Ch. 9 - POV: COllins
"I said, "something wrong?" Now I long for yesterday."
- Yesterday, The Beatles
It was good to be home. Boston was nice, but nothing compared to New York.
Things had changed a lot since I'd left, but I was expecting that. What I was expecting was how down everyone was. The mood in the loft just wasn't what it used to be. What this the same place Angel danced for us? The same place Mimi was miraculously revived? The same place we dreamed of Santa Fe? Got drunk? Stayed up all night? It didn't feel like it.
Lily was interesting. I liked her – she was really smart and, although she didn't say much, she was pretty funny when she did. I was glad Mark had found her. He deserved someone good. And it was clear he was completely taken with her. She, on the other hand, seemed very distracted.
The more I got to know her, the less I got to know her, somehow. When I first showed up she smiled politely and made small talk, but the longer I stayed at the loft, the more introverted her became, like she couldn't keep pretending to care what was happening to me or anyone else.
"Mark," I said a few days later, "what's up with your girl?"
"Huh?" he muttered stupidly as he fiddled with something on his camera.
"You're girl: little miss Chicago. She all right?"
Mark finally looked up and faced me. "Yeah. I think so. Why?"
"Well, for starters she don't talk much anymore. And she just sits inside and reads all day – like she's our new Roger or something."
Mark smiled at that.
"Don't tell me you haven't noticed."
Mark sighed, setting his camera down. "Lily's sister died about a year ago. In two day's it's the anniversary of her death… she's been pretty down and I'm guessing that's why. They were really close."
I nodded. I could understand that. But something still didn't feel right. "So, that's it?"
Mark shrugged, trying to brush this off. I knew that he was worried there was something more to this – something too 'real' for him, which meant something to be avoided. "I don't know… sometimes her back hurts her. Maybe that's why she really isn't doing much."
"What's wrong with her back?"
"She fell a couple of months ago," he explained. "Down some stairs, I think she said. Messed it up pretty bad, but she ended up all right. Just hurts her sometimes."
"Oh," mumbled, grabbing a beer and sitting on the couch. "Guess that explains it, then."
But I didn't believe myself.
"Where were you last night, huh?" I said with a mischievous grin.
Maureen just shrugged as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "Out."
"Out where?"
She rolled her eyes. "Does it matter, Collins?"
"Whoa, sorry…" I grumbled, a little taken back that she had snapped at me.
She pressed her hand to her forehead. "No, I'm sorry. Never mind. Let's just move on."
"Okay…"
Maureen sighed, staring into her mug.
"You all right, Mo?"
She nodded, absently.
What the hell is wrong with everyone? I thought to myself. This loft is mother fucking Depression-ville.
"Collins?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think I should get a job?"
I wouldn't have been more surprised is she's pulled out a baseball bat and cracked me over the head with it. "Excuse me?"
"You know… a job. A regular one. Where you make money."
"Maureen… are you high?"
She finally gave in and smiled. "No. I'm being serious. Mark's commission is still good and Lily's helping out… but Roger's meds and the rent are really expensive. I should, you know… do my part."
"I can help, to, you know."
"I know, I know…"
"And you know I'd never let you guys get into any trouble money-wise, right? We could always go back to that ATM," I said with a little laugh.
"Did you nearly get arrested for that?" Maureen said, with a smile.
"Nearly."
She sighed. "Well, thanks Collins. But… maybe I should get on anyway, you know? Start to have some kind of normal life."
"Maureen, I don't ever wanna hear those words out your mouth again."
She laughed. "Right, I forgot: anarchy, revolution…"
"Exactly."
"Collins?"
"Mmhmm?"
"Am I bad person?"
I furrowed my brow. What was going on? This was not the Maureen I'd always known. "Of course not."
We sat in silence for a while as I absent mindedly skimmed the Village Voice. She stared down at the coffee she hadn't touched. "I'm sleeping with Benny."
I felt as if I'd just run face-first into a brick wall. I had no idea what to say. Tears gathered in her eyes and I just stood there, stupidly, trying to somehow make sense of what she'd just said.
"No you're not," I finally said. I couldn't process this, it couldn't be true.
She set down her mug, covering her face with her hands.
Oh shit, she's telling the truth.
I pulled her into a hug, hoping she wouldn't be able to tell I was almost shaking. Not because of what she had just told me, but because Maureen – strong, unshakeable Maureen – was crying. What was I supposed to do?
"It's okay…" I said, softly. "It's okay."
"I-I-I…"
"You don't have to feel bad. I understand," I lied.
"Roger will hate me," he kept murmuring, "Roger will hate me."
"No he won't."
"But... but I think I'm falling for him, Collins."
"What?"
She pulled away from me, trying to wipe her eyes. "I think I'm falling in love with him."
Fuck.
