Reunion (The Monkees Family Vol. 3)

Chapter 59

Wendy was asleep in her bunk when she heard Dave come stumbling into the trailer.  He was singing Hands Off . . . She's Mine in a drunken singsong whine, inserting the word NOT and giggling.  As his foot hit some solid piece of furniture and made a loud bang, he started shushing himself and snickering.  He plopped down on his cot with a solid thunk that would have woken the dead, but Wendy was already awake, having witnessed the entire spectacle of Dave's entry.  Now she lifted her head and inquired "Where did you go, Dave?  Did you have a good time?  I assume your mission of looking after me or being my apprentice is no longer operational?"

She left the lilt of a question mark in her statement to give him the option to explain or apologize or back down from his assholery.  In truth, she was pissed off by his petulance or at the very least by his flakiness.  She didn't like fair weather friends, nor did she appreciate guys who were pussies and didn't fight for what they wanted.  Either way, he had abandoned her when the going got rough and she had little respect for his lack of follow-through or fidelity. 

He peered at her through the darkness, trying to get a read on her mood.  What did she expect him to say?  She had made her choice.  She picked the bloke who was a superstar and had the world at his feet.  The one who had the privilege of kissing her hand and her ass and sucking up to her and flattering her.  She had shown herself to be shallow and easily gulled by a show pony with a braided mane and fancy saddle.  How could he compete with that?

"Well, Mrs. Nesmith, I figured I would just get out of your way and leave you to your fun.  I know you didn't really want a chaperone and you were getting awrfully friendly with Stewie-boy, so I thought it best to leave you to it.  I found the Ramones and we 'ung out and talked about the punk scene 'ere in America versus the U.K.  Those are some fascinating chaps.  Real intellectuals if you want to know the truth.  I was quite intimidated until we started talking politics and then it was all leveled up.  They loathe Ronald Reagan as much as I despise Maggie Thatcher."  He paused and then continued, "Actually, I'm surprised to find you 'ere.  I figured you'd be in someone else's bed, if you know wot I mean."

Wendy had heard enough.  She sat bolt upright in bed and smacked her blanket.  "Alright, Dave, that's IT!  You need to seriously simmer down and get over your snit!  First of all, even if I had a thing for Stewart, which I don't, I sure as hell wouldn't be in his bed right now!  I am NOT that kind of woman.  I am a professional career woman with standards and morals, a single mother to a young child, and I am not some damn groupie!  How you could even THINK I'd be anywhere but my own bed is beyond me.  It's insulting to me and frankly I'm disappointed in you.  I'm disappointed that you have that low an opinion of me, and I'm also disappointed that you think I'm not already invested in the good vibes that you and I have been building since the first day we met."

The fairground lights were shining through the trailer windows, making it easy for Dave and Wendy to see each other's facial expressions and body language.  Wendy had her arms crossed and a stiff spine.  Dave was sitting on his bed, slumped over with his elbows on his knees and hands hanging limply down, with his head facing in the same direction.  Wendy sensed that he was stuck in a mode of powerlessness and didn't feel able to say what was really on his mind, nor to meet her on her own ground.  She decided that if she did want something to go forward in their relationship, she had to remove the shackles that bound him; that is, the inequities of their professional relationship.

She sighed and admitted "Dave, I've been attracted to since the first moment I met you.  But I had to be sensible.  I was in London to do a job and you were meeting me to get a job.  We both had roles to play and ambitions to fulfill.  Now the ground has shifted slightly, and we're in a different dynamic.  We've both made good on the goals we set for ourselves, and we've had the opportunity to get to know each other as people and professionals in a slow, deliberate fashion.  I think that's an advantage that in the long run could serve us both well, especially considering the trauma I've been healing from since my miscarriage and divorce.  I wasn't ready for you when I met you.  Now I'm waking up again and thinking maybe I am ready, or at least ready to try."