Paintbrushes in the Closet
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the original characters, but Carmen, James, and their families are mine! Also, story is rated R for scenes containing fights and discrimination.
Part 6: (Of Candy)
This is one and half months after Expectations and Propositions. James is in for a huge surprise.
********************************
Carmen stepped gingerly into the hot water streaming from the shower head. After all the filming done yesterday, most of it on the streets, she felt grimy, in a way. Her hair soaked quickly and it became a thick mass of brown locks plastered to her back. Sighing, she lathered up her body in soap and let the water wash it away. A noise caught her attention and she peeked around the curtain.
It was only Mark coming in for the morning routine of teeth brushing and getting rid of the night's effects on the body. Thinking nothing more of it, she went back to washing. Her fiancé's actions were amplified by the ceramic shower walls. Suddenly, a hand covered her eyes and another covered her mouth. Feeling another body pressed against hers, she realized that she wasn't alone in the shower anymore.
"Shh." A familiar male voice tickled her ear. The hand over her mouth removed itself and ran down her waist, feeling every curve.
Laughing softly, Carmen turned around to face him, "Mark. You little creep."
He gave her a mischievous smile and leaned in to kiss her. The heat from his body was absorbed by hers as they locked lips.
A loud knock on the apartment's front door stopped them.
"Damn." Muttered Mark, turning to shut off the water.
"No, wait. Maybe they'll go away."
However, this was not going to be the case. As the knocking continued they both grabbed towels and ran to get dressed. The male filmmaker was the first done and before he exited the bedroom, Candy grabbed his arm.
"Tonight?"
"Oh yeah." He ran to answer the door. James stood there, dirtied pieces of paper in his right hand. "James! How nice of you to drop by."
"Oh, I'm detecting sarcasm. What'd I do wrong?"
"You interrupted a beautiful thing, my friend."
"Assuming I'm interpreting that correctly, I'm sorry."
"Sure you are...." It came out in an angered tone of voice, but its owner's smile betrayed it.
"Well lad, aren't you gonna invite me in? I have something for you guys." James waved the papers like a fan against the August heat waves.
"What?"
At this point, Carmen emerged from the bedroom, wearing Mark's red and blue striped shirt, his trademark outfit. She recognized what her neighbor was holding, and crossed her arms smugly, "Tampering with the mail is a federal offense Jimmy."
"All right lass! God, I must've come at a really bad time!" Stepping around Mark, he sent a letter flying towards Carmen with a flick of his wrist, "Miss Keller."
Turning back around, he sent another letter to Mark by the same means, "Mr. Cohen."
Groaning, the male filmmaker sat down on the couch, "It's from my mother."
Candy turned her letter over and over a few times before asking, "How old are these?"
"Dunno. The damn postal service is slow as hell around here."
"Hmm." She said to herself, and ripped open the letter.
"Dear Mark, this is your mother. Just wanted to let your know that we're always thinking of you. Cindy and the kids send their love again, and the kids want you to send them a picture. Marky, you really should visit us, your nephew and nieces have never seen you! You're their only uncle and the lord knows their father isn't around anymore. Much love, Your Mother." Mark concluded, and he refolded the letter.
"You've never seen your nieces and nephew?" Asked Carmen, confusion written her face.
"Nope. I want to, but I just never can seem to get back to Scars Dale. What's your letter say?"
"It says - Oh my!" Digging into the envelope with her hand, she pulled out a long gold necklace chain. On the end of the chain, her interfaith family's symbol was attached. A gold star of David hung there with a golden cross fused to it.
James stared it, "Woah. What's that?"
Laughing, she wiped away a tear and explained, "It was mine when I was a little girl. My mom used to wear the star and my dad wore the cross. When I was born, they had the symbols melted to each other. Kind of a way to let me embrace every faith, you know?"
"Why are you getting it back now?" The Scotsman asked.
"I don't know, maybe the letter says something." Her eyes fell upon the lined white paper and she began reading, "Dear Carmen, many greetings from Michigan! How's life in New York? It's been awfully lonely without our little Carmania around - "
"Carmania?" James raised an eyebrow.
"It's my Jewish name. My mother found it in a book of exotic names or something. I think it means 'Vineyard of the Lord' in Hebrew."
"You get two names? That's not fair..."
"Most Jews have two names. They're for special ceremonies." Chimed in Mark.
"What's yours?"
"Maluch. It means 'King'."
Carmen looked at both of them before continuing with the letter, "Your father and I think that this Mark Cohen sounds like a nice boy, but your father still wants to meet him before you get married. Personally, I think you've always had good judgment and I trust you and him. Please call us again and give us more information as it develops. I've also enclosed your old necklace. Well, you're probably wondering why at this point. There's two reasons. A is that I want you to wear it at the wedding and B is that I want you to give it to your first child to wear. Love always, your Mother and Father."
Quietness filled the room as Mark and Carmen looked at each other, uncertainly. In all the times they had talked, the subject of children had never come up. Even though she had kept it a secret from Mark, Carmen had had a pregnancy scare about a month after they'd first slept together. Somebody up there still liked her though, and nothing came of that missed period.
She was about to speak when he read her thoughts, "Let's talk about it tonight."
"Sure." Came her whispered response.
Sensing a need to break the tension, James opened his letter, "How about I read mine now?"
"That'd be good."
But he didn't read it right away. For a few moments there was silence before James made a choking noise, "Oh my dear god."
"What is it?"
"My parents are coming for a visit in a month!"
"I thought they lived in Scotland."
"That's my sister... oh shit..."
"Now what?" Asked Mark.
"This letter is a month old, they're gonna be here tomorrow!"
Carmen sighed, "What's so bad about your parents coming?"
Standing up, James walked over to his female friend and placed both hands on her shoulders like a minister, "Oh my little lassie, you've always had it easy. You don't have parents that despised the fact that you loved to paint, or hated you because you left the homeland." He put his face right in front of hers and lowered his voice to a nearly inaudible whisper, "There's one other thing that they hate. They HATE gay people!!!"
The last sentence came out in a scream, causing Carmen to fall backwards, off the sofa. Mark picked her up, "Damnit James!"
"I'm sorry. It's just that, my parents don't know about my so called 'sexual preferences' yet."
"You never told them?"
"Would you have?"
Mark nodded, Touché."
"This is the worst thing that could possibly happen!"
Carmen grabbed his shoulder, "Is there anything we can do?"
"Create a diversion? I have to make them think I'm living their version of a 'normal life' and maybe they'll go away."
"How are we supposted to do that?" Questioned Mark, skeptical, but hopeful.
Putting a finger to his lips, the Scotsman managed to squeak out, "A female."
"What?" Exclaimed Carmen and Mark together.
"I need to get someone to play my girlfriend. Just as a sorta... sorta... well, I forget the word, but - "
"Pacifier?" Carmen suggested.
"Exactly!" James looked at Carmen and an idea hit him, "Carmen?"
She caught the look in his eyes and began to back up, hands in front of her, "No way!"
"Please?"
"Jimmy, it wouldn't work. It'd end up like one of those old TV show episodes."
"How so?"
"Well, we'd pretend, but the performance would be see-through and your parents would somehow catch Mark and I in bed together, thus leading to an embarrassing scene that would end with everyone hugging and singing a theme song."
"Okay Carmen! Thank you so much!" Shouted James, slamming his fists into the couch cushions.
"Maybe you should just tell them. Get it over with, ya know?"
"No, no Mark I don't know."
Glancing at her watch, the female filmmaker jumped up, "We're late!"
"For what?"
"Our daily trip to the Life Cafe. What else?"
"Oh, give me a minute before you go, okay?"
James took a little while to compose himself, and the group headed out to that most infamous of all diners, the Life Cafe.
*****************************************
"Collins!" James yelled happily, embracing his lover. When all the initial greetings subsided, they moved to their favorite table to sit, eat, drink, and be merry.
"For tomorrow, we may all be dead!" Announced Maureen, lifting her glass of soda, it was too early for alcohol, in a toast like fashion.
Mimi rubbed her stomach, "Aqui, that's true."
"Point taken and noted."
Roger wrapped his arms around his wife, "You okay?"
"Si," Then, thinking better on it, "Pues... estoy enfermo en la manana."
Having learned some Spanish, Roger responded with a sympathetic, "Pobrecita."
"This is so touching! I think I'm gonna throw up." Maureen made a gagging noise.
Mark joked, "I thought you did that after every meal anyway."
A chorus of "uh-ohs" and a fake drum roll came from the others gathered at the table. However, the actress merely laughed and stated that it wasn't her who did that. The tension, now sufficiently smoothed over, left the room.
"Mimi, what are you guys gonna name the baby?" Inquired Joanne.
"If it's a girl, Maria, a boy, Michael."
"I thought your real name was Maria."
"No, it's Lucia. I like Mimi better and that's what my mama calls me too."
*****************************************************
While that conversation went on at that end of the table, Collins and James were having their own.
"What are saying? Your parents are coming and I can't see you?
"They want to see me having some sort of normal lifestyle and you - "
"Oh, I'm not normal enough for you?"
"Collins, it's not that! You're perfect! My parents just donna see being gay as normal." The accent in his voice was returning, becoming thicker with each passing moment.
"Christ, James! We're in New York! Here, you can be whatever the hell you wanna be!"
"Not with my parents!"
Suddenly, the Philosopher got quiet, "You're scared of them, aren't you?"
"I've been scared my whole damn life."
"You know, sometime you have to grow the fuck up."
This comment raised many eyebrows, Collins usually wasn't prone to using such language on a regular basis.
"I am grown up, but I'd prefer to avoid confrontation. You don't know them!"
"You don't know yourself! I never had any problems like this from Angel! He was proud to be who he was!"
"Angel is dead! He's dead and he's never coming back! You have to get over it sometime, Tom!"
Collins clenched his fist. He wanted to hit James so badly it was harder than hell to resist the urge. Picking up his coat, he flung it over his arm and walked toward the door. Before exiting, he called back, "When you figure out who you are, then maybe you can call me!"
James collapsed into a chair, his hands covering his face. He gave a short sniff of sadness and began to massage his temples. Carmen moved to grab his arm, but he pulled away.
"Don't touch me."
"But Jimmy I - "
"I said, don't touch me! Everyone, just leave me alone!" His eyes were angry and red, beginning to fill with tears. Ashamed of himself, he ran out the back way of the Cafe.
***********************************************
An upset female filmmaker crept back into her apartment.
"He still won't talk to anyone?"
"I knocked for ten minutes straight. He's in there, he's alive, but he's not answering the door."
"Carmen?"
"Yeah?"
"James isn't the type that would commit suicide, is he?"
"I don't think so. I don't think he would have enough guts to go through with it."
"That's good. I'm not interested in finding another body."
"April?"
He nodded, remembering how he had told that story to her a few days prior to this.
"Jimmy usually bounces back after a good nights rest. Maybe the whole thing will clear up tomorrow."
"I doubt that."
"Mark, we need to have our own talk."
"About the... umm... children issue, right?"
She stared at the ground, obviously not sure how to begin, "Well, what do you want?"
"I've kinda always wanted a big family. Lotsa little kids!"
Candy looked like she might start crying herself, "Oh no."
"What's wrong? You can't have children?"
"I don't want any. I could never see myself as a mother."
"Not even with me as the father?"
"No. I'm sorry, Mark."
"Carmen, you'd be the perfect mom! I mean, you always smile at all the kids around here, you're more than excited over Mimi's baby! What's wrong?"
"I'm scared."
"That's a given."
"I'm scared of not raising a child right."
"No one knows how to be parent right off the bat! You have to learn it! Plus, we have instincts to help, and you've got me. I ain't gonna be the deadbeat dad my father was and my brother-in- law is."
He pulled her into his arms for a reassuring hug.
"Okay, but if we do have any kids, we're not having them until we're married."
"I'll agree to that. You know what Carmen?"
"What?"
"I'm not alone anymore."
************************* (The Next Day) ******************************
James felt like he was having a hangover. The loud knock that had hit his front door at this ungodly hour had pulled him from his sleep. Throwing on some clothes, he ended up tripping over one of his easels.
"It's 4:00 am in the morning! This had better be good!" He yelled angrily in that sleepy tone of voice.
Rubbing his eyes painfully, he pulled open the door. The people on the other side took a minute to come into focus, but when they did, James stood up straight.
"Mom! Dad!"
**********************
James's parents demanded a tour of New York from their son. He took them to all his favorite haunts, but the most he got out of his parents was an occasional,
"It's nice," or, "Okay."
Pretty quickly, it was a little past noon and James' mother asked, "Isn't that NYU?"
"Yes."
"Didn't you go there for some kind of class or something?"
"Yes mother, artistic study and art history."
"Damn waste of time if you ask me." Grumbled his father.
"Thanks dad." James whispered under his breath.
"What?"
"Nothing sir."
His mother spoke up next, "James, who is that man over there? He's staring at you like he knows you."
James looked, and recognized Collins, standing on the other side of the road, watching him. The artist had forgotten that this was one of the days that the philosopher lectured at NYU.
"He's looking at him like he likes him. Must be one of those damn homosexuals." Retorted the father.
"Dad, don't - "
"Don't what?"
"Please, just don't - "
"Spit it out! I don't have time for your stuttering! That's what we sent you to that teacher to get rid of."
"Don't say that about him." His voice caught in his throat and came out scared. He was suddenly a little five year old again. A slap stinging his cheek as he desperatley tried to pronounce words to his father's satisfaction, and not being able to do it.
"Why? Those people are the cause of every problem in our society! They've all got AIDS and they aren't normal!"
"Then I'm not normal." Came James' voice, now defiant and unafraid. Blood was boiling.
"Huh?" Asked his mother.
The next sequence of events wasn't planned. Perhaps it happened because James still loved Collins, or maybe he wanted to prove he wasn't scared anymore.
"I'm gay."
For the first time, the father was speechless. But the clenching of fists and a look of pure anger in his eyes replaced his confusion.
"Repeat that." His voice was deadly calm.
"I'm gay."
"I didn't raise any faggots!"
"Yes you did. You raised me and I'm gay. You couldn't possibly understand, you're too damn narrow-minded - "
His father's fist smashed the left side of his face. Connecting squarely with James' eye. Jimmy hit the ground hard, breaking his nose and splitting his lip besides. Standing over him, the dad looked at his son in disgust.
"It's been too long since you were disciplined."
Glancing hopefully over at his mother, the son found that she was doing what she'd always done when her husband had beat the children. Staying quiet and not looking. Suddenly, a pair of strong arms picked him up from behind.
"Collins?"
"Yeah, it's me."
Collins propped James up against a newspaper dispenser. He glanced around for a cop, but remembered that New Yorkers too often look the other way.
"Mr. Wallace, this is against the law."
"Like you people have morals."
"I'm not looking for a fight. Please, just go."
"Hell no! That is my son and I own him!"
"He's over 21, he's his own person now. Now, I'll ask you again, please leave. There's no need to fight."
The father didn't listen, he talked with his hands again. This sent Tom to the ground, holding his stomach in pain. Wiping the blood from his nose, James punched his father hard in the face, stomach, and rib cage. All the years of beating that had been delivered to the son were returning to the father. James beat relentlessly upon that man until he sank to all fours, bleeding from a million different cuts.
Collins grabbed his boyfriend and pulled him back, "That's enough. Stop."
Looking down at his father, James whispered, "Leave. Go back to wherever the hell it was you came from. I never want to see you again." Spitting contemptuously on the ground, the philosopher and the artist walked away.
****************************************
Sitting on hospital beds, the two men faced each other.
"Is my eye turning black?" Asked James, touching lightly around his bruising eye.
"Yeah. Wow James, you're parents are really bad."
"Told you."
"What do you want, an apology?" Laughed Collins.
"Sure, and a kiss."
They leaned forward and pressed their lips together before James pulled back in pain, "Ow!"
"Your lip still hurt?"
"Not as much as my nose or my eye."
"You screamed like a baby when they set that. I could hear you all the way in here."
"Ha ha. It hurt."
"So, are we friends again?"
"We're not dating anymore?" Asked Jimmy, astonished.
"I didn't think you wanted to."
"Of course I do! I'm sorry for everything I said, but I thought had no choice."
"You did, it just lead to this."
Laughter broke out in the small hospital room.
"Well, this is gonna be sappy, but I'm sorry too."
"You're right, I liked you better when you were mad."
"Hmm. You ready to go?"
"Yeah, I'll be okay. Ugly, but okay."
With that, they left and headed for home.
************************************************
(Author's note: Please review! Yes, Mimi's real name is Lucia. In the La Boheme opera, that's what it was. For all you new RENT fans out there, just a little tidbit. I've had too many people email me and ask how I know that, well, it's right in the original. Keep a lookout for PART 7!)
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the original characters, but Carmen, James, and their families are mine! Also, story is rated R for scenes containing fights and discrimination.
Part 6: (Of Candy)
This is one and half months after Expectations and Propositions. James is in for a huge surprise.
********************************
Carmen stepped gingerly into the hot water streaming from the shower head. After all the filming done yesterday, most of it on the streets, she felt grimy, in a way. Her hair soaked quickly and it became a thick mass of brown locks plastered to her back. Sighing, she lathered up her body in soap and let the water wash it away. A noise caught her attention and she peeked around the curtain.
It was only Mark coming in for the morning routine of teeth brushing and getting rid of the night's effects on the body. Thinking nothing more of it, she went back to washing. Her fiancé's actions were amplified by the ceramic shower walls. Suddenly, a hand covered her eyes and another covered her mouth. Feeling another body pressed against hers, she realized that she wasn't alone in the shower anymore.
"Shh." A familiar male voice tickled her ear. The hand over her mouth removed itself and ran down her waist, feeling every curve.
Laughing softly, Carmen turned around to face him, "Mark. You little creep."
He gave her a mischievous smile and leaned in to kiss her. The heat from his body was absorbed by hers as they locked lips.
A loud knock on the apartment's front door stopped them.
"Damn." Muttered Mark, turning to shut off the water.
"No, wait. Maybe they'll go away."
However, this was not going to be the case. As the knocking continued they both grabbed towels and ran to get dressed. The male filmmaker was the first done and before he exited the bedroom, Candy grabbed his arm.
"Tonight?"
"Oh yeah." He ran to answer the door. James stood there, dirtied pieces of paper in his right hand. "James! How nice of you to drop by."
"Oh, I'm detecting sarcasm. What'd I do wrong?"
"You interrupted a beautiful thing, my friend."
"Assuming I'm interpreting that correctly, I'm sorry."
"Sure you are...." It came out in an angered tone of voice, but its owner's smile betrayed it.
"Well lad, aren't you gonna invite me in? I have something for you guys." James waved the papers like a fan against the August heat waves.
"What?"
At this point, Carmen emerged from the bedroom, wearing Mark's red and blue striped shirt, his trademark outfit. She recognized what her neighbor was holding, and crossed her arms smugly, "Tampering with the mail is a federal offense Jimmy."
"All right lass! God, I must've come at a really bad time!" Stepping around Mark, he sent a letter flying towards Carmen with a flick of his wrist, "Miss Keller."
Turning back around, he sent another letter to Mark by the same means, "Mr. Cohen."
Groaning, the male filmmaker sat down on the couch, "It's from my mother."
Candy turned her letter over and over a few times before asking, "How old are these?"
"Dunno. The damn postal service is slow as hell around here."
"Hmm." She said to herself, and ripped open the letter.
"Dear Mark, this is your mother. Just wanted to let your know that we're always thinking of you. Cindy and the kids send their love again, and the kids want you to send them a picture. Marky, you really should visit us, your nephew and nieces have never seen you! You're their only uncle and the lord knows their father isn't around anymore. Much love, Your Mother." Mark concluded, and he refolded the letter.
"You've never seen your nieces and nephew?" Asked Carmen, confusion written her face.
"Nope. I want to, but I just never can seem to get back to Scars Dale. What's your letter say?"
"It says - Oh my!" Digging into the envelope with her hand, she pulled out a long gold necklace chain. On the end of the chain, her interfaith family's symbol was attached. A gold star of David hung there with a golden cross fused to it.
James stared it, "Woah. What's that?"
Laughing, she wiped away a tear and explained, "It was mine when I was a little girl. My mom used to wear the star and my dad wore the cross. When I was born, they had the symbols melted to each other. Kind of a way to let me embrace every faith, you know?"
"Why are you getting it back now?" The Scotsman asked.
"I don't know, maybe the letter says something." Her eyes fell upon the lined white paper and she began reading, "Dear Carmen, many greetings from Michigan! How's life in New York? It's been awfully lonely without our little Carmania around - "
"Carmania?" James raised an eyebrow.
"It's my Jewish name. My mother found it in a book of exotic names or something. I think it means 'Vineyard of the Lord' in Hebrew."
"You get two names? That's not fair..."
"Most Jews have two names. They're for special ceremonies." Chimed in Mark.
"What's yours?"
"Maluch. It means 'King'."
Carmen looked at both of them before continuing with the letter, "Your father and I think that this Mark Cohen sounds like a nice boy, but your father still wants to meet him before you get married. Personally, I think you've always had good judgment and I trust you and him. Please call us again and give us more information as it develops. I've also enclosed your old necklace. Well, you're probably wondering why at this point. There's two reasons. A is that I want you to wear it at the wedding and B is that I want you to give it to your first child to wear. Love always, your Mother and Father."
Quietness filled the room as Mark and Carmen looked at each other, uncertainly. In all the times they had talked, the subject of children had never come up. Even though she had kept it a secret from Mark, Carmen had had a pregnancy scare about a month after they'd first slept together. Somebody up there still liked her though, and nothing came of that missed period.
She was about to speak when he read her thoughts, "Let's talk about it tonight."
"Sure." Came her whispered response.
Sensing a need to break the tension, James opened his letter, "How about I read mine now?"
"That'd be good."
But he didn't read it right away. For a few moments there was silence before James made a choking noise, "Oh my dear god."
"What is it?"
"My parents are coming for a visit in a month!"
"I thought they lived in Scotland."
"That's my sister... oh shit..."
"Now what?" Asked Mark.
"This letter is a month old, they're gonna be here tomorrow!"
Carmen sighed, "What's so bad about your parents coming?"
Standing up, James walked over to his female friend and placed both hands on her shoulders like a minister, "Oh my little lassie, you've always had it easy. You don't have parents that despised the fact that you loved to paint, or hated you because you left the homeland." He put his face right in front of hers and lowered his voice to a nearly inaudible whisper, "There's one other thing that they hate. They HATE gay people!!!"
The last sentence came out in a scream, causing Carmen to fall backwards, off the sofa. Mark picked her up, "Damnit James!"
"I'm sorry. It's just that, my parents don't know about my so called 'sexual preferences' yet."
"You never told them?"
"Would you have?"
Mark nodded, Touché."
"This is the worst thing that could possibly happen!"
Carmen grabbed his shoulder, "Is there anything we can do?"
"Create a diversion? I have to make them think I'm living their version of a 'normal life' and maybe they'll go away."
"How are we supposted to do that?" Questioned Mark, skeptical, but hopeful.
Putting a finger to his lips, the Scotsman managed to squeak out, "A female."
"What?" Exclaimed Carmen and Mark together.
"I need to get someone to play my girlfriend. Just as a sorta... sorta... well, I forget the word, but - "
"Pacifier?" Carmen suggested.
"Exactly!" James looked at Carmen and an idea hit him, "Carmen?"
She caught the look in his eyes and began to back up, hands in front of her, "No way!"
"Please?"
"Jimmy, it wouldn't work. It'd end up like one of those old TV show episodes."
"How so?"
"Well, we'd pretend, but the performance would be see-through and your parents would somehow catch Mark and I in bed together, thus leading to an embarrassing scene that would end with everyone hugging and singing a theme song."
"Okay Carmen! Thank you so much!" Shouted James, slamming his fists into the couch cushions.
"Maybe you should just tell them. Get it over with, ya know?"
"No, no Mark I don't know."
Glancing at her watch, the female filmmaker jumped up, "We're late!"
"For what?"
"Our daily trip to the Life Cafe. What else?"
"Oh, give me a minute before you go, okay?"
James took a little while to compose himself, and the group headed out to that most infamous of all diners, the Life Cafe.
*****************************************
"Collins!" James yelled happily, embracing his lover. When all the initial greetings subsided, they moved to their favorite table to sit, eat, drink, and be merry.
"For tomorrow, we may all be dead!" Announced Maureen, lifting her glass of soda, it was too early for alcohol, in a toast like fashion.
Mimi rubbed her stomach, "Aqui, that's true."
"Point taken and noted."
Roger wrapped his arms around his wife, "You okay?"
"Si," Then, thinking better on it, "Pues... estoy enfermo en la manana."
Having learned some Spanish, Roger responded with a sympathetic, "Pobrecita."
"This is so touching! I think I'm gonna throw up." Maureen made a gagging noise.
Mark joked, "I thought you did that after every meal anyway."
A chorus of "uh-ohs" and a fake drum roll came from the others gathered at the table. However, the actress merely laughed and stated that it wasn't her who did that. The tension, now sufficiently smoothed over, left the room.
"Mimi, what are you guys gonna name the baby?" Inquired Joanne.
"If it's a girl, Maria, a boy, Michael."
"I thought your real name was Maria."
"No, it's Lucia. I like Mimi better and that's what my mama calls me too."
*****************************************************
While that conversation went on at that end of the table, Collins and James were having their own.
"What are saying? Your parents are coming and I can't see you?
"They want to see me having some sort of normal lifestyle and you - "
"Oh, I'm not normal enough for you?"
"Collins, it's not that! You're perfect! My parents just donna see being gay as normal." The accent in his voice was returning, becoming thicker with each passing moment.
"Christ, James! We're in New York! Here, you can be whatever the hell you wanna be!"
"Not with my parents!"
Suddenly, the Philosopher got quiet, "You're scared of them, aren't you?"
"I've been scared my whole damn life."
"You know, sometime you have to grow the fuck up."
This comment raised many eyebrows, Collins usually wasn't prone to using such language on a regular basis.
"I am grown up, but I'd prefer to avoid confrontation. You don't know them!"
"You don't know yourself! I never had any problems like this from Angel! He was proud to be who he was!"
"Angel is dead! He's dead and he's never coming back! You have to get over it sometime, Tom!"
Collins clenched his fist. He wanted to hit James so badly it was harder than hell to resist the urge. Picking up his coat, he flung it over his arm and walked toward the door. Before exiting, he called back, "When you figure out who you are, then maybe you can call me!"
James collapsed into a chair, his hands covering his face. He gave a short sniff of sadness and began to massage his temples. Carmen moved to grab his arm, but he pulled away.
"Don't touch me."
"But Jimmy I - "
"I said, don't touch me! Everyone, just leave me alone!" His eyes were angry and red, beginning to fill with tears. Ashamed of himself, he ran out the back way of the Cafe.
***********************************************
An upset female filmmaker crept back into her apartment.
"He still won't talk to anyone?"
"I knocked for ten minutes straight. He's in there, he's alive, but he's not answering the door."
"Carmen?"
"Yeah?"
"James isn't the type that would commit suicide, is he?"
"I don't think so. I don't think he would have enough guts to go through with it."
"That's good. I'm not interested in finding another body."
"April?"
He nodded, remembering how he had told that story to her a few days prior to this.
"Jimmy usually bounces back after a good nights rest. Maybe the whole thing will clear up tomorrow."
"I doubt that."
"Mark, we need to have our own talk."
"About the... umm... children issue, right?"
She stared at the ground, obviously not sure how to begin, "Well, what do you want?"
"I've kinda always wanted a big family. Lotsa little kids!"
Candy looked like she might start crying herself, "Oh no."
"What's wrong? You can't have children?"
"I don't want any. I could never see myself as a mother."
"Not even with me as the father?"
"No. I'm sorry, Mark."
"Carmen, you'd be the perfect mom! I mean, you always smile at all the kids around here, you're more than excited over Mimi's baby! What's wrong?"
"I'm scared."
"That's a given."
"I'm scared of not raising a child right."
"No one knows how to be parent right off the bat! You have to learn it! Plus, we have instincts to help, and you've got me. I ain't gonna be the deadbeat dad my father was and my brother-in- law is."
He pulled her into his arms for a reassuring hug.
"Okay, but if we do have any kids, we're not having them until we're married."
"I'll agree to that. You know what Carmen?"
"What?"
"I'm not alone anymore."
************************* (The Next Day) ******************************
James felt like he was having a hangover. The loud knock that had hit his front door at this ungodly hour had pulled him from his sleep. Throwing on some clothes, he ended up tripping over one of his easels.
"It's 4:00 am in the morning! This had better be good!" He yelled angrily in that sleepy tone of voice.
Rubbing his eyes painfully, he pulled open the door. The people on the other side took a minute to come into focus, but when they did, James stood up straight.
"Mom! Dad!"
**********************
James's parents demanded a tour of New York from their son. He took them to all his favorite haunts, but the most he got out of his parents was an occasional,
"It's nice," or, "Okay."
Pretty quickly, it was a little past noon and James' mother asked, "Isn't that NYU?"
"Yes."
"Didn't you go there for some kind of class or something?"
"Yes mother, artistic study and art history."
"Damn waste of time if you ask me." Grumbled his father.
"Thanks dad." James whispered under his breath.
"What?"
"Nothing sir."
His mother spoke up next, "James, who is that man over there? He's staring at you like he knows you."
James looked, and recognized Collins, standing on the other side of the road, watching him. The artist had forgotten that this was one of the days that the philosopher lectured at NYU.
"He's looking at him like he likes him. Must be one of those damn homosexuals." Retorted the father.
"Dad, don't - "
"Don't what?"
"Please, just don't - "
"Spit it out! I don't have time for your stuttering! That's what we sent you to that teacher to get rid of."
"Don't say that about him." His voice caught in his throat and came out scared. He was suddenly a little five year old again. A slap stinging his cheek as he desperatley tried to pronounce words to his father's satisfaction, and not being able to do it.
"Why? Those people are the cause of every problem in our society! They've all got AIDS and they aren't normal!"
"Then I'm not normal." Came James' voice, now defiant and unafraid. Blood was boiling.
"Huh?" Asked his mother.
The next sequence of events wasn't planned. Perhaps it happened because James still loved Collins, or maybe he wanted to prove he wasn't scared anymore.
"I'm gay."
For the first time, the father was speechless. But the clenching of fists and a look of pure anger in his eyes replaced his confusion.
"Repeat that." His voice was deadly calm.
"I'm gay."
"I didn't raise any faggots!"
"Yes you did. You raised me and I'm gay. You couldn't possibly understand, you're too damn narrow-minded - "
His father's fist smashed the left side of his face. Connecting squarely with James' eye. Jimmy hit the ground hard, breaking his nose and splitting his lip besides. Standing over him, the dad looked at his son in disgust.
"It's been too long since you were disciplined."
Glancing hopefully over at his mother, the son found that she was doing what she'd always done when her husband had beat the children. Staying quiet and not looking. Suddenly, a pair of strong arms picked him up from behind.
"Collins?"
"Yeah, it's me."
Collins propped James up against a newspaper dispenser. He glanced around for a cop, but remembered that New Yorkers too often look the other way.
"Mr. Wallace, this is against the law."
"Like you people have morals."
"I'm not looking for a fight. Please, just go."
"Hell no! That is my son and I own him!"
"He's over 21, he's his own person now. Now, I'll ask you again, please leave. There's no need to fight."
The father didn't listen, he talked with his hands again. This sent Tom to the ground, holding his stomach in pain. Wiping the blood from his nose, James punched his father hard in the face, stomach, and rib cage. All the years of beating that had been delivered to the son were returning to the father. James beat relentlessly upon that man until he sank to all fours, bleeding from a million different cuts.
Collins grabbed his boyfriend and pulled him back, "That's enough. Stop."
Looking down at his father, James whispered, "Leave. Go back to wherever the hell it was you came from. I never want to see you again." Spitting contemptuously on the ground, the philosopher and the artist walked away.
****************************************
Sitting on hospital beds, the two men faced each other.
"Is my eye turning black?" Asked James, touching lightly around his bruising eye.
"Yeah. Wow James, you're parents are really bad."
"Told you."
"What do you want, an apology?" Laughed Collins.
"Sure, and a kiss."
They leaned forward and pressed their lips together before James pulled back in pain, "Ow!"
"Your lip still hurt?"
"Not as much as my nose or my eye."
"You screamed like a baby when they set that. I could hear you all the way in here."
"Ha ha. It hurt."
"So, are we friends again?"
"We're not dating anymore?" Asked Jimmy, astonished.
"I didn't think you wanted to."
"Of course I do! I'm sorry for everything I said, but I thought had no choice."
"You did, it just lead to this."
Laughter broke out in the small hospital room.
"Well, this is gonna be sappy, but I'm sorry too."
"You're right, I liked you better when you were mad."
"Hmm. You ready to go?"
"Yeah, I'll be okay. Ugly, but okay."
With that, they left and headed for home.
************************************************
(Author's note: Please review! Yes, Mimi's real name is Lucia. In the La Boheme opera, that's what it was. For all you new RENT fans out there, just a little tidbit. I've had too many people email me and ask how I know that, well, it's right in the original. Keep a lookout for PART 7!)