Mike watched her run with a mixture of sadness and anger. What had he done? Maybe he had just moved too quick, but something told him there was more to it than that. Andi seemed to want to be with him as much as he with her, but every time they got close, a brick wall sprang up between them.
He hadn’t figured on falling for her. Once the shock of being kidnapped and then dumped alongside a dirt road had worn off, all that had been on his mind was getting home. But when Andi had suggested they stay with her, there was something in those coal black eyes that had held him in place. He couldn’t stop staring at her, and, silly as it might sound, wanting to run his fingers through her long velvet hair.
But why did she keep pushing him away?
With a sigh he climbed down from the rock and traced his steps back to where Shesha was casually grazing. The horse looked up at him as he approached, almost as if to ask “Where’s Andi?”
“I wish you could talk,” Mike said. “Maybe you could tell me what’s wrong with her.”
Shesha nodded his head sagely--if horses could be sages--and turned in the direction of Andi’s home.
~ ~ ~
Andi plunged on through the trees, heedless of the branches tearing at her clothes. She wanted to keep running forever, but eventually she found herself back on her private beach. The light that emanated from her house glowed invitingly, but Andi was skittish about returning. What if Mike was there? Would he be angry? How could she ever face him again?
“Oh, I knew I should have left them where I found them,” she growled to herself. She looked at the beach, where the five of them had concluded their furious game of tag with an epic wrestling match, and realized she didn’t mean it. They were her friends, and their coming was the best thing that had ever happened to her.
“Then why do I feel so wretched?” she muttered, slowly scaling the steps that led to her living room. The door was open, and she could hear soft, gentle singing accompanying the soothing sound of a guitar. The voice was too low to be Micky’s and too rich to be Mike’s or Davy’s. She peered inside and saw Peter sitting in one of her chairs, coaxing a beautiful melody from her guitar. The light from her oil lamps made his blonde hair glow in a soft halo. When he spotted her, however, he stopped.
“No, please continue,” she said, easing down next to him. “It sounds wonderful.”
Peter blushed and continued playing, though the sound was slightly more strained this time. When he finished Andi smiled, the knots in her shoulders loosening themselves.
“Thank you. That was lovely.” She stood up and stretched. “Would you like a cup of tea?”
Peter nodded shyly, setting her guitar down with infinite care and following her over to the table. She set a pot of water on the stove and retrieved her teabags from a small cabinet under the counter.
“Well, Peter, you have my compliments. You sing beautifully.” She smiled at Peter, who returned it with a wide grin of his own. She hadn’t really noticed him before--how could I have possibly missed that smile? He hadn’t said much, and kept trying to avert his gaze from her.
“You don’t have to be nervous around me, you know,” she said over her shoulder, unable to keep a smile off her face. “I don’t bite. Well, on second thought, I think I do.”
He looked momentarily alarmed, then smiled. “Oh, you’re kidding.”
“Of course. Did you think I wasn’t?” she said, placing a cup of tea in front of him and sitting.
“No . . . I just . . . sometimes I have a hard time telling when people are kidding, that’s all.”
“Yeah, my mum used to have that same prob--” She stopped, her face turning deathly pale.
Did you just say what I thought you said?
“Andi?” Peter said, rising from his chair. “Are you all right?” He walked around the table and laid a supporting hand on her trembling shoulder.
“I will be in a minute,” she muttered through clenched teeth. “I just . . . hmmm,” she growled inarticulately.
“Is it something bad?” he asked with such innocence that Andi almost flinched. “You know, it might help if you talk about it.”
Andi looked forlornly at Peter as he sat on the bench next to her. For the first time since he had met her the brick wall fell and he saw her for what she really was: a frightened, lonely child.
“I don’t know if I can,” she said. “I tried . . . I mean, I was going to tell Mike, but . . . “ She gripped the edge of the table. “You don’t understand, Peter. I’ve never discussed this with anyone.”
There’s never been anyone here to discuss it with.
“Do you trust me?” he asked quietly.
Her answer did not come immediately, but when it did, it was certain.
“Yes.”
“Then you can tell me.”
“Okayfine,” she said, taking in a giant breath. “My parents died when I was fourteen.” She took a deep breath as the room seemed to shift slightly under her.
“I have never talked to anyone about this. They were flying back from a trip to Africa and crashed into the Mediterranean. I . . . never even had a chance to say goodbye. I woke up one day and they were . . . gone.” Her hands clenched into tight fists. “They were the only friends I had, and . . . they were my life. That’s why I’m here, and that is why I cannot allow myself to get any closer to you . . . any of you. I can’t risk losing anyone I love ever again.” She stared at the wall with a mixture of resignation and numbness.
Peter was silent as she finished. What on earth could he possibly say to her? There was a soft knock on the doorframe and his head snapped around.
Mike leaned against the doorjamb, an unusually somber look on his face. He connected eyes with Peter, who immediately understood: Mike had heard every word.
“Andi . . . “ Peter said gently, touching her shoulder. She looked at Mike, her dark eyes filling with tears.
“Now you know,” she said, her voice vaguely husky.
Mike stepped into the room, his eyes still directed at the floor. “Hey, Pete, could you give us a minute alone?”
“Sure. I’m heading off to bed if you need me.” Peter stood immediately and headed for the door, but Andi’s voice brought him up short.
“Thanks, Peter. I don’t know about it now . . . but I’m pretty sure I needed that.”
“You’re welcome,” he said with a much more reserved smile. Then he was gone.
Mike grabbed a chair and turned it backwards, straddling it. He crossed his arms over the back and rested his chin on them.
“So that’s what you couldn’t tell me, huh?” he said, only the barest trace of sarcasm in his voice.
“Yep, that’s it. It’s not that I don’t want to love you, Mike. It’s just that . . . I can’t. If I were to lose you . . . I don’t think I could handle it.”
He nodded understandingly, though she could see the anger building in his eyes. “So what you’re tellin’ me is that you don’t want to be hurt again, so you figure that shuttin’ everyone out’ll make that happen.”
Andi raised her eyebrows. “Well . . . I never thought about it like that, but, yeah, I suppose that is correct.”
“That’s really selfish,” he said quietly, but even so, Andi reacted like she’d been slapped.
“What? How can you sit there and tell me about selfish? How can you possibly understand what I’ve been through?”
“You think you’re the only person who’s ever suffered? Did you ever stop to think that you’re hurting me?”
Andi--who had stood up, ready for an argument--lost her balance and fell backwards over the bench. She pushed herself up on her elbows and stared at him in open-mouthed shock.
“Huh?” was her inarticulate reply.
Mike regretted saying those words as soon as they were out of his mouth. But, since they had been said and were sitting out there in the open, he figured he might as well continue.
“You said you can’t love me because you don’t want to lose me. Didja ever consider that maybe . . . I want to love you?”
She covered her mouth with her hand. Hadn’t she thought of that?
No, you didn’t. You were too busy worrying about your own feelings.
“I . . . I . . . “ she stammered. Her mind swam with several hundred disjointed thoughts. The tears that shimmered in her eyes finally emerged, slipping silently down her cheeks.
Mike rose from his chair and helped her up. He lifted her chin slightly, forcing her to look into his eyes.
“I’m not goin’ anywhere. I won’t leave you.”
She made a sound that was somewhere in between a laugh and a sob, and put her arms around him, holding him tight as if he were going to disappear.
“I know it was hard for you to say that,” she said.
“You’ll never know,” he whispered.
~ ~ ~
As Peter entered their room, he could see Micky and Davy huddled by the window. They were watching Mike and Andi, who could still be seen through the large open window of the main room.
“You know, those two are in love,” Davy said conspiratorially.
“Yeah, it’s beautiful!” Micky giggled, moving aside to include Peter in the fold. “I was beginning to think he’d never find a girl.”
“I wonder why she chose him?” Peter asked quietly, drawing stares from the other two.
“Have you looked at the two of them, Pete?” Micky said incredulously. “They’re like twins!”
Peter watched as Andi nudged Mike playfully, her laughter carrying into the still night air. Micky was right. They were both tall, dark, thin, and preternaturally quiet, yet capable of unaccountable goofiness, and, as far as Peter could tell, bursts of sharp anger as well.
“Yeah, I guess so,” he sighed.
“Petah, man, what’s wrong? Don’t you like her?”
Peter shrugged. He didn’t have an answer for that one.
“Anyway, man. Mike can take care of himself.”
~ ~ ~
When Peter awoke early the next morning, he found Mike’s bed empty.
“Mike?” he said with a small voice, irrational apprehension running through him.
He shuddered. It’s not like Mike to just disappear like this.
He looked over at Davy and Micky, still sleeping the sleep of the dead, and decided against waking them just yet.
He dressed quickly and made his way down the small boardwalk to the main room. As he entered he stopped, his light brown eyes going wide.
“Oh, my . . . ”
~ ~ ~
“Davy! Micky! Come on, guys, get up!” Peter hissed, shaking them insistently.
“Hey, man! Would you quit it?” Micky groaned, his almond eyes squinched shut against the bright light of morning.
“No, you guys gotta come with me,” Peter said. Though his voice was urgent, his eyes were twinkling with undisguised amusement.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Davy asked, suddenly very much awake.
“It’s Mike,” Peter said ominously. That was enough to make Micky and Davy literally leap out of bed. A few seconds later the three of them were clustered breathlessly around the door to the main room.
Peter tiptoed in, motioning for the others to follow. He pointed to the couch, and Micky clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.
Mike was fast asleep, his lanky form stretched out on Andi’s battered sofa. Andi was nestled beside him, her head tucked under his chin, her arms wrapped around him, a look of peaceful contentment gracing her delicate features. She smiled beatifically, though her eyes were still closed. “You guys had better get out of here before I wake up,” she mumbled sleepily.
Peter hustled Micky and Davy out the door before either one could disturb them. He returned to the couch, staring down at the sleeping couple with a huge, dimpled grin. They are so cute, he thought. He picked up their discarded blanket from the floor and tucked it around them.
“Thanks, shotgun,” Mike mumbled, pulling Andi a little closer.
~ ~ ~
Andi returned to consciousness slowly, savoring the warmth of Mike’s body next to her. This I could get used to, she thought, stretching luxuriously.
As she focused on his features, she pondered the events of the last few days. The fact that her resolve had crumbled did not trouble her in the slightest. In fact, she was rather glad. The light, airy euphoria she had discovered was not something she was ready to give up.
Well, if it’s a matter of keeping my word or waking up to this, I think I’ll stay with this.
His eyes fluttered open, and he smiled at her. “Mornin’, beautiful,” he whispered. He ran his fingers gently down her face, brushing back her hair.
“Same to you, Mr. Nesmith,” she said. There was no hesitation or reservation in either her eyes or smile. “You know, we should get up before the guys see us. I had a weird dream about that last night.” She rolled off the couch and landed on the floor with a loud thump. Mike leaned back and laughed.
“Oh, don’t laugh,” Andi said, pushing herself up on her elbows. That only made Mike laugh harder.
“Well, I’m happy that I amuse you,” she said with feigned annoyance. “I’m going to make breakfast, so when you’re done hoo-ing and ha-ing you’re welcome to join me.” As she passed by she stroked the back of his hand with a gentle caress.
“So does this mean that you’re done playing around?” he asked as she rummaged around in her cupboards.
“Yes. I am sorry about that. My social skills are not what they used to be, and . . . well, you know the other reason why.”
“Morning, lovebirds!” Micky crowed, bounding through the door with his usual exuberance. Peter and Davy appeared behind him, grinning widely.
“Did you two ‘ave fun last night?” Davy teased.
“Of course they did,” Micky replied. “Just look at the goofy grin on her face.” He pointed at Andi, whose face was indeed split by a large, unabashed grin.
“Okay, boys. That’s enough. There’s plenty of time for teasing later.” She set out bowls and cups, and placed her last loaf of bread on the table.
“I’m almost out,” she said. “I’ll have to go into town today and do some shopping, otherwise we’ll be eating tree bark.”
“Hey, that might not be too bad,” Micky said. Mike slapped him playfully on the head.
“Well, I’m glad you feel that way,” Andi said dryly. “I, however, prefer to eat real food.”
After breakfast the Monkees followed Andi outside, waiting while she retrieved Shesha from the beach.
“You know, we could come with you,” Peter said.
“Sure,” she said, an evil gleam in her eyes. “It’s a twenty mile hike over some rough terrain. I hope your shoes are sturdy.”
“Um, on second thought, no,” Micky said, backing away. “Have fun.”
“Are you sure you want to go alone? I could come with you,” Mike said.
“No,” Andi replied. “I don’t really want to go alone, but it’s too long a ride, and Shesha can’t carry the both of us that far.” She reached down and stroked his face. “Stay here and relax. Spend some time with your friends. I’ll be back this evening.”
With a final smile and a wave of her hand, she cantered down the beach and headed up the hill. At the top she weaved her way expertly through the trees and emerged onto the road.
Perhaps if her thoughts had not been centered on Mike she would have seen the five pairs of eyes staring out from behind the foliage, heard the impatient pawing of their horses’ hooves . . .
. . . but she didn’t.
On to Part Four
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