After the meeting, we went out for dinner at a small café, down Main Street. It was hours after we left the apartment, and we were worried about Roger being alone on Christmas Day.
We walked down the street, laughing and talking about our day. Mark and I told them about Maureen's unfaithfulness, Tom and Angel told us about their bonding before the meeting. Mark and I shot sly glances at each other as Tom and Angel skipped ahead of us, holding hands and giggling.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Mark whispered to me, and I giggled.
"If you're thinking of romantic sabotage, then yes, we are on the same wavelength." I smiled, and casually walked up next to Angel, Mark following suit on Tom's side. Now, we hadn't planned ahead. But once Mark winked, I cupped my hands around my mouth and said, "Toooom!" and Mark said, "Hey, Angel!" They both turned to face the opposite direction, and, thank God their mouths were closed, because as soon as they turned around, Mark and I pushed them together and they, err, "kissed." We glanced at each other for a few milliseconds, then, with a whoop of joy from me, we both ran off.
"Hey, you stupid lil' albinos! Get back here so I can beat your faces!" We heard Tom scream behind us. I giggled, started running backwards, waved, and almost tripped turning back around. Mark caught me, and once he did that, Angel and Tom caught up. Apparently there were no hard feelings (thank God,) so we walked the short distance to the apartment when I heard a familiar voice.
"Hey... isn't that Mimi?" I said carefully, and we walked around the corner to see Mimi shouting up at the highest fire escape, the one from our apartment. Angel wrapped an arm around Mimi's shoulders, and led her back to her apartment. Mark and I shot a glance at each other, and walked back up to the flat, hand in hand. I peeked my head in first, and said, "Roger baby? You alright?" When I saw the coast was clear, I led Mark in and noticed Roger sitting on the windowsill. I lifted my finger up to my lips, then to Mark's, and tiptoed back into our room.
***
The next morning, I woke up to an empty room. I stretched out of my blankets, yawning like a cat, and stomped into the kitchen. I saw Mark and Roger on the same windowsill from last night, talking quietly.
"Look... Mimi's gonna be at Maureen's show tonight. You can come, if you want. You need to get out more." Mark said, tapping Roger's knee. Then he got up and hugged me good morning. I placed one of my hands on his back, the other was tangled in a blanket. We were both worried about Roger. But we had a Life Support meeting to go to.
"There's only one question." I didn't have AIDS, but according to Paul, my opinion as a reporter was welcomed, especially since I planned on running a column in the New York Times called Life Support. "I hear it out of every patient's mouth: Will I lose my dignity? And I must say, I've never heard something much more... love inspired. I know people who are afraid to live, afraid to love, because of a simple diagnosis. I know, I know, it's not that simple. But as I say, simplicity is in the eye of the beholder." I smiled, and just as I finished my speech, the door slammed shut. We turned around, and I heard Tom say, "Yeahh booy!" as Roger pulled up a chair and sat down. He had his guitar in hand, and I didn't know how long he had been standing at the door, but long enough to come with a song that went a little like this:
"Will I lose my dignity? Will someone care...? Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare...?"
Tom and Angel put their arms around his shoulders, and Mark, camera in hand, came up behind me and placed a hand on my shoulder as we sang along, and it seemed like a perfectly happy little moment. After the meeting, the tension between the four of us and Roger was lifted as we walked out of there, laughing, and in Angel and Tom's case, holding hands. We needed to get to the Performance Space so we could help Maureen with her soundcheck, and since the community center was in Brooklyn, we needed to take the subway.
As soon as we got down the stairs, Angel started singing,
"New York City, center of the universe." As she sang we cheered her on, "Sing it, girl! Yeahhh!" "Times are shitty, but I'm pretty sure they can't get worse." Roger added, "I hear that." "It's a comfort to know, when you're singing the hit-the-road blues, that anywhere else you could possibly go after New York would be," she walked inside the subway and smiled at us through the window, "a pleasure cruise." Tom clapped and said, "Now you're talking!"
We spent the train ride discussing our new plan: we were going to gather up all our money and move out West, to Santa Fe. We would open a restaurant, Mark as the chef, Roger writing the menu, Angel providing the entertainment, Tom as the maitre'd, and myself as the publicity officer, as I called myself. After we got off the train, Mark dragged Roger and I to Maureen's soundcheck as to leave Tom and Angel alone. I smiled and waved as I grabbed onto Mark's hand so I wouldn't lose him.
"Why are you taking me?" Roger asked as soon as we were out of earshot. Mark and I gave him a look, and he nodded, a look of confusion and acceptance on his face. We only had a short while to walk to the Performance Space, and when we got there, we were greeted by the sight of Maureen and Joanne arguing. Mark coughed, Roger scuffed his foot on the floor, and I spun around and fell. The only one of the three sounds that got the girls' attention was me falling and Mark hurrying to pick me up. Maureen ran over and as soon as I got up, hugged me.
"Kiley! Oh my God! Mark, you didn't tell me she was home!" she scolded Mark playfully, still pinning my arms to my sides. Mark, looking sheepish, rubbed the back of his neck and smiled.
"Well, I haven't talked to you since you yesterday, and I didn't have a chance to talk much about my personal life." he said, and Maureen hugged him, then Roger. I walked over to Joanne, who was looking a bit steamed.
"You okay, Jo?" I asked, using the pet name my mom had used with her sister, also named Joanne. "Had a spat with Maureen?"
Joanne scowled, then nodded. "I confronted her about the little... overlap between her two relationships. Then she brought out the whole 'pookie' thing, and it was all downhill from there." Maureen dragged Roger over to Joanne and introduced them.
"Hey, Jo, this is Roger. He's Mark and Kiley's roommate. And Roger, this is Joanne. My new girlfriend and production manager." Maureen looked happy as hell, Mark looked upset, Roger looked awkward, Joanne looked pissed, and then there was me, smiling and shifting from foot to foot.
"So! Let's get this soundcheck on a roll!" I jumped up on stage and started singing Bon Jovi's "Living on a Prayer," much to the amusement of my companions. Then Maureen got up on stage and started her protest performance. I had seen better, hell, much better than this chick. But if she was going to let Mark and I use her performance for kudos points in our careers, then I would have to grin and bear it. When she stopped, she spun around to face us and spread out her arms.
"Well, what did you think?" she said, beaming at us. I managed to fake a smile and a thumbs up before anyone could say anything mean. Joanne, of course, started clapping, because she was nice like that. Mark stood there, mouth agape, and Roger was covering his mouth to avoid giggling aloud.
"You did great, baby!" Joanne hopped up on stage and kissed Maureen on the cheek. I felt as if I should say something, so I crossed my arms, looked up at the ceiling, and said,
"Well, I will congratulate your passion, Maureen, and I'll admit I have the same." I said carefully, and smiled. "And I know Mark and I are going to get major props for this performance." Maureen's smile got bigger and brighter, if that was possible. Mark laughed at my comment, and put an arm around my shoulders.
"I wouldn't be surprised that if tomorrow, there was a big article in the New York Times and a nice video on the Headline News in your honor." he said, pulling me closer. I knew Mark a lot better than this: he was doing this to make Maureen feel jealous... and he was failing majorly. But, to make him feel better, I snuggled my head into his chest and said,
"Well, if my editor lets me. He's been making me keep a journal like a fucking newspaper, and if he makes me do any more grade-school 'tutorials', I'm probably going to be back in jail before I can transfer to the Express Times." I grinned maliciously, and pulled my journalist's notebook out of my pocket. I've been scribbling in it since I got to Mark and Roger's apartment.
"Alright, I think we should go get ready for the performance tonight!" Maureen said, bouncing off stage. "We'll see you guys tonight, come on, Pookie!" Joanne followed reluctantly, waving good-bye to us. As soon as they went through the door, we all started laughing.
"Are you guys really going to write about that? Because it's a bit early for April Fool's Day." Roger wheezed, doubling over in giggles.
"Ahahahah! Well, you never know. Maybe people will be too stoned or drunk to tell." I said, leaning up against the stage. "What time is the show?"
Mark looked at his watch in response to my question. "Three hours. Eight." When he said we had three hours, I jumped up.
"Are you serious?! Then why are we still hanging around here? I need to get ready, and don't we need to be back here by seven to help Maureen and Joanne set up?" When Roger and Mark nodded, I pulled them by the hands. "Well, then, come on!"
We walked back to the flat, laughing and chatting about nothing in particular. On the way up the stairs, we passed Mimi, who sent smiles to me and Mark but daggers to Roger. We smiled and waved back, and Roger stood behind us, looking sheepish. When we walked into the apartment and closed the door, nothing needed to be said to get a sigh of remorse from Roger, who threw his hands over his head and plopped down on the couch. Mark and I shared a satisfied glance, and sat down next to him.
"Are you going to invite her to come with us after Maureen's show now, Roger?" I asked, sitting on the armrest with my feet reclining on his shoulder.
"It's not like she's going to have hard feelings. She really likes you." Mark said, "And this might be good for you." Roger sighed again, then looked at the two of us, grinning like the evil monkeys from the Wizard of Oz and not taking 'no' for an answer.
"Alright. I'll go, and invite Mimi to come to the Life Café with us." he said reluctantly, and I slapped his leg and said, "Atta boy!" But then I realized he was wearing those plaid pyjama pants... ooh.
"Change outta those pants, dude." Mark said, taking the words right out of my mouth. "This isn't high school." WE laughed at him as he threw his sweatshirt at us and stalked off to his room. I grabbed Mark's hand to drag him into our room so he could get a new outfit and go in the bathroom. I didn't want him walking in on me, and neither did he.
