Ch. 21 - POV: Lily

"And I have walked these streets so long. There ain't nothing right, there ain't nothing wrong, but the little wet tears on my baby's shoulder."
- Lady, Regina Spektor

Maureen and I ran down the stairs and swung open the door, stepping outside. It was only then that we realized that we had no idea where we should be going.

"Which way?" I asked, stupidly looking up and down the street in front of us, somehow hoping Roger had left a trail of breadcrumbs for us to follow.

He hadn't.

Maureen bit her bottom lip, thinking. "I don't know. Let's head that way," she said, pointing down to the left, "then we'll swing back around later."

I nodded and we headed off.

It was unusually cold. I pulled my sweater closer, looking up the road.

I felt Maureen looking at me.

I sighed. I knew exactly what was going through her head.

"You can ask me about it, you know."

"Can I?" she asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

I shrugged, shoving my hands into my pockets. "Well… what else have we got to talk about?"

Maureen looked away from me to her feet moving along the sidewalk. We both slowed down as we passed a narrow ally, searching it carefully. He wasn't there.

Our hearts sank.

Maureen turned back to me. "You know… you're right. We really don't have anything to talk about, do we?"

I played with my ring, twisting it around my finger. "We do," I said, looking back up at her, "but let's face it: everything we have to talk about is very dramatic and heavy. All doom and gloom. No small talk here."

She gave a small smile. "Yeah, I know… but I mean us, you know? We're not… friends."

I raised an eyebrow. "We're not?"

Maureen shrugged. "Well, we are, but… we're not close, are we?" She sighed and went on. "I mean, you and Mark are always together, and you and Collins talk all the time. You even got Roger talking to you that one time. But me and you?" She shrugged. "Nothing."

I shrugged, too. "Yeah, I guess you're right. But… you were the one I told about… about my problem," I pointed out, looking away.

"Right place, right time."

I didn't say anything. She was right. I had only told her because she was the first person I saw.

She looked over at me again. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

I meet her gaze. "Where?"

She ignored me. "Collins told me. He called me. I told him I wanted to come over, to see you," she rambled, "to be with you guys, but he said not to. He said," she went on, looking down at her feet, "that you just wanted to be on your own, that you weren't talking to anyone. Not even Mark, really. I thought I'd… just be in your way, you know?" She looked back up at me. "But I did want to be there for you. You know that, right? I would have been there in a heartbeat."

I nodded, swallowing an unexpected lump in my throat. I had hoped the subject of my almost-dive down the stairs wouldn't come up… but that was just wishful thinking. Besides, I had told her she could ask.

"I know you would have been there, Mo." I took her hand and squeezed it. "But I was all right… I am all right." I sighed. I did not want to talk about this, but I felt like I owed it to her somehow. After what I had put everyone through, and what they were going through, it would have been unfair of me to close myself off.

I laughed a little.

Maureen looked at me. "What?" she asked. "What's so funny?"

"It's nothing… it's just… do you remember the first night we met? When I first came to New York?"

"Yeah… what about it?"

"I remember… you were smoking on the balcony and I was trying to talk to you – butting in, I guess." I smiled again, remembering. "I must have been so annoying. All I wanted to do was talk to you and get you to open up to me… to be friends. The roles have kinda switched now, huh?"

Maureen smiled, too. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

I laughed quietly. An easy laugh. A sad laugh.

Maureen shrugged. "I don't now, Chicago… it's just… I've always had girlfriends, you know? Whether it was April, or Angel, or Mimi… I've always had girls around me. I think I've just been stuck with those boys for too long."

I smiled again. "To be honest, I've never really had any girlfriends. It was always just me and… and Shannon. Just the two of us, you know?"

Maureen nodded.

I shrugged, trying to smile again. "But, I think now I need one more then ever."

"Well," Maureen sighed, swinging her arm around my shoulder, "the pickings are pretty slim. Looks like you're stuck with me, Little Miss Chicago."

I smiled. "That's all right with me, Big Bad New York."

We started talking about the boys – about Collins most of all. Maureen told me all about Angel. She sounded amazing. I wished she could have been there with us – she would have known what to do.

"So, tell me what you know about this 'Tom' guy,' Maureen said as she kicked an empty bottle out of the way.

I thought for a minute. "Not much, actually. All I know is what Collins has made very clear – they're not dating."

Maureen nodded. "He's said that about a million times, hasn't he?" She sighed. "I think he just feels guilty. It's only been a few years since Angel died… maybe he thinks it's too soon."

I shrugged. "It's only too soon if he thinks it is. If he wants to go out with this guy, he should."

"Yeah, but I'm sure he's thinking about her." Maureen thought for a moment, a little smile finding its way onto her face, a distant look in her eye. "They loved each other so much, Chicago. You shoulda seen it. I don't think he'll ever be as happy with anyone as he was with Angel."

I nodded. "You're probably right."

Maureen shook herself out of some memory. "Would you be mad?"

I furrowed my brow, confused. "Mad about what?"

"Say something happened to you…" Her voice trailed off as she realized how insensitive she had just sounded. She shook her head. "Sorry. Never mind."

"No, ask me. It's all right. We're friends, remember?"

She forced a little smile for me. "I was just wondering. If something – hypothetically – happened to you and a few years later Mark got with someone new, would you be mad?"

"No, I don't think so. Wouldn't really matter though, would it?"

Maureen looked down at the sidewalk, chewing on her lip for a moment. "So you don't believe in, like… angels then. You don't believe in any kind of afterlife?"

I felt sorry for Maureen. So much had been happening, and with her staying at Benny's, no one had really considered what she was going through. Clearly, she had been thinking a lot. And seemingly about death.

I twisted my ring around my finger a few times.

"No, I believe."

She looked back up.

"More then believe," I went on, "I know. People just don't… disappear, right? I mean, sure, their bodies do, but not the people."

I believed that. I had to believe that.

Maureen looked puzzled. "You know? How do you know?"

I sighed. "I don't know what they're called: ghosts, angels, spirits… doesn't matter. All I know is that they're there. Because you know when they're upset with you. When they're happy, or proud, or sad." My voice got softer as I spoke.

I felt Maureen's hand on your shoulder. "You've felt her, then? Shannon?"

"Yeah," I nodded, fighting the lump forming in my throat. "I felt her every time I swallowed one of those damn pills. She was angry. I knew." I looked over at Maureen, her usually pretty face twisted with concern. "And," I went on, "I knew – I felt – how disappointed she was. That night on the stairs. It's like I could see the look on her face – the one she'd always give me when we were kids." I shook my head. "She was so disappointed in me."

"Is that why you stayed?"

Tears I couldn't help spilled down my cheeks and blurred my vision. "No. No, I stayed for him. I couldn't… I just – I stayed for him."

We stopped and got coffee. Maureen paged Collins. No word yet.

"Hey Chicago," Maureen asked, taking a careful sip of her coffee. "Do you think I should get a job? A normal one?"

"What's 'normal'?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Something… you know, normal. Like… a librarian or something."

I laughed.

"What?"

"I'm sorry… but you? A librarian? I don't see it happening."

She laughed, too. "I guess you're right."

"Why do you ask?"

We turned into a little ally, looking as we went. "I don't know. It's something I've been thinking about for a while. It just seems like I should. That's what people do, they have normal jobs and normal lives."

"But would you be happy with a 'normal life'?"

She looked up at me. "What's happiness got to do with it?"

I must have looked surprised, because she sighed, looking behind a garbage can. "Right now, I don't care about being happy… I just want to be safe. I want my friends to be safe. That's normal."

I grabbed her hand. "There's not a job in the world normal enough to protect everyone you love. No white picket fence to keep away things that'll put them in danger. Look at my family – a beautiful mother, a charming father, two well behaved little daughters. Then Mum died in a car crash, Dad's drinking got worse, the sisters took off as fast as they could… then Shannon got sick and I got addicted to pain killers. And tried to kill myself – twice."

We left the ally, tossing our empty cups away.

Maureen nodded, slowly.

"Not enough normal in the world," I murmured.

I lit a cigarette and offered her one. She didn't look at me, but I could see the tears in her eyes.

We looked for Roger for hours.

Maureen cried. She cried for Roger; cried for all the terrible things he said and the terrible things she did. She cried because she was terrified that that fight was the last time she was going to see Roger.

She cried because she loved him so fucking much.

And we walked and walked and walked.

And I played with my ring and thought about stairs and flying and ghosts.

We looked and looked. But we couldn't find him.