The following night the band was having dinner together. Micky had made steaks on the grill, along with baked potatoes and tossed salad. All of the guys had become proficient in the kitchen. One of the perks of having a recording contract and doing sold-out concerts was having money to stock the refrigerator and cupboards. It was a lot easier to cook when there was nutritious food, and enough of it, in the house!
The Monkees had come a long way together. They were beginning to reap financial rewards after years of hard work and little recognition. It was now possible for them to have their own places to live, but that wasn't what they wanted. The guys were content sharing their pad on the beach and making music that the people wanted to hear.
Mike, Peter, and Micky were having coffee after their meal. Davy was enjoying a cup of tea. Mike smiled appreciatively at Micky. "That was a fine dinner. Thanks for making it."
"Aw shucks. Tweren't nothin'." Micky ducked his head and plastered a goofy grin on his face. He said in a hokey Southern accent, "You varmints is as welcome as a pig in a sty."
Mike chuckled and drawled, "Y'all kin shore put up some mighty fine vittles."
Davy and Peter looked at each other and said together, "Too much `Beverly Hillbillies'!"
"Micky," Davy added, "isn't Jethro modeled after you? Always eating, chasing girls but never catching them, not too smart?"
This time it was Mike and Peter who looked at each other as the gangly Dolenz and the diminutive Jones entered into one of their frequent wrestling matches.
"Do you suppose they'll ever grow up?" Peter wondered aloud.
"I'll be in the ground before that happens," Mike deadpanned.
Micky and Davy finally called a truce. After they cleaned up the sofa cushions that were on the floor, the floor lamp that they knocked over, and the ashtray that was broken when Davy tried to kick Micky but caught the end table instead, the two happily sat down to catch their breath.
"I'm going out tonight. Anyone coming with me?" Mike asked as he walked towards the door.
"Where?" asked Micky.
"How about a movie? There's got to be something decent playing. Are you guys in?" Mike turned to Peter and Davy.
"Sounds good to me." Peter grabbed a jacket and followed Mike. "Why don't we see if Annie, Patty, Nancy, and Cherrie want to come?"
"Count me out, fellas," said Davy. "Cherrie is having a family dinner tonight, and I'm going to work on this song that's been in my head."
"You're writing a song?" Mike did a double take. "I thought you weren't into writing."
"Being in love is great inspiration!" Davy fairly radiated happiness now that he and Cherrie had said they were in love with each other.
"You ought to write more songs than Lennon and McCartney then!" Micky cheerfully grabbed Davy around the neck and messed his hair up. "I'm going to the movies. If Jones is going to try to write a song, he'll be banging on the guitar and I don't want a headache!"
Peter quickly interjected, "Davy's been working hard to better his guitar playing, Micky. I think it's groovy that he's ready to write another song. I can't wait until we record `Hard To Believe.'"
Mike agreed. "We need to support each other in our musical efforts, guys. We kid each other a lot and that's cool. We just need to make sure that the kidding doesn't go too far. Dig?"
"Davy knows I don't mean anything. You guys are too uptight. Let's go pick up the ladies!" Micky threw Davy a meaningful glance as he headed out the door.
"It's cool, fellas. Have a good time!" Davy settled down with paper, pen, and guitar to try to set his feelings for Cherrie to music.
Chapter 10
Chapter 12
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