He closed the bedroom door behind him and lost little time getting to the point. "Mark, who's that girl?"
I sighed. "Benny, I'm sorry I didn't run this by you first, but it was late, and you were asleep, and I didn't think you'd mind."
"I suppose you're right," he agreed. "I don't blame you, really. She's a real looker. Where did you find her?"
What?? He thought--what?? "Oh, Benny, it's not like that. Nothing happened with us."
My roommate gave me an odd look. "It didn't? Then why's she here?"
How was I supposed to explain this? I had a feeling that Mimi wouldn't want me to repeat what she'd told me last night. "She's in a lot of trouble, Benny," I tried to explain. "I told her she could stay here for awhile."
"Oh, Mark." Benny shook his head. "You're such a sucker."
"What do you mean?" I demanded, as indignantly as I could.
"I mean you're always trying to save the world!" he exclaimed. "First it was a bird with a broken wing. Now it's a girl. Tomorrow, you'll have turned the entire apartment into a homeless shelter."
"Benny, it's just for a little while," I tried to convince him. "I'll help her find a job, and somewhere to live. She just needs to get back on her feet."
"All right," he gave in. "I'll give you kids a week."
"Your generosity is astounding," I told him sarcastically, rolling my eyes.
"I mean it, Mark." He grabbed his wallet off of the dresser and shoved it into his back pocket. "One week."
I knew him better than that. Benny talked tough, but when you got down to it, the guy had a good heart. I'd have convinced him by the time the week was over. "All right," I agreed. "One week."
I didn't tell Mimi about Benny's deadline. It would have upset her, and made her feel guilty, and what good would that have done?
It was truly magical to see Mimi come out of her shell as the days went by. Once she became more at ease around me, and Benny too, to an extent, she changed dramatically from the shy, terrified girl I'd found on 10th street to an outgoing, outrageous, often flirtatious young woman with an incredible love of life. She laughed more. She began to tease me about the ever-present camera in my hand. She stole all my boxer shorts while I was in the shower, and draped them over the ceiling fan in the living room.
As I suspected, by the end of the week, Mimi had charmed Benny into allowing her to stay as long as she wanted. She was still shyer around him, and didn't tease him as mercilessly as she did me. But Benny was only human, and he couldn't resist her smiles or the way she'd pout her lips and plead any more than I could.
It was Benny who found Mimi a job, after weeks of searching. She and I hadn't been having much luck, since she was under eighteen and didn't have a social security card. Finally, after all the options had been exhausted, I asked Benny if his family couldn't help her out. He talked to his father, and the next day, Mimi was hired as a waitress at a trendy restaurant that the Coffins had recently acquired.
"I don't know how I can thank you," she gushed when Benny told her the good news. "You guys have been nicer to me than anyone ever has, and I wish there was some way I could pay you back for this."
"Ah, don't worry about it," Benny shrugged. "No biggie."
"Maybe it's not for you, but it is for me," she insisted, kissing his cheek. "Thank you, Benny."
"And thank you, Mark," she continued, kissing me as well. "You're the sweetest guy I've ever met."
I tried not to show how my heart was pounding, or how hard I was fighting back a goofy smile. It had been ages since a girl had paid that much attention to me, especially not one as beautiful and sweet as Mimi was.
Bad idea, Mark, I lectured myself. Best not to go there in the first place.
All right, yes, it had been a long time since I'd had a girlfriend. Since junior year in college, even. But Mimi wasn't like the girls I'd dated. For one, she was a lot younger. She wouldn't be seventeen until January, while I'd already turned twenty-two. Also, she had already been through so much in her life. She'd had some horrific experiences with men, and she was bound to be at least a little scared of them.
And she trusted me. Since she'd moved in, Mimi and I had developed a warm, comfortable friendship. She teased me about how I ate broccoli, and watched movies with me with her head resting on my shoulder. Some nights, when Benny was out with a girl, she would mix drinks out of the alcohol and fruit juices we had on hand, and the two of us would sit up late in my room, talking about everything and nothing. It was obvious that she thought of me as a good friend, as a brother, even.
The problem was, no one ever falls in love with their brother.
So I tried to ignore how jittery my stomach became when she smiled at me, or how adorable and innocent she looked when I came out into the living room each morning to find her asleep on the couch. That was the one guilty pleasure I allowed myself: stealing opportunities to watch her sleep. She had a habit of kicking her blankets off in her sleep, and if it had been a particularly cold night, I would creep up next to her and replace the covers.
It was just an act of brotherly concern, I told myself sternly. I couldn't have a guest catching cold, now, could I?
Mimi usually worked nights, so she and I were home alone during the day while Benny went off to work. Some mornings I'd sneak into the kitchen while she was asleep and cook breakfast, enjoying how she'd stumble into the kitchen within fifteen minutes after I started frying the sausage, her hair rumpled from sleep, looking adorably small in the pajamas I'd lent her. I treasured these times when we were alone, how she would laugh at my jokes even when no one else would, and how she could talk me into doing anything, often things I would never do on my own.
She convinced me to go roller skating with her one afternoon. I protested that I hadn't been since I was a kid, and didn't have the slightest idea how to even stand up on skates. My excuses lasted about five minutes before she wore me down with her pleading brown eyes and vows to love me forever if I went with her. The next thing I knew, we were at the roller rink, with Mimi spinning around in the center of the rink, while I hung on desperately to the ledge on the side, hoping I could make it through without falling down.
"Mark, what are you doing?" she demanded, gliding up to me and making a perfect stop. "You won't have much fun that way."
"I suck at this!" I whined, letting go for a brief moment. My skates began wobbling underneath me, and before I knew it, my feet had shot off in separate directions, and I was sitting flat on my butt before the entire rink.
"Oh, Mark," she giggled.
I tried to glare at her. "You wouldn't be laughing if it happened to you."
"You're right," she agreed, making no attempt to suppress her laughter. "Let me help you up."
She held out her hands to me and somehow managed to hoist me to my feet. How she did it, I had no idea, considering she couldn't have weighed more than ninety pounds. "Come on, Mark, let's see how you skate."
I took another tentative step. Miracle of all miracles, I stayed on my feet. Encouraged, I took another. And promptly fell down again.
"You're not doing it right." She shook her head. "No wonder you keep falling."
"And what is the right way to do it?" I demanded in mock indignation. "Care to demonstrate?"
"Here." She grabbed my hands again and pulled me back up. "You have to concentrate. Why don't you start with your left foot?"
I obediently slid my foot forward. I started to wobble, but Mimi's grip steadied me. "Good, now the right." I took another step. This time I didn't wobble at all. "Mark, that's great! You're doing it!"
"Thanks to you," I insisted. "And I wouldn't call this a success quite yet."
I did fall down several more times that afternoon. But by the time we left, I was able to confidently circle around the rink, hand in hand with Mimi, without touching the wall once. It was hard to tell whether Mimi or I was more proud of me.
"You're amazing," I told her. "Absolutely astounding."
She kissed me, quickly and lightly, but on the lips just the same. "It was nothing. You're just a good pupil." She smiled flirtatiously at me and dashed off, her eyes beckoning me to follow.
Benny still wasn't home when we got back. Either he was working late again, or he was on a date. He usually did the cooking, so I called for a pizza while Mimi set out the plates and napkins, and selected a video out of our very limited library. She was waiting on the couch for me, and promptly assumed the now familiar position of resting her head in my lap. We spent the next hour and a half following the adventures (or misadventures) of Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan, pausing only when the pizza guy arrived.
"So what do you think about that?" Mimi asked abruptly, her mouth still full of pizza.
"Think about what?" I echoed. "And didn't your mother teach you not to talk with your mouth full?"
She stuck out her tongue at me. She looked like a naughty twelve year old when she did that, and I don't know why I found that so adorable. "Think about" she swallowed, "About the movie. Can men and women just be friends?"
Oh, God, this was not a conversation I wanted to have right now. Not with Mimi sitting a few inches away from me, wearing an old shirt of Benny's over a tiny white tank top that left very little to the imagination. I took another hasty mouthful of pizza, hoping for some stupid reason that if she couldn't tell what I was saying, she wouldn't know what I was thinking.
"Oh, I dunno," I mumbled. "Whad you thnk?"
She laughed. "Now who's talking with his mouth full?"
I swallowed. "Fair enough."
"I think it's possible," she continued, nodding at the TV screen. "I mean, we're friends, aren't we?"
There it was. The extent of her feelings for me. And at least I knew before I made an idiot out of myself, I tried to console myself. It helped a little, but not much.
And she was still waiting for a response, wasn't she? "Of course we are," I hastened to assure her. "Good friends."
"God, I love you, Mark," she sighed, throwing her arms around me and giving me a brief squeeze that hurt my ribs almost as much as my heart. "You're going to make some lucky girl very happy."
"Oh, I don't know about that," I protested. "Girls don't usually find me attractive."
"Well, those girls are stupid," she declared recklessly. "With a little work, you'd be really cute."
"Mimi, I don't know--"
"Please?" she begged, fluttering her eyelashes at me. Damn her. She knew just how to get me to do whatever I wanted. "Can I see what you look like without your glasses?"
I gave in and took them off. She examined me carefully, then shook her head. "No, put them back on. They work with the cute, dorky look you have going."
"Mimi, girls don't like cute and dorky," I insisted. "Trust me."
"Mark, really." She shook her head solemnly. "They do. I know what I'm talking about. You're such a sweet guy, and girls can see that. They can tell that you're one of those rare men who cares more about making them happy than making themselves happy."
"Then why do I have so much trouble finding a date?" I whined. "All the girls I've met would rather go out with a complete asshole just because he looks good in jeans and has nice hair."
"You'll find someone someday," she stated firmly. "And you'll both make each other very happy."
I mulled over our conversation for half the night, long after the movie was over and Mimi had fallen asleep on the couch. I'd covered her with a blanket, kissed her forehead, and turned out the light before retiring to my own bed to begin my struggle with insomnia. This was driving me crazy. She'd made it clear that she thought of me only as a friend. Did I want to risk what we already had? Of course I didn't. Then why couldn't I just accept it and move on?
I'd almost fallen asleep when I heard a noise from the living room. I told myself firmly that it was nothing, and turned over to go to sleep. I heard it again. This time I got up, and softly made my way into the living room.
The sound was much clearer now. It sounded like someone crying, and sure enough, when I looked over to the couch, I saw Mimi curled up in a ball, sobbing as if her heart would break.
I approached her cautiously, and when she didn't recoil, sat down next to her on the sofa and lifted her into my arms. I held her tightly against me as she cried, feeling her tears drip onto my shoulder and soak into my shirt. It was so frustrating, seeing her like this and being unable to do anything. I couldn't change what had happened in her past. I couldn't fix everything that was wrong with her. All I could do was sit here and watch her, a helpless witness to her fear and grief.
After awhile, her sobs slackened, and her body went limp against mine. "I'm sorry," she whispered into my chest. "I don't know what happened."
"Oh, honey. Mimi, sweetheart." I didn't know why the endearments were there, they just were.
"It's been over a year," she continued in a shaky voice. "I should be over this by now."
"Mimi, what happened to you was a horrible, traumatic experience." Duh, Mark. I think she already knows that. "What I'm trying to say is that there isn't any set period of time that's going to pass, and then everything will be all right again."
"You're right," she said listlessly. "Nothing will ever be right again."
"Come on, now, I didn't say that," I protested, lifting her up slightly so she was staring into my eyes. "Look at how far you've come since we met. You just need to give yourself time."
She sighed and settled back down against me. "God, you've been so good to me," she sighed. "I love you, Mark."
I bent my head and dropped a kiss on her forehead. "I love you too."