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Chapter 30: To No Absolutes

June 17th

11:53 AM

Buffalo

Mimi rolled her duffel bag on its side and sat down on it, then attempted to zip it up one more time. This time the zipper worked, but half the clothing inside it fell out through the large hole in the side.

Mimi groaned and rolled off the bag, deciding reluctantly that she'd have to take her mother up on borrowing suitcases. Somehow her clothes didn't want to fit back into the bags Mark had sent her. It was as if they'd grown since she'd gotten them. Either that or she wasn't as good at folding as Mark.

Embarrassing, she thought, to have a guy be better at house work than she was.

She'd made arrangements to stay with Collins and Aimee until she worked things out with Roger. Mark knew, but she'd asked him not to tell Roger.

"Packing going okay?" her mother asked, sticking her head in.

Mimi looked up sheepishly.

"Umm. . .not exactly."

Her mother laughed.

"What seems to be the trouble?"

"My bag doesn't like my stuff." Mimi pointed to the jumbled mess on the floor. "It keeps spitting it back out at me."

"You know, you never did know how to fold laundry. . .maybe it's time I taught you. God knows I should have. . .and so much more. . .I guess it's too late for that now, isn't it?"

Mimi smiled sadly.

"Yeah. . .I guess it is. But you can still teach me to fold laundry."

They spent the next half hour folding things into the duffel bag which, despite both their best efforts, still wouldn't hold everything. Finally they conceded to using two extra boxes as well.

"So I guess that's it then," Mimi said distantly, surveying their work.

Her mother nodded.

"You sure you'll be okay going back this soon?"

Mimi shrugged.

"I don't know. But I know I have to try. I know. . .that I have to at least settle things with Roger. I miss him but sometimes I think that too much has happened between us. And I still don't know. . .if he's as upset as Collins says he is, he might not even be willing to talk to me. But I have to try. Or else I'll never know."

"And if you can't work things out?"

Mimi sighed.

"Then I guess I'll have to find something else. I really can't think about that yet. . .because if I do. . ." she trailed off and shrugged again.

"Well you're always welcome back here if you need a place to stay."

Mimi shook her head.

"I know. And thank you. But. . .it's time for me to face this by myself. I've done enough denying."

She stared out the window for a moment, then shook herself.

"I'm ready to go."

~~~**~~~

1:54 PM

The Loft

Roger paced back and forth across the living room, his heart racing. The atmosphere in the loft was nothing short of stifling and Roger was drenched in sweat and exhausted already but somehow he couldn't sit still.

Mark had left nearly an hour ago for the post office to find out whether or not he'd gotten the grant. Roger kept telling himself that things would work out but he couldn't shake the feeling of foreboding that he'd woken up with in the middle of the night.

Roger jumped at the sound of Mark's key scraping in the lock. He grabbed his guitar case and sat down hard on the couch, pretending he'd been there all along. He wasn't sure why, but he didn't want Mark to know how much of a mess he was lately.

Mark entered, carrying a thick brown envelope. Roger looked at him out of the corner of his eye, pretending to play the guitar and hitting more wrong notes than right ones. Mark just stopped and stared at him for a moment, then sighed and went into the kitchen, dropping the envelope on the counter. He rummaged through the closets for a moment then pulled out a large bottle of Absolut and poured himself a shot.

"Where'd that come from?" Roger asked sharply. "I thought you got rid of all the booze."

Mark shook his head.

"Nah. Just the beer. This was too good to throw out. So I just hid it from you. Besides, how am I supposed to stay sane?"

Roger was on his feet in an instant.

"Give me some."

Mark shook his head firmly.

"Nope. Sorry."

"Mark what the hell is wrong with you today?"

Mark sighed, then steeled himself.

"Roger. . .I'm through with this."

"What?" Roger asked, surprised, the anxiety in his chest multiplying ten fold.

"I'm through putting up with your shit. I've given you everything I can. It's time for you to take care of yourself now. You're on your own."

"What?" Roger repeated.

Mark looked Roger straight in the face, his eyes set with an angry certainty that was altogether unfamiliar to Roger.

"I got the grant. I'm going to Syracuse. You're on your own."

Roger just stared at him in shock.

"But. . .but. . .you can't!"

"Roger, I am. It's as simple as that. And you're not going to talk me out of it."

Mark turned and walked toward his bedroom.

"Where are you going?" Roger asked loudly.

"To call Aimee. She'll be happy for me. God knows, I could use a little support right now."

Roger rushed after Mark, grabbing him forcefully by the shoulder and forcing him to turn around.

"I knew you'd do this!" Roger shouted.

"Do what?"

"Leave me! Everyone fucking leaves me. You wonder why I am the way I am? Maybe because everyone always leaves me! How can you expect me to trust anyone when they always hurt me? I don't want to care anymore! It hurts too much."

"Roger, no one has ever left you. You shut everyone out."

"I do not!" Roger shouted, tears stinging his eyes.

"Yes, Roger, you do. And all I can say to you is that until you can learn to care about other people as much as you care about yourself, you'll be alone. I can't help you anymore. Not if you're going to be like this. I don't want this to come between us but if you don't give me a choice well then. . ." Mark trailed off.

Roger let go of Mark, shoving him hard.

"I do care about other people. I fucking care too much."

"You only care about what effect other people will have on you. Think about it, Roger. Have you thought one moment about what's best for anyone else? Did you think about it April when she wanted to clean up her life? Did you think about it when Mimi told you she needed your help? Are you thinking about it now? Roger, you have a good heart but you need to learn to use it."

Roger stopped cold, his entire body trembling as the realization hit him. Still, he couldn't bring himself to admit it.

Mark turned back, looking at Roger angrily.

"You know what?" he said harshly, "I can't deal with this. I'm going out."

Mark turned and left.

Roger slid down into a sitting position his back against the wall. He covered his face with his hands, crying silently.

"I don't want to care anymore," he whispered to himself. "I can't."

But he knew deep down that he didn't mean it. Couldn't mean it. Roger stood up and went into his bedroom to lie down, his entire body aching with loneliness.

A picture of him and Mimi sitting on the dresser caught Roger's eye.

He picked it up gently and studied her face, fresh tears wetting his cheeks.

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