Author's note: Thanks so much for the review, guys! They were so nice! My show opened the other day, and closing night is tomorrow. We've been doing great and it's a lot of fun. Enjoy & review, please!
CHAPTER 29
Mark wandered through the small café quickly until he found Maureen sitting at a table, a mug of coffee in front of her. He sat down and smiled.
"Hey," he greeted her breathlessly. She smiled back.
"Hi."
"You haven't been waiting here long, have you?" he asked, taking in the scene around him.
She shook her head. "Oh, no. I just got here a little while ago," she reassured him as she motioned towards her still full mug of coffee.
Mark and Maureen had been meeting frequently in the month since her show ended. They would get together for small dates, going out for coffee or ice cream. After talking and spending a few hours together, they'd both go back to their homes, usually with plans for another date. Both always made sure they just remained friends, though, not wanting to take any steps further until they were sure that they wanted the same thing.
"Good. How have you been?"
"Alright. You?" she asked, taking a sip of her coffee.
"I'm pretty good," he nodded. "How's your day been?"
She shrugged and blew gently on her coffee to cool it down. "Working, auditioning. Not finding much luck," she laughed quietly. "I tell you, it's harder than it looks."
"I can imagine," Mark smiled, fiddling with a napkin on the table.
Maureen cocked her head at him. "Aren't you going to get anything to drink?" she asked, looking over towards the counter.
He shook his head.
"Ugh, now I feel stupid," she laughed. "Why did you want to come here, then?"
"I didn't. You did," he grinned.
Maureen rolled her eyes jokingly. "Fine, I'll give you that. Hey, how's Collins?"
"Oh, he's pretty good. He's getting ready to go back to school. So's April."
"Yeah. Teacher's college, right?"
Mark nodded. "She wants to be an English and history teacher, which is pretty cool."
They sat in silence for the next couple minutes. They hadn't run out of things to talk to, they never did. Sometimes, though, they just preferred to sit in each other's company for a little while.
"Hey, did I tell you about how we fixed the loft?" Mark asked, breaking the silence.
"Mark, you could never 'fix' that hell hole," she laughed. "What did you do?"
"We painted a bunch of walls and fixed that broken window. Oh! And we even got an air conditioner!"
"Seriously?" she asked in disbelief.
He nodded. "It's great. It looks a lot better. Sometimes you still have to wait a couple minutes for the tap water to turn clear, but other than that it's alright."
"That's fun. Can I see it?"
Mark nodded again. "Sure. Collins will probably be there, too."
She smiled excitedly. "Okay! Can we go after I finish?"
"Yup," he replied, glancing down at his watch.
"Alright, I'm finished," she told him, pushing her mug forward.
He peered into it and laughed. "It's still half full."
"Ooh, Mark's an optimist," she laughed, covering the top of the mug with her hand and moving it away from Mark. "I don't know what you're talking about. I finished that," she grinned. "Besides, Collins is more important than my coffee."
"Let's go," he smiled, standing up. She jumped up and they walked quickly to the loft, Mark trying to catch up with Maureen, who was obviously very excited to see Collins again. When they got to the loft, they raced up the stairs, Maureen bolting up long before Mark.
"You lock the door now, too?" he heard her call from the top of the stairs. He remembered back when she and Roger lived with them, they never locked the doors because someone was always bound to be home.
"Only when nobody's home," he replied breathlessly, finally reaching the top of the stairs and grimacing.
She frowned. "Oh. Another time, I guess."
"Well, do you still want to see the new and improved loft?" he asked.
"Duh, Mark," she giggled, shoving him gently. "That's why we're here."
"Okay then," he laughed, opening the door for her.
She stepped in and smiled. "Wow."
"You like it?"
"Yeah. Everything looks so much cleaner and… cleaner."
Mark laughed and shut the door behind him. He grabbed her hand and tugged her over so that they were standing in front of the air conditioner lodged in one of the windows.
"How do you like this?" he asked, turned a random knob. Cold air came out and she laughed.
"Oh my God! Everything is so different. It looks great, Mark."
"Thanks," he smiled, walking into the kitchen. "Want anything to eat or drink?"
She shook her head and followed him, leaning onto the island. "No thanks."
"You sure?" he asked, leaning onto it, too.
"Yeah. That coffee did me in," she laughed, tracing patterns over the wooden top.
"So…" Mark started. "What's on tap for the rest of the day?"
"Another audition," she grimaced. "Good times."
"Good luck."
She gasped melodramatically and looked over at him. "You're not supposed to wish an actor good luck, Mark! You tell them to break a leg!"
"I never understood that," he laughed.
"Take it back!"
"No!"
"Please?" she pouted. "Don't you want me to get the part?"
"What part is it?"
She beamed. "Sally Simpson in Tommy!"
"Tommy?" he asked. "As in 'Tommy can you hear me?'"
"No," she replied sarcastically, "The other Tommy."
He laughed and nudged her in the side. "Fine, I take it back, but only if I can come see you in it when you get the part."
"'When I get the part?'" she asked skeptically. "Now you've jinxed me. You hate me," she pretended to sob onto his shoulder.
"Hardly," he laughed. "Okay, okay. Break a leg and I hope you don't get the part."
She smiled and looked up at him. "That's better."
"Good," he replied quietly, gazing back at her. He slowly moved in and kissed her gently, placing a hand on her cheek. She was receptive at first but pulled away quickly.
"I have to go," she stammered, looking down at the ground. "See you later."
Mark watched her leave the loft and immediately felt like an asshole. He knew very well what Maureen was like, and for all he knew she was seeing somebody and now he was a party to her cheating. He sighed and flopped onto the couch and flipped the television on, trying to get his mind off Maureen.
Meanwhile, Maureen was walking down the street. She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. She didn't know what to feel. Confusion rushed over her – she didn't want to hurt him again. She knew that he wouldn't be able to trust her anymore, but at the same time she wanted to badly to tell him how she felt – extremely elated that he just kissed her.
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Roger plopped down on the couch next to April, who had school supplies scattered over the coffee table.
"You really went all out, didn't you?" he laughed. "Did you really need all this stuff?"
She shrugged and turned her attention to Roger, cuddling up against him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she rested her head on his.
"Tired?" he asked.
She nodded. "Yes, but I start school soon!"
"You're looking forward to it?" he asked, frowning. "That's gross. Nobody likes school, April."
"I don't. I'm just glad to be getting ready for a real job," she told him.
"Speaking of jobs…" Roger started. He picked up April's left hand and examined it. "I owe you one wedding ring."
"No you don't—"
He spoke louder. "Yes I do. And I promise I'll buy you the nicest one I can find. I just need a job first."
"Roger…"
"Shh," he laughed, covering her mouth with his hand. "I just want you to be happy."
She shook him off and swung her legs over his lap. "Just don't stress yourself out or anything."
"I won't," he promised her. "I just want my girl to be happy."
She smiled. "Are you going to call the Well Hungarians? You should play with them again."
"Maybe. We'll see. Right now, though, I just want to be with you."
"Apparently being clean makes you so much sweeter," she giggled. He faked a frown and nudged her gently.
"Not nice, Mrs. Davis."
She gasped and covered her mouth. "I'm so old! I'm a 'Mrs.'"
"Not old, just cute," he laughed, kissing her. The phone interrupted them and April pulled away, raising an eyebrow. She reached onto the side table and picked it up.
"Hello?"
"April, this is your mother."
"Hi, mom." She stifled a laugh at Roger, who made a face.
"Your father and I want to take you and that boy to dinner."
"Oh, I'm fine mom. How about you? Oh really, that's great–"
"April, this isn't time for jokes."
She rolled her eyes and linked hands with Roger. "Sorry. When?"
"It will have to be in a couple weeks, we're booked."
"Booked?" she repeated, surprised. "Thanks. No time for your own daughter?"
"You're not our only priority, April. We have jobs – steady jobs, not part-time jobs – and engagements that can't be moved."
"The yacht club?" she asked testily.
"April Maria Cecilia Francesca Hunter–"
"Davis," April interrupted. "April Davis. None of that Maria Cecilia crap anymore. Are we going to set a date or not?"
"Some time next month is the soonest we can have it."
"That's fine. We'll call you."
April slammed the phone down several times on the phone dock before hanging up. She flopped onto Roger and frowned.
"I hate my parents."
Roger wrapped his arms around April. "Forget about them."
"They want to have dinner with us," she told him in a mock-snooty voice. "They have to pencil us in sometime next month because they're way too busy with business meetings and cocktail parties at the country club."
"How did to such uptight, anal people have such a normal daughter?" he laughed.
She shrugged. "That's what happens when you're raised by an au-pair. I swear, I only saw my parents like, four times while I was growing up."
Roger wrinkled his nose and kissed April. "It's late. We should go to bed."
She nodded and stood up, pulling Roger up with her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him.
"Ignore them," he whispered. "They're idiots."
April sighed and turned around, walking to their bedroom. Roger picked her up and hoisted her over his shoulder, laughing, and let the bedroom door swing shut behind them.
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