Copyright: Characters from RENT and any lines alluding to lyrics belong to the late great Jonathan Larson. The members of the Bohemian Offspring belong to me. This is my second attempt at a fic. So if you think I am doing something wrong, such as I'm not portraying any of the characters in a way that you think would do them justice – that's what the Review Box is for. Thanks.
September 2, 5:19 pm.
Six-year-old Roger Davis, Jr. stomped his foot onto the linoleum floor. "Do I have to?" he whined.
Mimi pointed to the table. "Finish your homework," she said firmly.
Roger tried to run, but she grabbed him and steered him to a chair. "You're not getting any ice cream unless you finish all of your homework."
She sat down next to the scowling boy and peered at the open workbook. Roger folded his arms across his chest and turned away from her. "Oh, come on, it's only subtraction. I'll help you." She read over the first problem. "If Sally has three apples and she gives one away to Bobby…"
"Then she's stupid!" Roger said.
"What?"
"If I had three apples, I wouldn't give them away to anyone."
Mimi laughed. "You can't possibly eat all of the apples by yourself!" She got herself back on track. "OK, Sally gives up one of her apples because – unlike you – she shares her things – how many apples does she have left?"
The little boy frowned. "Why can't she give Bobby a dog?"
Mimi shook her head. She knew what her soon-to-be stepson was doing. He utterly hated math and would do anything to avoid the dreaded subject. He's stubborn, just like his father.
She began the next question. "Barry has five marbles. He gives one to Larry. How many marb…" Suddenly, a sharp pain jabbed her in the abdomen.
Roger watched in horror as his dad's girlfriend, doubled over in pain, staggered from the table and sank onto the floor. He instinctively jumped from his chair and rushed over to her side. "Mimi!" he cried. "Mimi!"
Mimi looked at him. "Ro-ger, the – phone," she gasped. "Di-al 911 and," she breathed heavily. "Give me the phone."
The wide-eyed boy did as he was instructed. He reached for the phone and handed Mimi the receiver.
"Hello? … Yes, I – I'm in labor," Mimi sputtered into the phone. "No, I – have – one month to go."
What's wrong with Mimi? Roger bit his lip to keep from crying. She smiled reassuringly at him as if to say Everything is all right but he knew otherwise. He was a little kid; no one ever told little kids anything. He waited impatiently as Mimi told the person on the other end of the line their address.
"Here – Roger, hang – up – the – phone." Her breathing was becoming short and labored. After the child complied with her orders, she continued. "Now – I want – you – to – run – up – stairs – and – get – Mark." I hope to God he opens the door, she silently prayed. Mark had been experiencing recurrent bouts of depression within the last year, causing him to become withdrawn and irritable. He spent most of his time sitting in his room, staring at the wall. Please answer the door, Mark.
September 2. 5:25 pm.
Mark studied the cracks in the corner of the ceiling. I should know them by heart, he thought bitterly. I've been staring at the ceiling all day. How did his life get to be so pathetic? No, my life has always been pathetic. Everybody seemed to be changing. Roger and Mimi were having a baby, and Roger had suddenly discovered he had a son. Roger was the last person he'd have pictured raising a child. Mimi and Roger weren't the only ones. Back in March, Maureen and Joanne had approached him about being a sperm donor for the family they were planning. He had hesitated at first, but they had insisted. "You're the only one we can think of," Maureen had explained. "You're our best friend." Joanne was due at the end of February. He had heard from someone that Alison Grey was pregnant also, but he had not bothered to call Benny to confirm the rumor. The Bohemian Baby Boom, he said to himself. And me? How is my life? Boring. Completely and utterly boring. One might argue that he had changed – he was no longer the happy-go-lucky Mark that he was last year. No, I haven't changed. They never saw how miserable I was before this. [OK, I could go on, but this is not a Mark Angst fic. If you want to see Mark miserable, read another fic. Or torture Mark yourself. I have to get myself back on track.]
His inner complaints were interrupted by a knock at the door. It was faint at first, but it gradually grew louder. "Mark! Maaark!" the voice on the other side screamed. "Open up! Please open up!"
He recognized the voice. The little boy sounded frantic. He was still screaming as Mark trudged over to the deadbolt and undid the latch.
"Roger, what's wrong?" Mark asked worriedly.
The boy pointed to the stairwell. "Mimi's hurt!" He tugged on the filmmaker's arm and led him to the downstairs apartment. Mimi was curled up in a ball on the kitchen floor, clutching her stomach. Call Roger, she mouthed. Breathe in, breathe out …Breathe in, breathe out.
Mark picked up the phone. "Hey, Ted, is Roger there? … It's Mark. … No, it's an emergency!" Calm down, Mark. The last thing Mimi needs right now is for you to panic. "Roger? … It's Mimi …"
September 3, 2:07 am.
"Roger Davis?" the nurse asked. Roger stopped pacing long enough to look at the nurse. "That's me."
"You can see the mother and the baby now."
Mark and little Roger were both sprawled across the hospital chairs, sound asleep. Mark woke up with Roger's sudden movement. He cracked open a lazy eye to see his best friend running down the hallway.
Roger nearly knocked down the nurse as he hurriedly ran to Mimi's room. The doctors had tried to prevent the birth, but the water had broken, leaving no choice in the matter. Mimi and Roger had decided on a C-Scan in the hopes that it would minimize the unborn child's risk of infection. They wouldn't be able to test the baby for a few months. Roger pushed these thoughts out of his mind as he entered Mimi's room. He found her sitting up in the bed, cradling the infant.
"Hey, Mama," he whispered, bending down to kiss her cheek.
Mimi returned the kiss. "Say hello to your daughter, Daddy."
Roger pulled up a chair and took the infant from his girlfriend. Had he ever seen anything so beautiful? She looked so much like Mimi. She had Mimi's brown eyes and a mop of curly brown hair – the same traits that had caused him to fall in love with Mimi in the first place. But she definitely had his nose and cocky grin.
A doctor entered the room. "Have you decided what you're going to name her?" he asked the young couple.
Mimi turned to Roger. "I was thinking about April Josefina," she replied. "If that's all right with you."
Roger nodded. "It's fine," he assured her. Josefina did not pose any problem for him. That was Mimi's mother's name and she had insisted that it was family tradition to name daughters after their mothers. In fact, Mimi's real name was Maria Josefina Marquez. April was another story. The name conjured images of his bad days … heroin … needles … slit wrist … a note saying "We've got AIDS" … withdrawal … AZT. Even though he hated April for ruining his life, he still missed her. Mimi knows this, he reminded himself. She'd doing this for you. "April Josefina is perfect," he repeated. He gazed at the infant. "September 3, 2:15 am, Eastern Standard Time. Enter April Josefina Marquez-Davis – a new member of the Bohemian Offspring."
Mimi playfully jabbed his elbow. "Who are you? Mark?" she teased. "Give me April and tell Mark to get his ass in here."
Roger looked helplessly at her. "What?! You don't think that was good enough?" he grinned.
"Nah, Mark does it better."
Roger handed April back to Mimi. Some moments you can't get on film, he told himself as he went to retrieve the filmmaker. His thoughts turned back to his daughter. April, girl, you're going to have one interesting family. Yes, that was what they all were. Roger, Mimi, Mark, Joanne, Maureen, and Collins were more than friends – they were a family. Roger, Jr., April, and any future offspring were part of that bond. Friendship is thicker than blood.