One Week
Part FourAll right, and now for some personal review responses.
RavenNat: Heh, thanks. It just seemed like a Roger appropriate line, being the grump he is (but we still love him anyway). Yeah, and before I named Mark's sister, I went through about five other names, and Julia was the one I had settled on before Lisa. I swear, I must have read it through about 10 times, but I guess I just looked over it. Ah, oh well. Sorry about that.
Kelby: Thanks for commenting, and I love your story by the way. =)
DevDev: Haha, I'm glad I made your day. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it.
Markys gurl: I hope I update enough to keep you sane! Thanks for the compliments. =)
To all my other reviewers from other chapters, thank you so so much for brightening my day by reviewing, and on with the story. Enjoy!
*//
Roger impatiently ran a hand through his already dishelved hair and sighed. Mimi was curled up next to him, blanket pulled up to her chin. She was asleep, although Roger wondered how one person could sleep through this riot. He was currently watching an old lady whacking a very young looking med student with her large purse, using some very animate words that Roger didn't think the elderly were supposed to use. Every so often he would reach down and brush a few strands of hair off Mimi's forehead in boredom. He had handed the paperwork into admit over an hour ago and now felt like screaming at everyone in the room in front of them out of frustration. He hated hospitals, always had, but he hated them more since he found out he was sick. He knew he had a good chance of catching something by just sitting here, but if it meant making Mimi feel better, it was most definitely worth it to him. Mark would probably have his head for it, but since when did he listen to Mark lately? He checked his watch again and groaned. It was already 10 AM, meaning that he had been officially sitting in the ER's waiting room for about two and a half hours. He was seriously considering physically dragging a doctor over to him by now. Just as he made to stand up, Mimi stirred next to him.
"Roger? Where are you going?" she yawned, bringing herself to a sitting position.
"Uh—nowhere. You should really lie back down," he insisted. Mimi shrugged and rested her head against her shoulder, now taking slow, shallow breaths.
"How do you feel?" Roger took her hand in his and kissed it softly.
"Okay. My head isn't killing me, but my stomach is not so great," she frowned. Roger smiled a little. She sounded like such a child sometimes.
"Mimi Marquez?" Roger gripped Mimi around the waist and helped her stand, but the nurse brought over a wheelchair and motioned for her to take a seat. Roger attempted to follow her, but the nurse held out her hand.
"I'm sorry sir, we don't usually allow anyone but family to escort the patient into the exam room," she protested.
"Well what if I said I was her brother? Don't you see the resemblance?" he growled. Mimi wrapped her fingers around his hand and squeezed it gently.
"I want him there," she croaked. The nurse rolled her eyes and continued walking down the hall, Roger trotting along her side.
"Change into these scrubs, and Dr. Carraway will be with you shortly," she huffed. She practically threw the scrubs at Roger and slammed the exam door so forcefully that the blinds rattled. Roger tried to get Mimi to change into the gown, but she had already curled up in a fetal position on the exam bed, using the blanket as a pillow. Roger pulled a chair up next to her and continued holding her hand. He dozed on and off for the next forty five minutes, wondering if he was going to be stuck here all day. He could just imagine Mark worrying himself sick. Hopefully Lisa had some authority over calming him down, but he seriously doubted it. Speaking of Lisa, he couldn't believe that his best friend's kid sister had just shown up on their doorstep, knocked up of for one. He hadn't seen her since she was eleven, and Lisa Cohen was the last person he would have ever thought to become a statistic. This week was just getting better and better.
"Mimi Marquez?" A tall, red headed woman had entered the room, followed by a nurse, who to Roger's relief, was not the same one as before. She held out her hand for Roger to shake. "I'm Doctor Rebecca Carraway and I understand that Mimi hasn't been feeling well?" Roger felt like screaming 'no shit' at her, but decided that he didn't need to piss off the doctor as well. Mimi nodded slowly and propped herself up. The nurse walked over to her and hooked her up to an IV.
"First I need to ask you some general questions about your HIV status…how long since you found out you were infected?" Mimi paused and thought for a few seconds before answering.
"I guess—about 3 years?" she replied. Dr. Carraway noted and made a note on her chart.
"Okay, and are you sexually active right now?" Mimi blushed and Roger coughed slightly, rubbing his nose.
"Yeah—"
"Okay, so I'm assuming that you are the boyfriend then? Have you both been taking precautions or—" Mimi shook her head and Roger agreed.
"I've had HIV for about a year and a half, so no, we really haven't," Roger explained.
"And you both are currently under prescriptions for AZT or any other AIDS related medication?" she added, her eyes darting back and forth on her chart. They both nodded.
"Well that takes care of all the uncomfortable questions," she laughed. Roger attempted a smile, but honestly wasn't feeling like giving much effort.
"Okay, so let's talk symptoms. Mimi, what's been up lately?"
"I've been getting migraines lately. I threw up about four times yesterday, and close to five times this morning—or I guess you could count that as one time all together since I didn't leave the bathroom for an hour," she groaned.
"Anything else?"
"No, just been exhausted lately, which isn't anything new. I've been working late nights at the club," Roger frowned; he hated that place more than anything else. He knew Benny still hung around there and hassled Mimi most nights.
"Sounds like you've been busy. I'm just going to draw some blood and put a rush on the lab results, so hopefully you'll be out of here in less than an hour. I'm also going to order a CBC, lytes, WBC, and a CD4 T-cell count," she added, talking more to the nurse than to Mimi and Roger. "If you need anything, page a nurse, and she'll page me as soon as possible. If not, I'll be back as soon as I can with the lab results," Dr. Caraway left the room, leaving Roger and Mimi in silence.
"That wasn't so bad," Roger said. Mimi patted the bed.
"C'mere," she whispered. "You look worn out. I'm really sorry about all of this Roger," she apologized. Roger climbed into the bed with her and spread out the blanket over the two of them. Mimi flipped over and rested her head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heart.
"Don't be. I want you to feel better," he replied, kissing the top of her head. "You are my heart. Don't forget that, okay?"
"Okay,"
Roger watched the minutes pass by on the clock, which was now heading towards noon.
"Roger?"
"Yep?"
"I'm scared—"
Roger sighed again wrapped his arm around her stomach, silently praying that the rest of his life wouldn't have to be spent in hospitals like this one.
*//
"Where are they?"
"Mark, give it a rest. You know how emergency rooms are. Have you forgotten this is Manhattan you're talking about?" Lisa said. She was now lying flat on the couch, feet in Mark's lap, with an ice pack resting on her forehead. Mark opened his mouth to generate a response but she held her hand up.
"Don't. My head hurts enough already," Mark sighed and closed his eyes. Maybe if he attempted to get some sleep, this would all turn out to be a dream. Unfortunately for him, Collins had just barged through the door.
"Hey Mark, class let out early and I brought food—hey you're back," Collins said, pointing at Lisa. He set the bags of Chinese food down on the coffee table.
"Sure am," Lisa replied, shifting the ice pack slight over her left eye.
"Care to explain?" Collins prodded. He pulled out a container of shrimp lo mein and handed it to Mark. Mark passed it to Lisa instead, who tore into it hungrily. Mark and Collins just sat and stared at her for a good minute.
"I've seriously never seen a girl eat that fast, but hey, whatever works," Collins joked. "I'm Collins, by the way," He stuck out his hand for Lisa to shake, but she was too busy eating her food.
"Lisa," she mumbled through a mouthful of noodles.
"So Lisa, what brings you to this wonderful side of town?" he snorted.
"Let's just pretend that Lisa's my pregnant seventeen year old sister who showed up on my doorstep last night right when you were leaving," Mark answered in a sarcastic tone. Mark added a look of 'I'll explain later' and Collins smirked in agreement.
"That could work," Collins decided not to press the topic any further. When Mark was ready to tell him, he'd tell him. He just silently prayed that Maureen didn't stop by anytime soon, because he knew she'd be all over the subject like a bat out of hell. Lisa placed her empty lo mein container on the table and stood up.
"I think I'm going to take a nap. Just let Roger know that if he comes into the loft bitching about anything, I'm coming after him with a bat in his sleep," she muttered bitterly. Collins mouthed a silent 'wow' to Mark, who could obviously care less from his lack of a response.
"I think I could use one as well. Sorry Collins, looks like you'll be eating by yourself," Mark said. He stalked off to his room and slammed the door.
"I'll just let myself out!" he shouted after them, shaking his head.
*//
"JOANNE!"
"Stop it Maureen, you're acting like a child! You just publicly humiliated me in front of my parents, my partners, and the WHOLE BENEFIT!" Joanne screamed. She slammed down her glass so hard it cracked at the bottom, water cascading out of the cracks.
"Pookie, that was last night—I thought you'd feel better in the morning…Pookie, come back to bed," Maureen pouted. "It was only harmless flirting in front of the punch bowl—" Joanne flung her suitcase, briefcase, and laptop onto the bed.
"That resulted in you scoring his—Chad's---number right in front of me! I'M NOT BLIND MAUREEN, NOR AM I DEAF! I am so sick and tired of your bullshit. I don't know how I put up with it anymore!" she thundered, rummaging through her closet.
"Don't say that—Joanne, where are you going? Hey, wait…don't leave Joanne!" Maureen stalled. In the process of their argument, Joanne had flung various clothes into her suitcase. She had now moved on to business suits and shoes, all while Maureen was watching her, speechless.
"That's right, drama queen! I'm leaving. I'll be at my parent's in Staten Island if you decide to bring anyone else to make out with right in front of me. I'll clean out the rest of my shit sometime next week, not that you care, because oh—since when does Maureen Johnson care about anybody but herself?" Joanne taunted, hauling her items to the front door. Maureen stood in place and frowned. So she had flirted with Chad, an advertising agent, at the punch bowl and he had given her his number. It's not like she was going to hurt the poor guy's feelings by turning it down. Joanne was really overexaggerating. She hadn't humiliated her in front of everyone, and didn't know that Joanne would react this way.
"Pookie, do I get a phone number to call you?"
Slam.
*//
Mimi sat up slowly, clutching her stomach. She was feeling queasy again, and hoped that she wouldn't throw up all over the exam bed and Roger. Roger noticed automatically of course and glanced at her, concern growing deep in his eyes. That boy must have some kind of Mimi radar that kept him intact to all her emotions lately.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine," she responded, a little more grumpier than usual. "She was careful not to add anything else, because she knew it would come out sounding nasty and ungrateful and that was just about the last thing she needed right about now. She was three weeks late, and she had a feeling that even Roger, who was usually oblivious to this sort of thing, had picked up on the signs already. She had watched two of her older sisters go through pregnancies to know the signs well enough, and the nausea in the morning spoke for itself.
"Mimi? Sorry to keep you waiting. I had to wait on your T-cell count," Dr. Carraway said. She had just entered the room with what looked like five or six pages of lab results, plus a few brochures that Mimi couldn't see from where she was sitting. Roger was fully alert now, the concern he had a few minutes before wiped from his eyes.
"Your T cell count is about average for the stage of your HIV—about 350 cells compared to the normal range of 500 to 1000. You've been responding well to the AZT, and we'd like to continue on that treatment and perhaps expose you to other drug cocktails—however something has come to my attention that I'd like to discuss with you," she finished.
Mimi knew what that something was by just looking at the doctor.
"Your blood test results reveal to me that you're currently about five weeks pregnant, meaning that conception occurred sometime roughly around the 26th or 27th of December. Ring any bells?" she laughed.
"Yeah. It was that night…you know," Roger whispered to Mimi.
"I know—" she laughed. It was the night after Christmas, two days after her near death experience. They had both gotten completely wasted on leftover eggnog with Mark, Collins, Maureen, and Joanne, and things led to the bedroom shortly after.
"Wow. This is really, wow?" Roger added.
"I assume then that this isn't a planned pregnancy?" Dr. Carraway asked. Mimi shook her head.
"No, it wasn't," she replied. Roger suddenly took her hand in his and rubbed it softly.
"Okay. Now it's my job to let you know that you do have other options, and I think you know what those are: abortion, adoption, or to parent the baby. Since you're HIV positive, Mimi, this pregnancy puts a greater risk on your body than to normally healthy mothers. If you decide to go through with the pregnancy, you will have to cease your AZT treatment until after the baby is born. The moment after the baby is delivered, your obstetrician will automatically start you back on AZT along with other drug cocktails to boost your T cell level. You can see how this can put you at a greater risk for infection from other diseases that could harm you and your baby. This is why I'm advised to suggest that you do not continue with the pregnancy, but it is ultimately your choice," Dr. Carraway ended her statement and looked between Roger and Mimi for a few seconds.
Roger looked fairly shocked, his piercing blue eyes enlarged underneath his bed head of blonde spikes. Mimi looked a mixture between content and depressed, never a good combination for her.
"Umm, well—I'm sorry to disappoint you, but there is no way I'm terminating this baby," Mimi spoke up. Roger titled his head to glare at Mimi. He hated when she made decisions for the both of them, and this just so happened to be one of those decisions that affected the rest of their lives.
"Mimi, you haven't even thought this through yet!" he shouted. Dr. Carraway raised her eyebrows a little bit, taken aback by his outburst.
"Roger, not now," Mimi hissed.
"Mimi—"
"ROGER! I SAID LATER!" she yelled out, her face flushing under the lights.
"Well, if you are sure about going through with this—" Dr. Carraway started. Roger abruptly cut her off.
"Believe me, we're not!" Roger growled back.
"Roger Davis so help me god if you piss me off one more time—"
"You don't even believe in god—"
"I'm leaving you these brochures along with a referral to another clinic that specifically works with high risk pregnancies and HIV. I just want you to know that there is a large chance that you will pass HIV on to you baby as well—"
"Lady, I get the risks. I'm having this baby," Mimi stated coolly. She grabbed the blanket and sped out of the room, leaving an angry Roger and a puzzled Dr. Carraway behind.
*//
Around 2 PM the pair stormed back into the loft. Mimi sat down on the couch and curled her feet under her. Roger walked over to the kitchen and downed his pills, bringing Mimi's bottle with him.
"Here, take them," he pushed. He held out the glass of water for her, but she shook her head.
"Roger, I can't," she responded quietly.
"Yes, you can. I'm not letting you endanger your life to bring another one into the world," he said. He was desperately trying to keep his temper under control, but he could feel his anger about to blow up. He wasn't really angry with Mimi—he was angry at the whole situation.
"This.Is.Not.Your.Choice," Mimi answered.
"Don't fucking tell me this isn't my choice! It's not like you got pregnant by yourself, I mean, I'm pretty sure I had something to do with it, unless you had Benny step in—" Roger paused when he saw the look on Mimi's face and automatically regretted the words that came out of his mouth. Mimi now had silent tears running down her cheeks. "Mimi—I didn't mean that, Mimi I'm sorry—" he tried. Mimi wouldn't even look at him.
"Get over it, Roger. GET FUCKING OVER IT. I am so TIRED of this constant jealousy you have for Benny. It was in the past! I've accepted it, why can't you?" she screamed. She was now standing on her feet, her finger pointed directly at Roger's chest. "You don't see me sitting here talking about April! I've accepted that too! IT'S ALL IN THE PAST!"
"Don't you dare bring up April! You never knew her!"
"Don't you TELL ME WHO I SHOULD OR SHOULDN'T BRING UP!"
Mark and Lisa opened their bedroom doors at the exact same time, each looking at the other with increasing apprehension. Collins had arrived at the exact same time, using his key to open the loft door. He stared at Mark from the doorway, wondering what in the hell was going on. Mimi and Roger fought all the time, but he had never seen anything this bad. Maureen, who had a knack for appearing out of thin air anytime drama ensued, was now perching over Collin's shoulder, still wearing a look of disgust from her fight with Joanne earlier in the day.
"APRIL IS DEAD! SHE KILLED HERSELF BECAUSE OF ME! How do you think I live with myself, Mimi? How am I supposed to bring a child into this world when I'm so fucked up already!" he yelled. Lisa swore she saw the pictures rattle on the wall.
"What the hell is he talking about?" Mark whispered to her. Lisa shrugged and shushed him.
"I wanna see this," she whined.
"You're so dramatic," he hissed.
"It's like a damn good soap opera, except you don't have to pay for cable," she giggled back. Mark rolled his eyes.
"You're impossible to live with—"
"I haven't even been here a day," she grinned, focusing her eyes back on Mimi and Roger.
"Roger, that's not true! This child will love you, because I love you! I LOVE YOU, Roger. I don't understand why you won't believe me," she cried, fresh tears flooding her cheeks. She looked up and noticed that even Roger had a few tears welling up in his eyes.
"I don't want you to die, Mimi," he whispered. He had now collapsed on the floor and was rocking himself back and forth. Mimi heard the sobs emitted from him and crawled over to him and wrapped her arms around him. Collins nodded to Maureen, and the two softly exited the loft. Mark practically had to drag Lisa into his room.
"Marky, stop—"
"My room. Now," he argued.
"Roger, I'm going to die anyway. I don't have any control over that. It could be tomorrow, in eight months when the baby's born, it could be in ten years. One of us is going to die on the other, Roger, and we have to accept that. I'm not giving up on you, on us, or this baby. I'm not a quitter like April was. April had years in front if her, but she gave up. Mimi Marquez doesn't give up. It's the world that gives up on her," Mimi comforted him. Roger had now shifted his position and wrapped himself around Mimi, almost as if he was afraid to let go.
"April was scared. She didn't know—"
"April's gone. The past is gone. You have to live in the present, and the present is right here, right now, with you, me, and our baby," she said, trying to wipe her tears away and keep her arms around Roger at the same time. "I love you, Roger. This baby has made me realize why I love you so much. It's because no matter where I go, or where I am, or if I die, I know a part of me and you will be out there for the world to see, and that our baby will be loved by her parents for as long as they live to provide for it," Mimi started crying again, and slowly so did Roger.
"I'm sorry about all the things I said. I didn't mean it," he replied, kissing her softly.
"Remember in the hospital when you said I was your heart?"
"Yea, I do. I meant it," he answered back, Mimi's head now resting on his shoulder.
"You're my heart too," she whispered in his ear.
*//
"Collins, I don't get the directions for these brownies. Am I supposed to use milk or water? What tastes better?" Maureen asked him. She had taken over Collins' apartment in an attempt to bake brownies for Roger and Mimi after hearing their not so nice fight through the paper thin walls. It reminded her of Joanne, which only made her slip into a larger depressed funk than she was already in.
"Milk. Definitely milk. The water makes it taste like really bad cake," Collins laughed, flicking some of the mix at Maureen. Maureen shrieked and dumped the cup full of water she was planning to use over Collins head, then added the milk to the mixture.
"Okay, so twenty minutes then? Think it's enough time for the dust to settle over there?" she asked. Collins shrugged and stuck his finger in the now empty mixing bowl.
"Give 'em thirty minutes. Twenty to bake, ten to cool off, and five to make sure they're not having make up sex while we wait outside their door," he added thoughtfully.
"Good point," she giggled. She set the timer and sat down at the wooden kitchen table. Collins sat down across from her and scanned the latest edition of The New York Times. He noticed Maureen staring out the window and sighed.
"Okay girlfriend, what's going on with you and Joanne?"
"Oh, Collins, I don't know. She left this morning after blowing up at me for flirting with an intern over the punch bowl," Maureen said, huffily blowing a piece of hair out of her eyes.
"Male or female?" Collins questioned, briefly checking the stock quotes before turning his attention back to Maureen.
"Male."
"Was he cute?"
"Collins! Yes, he was cute. I kind of—well, agreed to meet him for dinner tomorrow night," she whispered.
"Where at?"
"L'Avignon…" Maureen trailed off. Collins jaw dropped open.
"Maureen! Do you know how expensive that place is?" Collins eyed her. He wasn't sure if she was doing this to get back at Joanne, or if she honestly wanted to go out with this guy.
"I know, but—it would be a nice change from the Life Café," she admitted.
"You do have a point there. Tell me something about him," Collins lifted his eyes to check the brownie timer briefly, then glanced back at Maureen.
"Well, he just turned 27 in December. His name is Chad Bennett, and he's vice president of his father's advertising agency, Bennett Productions. Never married, been single for the last year, and is looking for someone a little out of the mold," Maureen finished with a wink.
"Like you?" Collins stated. He raised an eyebrow and sighed. Maureen would always be Maureen, and that would never change.
"I guess you could say that."
"What about you and Joanne?"
"I just need a change. It's only one date, Collins, and I'm pretty sure she's moving out anyway. You know the saying—all things good come to an end. Maybe our good wasn't too good to begin with," she smiled sadly. "Besides, I think I'll like having someone who has lots of people working for him!" she laughed, getting up to take the brownies out of the oven. "By the way, who was that girl Mark was with? New girlfriend? She looks a lot younger than him, if you ask me," she criticized.
"Not exactly. I haven't really talked about it with him yet, but he told me that's his sister, Lisa," Collins replied, leaving out the fact that she was pregnant. Maureen was happy enough with the brownies and Chad; Collins didn't want her nosing around other people's business until he found out the scoop from Mark first.
"Younger?"
"Much."
"These look about ready. Let's go, pookie!" she shouted, half skipping to the
door.
"Did you just call me 'pookie'? Maureen? Make sure you knock first!"
*//