Ditched. Again.
Maureen was late. We were supposed to go out together that night. Collins was going to stay home with Roger, though in all actuality Roger was probably going to lock himself in his room like always. The withdrawal had gotten considerably better, but his usual daily routine still involved nothing more than sitting in his bedroom all day. So when the phone rang almost an hour after Maureen was supposed to be home, I jumped on it.
"Hello?"
"Hi baby!" Almost immediately I knew that the night was off. I could hear loud chatter in the background. "Hey, something is up and I don't think I'm gonna make it tonight. Do you forgive me?"
I sighed into the phone. "You can't come home?"
She hesitated. I could hear her put her hand over the phone and I could picture her holding the receiver at arm's length as she said something with a laugh to whoever it was that she was with. "No, I don't think so. I'd probably be really late."
"I'll wait up." I said. But the line clicked off, and I wasn't even sure if she had heard me. I sighed again and slammed the phone onto the receiver. Dejected, I moped across the loft to the couch.
So when Collins came home about an hour later, I was sitting on the couch wrapped in a blanket. Several candles sat on the table in front of me, lit. I had turned out all the other lights to conserve. The only other light source was the string of white Christmas lights that framed the front door that we hadn't bothered to take down after last Christmas.
"What are you doing here?" Collins asked. He had, as was per usual, a paper bag with Stoli and paper cups, under his arm. "I thought you had a date with Maureen."
"She ditched me." I said grumpily.
I watched Collins put down his keys and his Stoli, take off his coat, and then promptly remove the cups and vodka from the paper bag.
"Oooh, shit, man." He said as he did all this. I sighed and rolled my eyes in the other direction.
It was a habit of Maureen's that I really needed to start getting used to. It had started happening with increasing intensity during the worst parts of Roger's withdrawal, and it wasn't that I couldn't blame her—but a little support would be nice.
"Where's Roger? In his room?" Collins asked me.
"As always." I murmured. Collins sat down in the ratty chair in front of me and set two paper cups on the coffee table. He then proceeded to pour a generous amount of Stoli into each of them, then slid one toward me and took his own. I felt too depressed to take mine.
"Well, have a drink and talk a while." Collins said. I knew he was trying his best to cheer me up. This sort of thing happened often nowadays. And afterwards, I was never sure if it was the Stoli or the company and conversation that Collins provided that made me feel better.
"She's probably cheating on me." I said. Collins downed his drink and set the cup down on the table. The look he gave me was slightly unsettling—it was one that seemed to say, " i Well, yeah, everyone knows that. But I'm trying to pretend that this is breaking news. /i "
Instead, he said, "Don't be so down on yourself."
"She always makes up these stories. i 'Met a few people after auditions and went for a drink' /i or i 'Sorry Pookie, just got caught up with the rehearsal for this new show' /i . What kind of schmuck am I for believing that shit?" I asked.
"Then break up with her." Collins said. "Mark, if you're unhappy, give her the boot."
"I can't do that." I said miserably. Finally, I reached my hand out of the blanket that was wrapped around my shoulders and picked up the cup of vodka. I drank it down and grimaced. "That's the last thing I need, dealing with a raging Roger on one ear and a raging Maureen on the other. Besides…"
"Besides what?" Collins asked as he poured us both more alcohol.
"I don't know. When all's said and done I'm not really mad at her…she always makes it better anyway."
Collins smirked and drank down his round. "Well Mark, maybe it's time to start thinking about what you i do /i need. Remember, she's out of the loft because you told her to go, at least till this shit with Roger is over. If you can't deal with Roger and Maureen, maybe it's time to leave one of them behind." He said thoughtfully.
I sighed but knew that he was right. Easier said than done, obviously. I couldn't break up with Maureen and go home to a Roger who may or may not be in the mood to throw something at me; but at the same time I couldn't move out. Where would I go?
"Oh my god." I groaned, running my hands down my face in frustration. No, I couldn't break up with Maureen. Besides, I was still in love with her—almost too much for my own good.
"Yeah, life's pretty shitty like that sometimes." I heard Collins say.
I laughed. "What an insightful way to look at it." I said as I took my drink. Already I was starting to feel better about being ditched—again—by Maureen and her excuses.
For a while, we were both silent.
Then, "Hey man, I know this isn't what you want to hear right now, but…looks like I'll be moving out in a few weeks."
I raised both my eyebrows. "Why?"
"I got a job. Teaching. At MIT."
I wasn't expecting the response to slip from my mouth. "Shit." Collins was right: it was not what I wanted to hear. That meant that I had two problems on my hands: dealing with Roger by myself, and dealing with Maureen bitching at me for never paying attention to her. It was bound to happen, knowing Maureen.
"Sorry man. I know Roger isn't the best of company right now but…it'll get better."
"We'll manage." I said, forcing a smile. In all practicality, Roger's health was more important to me right now than dealing with Maureen's immature attitude. Roger had no one except for me and—for another few weeks at least—Collins. Maureen could manage, as it was already vividly apparent. "And—congratulations. Where are my manners. It's quite an achievement."
Collins held up his cup and I toasted him. I smiled.
Collins was always worth a smile.