Chapter Eleven

Collins nervously fumbled through a year-old magazine. He detested hospitals. They made him anxious and uneasy. The antiseptic odors were nauseating to him. Hospitals reminded him of suffering and death -- namely Angel's suffering and death. Those final days had been horrible. Nightmarish. He put down his magazine and rubbed his aching head with both hands. Angel. Why couldn't he clear his mind? Why couldn't he get some relief from his thoughts of her? She's been dead for almost three months, he reminded himself. I have to find a way past this. Collins dropped his head sadly. His shoulders sagged as if weighted down by an enormous burden. He wondered if he'd ever be able to love again. Of course it would be difficult since part of him, he realized, had been buried on that day Angel was laid to rest. At the same time, however, he understood that Angel would want him to be happy.

Stop, he ordered himself silently. Stop doing this. Stop grieving. She's gone now, and there's nothing more to do about it. Don't be troubled by things you can't control. No day but today, remember? No day but today…

He stood quickly as Mark emerged from Roger's hospital room. "What's going on?" he asked eagerly.

"He's going to be fine," Mark assured him. "He's pretty banged-up, though. Had to have several stitches. And he's got a concussion. The doctor wants to keep him over night for observation. But he's okay."

Collins heaved a sigh of relief as he and Mark embraced. Roger had given them a good scare; that was for sure. "I'm gonna…go in and see him," Collins said. "Maureen's on her way. Will you…?"

"Yeah. I'll wait out here for her." Mark gave him a reassuring smile and took Collins' place in the waiting room chair.

Collins braced himself as he walked down the blank, cold, white hallway toward Roger's room. He entered slowly and spotted Roger sitting up on the side of a hospital bed. Mimi was beside him, snuggled as close as she could get. The pair smiled as Collins entered.

"You all right, man?" Collins questioned. "'Cause if you are, I'm gonna kick your ass for scaring me like that!"

Roger managed a feeble grin, then motioned for Collins to sit down in a nearby chair. Collins obliged. "I'm fine," Roger replied.

"He lost a lot of blood so he's very weak," Mimi informed Collins softly. "But he won't lie down."

"I'm fine, Mimi, really." Roger appeared comforted by her mere presence.

"Well, tell me what happened," Collins directed, eyeing Roger's bruises.

"It was no big deal," Roger replied.

"No big deal?" Mimi scoffed. Then she turned to Collins. "He was injured while defending my honor," she boasted proudly.

"Really?" Collins grinned slyly. "Do tell!"

"Oh, we went to this club downtown to look at a drummer. When we got there, the guy we had gone to see wasn't onstage yet, so we had a couple drinks. And this girl…"

"Their waitress," Mimi interjected.

"…started flirting with all of us. When she started talking dirty I told her to leave us alone. Said we weren't interested. The guys got pissed and asked me what my problem was. I told 'em to fuck off and they got even more pissed. Then they tried to start a fight with me by calling me names and reminding me of the shit I used to do. And when that didn't work they started bad-mouthing Mimi; asking me if I knew I was screwing a stripper. I guess they had seen her dance at the Catscratch or whatever. Anyway, then I got pissed and started the fight."

"Wait a minute…you got a concussion from some bar fight?" Collins asked.

"We all threw some punches. I…seem to remember hitting my head on a table. Anyway, the manager threw all of us out. I guess I must've passed out, and then you picked me up off the sidewalk. Thanks." Roger smiled at him goofily, forcing Collins to laugh.

"Well you certainly scared the hell outta me," Collins told him. "Even got me inside a hospital. But I guess this means no reunion tour."

Roger's face grew dismal. "Yeah," he responded dully.

"Ah, don't worry, Roger," Mimi encouraged. She rubbed his shoulder tenderly. "There are lots of other musicians in New York City. You can start fresh…build your own band. And you know, I'll be proud of you no matter what."

"Thank you, Baby," Roger smiled. He put an arm around her and drew her closer, then kissed her softly. Mimi snuggled nearer and rested her head on his chest.

Collins got the hint. "Well, I'll let you two be alone," he said as he headed for the door. He gave a short wave as he looked back at Roger. "I'm really glad you're okay, man."

"Thanks, Collins."

The gentle anarchist returned to the waiting room where Mark and Maureen sat chatting. Maureen stood quickly and embraced him in an enormous bear hug. "How you doin', honey?" she asked.

"I'm okay," Collins smiled humbly. "Glad Roger's okay."

"Me, too," Maureen sighed. "I think I'll go in and say hello. Mark, are you coming?"

"Yes Maureen."

Collins smirked. Maureen had him whipped again. And Mark, the poor fool, didn't even know what had hit him. Collins loved Maureen, though. They had found they shared a strangely close bond when Maureen and Mark dated two years previous. Collins adored Maureen's candid, tolerant, albeit dramatic, personality. She was fearless; unafraid to speak her mind about any topic, regardless of who was listening. He admired her boldness and nonconformity. And Collins liked the idea of Maureen and Mark as a couple. Maureen's presence in the loft made it feel like home again.

"Well I'm going outside to smoke," Collins informed them. "If you guys hurry up we can take the subway home together."

"We won't be long," Mark promised.

Collins stepped outside into the brisk, cold night and lit a cigarette. He pulled his leather coat nearer to him as he puffed. I can make it, he assured himself noiselessly. As long as I have these people, my family, by my side, I'm going to be just fine. He smiled as he blew billows of smoke into the night air, somehow certain that his respite was imminent.

Maureen clutched Mark's arm gently as they climbed up the stairs toward the loft. She wanted him back; she was sure of it now. And she knew exactly how to sway him. Maureen smirked when she felt his muscles tense beneath her hand. He would love her again. She was convinced he had never stopped loving her in the first place. She adored Mark's sweet submissiveness; a quality Joanne certainly didn't possess. He was talented and intelligent, dedicated to his work and loyal to his friends. She supposed she really had missed Mark. She finally appreciated him for who he was. They could be together. They could make things work. She just had to convince him she was willing to be monogamous…she had to convince herself that she could be monogamous, too.

"You're blushing, Marky," Maureen graciously pointed out. She grinned again as she watched him loosen his striped scarf and unbutton his plaid coat.

"It's just warm in here, that's all," Mark muttered. He frowned at Collins who chuckled quietly behind them.

As they entered the loft, Collins crossed to the "kitchen" and fixed himself a bowl of cereal. He crunched on it loudly as he stood at the counter and skimmed the newspaper. Maureen removed her coat and scarf hastily as Mark checked their messages.

"Mark honey? Are you there? I don't think he's there…" It was Mark's mom calling from Scarsdale. Maureen giggled when Mark rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Just wanted to let you know, dear, that your father and I will be in the city next weekend…"

"Shit," Mark hissed.

"Your sister Cindy has bought us tickets to a Broadway show. Isn't that wonderful? She's sending us out for a night on the town for our 40th wedding anniversary!"

"Hint, hint." Maureen nudged Mark.

"Yeah, I'm the black sheep 'cause I'm too broke to even afford a card," Mark announced.

"…having my hair done and everything. Anyway, sweetheart, I'd like to see you while we're in town…"

"Notice she didn't say anything about my dad wanting to see me."

"…call you once we've arrived, okay dear? Love, Mom."

"Great!" Mark's aggravation was more than obvious.

"Oh, come on, Pookie," Maureen said affectionately. "So your folks are coming to the city. It won't be so bad."

"Oh yes it will!" Mark removed his coat and scarf as he stormed toward his room. He stopped in the doorway and looked back at the drama queen. "Maureen?" he said, bracing himself with both arms grasping either side of the doorframe.

"Yes?" Maureen rushed toward him eagerly. This was it! He wanted her; she knew it.

"Never call me Pookie again." Mark stepped into his bedroom and closed the door behind him.

Maureen crossed her arms in a pout and growled at Collins when he began laughing at her heartily. I will get him back, Maureen thought to herself. Mark and I have history. We're good for each other. I have to find some way to win him back.

She stomped over to Collins and bumped him playfully with her right hip. He nudged her in return and then put his arm over her shoulders. They stood there for several moments, simply staring at the newspaper and enjoying the comfort of a friend's nearness.