Copyright: Your beloved Bohemians belong to the late great Jonathan Larson. The Bohemian Offspring belong to moi. Hope you like it … enjoy the happiness, because it won't last for long. I still gotta explore Mark's mental instability. ; Þ
February 12, 1997. 8 pm
Roger entered the apartment to find Mimi sitting on the couch, arms crossed. "Hey," he said, kissing her on the lips.
Instead of returning the kiss, she turned away. "I want you to get out," she said coolly.
Roger was puzzled. He knew she wasn't using anymore, not since Christmas Eve. The Narcotics Anonymous and outpatient counseling had helped so much. So why was she being so cold? "What's wrong?" he asked, wrapping an arm around her.
Mimi tore his arm off her. Her eyes turned cold. "Get out now!" She stood up and pointed to the door. "Your guitar's on the table."
Roger stood up also. He tried to control his temper, but Mimi's bizarre behavior was making that impossible. "What the hell did I do?"
Mimi ignored his question. She frantically searched the apartment for any of Roger's belongings. He followed her as she tossed his things onto the living room floor. He grabbed her wrist and forced her to look him in the eye.
"What did I do?" he repeated.
Mimi was silent for a minute. Finally, she blurted it out: "I'm pregnant." Roger was stunned. "You're – what?!"
"Yes, that's right," Mimi said. "I'm pregnant. Knocked up. With child. Bread in the oven. Whatever you want to call it."
"Why didn't you tell me?" He tried to steer Mimi towards the couch.
"Why didn't I tell you?!" Mimi exploded. "Maybe it's because I know how you'd handle something like this. You're not very good at it. How can I expect you to handle me being pregnant if you can't even handle anything bad happening to your friends? I know you, Roger. Every time something bad happens you run away." Roger opened his mouth to protest, but Mimi cut him off. "So I'm making it easier for you. You don't have to worry about a thing because I'm letting you go." She sunk onto the couch. Roger stood, staring at her. Mimi's eyes softened. "I'm keeping this baby, Roger. I know – I know the risks, but I just can't have an abortion." She turned his eyes to him. "Yes, you're the father, but you don't have to take any responsibility for it. I can do it myself."
Roger sat down next to his
girlfriend and put a protective arm around her. "No," he whispered. "You
don't have to do it yourself. I'm
here." He let Mimi bury her head into
his chest. "Why? Why would you think I couldn't handle
it?" He didn't want to wait for an
answer. How many lives have I fucked
up when I was on drugs? I can't ruin
another person's life, especially not Mimi's.
Mimi allowed herself to be comforted by Roger. She tried to force back the tears, but finally she just let them flow, staining her cheek and Roger's sweatshirt.
* * *
February 14, 1997. 1:09 pm.
"So, Pookie, how do I look?"
Joanne glanced up from the deposition she had been working on to see her performance artist girlfriend decked out in a red spandex suit, red cardboard heart with a white I love you lighting up, black heels, red heart earrings, and red heart frames. "Well, for a valentine, you look – delicious."
Maureen smiled and leaned in for a kiss. "Pookie, you know I'm delish," she purred. "Should we practice my performance?"
Maureen was giving a performance tonight. She claimed it was for Valentine's Day, but all of her friends knew that she just wanted an excuse to steal the limelight. This diva needs her stage … She was paying homage to all the great love stories of the past with a collection of monologues from Romeo and Juliet, Casa Blanca, Breakfast at Tiffany's, etc. The performance would be no different than any she had done, except for the fact that Mimi and Roger had an announcement to make and Mark wouldn't be there. It was nothing against her; she already knew that. The filmmaker hadn't left his room in over a month, and there was a good chance he wasn't eating, either. She wished he could be there, if only to tease her about her Valentine's Day getup.
Joanne shrugged. "I think you did fine, Baby," she assured her. "If you want to practice …"
Maureen stomped her foot. "I did not do fine!" she screamed. "I keep messing up." She pouted in Joanne's direction. "Please, Pookie?"
Joanne rolled her eyes and stood up. "Alright. For the twentieth time today …"
Maureen was growing impatient. "You should know what I'm like before a performance," she admonished. "I'm …"
"… a bitch," Joanne finished. Maureen playfully cuffed her ear. "A sexy bitch if I might add." She grew serious. "Calm down, Hon. You have absolutely nothing to worry about."
Maureen knew her girlfriend wasn't kidding. Okay, so she was saying it to shut her up – but she meant every word. She had never known true love until she met Joanne. Sure, they fought, but only because they were so similar yet so different. Even when they bickered, they knew that it was a matter of days before they found themselves back in each other's arms. They hadn't fought since Halloween, which was over three months ago. Roger had started a betting pool; the gang was betting how long it took until they fought again.
"Honeybear, have you ever thought about having children?"
Joanne's question jolted her back to the present. "What?!"
She repeated the question. "Have you ever wanted to have kids?"
Maureen sat down on the love seat, snuggling her face into Joanne's chest. "When I was younger, I guess." She turned Joanne's face toward her own. "Why?"
"It was something I'd planned on doing, even before I knew my sexuality," Joanne explained. "I'm almost thirty-three years old. I had wanted to wait until I was financially stable and was involved in a steady, committed relationship."
Maureen's thoughts turned to Collins' daughter, Angel. The three-month-old had quickly won over their hearts, and not only because her full head of black hair and her large amber eyes resembled her namesake.
"It's little Angel, isn't it?" Maureen prodded. Joanne nodded her head. "She's a cutie."
"I think we should start a family."
Maureen wrapped her arms around her girlfriend. They stayed there, unmoving, while Maureen processed what her girlfriend was telling her. For the first time in their entire relationship, Maureen and Joanne were in complete agreement.
* * *
February 14, 1997. 11:34 pm.
Collins placed the infant carrier on the chair next to him and strapped it in place. He gingerly wrapped the yellow blanket around the tiny creature's body, then turned to the others. "Well? Are we ready to start a riot?"
Roger grinned. "I say we start a mass Alphabet City orgy."
Mimi chastised her boyfriend for his lewd ideas. "Roger, behave!" She smiled at the sleeping Angel. "Are you sure she should be here?" she asked. "It's much too noisy to sleep."
"She's a heavy sleeper," Collins explained. He turned to Maureen, who had just entered the Life Café with Joanne, Benny, and Alison. "Good show tonight, Mo."
Maureen pouted. "Just 'good'?"
"No, it was great," Alison assured her.
After Angel's death, Benny had gradually ingratiated himself back into their lives. They realized that Alison wasn't as terrible as they had made her out to be. It wasn't her fault she was born into a wealthy family. She wasn't snooty – she was just shy. Per a conversation with Maureen, they had learned that Alison had been against the Cyber Arts Studio from the get-go; she simply didn't have the courage to say anything at first. It was hard to believe that a few months ago, Muffy was an enemy. Now, she was one of the Family. In fact, their son, Benjii, was Angel's playmate. Benjamin Coffin IV was exactly five days younger than Angel Musetta Collins.
A high-pitched wail came from the carrier. Collins lifted his daughter out and gently rocked her back and forth in his arms. He remembered the first time he held her. His heart had melted. He had arrived in Poughkeepsie early morning, and it had taken him nearly the entire day to locate Tenny's motel. It wasn't that difficult to retrieve the infant. All it took was $1000 a la A-N-G-E-L and a bottle of champagne to assure Tenny and his patrons a Happy New Year. He had cradled her in his arms, and watched her cry.
"Shh…shhh..," he cooed. He found himself singing to her. "Live in my house – I'll be your shelter. Just pay me back – with one thousand kisses. Be my lover – and I'll cover you." Amazingly enough, Angel calmed down when he sang to her. I'll Cover You was her favorite lullaby – at the very least, it was the only song that soothed her when she got upset. He sang it to her now, in the Life Café.
Roger stood up and tapped on his glass. "Ahem!" he shouted, clearing his throat. "I have an announcement to make."
Everyone leaned in closer. Roger looked serious, so they knew he wasn't about to take Mark's place as designated riot starter. When he had everyone's attention, he continued.
"Mimi and I are having a baby."
Maureen almost dropped her tea and Collins almost dropped Angel.
"You-you're w-what?" Maureen sputtered. "Having a-a baby?"
Mimi nodded. "I'm pregnant."
"I think we figured that already," Benny reminded her. His comment resulted in a bonk on the head from his wife.
"Congratulations, Mimi," Alison said. "If there's anything you need help with, let me know."
Collins gave her a disapproving look. That girl tried way too hard to be nice. He almost wished she would act like herself – they weren't going to bite her head off.
The next ten minutes were spent oohing and aahing over Angel and congratulating Mimi and Roger. Collins couldn't believe it. Three babies in one year. This was definitely not something the Bohemians had envisioned last Christmas. He was to get a bigger surprise, however, when Joanne spoke.
"Maureen and I are planning to start a family of our own."
* * *
March 10, 1997. 12:03 pm.
Mimi was working on her calculus homework when she heard the knock on the door. She opened the door to reveal a young woman, not much older than her, holding the hand of a small boy. The boy had brown eyes and curly blond hair. One hand grasped a blue Pokemon wheelie-bag. He was squirming, trying to get out of the woman's grasp.
"May I help you?" Mimi asked the woman.
"Yes. Is Roger Davis in?"
"No, he's rehearsing with his band," Mimi answered. She opened the door wider and gestured towards inside. "Won't you come in?"
The woman and the boy entered the apartment. Mimi invited the woman to sit on the couch. "Why do you need to see Roger?" Mimi asked suspiciously.
"Is it alright with you if my boy plays in the kitchen? I don't want him to hear this."
Mimi covered the table with newspaper and set the boy up with paper and crayons. The boy turned to his mother to protest.
"No, you stay here and color. Mommy will talk to you in a minute, Roger dear."
When they were back on the couch, Mimi turned to the woman. "His name is Roger?"
"Yes, and Roger Davis is his father." The woman extended her hand. "I'm Delores."
"Mimi. Roger never told me…"
"Why would he?" Delores' eyes hardened. "Do you know what that jerk did when I told him I was pregnant? He threw me an amplifier [or any small piece of equipment if an amplifier is too heavy]. Told me to sell it and pay for an abortion." Her bitter laugh made Mimi nervous. "You wanna know something? The damn piece of shit was broken! That bastard! I should have known he didn't love me. He only came crawling to me when he and that bitch April had a fight. I should have known."
Mimi interrupted Delores' angry rant. "Roger's changed since then."
Delores looked skeptically at Mimi. "A bastard like that never changes."
"Well, for starters, he's off drugs." She didn't think Roger's HIV status was any business of this woman's. Well, it is her business – who knows if she got infected? Mimi reminded herself. It's not your place to tell her. "And – and we are having a baby."
"Wait a few months," Delores warned. "It'll finally hit him and he will leave you."
Mimi shook her head. "You don't understand."
Delores jumped up. "I understand perfectly!" She leaned down until her face was level with Mimi's. "Don't say I didn't warn you," she half-sang.
Mimi eased herself off the couch. "If you hate Roger so much, why did you come to see him?" Mimi asked.
"I got a job offer in L.A. and I'm not taking Roger with me."
"You-you're abandoning your son?" Mimi shook her head in disbelief.
"Oh? You think you're boyfriend's any better?"
Great! What's Roger going to say when he hears this? "If you wait around, Roger will be home in a few hours."
"No, I'd best be going," Delores said. "If Roger has any questions, he can call the Marriott in Westwood. I should be checked in by 4 pm California time." She went into the kitchen and hugged her son. The boy grabbed onto his mother's shirt. "Mommy, don't go!" the boy shouted. Delores tore away. "I'll call you tonight, ok Sweetie?" She and Mimi both knew that was a lie. "You stay here with Mimi and be a good boy. You're gonna see your daddy soon." With that, Delores opened the door to the apartment, never to be seen again.
Mimi pulled a chair up to the table. "What are you drawing?" she asked.
"My dog." Roger grabbed a brown crayon and shaded in his picture.
"That's a good dog. Do you like dogs, Roger?"
The little boy nodded. "I had a dog once. His name was Rusty." He looked down to the floor.
"Was it a nice dog?" Mimi asked gently.
Roger nodded. "My mommy gave him away. But I'm gonna grow up and get a dog of my own and nobody will take him away."
Mimi asked the boy's age. He told her that he turned six in April.
* * *
March 10, 1997. 2 pm.
"Mimi, I'm home!" Roger called as he entered the apartment. He placed his guitar by the coffee table. "Mimi!"
Mimi entered the room and planted a kiss on his mouth. "Shhh!" she whispered. "You'll wake him up."
"What? Did you have the baby already?"
Mimi pointed to the small figure curled up on the couch with a brown and white rag dog. She grabbed Roger's wrist and led him into the kitchen. He absent-mindedly picked up a piece of construction paper with an amateur drawing of a dog. In the bottom left corner was a child's scrawl. Roger. The letters were all uppercase, except for the e. And the R's were backwards.
"His – his name – is – Roger?" Roger sputtered.
"Roger, you're his father," Mimi informed him.
Roger sat down. "Oh my god!" He ran his fingers through his hair. "What was her name? Donna? Delores?"
"Delores," Mimi told him, reaching for his hand. "She's heading towards L.A. now. I called Joanne. She said that before you do anything, get a paternity test. You might not be the father."
"You saw him when he was awake?"
Mimi locked her fingers with his. "He has your eyes," she confessed. She heard a stir from the other room. "I think he just woke up. Go on, talk to him," she urged.
Roger cautiously stepped into the living room. "Hey, Roger, buddy."
