Madison found Micky the next morning in the kitchen making breakfast. "Micky Dolenz, what do you think you are doing?" She asked sternly walking in and taking the spatula out of his hand.
"Making breakfast." He answered innocently stepping out of her way.
"You should have woken me up." She took the pan he was frying eggs in off of the stove.
"You've had a long week and I thought you could use some extra sleep." He sipped a cup of coffee. "Besides, I'm perfectly capable of making my own breakfast."
"You're supposed to be resting." She barked. "And the days of you having eggs for breakfast are over. I got you some bran cereal." She dumped the eggs into the garbage can. "The doctor said you have to change your eating habits and that's exactly what you're going to do."
"I hate bran cereal." Micky mumbled to himself.
"What?" Madison shot around.
"Nothing, doll." He gave her one of his winning smiles and she rolled her eyes.
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"Doll, I can't stand to be in this bed one more minute." Micky complained, but his complaint was falling on deaf ears as Madison fluffed his pillow. "Are you even listening to me?"
"Of course I am, Mick." She straightened out the blanket. "But you had a heart attack less than 2 weeks ago and you need to rest."
"That's all I've been doing. I'm not an invalid." He grabbed her hand. "I miss you. Why don't you get in here with me and we'll rest together." He winked.
"Because you have no intention of resting." She pulled her hand away.
"So?"
"So, I have a million things to do and you need to rest." She replied and started walking towards the door.
"What's wrong with you, doll?" Micky asked frustrated.
"Nothing, now get some sleep." She answered coldly and left the room.
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Micky let out his frustrations on the drums. He was back in Mike's basement practicing with the band. At first, the others were weary that he should be there because it had only been a little over a month since the heart attack, but he assured them he was fine. And physically he was. Mentally and emotionally was a completely different story. The fact that he had to sneak out of his own house to come to practice told most of it. He was feeling like a prisoner in his own home and Madison was the warden. She wouldn't let him do anything except exercise the way the doctor said and rest. She fixed healthy meals for him to eat and fluffed his pillow more times that he could count. They hadn't made love since before the heart attack. In fact, she hadn't kissed him on the lips since then either. He wasn't sure what to do but he did know that banging on the drums and singing with his friends made him feel better.
He was so involved with the music that he didn't see her storm in and roughly unplug Mike's guitar. "What the hell do you thing you're doing?" She yelled.
Micky put the drumsticks down gently. "Practicing. We're going on tour in two months, remember?"
"You're going on...have you completely lost your mind?" She walked in front of the drums. "You had a heart attack."
"I know that…you won't let me forget. You're right, I had a heart attack and I lived through it. I'm alive and I plan to live for a long time. But I'm not going to live like an invalid." He could see the tears building in his wife's eyes but he had to speak his mind. "You've done nothing but police me since I got home from the hospital. I want my life back." He gestured to the others. "This band is part of me and I'm not ready to give it up."
"Well, then don't let me stand in your way." Her eyes went from weepy to cold. "You just go ahead and play, go on tour, do whatever you want. Excuse the hell out of me for EVER caring." She turned on her heel.
Micky was quiet for a moment. "Doll, wait!" He called after her but it was too late, she was already gone.
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