Reunion (The Monkees Family Vol. 3)

Chapter 50

Davy didn't spend long in rehab.  He insisted on being out in time for Robert and Lynda's wedding.  They had planned a Thanksgiving wedding, a relatively quiet time for Lynda's employer.  Davy did a quick thirty-day stint, no fuss, no muss, and basically all he did was dry out.  Lynda had hoped he would follow up with psychological counseling, but he scoffed at her suggestion and waved it off. 

"Davy, I'm worried about you.  Just because you're dry, doesn't mean you're sober," she insisted.  Davy and she were having lunch at a café near the clothing boutique where she worked.  She was worried about the kerfuffle his presence at her wedding might cause and was trying to smooth the path for him.  Davy seemed to be completely oblivious to the burden he was placing on his friend.

"Come on, Lynda, me counselor has cleared me for takeoff.  I've got me walking papers.  That's all I need.  I just needed a good rest and a chahnce to get me 'ead straight."

Lynda gave him a skeptical look but knew it was a losing battle.  She switched the topic.  "So, what are your plans now that you're out?"

Davy shrugged his shoulders.  "Dunno.  I'm not really sure.  Might stay over in England for a while with me sisters, maybe see if there's any work to be had over there.  Maybe the West End has a play that's in need of a short, charming entertainer."

"That sounds like a good idea, Davy.  You were really at home on the stage, and you're at home in England.  Would you consider reaching out to Micky and Gabby?"

Davy looked like he had just eaten something rotten.  "Don't be daft!  I don't half think so!"

"Why not?  You're going to have to face up to them someday.  Why not just do it and get it over with and get on with your friendship?  They could be of support to you."

"Hohoho, that's rich.  As if that were in the cahrds.  Come on, Lynda, pull the other one."

"Davy, they went all the way to Las Vegas to try to help you.  Or have you forgotten that?  Were you too drunk to remember?"  She was truly pissed off now.

Davy bowed his head with some legitimate shame and shrugged his shoulders.  "Well, that's different.  They'd pull me 'ead out of a puddle to save me from drowning, but they don't really care about me as a friend.  They just want to make sure I'm alive so they can get their pound of flesh."

"Davy, you are really are making a big mistake by not going to therapy, and an even bigger mistake in skipping out on Alcoholics Anonymous.  You seriously have your brain scrambled about the truth of what's what, and you are living an amoral life that is going to bring you nothing but misery.  I think you're worse off now than when I first met you.  I can't figure out how to reach you and I won't give up on you, but I'm not going to try to mend your relationships with the family.  That's up to you.  But I will warn you – you had better behave yourself at my wedding.  Don't go causing a scene or being a jerk.  I'll never forgive you if you ruin my big day."

Davy reached across the table and took Lynda's hands in his.  He cooed at her with his silky voice "Hey now, Lynda, don't worry.  I'll be on me best behavior.  Scout's honor."

"Davy, you weren't a scout," she responded skeptically.

"Got me there," he admitted and giggled.  "I was too poor for twaddle like that."

She sighed and said "I'll give you an invitation that includes a date, but mind you don't bring a tabloid reporter with you."  She mock frowned at him and he managed to look fairly jovial at her jest. 

Lynda and Robert's wedding was held in Lynda's hometown of Brighton, England.  They were married in the church she attended when she was growing up and where her parents still were parishioners.  It was a very short ceremony since, like many typical Church of England houses of worship, there were neither heating nor bathroom facilities.  After the "I do's" were said, the reception moved on to a local stately home owned by the National Trust and rented out for functions.