Disclaimer:  All characters (except the obvious ones: Elena and Kaye) belong to the Jonathan Larson estate.

I've always wanted a baby. When I was with April, before I was caught in the throes of heroin addiction, there would be nights where we would just lie awake for hours talking about our future, a wedding and our family. Hope and Jon…twins. A boy and a girl. A beautiful, small home far, far away from New York City. But the quiet house in the country with a white picket fence and our two perfect children were quickly swallowed by my growing addiction and April's undiagnosed disease. In the end, April killed herself, and with her my health, happiness, and fantasy.


In time though, the dream was reinvented in Mimi, the beautiful girl whom fate brought knocking at my door one chilly Christmas Eve 20 years ago. She just had this air about her… this glowing vibrancy and love of life that attracted me to her from the moment I first laid eyes on her. With Mimi, my fantasy had almost become a reality. Elena was due to be born on March 27th, an accidental pregnancy, but that didn't make the event any less joyous. In our final months together, Mimi and I shared long walks at night where we would argue over baby names, the joy of picking out a crib and stuffed animals, bottles and cute blankets with yellow ducks and pink elephants, and the elation of the rush to the delivery room at 2:00 a.m. that warm spring morning.


Mimi died giving birth on March 24th, and Elena didn't even make it through one night. In the year following I barely spoke a word to anyone. I had pretty much given up on life, and had decided to finalize that by swallowing 79 separate AZT pills. When I awoke in the hospital bed a week later, Mark was there sitting by my side, clutching my hand tightly, tears streaming down his pale, grief-stricken face. I later found out from my good friend, Maureen, that he had stayed with me that entire time, sleeping on cold benches in the waiting room, and holding my hand every day from 9 'til 5.


The day that I returned home from the hospital I had this dream, so realistic that even now, 18 years later, I can still remember every detail. April and Mimi were smiling down at me from Heaven, my one year old toddler sitting right between them, sucking on a bright red teething ring. When I told Mark about the dream he joked that April and Mimi had gotten together and were now raising Elena on their own, and suggested that maybe it was a sign for me to move on. And so I did. I started going to Life Support full time again, and I even started seeing a therapist who helped me deal with the grief and the guilt left behind after Mimi and my daughter's untimely death.


In time, I even sought after a new love interest, though I didn't dare summon up the courage to reveal my feelings or make a move. It was an accident, really. A stupid joke that brought the two of us together. It had been a long day; Collins, Maureen, Joanne, Mark and I were sitting around the loft just talking and reminiscing. Somehow the conversation lapsed into silence, and someone made the ludicrous suggestion of playing Spin the Bottle. With only two other women in the room the odds were not looking too good for me, so I protested the idea profusely. But ten minutes later, there I was sitting in that circle, only an old wine bottle separating Mark and I. The others cheered and howled with laughter while I sat there in horror, my face turning several different shades of red. But rules were rules. I kissed Mark. And from that one simple, heated, blissful kiss grew the intimate relationship we now share today. The only problem with my new love was that I was faced with the impossibility of being denied the one thing I wanted most in life: a child. The solution? Adoption.


Mark and I adopted Kaye (a gorgeous, dark-haired Latina who we chose in honor of Elena) 16 years ago. She was a special child, and raising her with Mark has by far been the best experience of my life. But those years weren't so easy on Kaye, who was already a bit of an outcast from the start, having two gays parents, one of whom was an HIV positive ex-junkie. She was teased and taunted all throughout middle school and high school, but the torture never grew violent until about two weeks ago.

 
It was late, almost 1:00 in the morning, and Kaye was never one to stay out late, or even go out much, at all. At 2:30 I decided it was time to go out and search for her, and it was in my absence that Mark received the call.


We rushed to the hospital, but by then she was already in a coma, fighting for each labored breath supplied by the oxygen machine that hummed noisily by her side. The equipment hooked up to her continued to beep slowly but as the days passed, our hope began to fade, as did Kaye's will to live. The time of death: 1:22 p.m., February 22nd.


The days before I met April and the year after Elena died were by far the most heartbreaking of my life, the most lonely and dismal, because I was denied the privilege of having my own child, someone to raise and to love, someone who would return that love unconditionally. And now, as I watch through water-altered vision as my dream come true is lowered into the ground, it is clear that my future with Mark will be just as lonely.

~the end~