1967
“Andi?”
“No . . . S’too early . . . ” She burrowed even deeper under her covers.
“Anndee . . . ?” the voice sang.
Whoever you are you’re dead when I wake up, her sleep-clouded mind mumbled feebly.
There was a watery splash and suddenly Andi leaped out of bed, her soaking wet hair and nightshirt sending drops flying. Her eyes fixed on Micky, who was laughing so hard he could barely keep upright. The empty bucket in his right hand clattered to the floor as he wrapped both arms around his sides.
“Oh, you should see your face!” he said in between hysterical giggles.
She approached him slowly, her face still registering shock, but no anger. “Why Micky, that was so clever. Come here and give me a hug.”
He realized her intention too late. She grabbed him and pulled him into a cold, wet embrace. When he finally managed to squirm free she swung about, hitting him full in the face with her wet hair.
“That’ll teach you, Mick. I told you not to do it,” Mike said. He stood at the threshold of the bathroom, the lower part of his face obscured by shaving foam; despite that, Andi could see the quirky grin that lay underneath.
She held out her arms. “You want one, too?”
“No, thanks,” he said, retreating back into the bathroom. “Already had one shower this mornin’.”
Andi looked over her shoulder at Micky, who was still in shock. “Well, Micky, you know what they say. Payback is a bitch.” She pulled open a drawer and tossed him a shirt. “Next time I won’t be so merciful,” she said, grinning evilly.
As soon as he left she peeled off her wet shirt and put on a dry one from the pile of dirty laundry at the foot of her bed. She stumbled over to the bathroom, squinting momentarily in the bright light.
“And how are you this fine morning, Mr. Nesmith?” she asked, slipping her arms around his waist, careful not to jostle him as he finished shaving.
“Afternoon, you mean.”
“Oh, yeah. I guess last night was late, wasn’t it? You and I should do that more often.”
He sighed and muttered something under his breath. After a moment’s puzzlement she decided to let it drop.
“So,” she said. “What should we do today?”
“Well, we need to look for a gig—” Mike stopped, reminding himself for the millionth time that technically speaking, he and his friends didn’t have to do anything except make music.
“No you don’t,” she said, resting her chin on his shoulder. “You know what? We need to get out of town.”
“Where we gonna go?” he said. Alone with Andi. Finally . . .
“I don’t know. Somewhere. Anywhere. We need a vacation.” She moved her hands up around his shoulders, gently tickling his clavicles. “Somewhere . . . warm . . . quiet . . . secluded . . . away from the cares of the world.”
“Sounds good,” he murmured. “Just the two of us.”
“The two of us?” she said, drawing back slightly. “What about the others?”
“What about ‘em? They can fend for themselves while we’re gone.”
“But that’s not fair. They’ve had just as hard a time as we these past few weeks. My . . . adjustment . . . has been rough on all of us.”
Mike grunted. “Maybe you’re right, but . . . why can’t we spend some time alone?”
“Oh, there’s plenty of time for that later,” she said teasingly. “We’re going to have fun. I promise.”
He watched her practically skip into the bedroom, humming as she rummaged in her drawers, trying to find something suitable to wear. Something small but painfully hot began to burn at the base of his spine—the irritation that he had been alternately denying and suppressing blossomed, making him clench his teeth against the bitter words that were fighting to emerge.
She promises. Everything’s okay because she promises.
~*~
“So, what do you guys think?”
“Well . . . ” Micky said, looking unusually solemn. “ROAD TRIP!”
Andi stuck a finger in her ear and wiggled it. “I don’t think you had to scream it that loud, but . . . okay, that’s one vote.”
Peter looked torn between excitement and confusion. “Where exactly are we going?”
“It doesn’t matter. We are going to pack up and leave this house for a while and see if we can’t outrun some of our troubles.”
Peter looked troubled by that, but after a moment’s hesitation he nodded. “Sure. Sounds like fun.”
Davy rubbed his hands together. “This is going to be fantastic! I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve been cooped up in ‘ere a little too long. I’m ready for a change of scenery.”
“Okay, that’s four.” Andi looked at Mike, who was leaning against the stairs, an inscrutable expression on his dark features. “What do you say, Papa Nez?”
Mike shrugged. “I’m outnumbered here.”
Andi gave him a mock-stern look. “May I take that as a yes?”
“If you want to.”
“Fine. I will. It’s settled. All right, everyone to their rooms—last one down here with their bags packed is a rotten egg.”
Micky mimed holding his nose as he sprinted for the stairs. Davy and Peter pushed and jostled each other in their mad dash to the room they shared. As the door slammed behind them, Andi went over to Mike.
“Cheer up, Mike. This is going to be fun. Just you, me . . . and the kids.” She nudged him playfully and he gave her a reserved smile. Taking him by the hand, she led him up the stairs to their room, where Micky was standing, his back to them. He was, from the looks of it, pretending his suitcase was basketball hoop; he balled up each piece of clothing and was ‘shooting’ them in, mimicking the shouts of the crowd with each successful ‘basket.’
“You sure we have to bring him along?” Mike whispered in her ear.
“Yeah. Can’t disappoint the little tyke, can we?” she replied, biting her lip to keep in the laughter.
Micky looked up, genuine puzzlement on his face. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothin’, Mick,” Mike replied, digging his own suitcase out from under his bed. “I think you need a little more extension in your shootin’ arm, though.”
Andi laughed and flopped back on her bed, rolling herself tightly up in her quilt. I’m about to go on my first vacation with my new family. What could be better?
~*~
Twenty minutes later Micky sat triumphantly on top of his suitcase in the living room, his arms crossed over his chest. “You finished yet, Pete?” he crowed as Peter emerged from his room.
“Almost. You don’t have to look so smug about it, Micky,” Peter said as he climbed the stairs to the room the three shared. Mike was exiting the room as Peter mounted the balcony; as they passed Peter could have sworn that Mike was giving him a distinctly suspicious look.
Andi was carefully folding her clothes and tucking them inside a long canvas duffel bag. She had changed into a pair of light blue denim shorts and a pair of hiking boots. She wore one of Mike’s button-down shirts over her plain white T-shirt.
Peter cleared his throat and she glanced at him. “Oh, hi, Peter. What’s up?”
“Hey Andi,” Peter said. “Do you think that maybe we’re spending a little too much time together?”
She looked at him, one eyebrow raised in puzzlement. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “Well, it’s . . . just a feeling I have. Mike’s been kind of . . . tense lately. And sometimes when we’re talking and he comes in the room it’s almost like he’s glaring at me.”
Andi paused. “I haven’t noticed it. This morning he seemed just fine.” She neglected to mention Mike’s unintelligible comment. “Maybe he’s just feeling the blahs like I am. I think once we get away things will be different.” She smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Peter. It’s all in your mind.”
“Okay,” he said, not convinced in the slightest. As he watched her pack he pursed his lips thoughtfully. It had been a little more than a month earlier that Andi had returned to the pad. The attack that had nearly taken her life had left her unable to deal with that life, and after creating unbearable tension between her friends, she had fled. Peter could still remember how he felt when he woke up in the morning and found the note explaining her departure—it was as if the world had dropped out from under him.
Since her return their close, confidante relationship had grown even tighter, and the closer they got, the more uncomfortable his friendship with Mike became. He loved Andi dearly—but as a sister, not a girlfriend.
But did she feel the same way?
“Andi?” he said, drawing up every bit of courage. As those dark eyes fastened upon him once more he swallowed. “Do you love me?”
“Of course,” she replied, puzzled.
“No, I mean . . . do you . . . love me? Like you love Mike.”
There was only a slight hesitation before she replied. “No. My love for you is very different. Maybe if Mike weren’t in the picture . . . ”
It was at this last ill-timed comment that Mike walked back into the room. The shock and anger that flitted across his face froze Peter’s heart in his chest, and even Andi paled.
“Talkin’ about me behind my back?” he snapped.
“No, Mike,” Andi said quickly. “I was pointing out to Peter that perhaps if you had not been present when I met you guys, I might have been inclined to pursue a relationship with him.”
“Oh,” he said. Most of the suspicion abandoned his features, but some still lingered in the corners of his quietly smoldering eyes. “Well, listen, Davy and I are goin’ to gas up the car. We’ll be back in a little bit.”
“Okay,” Andi replied. “Don’t get lost.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” he said, closing the door firmly behind him. As soon as the sound of his footsteps had receded, she sank down onto her bed.
“Oh, that was not good,” she muttered. “Maybe you have a point there, Peter. So . . . while we’re on this trip I’m going to spend a little more time with Mike—no, scratch that. I’m going to spend a LOT more time with him.”
“Good idea,” Peter said as his heart began to beat once more. “I don’t want him to think I’m coming between you.”
“He doesn’t think that, Peter. I know he doesn’t.”
~*~
“He’s comin’ between us, Davy. I thought I was just imaginin’ things, but that just about proved it.”
Davy grabbed the dashboard as Mike wrenched the Monkeemobile around a corner. “Mike, Peter’d never do something like that. Andi’s hung up on you, not him. Even I can see that.” Davy’s self-depricating attempt to lighten the situation failed miserably as the furrows on Mike’s brow grew even deeper.
“I know what I heard, man. And I know what I’ve seen. Every day the two of ’em get closer, and they’re pushin’ me out.”
“Have you ever seen them kiss?” Davy said. Mike wrenched the car into the station and slammed on the brakes, nearly sending Davy into the windshield.
“Have you?” he demanded.
“No!” Davy said quickly. “That’s my point! They don’t kiss, when he hugs her he keeps his hands around her shoulders, when they sit together they might sit close but they don’t touch each other. Look, maybe I don’t know Andi as well as you do, but I know Peter. He’d sooner die than take her away from you.”
Mike stared at the steering column. He wanted to believe Davy; he really did. But every time he closed his eyes he could see Andi and Peter sitting next to each other, her lips moving as she shared secrets that should have been his.
Davy reached out and touched Mike gently on the shoulder. “Look, Mike. Let’s just go on this trip, and maybe things’ll be better when we come back.”
On to Chapter Two
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