and began to slowly spoon the ice cream into my mouth, enjoying every bite.
After I had finished my ice cream, Micky came skipping into the living room with a huge grin on his face. In his hands was a bouquet of beautiful lilacs.
"Here you go Jan. I cut these just for you," he said as he handed me the flowers.
"Thank you," I replied. I stuck my nose into the bouquet and breathed in the heavenly scent as I smiled.
"Do you like them?" Peter asked.
"Yes I do. Now I know why the whole house smelled of lilacs. Where did you get these though?" I asked the four of them.
"Out in your front yard," Micky said as he pointed out the window.
"That's just a baby bush. It can't produce any flowers yet," I explained.
"Look for yourself," Micky said. I got up from the recliner and looked out my kitchen window. Sure enough, my little baby lilac bush had miraculously produced a bundle of lovely purple flowers.
After the shock had worn off, I headed back into the living room. That's when I noticed the clock.
"Oh no, it's five o'clock and I haven't picked my son up from day care yet. I gotta go," I said in a panic.
"Calm down, it's taken care of," Mike said as he eased me down into the chair.
"Oh, I guess I forgot to mention that your husband called while you were in the tub," Micky said.
"What did he say?" I asked.
"He said he was picking up your son and then he and the boy were going to visit his parents," Micky told me.
"Did he happen to say how long they'd be gone?" I asked.
"I believe the word he used was late," Peter said.
"No way, this is too good to be true. I have an evening to myself," I thought.
"Is there anything else you would like?" Micky asked.
"Well, would you sing to me?" I asked
"Sure," he replied. As Peter and Mike continued my massage, Micky serenaded me with "Sometime In The Morning" and "As We Go Along".
His voice began to drift away as my eyes fluttered shut and I fell into a relaxed sleep.