Andi entered the Pad slowly, keeping her head ducked between her shoulders almost as if she expected to be physically attacked. Davy was sitting at the kitchen table, leafing through an old magazine. Micky was sitting in one of the armchairs, idly twirling a drumstick in his agile fingers. Peter was seated on the chaise, facing the door. He looked at Andi and smiled, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Mike touched her elbow gently. “Go on, And.”
Peter watched her legs tremble as she slowly entered the house, her eyes darting around fearfully as if she were in an unfamiliar place instead of the place that had been her home for almost a year. She stopped in front of Peter, her lips quivering as she tried to speak.
“What is it?” he asked softly.
Andi collapsed onto her knees and buried her face in Peter’s lap, sobbing pitieously. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Peter, I’m so sorry,” she moaned.
Peter touched her shoulders gently, noticing how violently they shook—and how bony they were. He looked up at Mike. “Mike, she—”
“I know,” Mike said quietly. “She hasn’t been eatin’ lately.”
Peter looked back down at Andi. Why couldn’t he be mad? He could still remember the hurt—could still feel it—and yet as he gently untangled her long black hair he just couldn’t bring himself to feel the anger. He wasn’t entirely sure it was still there.
After several long minutes she raised her head, her eyes swollen and red-rimmed. “I’m so sorry, Peter. I hurt you guys and I feel so terrible that I . . . ” She shook her head. “There aren’t words to describe how awful I feel and how much I hate myself for what I did . . . if I could take it back I would . . . in a second. I never wanted to hurt you, but . . . I was afraid—that you guys are going to be successful—because you are—and then you won’t need me anymore. And I was wrong and I’m sorry . . . ” The words brought a fresh wave of tears and she buried her face in her hands.
Mike cleared his throat. “Well, guys?”
Micky stood up, leaving his drumsticks on the chair. “What do you say, Mike?”
Mike shrugged. “Andi an’ me made our peace already. I told her it was a dumb thing to do and she didn’t argue.”
“Look, Mike, I’m not mad, really,” Davy said as he sat down next to Peter. “But how do we know she won’t do this again?”
Mike opened his mouth to reply, but Andi interrupted. “Because from now on all the business of The Monkees is going to be handled by someone other than me; I am completely absolving myself of any involvement in the management of this group. I’ll still play with you guys if you want me to, but that’s it.” Some of the familiar confidence had returned to her voice. “I am not going to touch another demo tape or arrange another session or gig until such a time as you feel you can trust me—if such a time ever comes. And if it doesn’t . . . ” She shrugged. “It’s a tiny price to pay to repair what I’ve done.”
“So you’re doing it to avoid temptation?” Micky asked, sitting down on Peter’s other side.
“No. After this if I even think of doing . . . anything . . . then I’m a bigger idiot than I am now.” She braced her arm on the chaise and slowly pushed herself to her feet, cringing slightly at the pain that shot through her bruised knees. “I’m doing it because I don’t want any of you to have to suffer through any suspicion, wondering if ‘she’s doing it again’.”
Micky smiled and scratched the back of his neck. “Oh, hell.” He came forward and put his arms around her gently. “You’re being a hell of a lot harder on yourself than I could ever be. I forgive you, girl.”
Davy waited until Micky broke the embrace and stepped forward to offer one of his own. “Yeah, me too, luv. We all mistakes, I guess.” As he stepped back he leveled a stern finger at her. “Just don’t do it again.”
“I won’t,” she promised. “Ever.”
That only left Peter. Of all her friends Andi needed Peter to forgive her most of all.
Peter stood up and placed his arms around her shoulders without hesitation. “We’ve known each other a while, and I couldn’t—and still can’t—believe that you did this on purpose. But if you were afraid, Andi, you should have told us. This was the wrong thing to do.”
He drew back slightly so he could look her in the eye, almost as if he expected her to deny it. When she didn’t he continued.
“But you’ve apologized and promised not to do it again, and . . . I wouldn’t be much of a brother if I didn’t give you a second chance, now would I?” He gave her a dimpled grin as she smiled with relief, tears once again spilling down her cheeks.
“On one condition,” he said sternly. “From now on you talk to me first, okay?” At an insistent ahem he amended, “Or Mike.”
“Thanks, shotgun,” Mike said wryly. “Now let’s eat, man, I’m starving. Get rid of some of the heaviness in this house.”
As if on cue, Andi’s and Mike’s stomachs growled in unison, sending tension-releasing peals of laughter swirling around the house.
—————————————————
“You will again have compassion on us; you will tread our sins underfoot and hurl all our iniquities into the depths of the sea.”—Micah 7:19
Back to Chapter Five
Back to Infinite Rider main page
Back to Mich's Universe
