~~~**~~~

Chapter 33: A Little Friendly Business

July 4th

11:45 AM

Santa Fe

Roger closed the door softly behind him, hoping not to disturb Mimi who had been trying to get back to sleep after he'd left. She rolled over and sat up anyway, as though she's somehow sensed his approach.

"Um. . .hi," Roger said, suddenly feeling shy.

"Hey." Her voice was soft, drowsy but still full of concern. "I thought you were going out for a walk."

"I was."

"What happened?"

"I. . .got lonely?"

"Roger. . ." she smiled sadly, "C'mere."

Roger stripped down to his boxers, pulled the drapes shut and crawled into bed beside her. He lay with his back to her, clutching a pillow to his chest. He wasn't sure why but he'd been feeling worse than ever since he'd gotten back together with Mimi. As hard as he tried to make everything up to her, she still woke up every night, fragile body wracked by nightmares. And with every new thing he tried, the ache of failure in his chest grew more intense.

"Hey." Mimi said softly, wrapping her arms around him from behind and resting her chin on his shoulder. "You okay?"

"I don't know. . ." Roger trailed off, trying not to cry again.

"What's wrong?"

Roger sighed and rolled out of bed. He walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him, then sat on the closed toilet lid. There was so much they had to work out still and he couldn't bring himself to. He heard Mimi pacing in the other room which only served to make him feel worse. Finally, she came over and knocked on the door.

"Yeah?"

"Roger. . .please talk to me. I don't want to push you but. . .at least let me know you're okay."

"What, you mean you're afraid I'll try to do what you did? I'm not that stupid, Mimi."

He wasn't sure why he'd just said that, and it only made him more miserable than he'd been before.

"Roger, I don't want to fight."

She sounded tired, sad. Roger stood up and went back into the other room. Mimi was standing, staring at the closed drapes as though she could see something through them. Roger went up and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Talk." He said reluctantly.

"Roger. . .God, I don't even know where to begin. I mean, where do we go from here? Do I go back to the loft, or should I be looking for a place of my own? I don't even have a job anymore."

She paused, and Roger started to say something, but she cut him off again.

"Are we still engaged?"

Roger dropped his arms and walked away from her, sitting down on the side of the bed.

"I don't. . ."

"You don't want to be." Mimi finished for him, her face falling slightly.

"Mimi. . ."

"I understand," she said flatly.

"Wait," Roger interrupted.

"What?"

"It's not that I don't want to be with you and maybe I *do* want to marry you. I just. . .don't think we're ready for that kind of commitment so soon again after. . .everything."

"So you want to start over?"

She sighed deeply.

"I guess that's only fair. I'm just. . .so sick of all this."

Roger stood up and went back over to her, wrapping his arms around her.

"I love you. It'll be okay. . ."

She looked up at him, her dark brown eyes filled with uncertainty.

"I hope so."

~~~**~~~

9:22 PM

The Loft

"Look, fireworks," Mark said dryly, pointing to the little blobs of static filling the television screen.

"Um, I think it's just a bad signal," Joanne corrected from her seat on the couch.

Maureen snorted.

"Wonderful sense of humor, Jo."

Joanne glared at her, which made Benny burst into a fit of obnoxious laughter. Mark sighed and grabbed a bag of potato chips, throwing them on the table. Collins and Aimee were both still absent, despite their promise to be there, and Mark had gotten nothing more than angry hang ups when he'd attempted to call Roger in Santa Fe. He was leaving for Syracuse in one week and he still had yet to discuss it with the two people he loved most. On top of it all, the guests that were there seemed capable only of irritating one another. Mark grabbed the still partially full bottle of Absolut and poured himself a fourth shot. He'd hope d to distract himself from his troubles but instead the alcohol was only making him more depressed.

"So Mark," Benny said obnoxiously, "I heard you're finally gonna make some money."

Mark shrugged.

"Maybe. Who'd you hear it from?"

Benny grinned.

"Oh that pretty little girlfriend of yours. What's her name, Annie or something."

"Aimee," Mark muttered, his blood suddenly going cold. "Why were you talking to her?"

"Oh, just some friendly. . .business."

"Benny. . ." Maureen said warningly.

"What? It's not my fault he doesn't keep better tabs on his girlfriend."

"Benny, don't do this again," Joanne snapped, "Why can't you just keep your nose out of other people's business?"

Benny just shrugged.

"Guys. . ." Mark broke in, but his voice lacked conviction.

"Because he's got a stick the size of a tree shoved up his ass all the time," Maureen said meanly. "It' s too bad. It would be a hell of a nice ass if it wasn't for that."

"Maureen!" Joanne chided.

"Party pooper," Maureen pouted.

Mark poured himself yet another shot, wincing as the alcohol burned the back of his throat.

"Come on buys, just a bit of innocent fun," Benny smirked.

"Oh come on, really Benny," Maureen shot back, "What happened, did you latest bitch dump you or something?"

"Nah, I always make sure I do the dumping first."

"Why don't you go take a dump," Maureen retorted lamely.

"Both of you stop or shut the hell up!" Joanne shouted suddenly.

Maureen glared at her and opened her mouth to say something but the phone rang before she could get any sound out.

Mark practically dove for the receiver.

"Hello?" he answered breathlessly.

"Mark?"

His heart sped up at the sound of Aimee's voice.

"Yeah. Where are you?"

"Mark, I need you to come here. Quickly."

"What happened?"

"Mark, just get here. Tom is sick. Really sick."

~~~**~~~

Dun dun dun….