Part One
Laurie of Little Women once asked his tutor “What do those girls do over there all day?” His tutor wisely replied that “over the mysteries of female life there is drawn a veil. One that is best left undisturbed.”
Good advice there, baby. Something that the Monkees could’ve used when three young women moved in next door to their beach house on Beechwood Drive. Unfortunately for Mike, Davy, Micky and Peter, none of them had ever picked up Louisa May Alcott’s classic read…not many guys do of their own free will.
When the three girls moved in, Davy was the first to notice.
“Hey guys! Chicks!” He had called the others down while looking out the window as their new neighbors were chatting with the landlord Mr. Babbitt.
Micky scrambled over to the window. “What kinda chicks-yellow fuzzy ones?” Davy scrunched his eyebrows together.
“Oh Micky.” He turned his attention back to the girls, mentally deciding which one was cutest. Hmmm…the middle one is pretty, blonde hair is always nice…the tall brunette looks good, but maybe she’s just too tall…the little brunette is cute-in the adorable sense…
“Ooh, I like the tall chick. Groovy hair.” Micky referred to June Stuart, the eldest of the girls.
June was twenty-one, with long dark brown hair she often left in a simple braid. “Too thick to do much else with it,” She always answered with a shrug when asked about her plain hairstyle. June was very practical and serious, but extremely shy at the same time. She was at all times helping others, and people always liked her sweet and gentle ways. Her glasses often gave people the sense she was studious, which wasn’t really true. She was smart and liked to read, but she preferred her pottery to writing or doing anything school-related. She made beautiful pottery too, and received lots of money off of selling it, so she never saw any reason to go to college.
“I’m liking the blondie.” Davy pointed to Anne Tyler.
Anne was the youngest of the three at age eighteen. She was tall (though not as tall as June) and skinny, with pale skin to go with her light hair, which was cut just below her shoulders. Anne was very intelligent and sensible but did live in a dream world a lot of the time. She was very sarcastic with a sharp wit and quick tongue-which she could use to lash out at people as much as to prove her points. She was teased as a child, because she was so sensitive and took easily to crying. The cruelty of her peers died off at the beginning of high school, but the damage was done, and she became hard and at times unfeeling to those around her. She had moved with her two best friends to go to Higgins University nearby the beach cottage, and also to be away from her divorced and always-feuding parents and younger sisters. This was freedom to her, living independently. She hoped that it would be easier to write without her pesky sisters anyway.
Mike wondered into the room and noticed Davy and Micky watching something out the window. He ambled over and squinted at the sun in his eyes.
“New neighbors, huh?” He asked Micky, as Davy was still so enraptured with Anne that he hadn’t even noticed Mike was there.
“Uh huh. And Davy’s in love.”
“No I’m not! Well, I haven’t decided which one I’m in love yet, anyway.” Davy wrenched his gaze just long enough to grin at Mike and Micky and then went back to his gazing.
Mike watched at the tallest girl, who was trying patiently to listen to the still-talking landlord as she sneaked warning glares at the smallest girl, who was rolling her eyes and yawning at Babbitt. The blonde chick finally smacked the short girl’s arm when Babbitt led the tall brunette inside the apartment, still yapping away. Blondie looked as if she were scolding the other brunette, and the scoldee was rolling her eyes and looking around, her eyes finally resting on the boys spying on them through the window. She smiled and waved while the other girl stared in shock. She grabbed the other girl’s arm and dragged her inside.
Mike chuckled. “That little girl sure is a spitfire.” He drawled, strolling back to the kitchen.
The “spitfire” was Gwen Lewis, age nineteen. She had short auburn hair-chin-length-and at five feet two inches she was always mistaken for being younger than her best friend Anne, which pleased Anne to no end but drove Gwen crazy, (well, she already was crazy, so that could be argued). Perpetually cheerful and silly, playing pranks was one of her favorite pastimes, as well as accepting every dare shot her way. What she really loved to do was sing, and she had a beautiful alto voice. She could play lead guitar okay, but she couldn’t write songs if her life depended on it-so Anne wrote them for her. Sometimes they referred to each other as “Tyler &Lewis,” a spoof on Simon & Garfunkel. Gwen moved out with June and Anne to enjoy a new way of life and to meet new people. “Life is a banquet and most poor sons-of-bitches are starving to death.” She heard that once from a play she was in-“Mame”- and liked it so much that she claimed it as her own personal motto.
Now that the show was over, Davy and Micky joined Mike in the kitchen. Micky helped himself to one of the blueberry muffins that Mike had picked up the day before, while Davy settled himself beside Mike once he had gotten himself a cup of coffee.
“Say, where’s Petah?” Davy asked with his British accent.
“Out for a walk.” Mike answered, not looking up from his paper. He reached over for his toast and discovered that it wasn’t there anymore. He glared at Micky who had grabbed the toast after wolfing down his muffin.
“Sorry.” Micky apologized, giving Mike a sheepish look. He put back the half-eaten piece of toast on Mike’s plate.
“I don’t want it anymore! Go ahead and finish it.” Mike grumbled and went back to read his paper. A knock on the door startled him to spill his coffee all over the table. “Dang it!” He stood up and reached for the paper towels. “Well answer it!” He snapped at Davy. The short Englishman threw his hands up in an “okay don’t have a heart attack” motion and scrambled over to the door. He opened it expecting Mr. Babbitt, but was startled himself when he saw the short brunette at their stoop.
“Hello!” She said cheerfully and grinned. “I’m Gwen Lewis, I live next door with my friends.” She held out her hand and Davy shook it, smiling now that he wasn’t surprised anymore.
“Hey Gwen. I’m Davy Jones. C’mon in.” He held the door open and she bobbed herself in. “Uh, this here is Micky Dolenz. And that tall, grouchy-looking guy is Mike Nesmith.”
“Hi!” She chirped.
“How’s it going?” Micky stretched and shook the girl’s hand. Mike glared at Davy but approached Gwen with all smiles.
“Pleased to meet you.”
“You too, Mike.”
Just then Peter jogged in.
“Morning, guys! Hey, who’s this?” He jogged over and smiled at the stranger.
“Oh, this is Gwen, she and her friends moved in next door.” Davy informed him.
“New neighbors, then! Well, why don’t you guys come over for dinner tonight?” Peter invited her while still jogging in place.
“Okay! Sounds great, we’ll be here…when?”
“How about eight o’clock?” Mike butted in, earning an odd look from Peter.
“Great, great! We’ll be there!” Gwen flashed smiles at everyone and bounced out of the boy’s apartment.
“She seems nice, doesn’t she?” Peter asked as he jogged over to the kitchen.
“Yeah, she does.” Davy answered. He looked at himself in the mirror and decided to get ready for the dinner that night.
“You what?” Anne screeched at her small friend.
“I said we’d have din-“
“I heard you the first time. But why? We don’t even know them!” She blew a strand of hair off her face with a look of frustration.
“Duh, we won’t ever know them if we never speak to them! Besides, they’re cute!”
“Is that all you think about?” Anne rolled her eyes.
“Cute?” June poked her head into the room. “Who’s cute?”
“The guys next door.” Gwen grinned devilishly at the tall girl.
“Details!” June sat on the couch the movers had set precariously in the middle of the living room earlier that morning. Gwen plopped herself right next to June, her brown eyes flashing with excitement.
“June!” Anne snapped with exasperation, but was ignored by her anyway. She sighed and sat on the other side of Gwen.
“Well, first there’s this short English guy, like an inch taller than me-“
“Great, a midget.”
“Oh hush Anne. Who else?”
“-And there’s this taller blonde guy with amazing dimples, and a really tall dark-haired guy who was incredibly sexy, and he was wearing a green wool hat with a bubble-thingie on top, and I think he’s from Oklahoma or somewhere in the south, and then there’s this other guy with curly dark hair and he looked a bit like Tad Hamilton, remember him from tenth grade, Anne?”
“Oh yeah, now that guy was seriously good-looking.”
“Well, I think this guy’s name is Micky and he looked just like him, I swear.” Gwen took a deep breath as June and Anne sat in silence, contemplating the guys.
“Tell me more about the blonde guy.” June grinned.
For the rest of the day, both sexes looked forward to that night’s dinner. Davy and June spent most of their time primping, Anne and Mike sat anxiously by themselves, and Peter, Micky and Gwen were just plain excited.
“Should I wear my peasant dress, or mini-skirt?” Gwen held up both prospects and looked at June expectantly.
“Um…er…” June’s eyed the outfits uncertainly.
“Gwen, why are you asking June? She can’t make up her mind on when to use the bathroom, let alone choosing your clothes for you.” Anne called from the kitchen. June’s eyes narrowed at her and she stalked away to her bedroom.
“Well, what do you think?” Gwen skipped into the kitchen.
“They’re both ugly.” Anne decided.
“Okay then, I’ll wear the peasant dress.” Gwen sniffed.
“Then can I wear the mini-skirt?”
“You just said they were ugly!”
“On you. On me it’ll look good.”
“Oh fine then.” Gwen tossed her the skirt.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“Well, I’m ready.” Micky said at about two-o’clock in the afternoon.
“Me too.” Peter headed over to the refrigerator.
“I think I’m looking my grooviest.” Davy conceited as he combed his hair into the perfect place.
“Guys?” Mike called from the upstairs bathroom.
“What?” The other three yelled at the same time.
“Hat, or no hat?”
“Hat.” They all agreed, once again simultaneously.
“’Kay.” He slid down the banister.
“So…what are we gonna do until tonight?” Micky asked.
“I dunno. Maybe we ought to cook something?” Davy suggested, still combing.
“Oh yeah.” Mike examined the pad. “Maybe we should clean up a little, huh?”
“Yeah.”