The girl winced and held her head.
"Oh sorry!" Peter said, then whispered, "Soup's on!"
A stampede sounded. Three, hungry boys ran from various parts of the house and grabbed for the kitchen chairs as if they were playing a game of musical chairs. The girl was momentarily forgotten.
"Eh hem!"
Mike, Micky and Davy looked up to see Peter standing over them. The blonde nodded his head toward the couch, and it was then the other three Monkees remembered their guest. At once, they all stood and Davy rushed over to the couch and offered his hand.
The girl gladly accepted since she was still unsteady on her feet. With Davy's help she made it to the table, and sat in the chair that Micky offered her.
"Thank you!" she said, smiling at the two boys.
"You should be thankful." Mike joked, "Micky doesn't give up his seat at a dinner table for anybody!"
Micky's response was to stick his tongue out at the back of Mike's head, and the rest of the group laughed.
Everyone settled in for their lunch of soup and sandwiches. Mike took the morning paper, and passed each Monkee their favorite section: Peter got the world news; Micky got the comics; Davy got entertainment, and Mike took the sports.
"Any part of the paper you want to read Miss....uh..." Mike hesitated, "Be nice if we had a name for you."
"Can I name her?" Peter pleaded.
"She's not a pet, Peter!" Micky said.
"Why don't the four of us come up with different names, and let her choose." Davy suggested.
"How about it?" Mike asked her.
"I think I'd like that." the girl smiled.
"Beth!" Peter was quick to put in.
"Um....Dixie!" Mike suggested.
"What kind of a name is Dixie?" Davy asked.
"The best kind!" Mike defended.
"I'm gonna say....Victoria!" Davy said.
"Rebbecca!" was Micky's entry.
"Well?"
All four boys looked at the girl expectantly. She looked from one pair of eyes to the other as she went over the names in her head.
"I think...." she paused, then smiled at Peter, "I like Beth!"
"Beth it is, then!" Mike announced.
Peter beamed.
"Now as I was saying," Mike said, "Any part of the paper you'd like to read, Beth?"
"I'm afraid I don't know." Beth shyly smiled. "Any part will be fine."
Mike took out the locals and gave it to her.
The room became quiet as each person settled in with their own part of the paper. Only the rustling of paper - and the occasional slurping of soup - could be heard.
Beth's eyes grew fixed to a certain picture on the front page. An older woman - perhaps in her fifties - with a noble, proud look to her face. Beth couldn't quite say it was familiar, but for some reason a horrible feeling of anger came upon her. She quickly crumbled the page, and threw it aside.
When she looked up, four curious Monkees were staring at her.