Part Seven

*//

The answering machine message had ended minutes ago, and still everyone remained frozen in their spots. Benny, still upholding his conversation with Lisa, had barely responded to what had happened. Maureen was now posing against the wall, suddenly transfixed with the window. Mark looked pale and stunned, and Collins was staring at a section of the ceiling. Mimi's eyes were now locked on Roger's door, occasionally crossing back to the needle on the floor.

"I think we should—" Mark cleared his throat and broke the silence of the room. Mimi glanced over at him and shook her head forcefully.

"This isn't some fucking rescue mission, Mark. I'd appreciate it if everyone just left. The last thing Roger needs is for this to turn into a goddamn three ring circus," Mimi spat. Collins walked over and put his arm around her.

"Mark's only trying to help. Please don't get yourself upset, it's not good for the baby," he comforted. Mimi nodded and rested a hand on her flat stomach and lowered her head.


"Yeah..."

"We understand, sweetie. I'll be at Chad's tonight, but if you need anything please call one of us. I'd really like for you all to meet him when everything gets settled, okay?" Maureen said, giving Mimi a quick hug. She gently grabbed Benny's arm from the couch and pulled him along with her, much to Lisa's amusement.

"It was nice meeting you!" Lisa called after him.

"Pleasure," Benny smirked, now halfway outside the loft. Now with Maureen and Benny gone, Collins remained standing near Mark.

"Do you want anything to drink or eat? You look like you could use something," Mark offered.

"Yeah, i'll try a glass of water and a bagel. No cream cheese. I'm really trying not to throw up right now," she replied. Lisa had gotten up and returned with a wet washcloth and handed it to Mimi.

"Here, put this on your forehead. It used to help me with the nausea," Lisa suggested. Mimi nodded and shut her eyes. Mark had returned with the water and bagel and set them both on the coffee table.

"Whenever you want to eat it's here," he said.


"Thanks Mark. I know I don't tell you this enough, but thank you for everything. Can I ask you a favor though?" She propped herself up higher on the pillows and took a sip of the water.
Mark nodded and paused in place.

"Yep, anything Meems," he smiled.

"Do you think...well I know Roger should go with me, but do you think you could take me to the clinic sometime today? I know I need to go, but I've been putting it off...and would you?"

"Yeah, of course. It's about eleven now, so we could go anytime you want," Mark reassured her.

"Okay. I'm just gonna go and lay with him for a while and rest in there. I don't know how much good it'll do," she explained. Just then, the phone rang and Collins reached to answer it.

"Mimi, tell Roger his mom called again," Mark added. She nodded and retreated to the bedroom.

"Yeah, hold on a minute, he's right here," Collins spoke into the phone. He turned around and handed it to Mark.

"Who is it?"

"Jacqueline Ferrell from SFP," Collins answered, raising an eyebrow. Mark took the phone from him and walked to the other side of the couch.

"This is Mark Cohen. Okay, yeah. Seriously? That's great. Tomorrow morning at nine? Yeah, I can make it. Sounds good. See you then. Bye," Mark finished and hung up the phone. Collins was still staring at him apprehensively.

"And?" Collins laughed, now digging into the bagel bags that had been left abandoned. He threw one at Mark, which flew over his head and smacked the wall instead.

"Well, you remember my film? The one I worked on for three years and finally screened for you guys this past Christmas?"

"Yeah," Collins agreed. He was rummaging around in the refrigerator, finally pulling out the cream cheese.

"I kind of, submitted it to this production company, SFP, on a whim a few days after Christmas. Just to see where I stand and all in the independent film world. Well, Jacqueline's an intern at SFP, and her boss wanted her to call me to set up an interview. She said that if all goes well, they want to offer me an internship with the company," Mark sheepishly grinned.

"Hey! That's great! I'm really happy for you!" Collins shouted out, giving Mark a quick hug.

"Yeah, thanks. I'm pretty psyched about it. I haven't had a real job since freshman year of college," Mark added.

"Looks like you finally have your shot to make it big," Collins smirked.

"Sure." Mark rolled his eyes. "I'm really worried about Roger. This isn't like him."

"I know. I didn't want to say anything in front of Mimi, but I think he could really benefit from some kind of therapy. I think he just needs someone else to talk to besides us," Collins suggested.

"Yeah, but do you know how much therapy costs? We can barely afford heat, and now with two pregnant women, living here is going to become a real expense. Plus with Roger's AZT treatment, add in double the cost of food, and baby supplies, how are we going to afford everything? Especially with Benny breathing down our necks lately," Mark sighed. He tossed the cream cheese back in the fridge and walked over to the broken lamp. "Now we're minus one light," he joked sarcastically.

"Well, you know the ATM machine at the Food Emporium is still hotwired. Plus, I'm always here to help you guys out money wise. I'm sure Maureen can donate some baby things. You'll just need two of everything—two cribs, two changing table…any other baby supplies. If your interview goes well tomorrow, which it will, you'll have a paying job by next week, so it's not like you'll be dirt poor. Roger can go back to bartending, maybe go back to the band if he feels up to it and try out some new gigs. You'll see. It'll work out in the long run," Collins said.

"Yeah, but how are we supposed to get Roger to therapy? We can barely get him to go to the Life Support meetings," Mark complained. He finished cleaning up the lamp and discarded everything in the trash.

"Easy. Threaten to call his mother and tell her everything," Collins suggested.

"Do you know how much he would hate me? Besides, she already knows that he was a junkie. What else can I tell her?"

"Have her invite him to Scarsdale for a week. If she asks the right questions, he has no choice but to be open with her. Didn't you tell me once that Roger and his mom used to be close?" Collins asked.

"Yeah, they did, before he left for the city at least. He wouldn't go for it," Mark shot back.

"You never know until you try."

*//

Mimi abandoned Collins and Mark to find Roger lying face down on their bed, his chest falling softly up and down. His guitar had been left by his feet, along with a few sheets of papers with lyrics scribbled on them and a pencil. Mimi placed the Fender back in its holder and the music on the dresser before approaching him.

"Roger?"

No answer.

"Roger?" she tried again, whispering in his ear. When there was still no answer, she curled up next to him. It was so cold in the room that she could see her own breath exhaling from her mouth. She shivered a bit and adjusted the heater, only to find that it had been maxed out to the highest setting. She closed her eyes briefly, unaware that Roger now had flipped onto his side to face her.

"Hey," he answered. Mimi turned over to face him as well and kissed him lightly on the lips. "I'm sorry about everything. I don't want you to think I'm some fuck up that needs to turn to drugs all the time. I just…I don't know, slipped up. I thought I was better than that," he explained, refusing to meet her eyes.

"You are better than that, Roger. You made a mistake, it's okay. We all do. You were scared, and you didn't know what to do. I didn't mean to yell at you like that. I probably made you feel worse," she replied. "God, it's so cold in here." Roger nodded and pulled the sheets down on the bed, along with the comforter. He slid under it, pulling her with him, and then tucking the sheets around them both.

"Better?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her.

"Yeah," she replied.

"I love you and I'm going to love our baby. You know that, right?" Roger asked. He pulled up her shirt and kissed her stomach gently.

"I know. It's just…forget it," Mimi replied.

"No. Tell me," Roger pushed, now pulling Mimi on top of him. He kissed her forehead, but she pulled away. "You're crying. What's up?"

"I need you to just listen, okay?" she replied, resting a hand on his chest.

"Okay?"

"This isn't my first pregnancy," Mimi said, talking more to the wall then to Roger.

"Yeah, Benny said something about that," Roger responded, rolling his eyes at the mention of Benny's name.

"He said it because he would know. I'm going to tell you this because I want to be honest with you, so please don't be angry with me. The year before I knocked on your door for you to light my candle, I was dating Benny. He was a regular customer at the club, and one night one thing led to the other and we went back to his place together. We started dating not long after that, and then by November of the same year, I found out I was pregnant. It was his, but he had just married Alison Grey a few months before then and didn't want to sacrifice their relationship. We broke up not long after. I had an abortion a few days before I met you. I used the money he left me. It hurt like hell and I could barely walk after they were done. That's why when I came to you and you asked me if I could make it, I told you I was just a little weak on my feet. I just thought you should know," she finished softly. She could feel Roger tense up underneath her. "Say something?"

"What the fuck do you want me to say? Benny of all people!" he shouted. Mimi backed up from him on the bed and stood up. She walked over to the mirror and pulled her hair up into a loose ponytail and pulled off her shirt, digging around in the dresser for something to wear. She finally settled on a black tank top and a short navy shirt that was cut off around the stomach. The faded lettering read "CBGB", probably a hand me down from Roger's old band days. She tore off Roger's boxers and pulled on a tiny pair of baggy cargo pants. She looked over and Roger was changing as well. She perched on the edge of the bed, watching him instead of storming out.

"I need to go to the clinic today. Mark offered to take me, unless you want to," she said, interrupting the silence.

"Fine."

"Don't sound to thrilled about it," Mimi muttered sarcastically. "I better tell Mark. We'll leave in a minute." She might as well have started a conversation with the wall, seeing as Roger was trying to ignore her. She walked out into the living room and over to Mark and Collins, who were once again deep in conversation.

"Hey Mark, Roger's taking me to the clinic, so I just wanted to let you," Mimi said. It came out a lot nastier than it should have, but no one paid any mind. Mark just nodded and continued his conversation. Roger had come of the bedroom with his leather jacket in hand. He gave Mimi her coat as well, and waited for her at the door.

"Coming?"

*//

The subway ride was silent, with Mimi and Roger pressed up against each other, but not saying a word. Mimi had taken to staring out the window, but felt herself growing dizzier with each minute. She held on to the bar with both hands and closed her eyes, trying to prevent the feeling of nausea she felt rising up in her stomach. Roger seemed to take no notice, until she shifted slightly and bumped up against his elbow. He automatically glanced down at her with concern and grabbed her elbow.

"Are you okay?" he asked. She nodded, but then changed her mind and shook her head.

"I'm really dizzy. And nauseous," she whispered. The train was crowded, mostly with businessmen and women poised in the few seats, typing away at their laptops of talking on their cell phones. Roger led her over to the nearest occupied seat, rubbing her back softly the whole way. He figured that someone had to be nice enough to let Mimi sit down for the rest of the ride.

"Excuse me? My girlfriend's pregnant and she needs to sit down. Do you think you could let her take your seat?" Roger said impatiently. Mimi did look a little green and felt clammy to his touch. The businessman glared at him.

"She doesn't look pregnant to me," he sneered. Roger pressed his face closer to the man's and gave him a look.

"Get the fuck out of the seat if you know what's good for you," Roger threatened. The man's eyes grew wide as he jumped out of his seat. Many of the people around him applauded, but Roger ignored them. He sat Mimi down and kneeled between her legs. She had rested her hands on his shoulders and looked like she was trying not to pass out. Roger was rubbing the sides of her chest gently.

"Do you feel any better?"

"Not really. God Roger, I hate this so much," she tried to laugh, hunching over and resting her head in his chest.

"We'll get off at the next stop and either we'll walk or I'll carry you the rest of the way," he said, kissing her forehead. "I'm sorry I blew up at you before," he added.

"Don't worry about it. I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too. They just announced the next stop. C'mon, I'll help you up," he added, locking Mimi's fingers in his and helping her stand. He wrapped his arm around her waist and helped her walk down the aisle and to the door. When the doors opened, he led Mimi on to the platform. She automatically spotted and ran to the nearest trashcan. Roger followed, rubbing her back the whole time.

"This is an experience. Me, throwing up in a public trashcan, and I'm not even drunk," she said, pulling a tissue out of her pocket and wiping her mouth.

They walked the remaining five blocks to the clinic, Mimi still clutching Roger's hand. The waiting room actually wasn't crowded for once, so she filled out the appropriate paperwork and handed it back in without any trouble. The wait was less than ten minutes, and before she realized it a nurse was already calling her name.

"Mimi Marquez?

"That's us, babe," Roger nudged her. She followed the nurse into the exam room. The nurse explained that the counselor would be with them shortly, but for now she'd take blood samples and monitor Mimi's blood pressure.

"Okay, so from what you wrote down on your forms, Mimi, you're seven weeks pregnant and have stopped taking your AZT because of the baby?"

"Yeah. When I went to the hospital, they told me I should stop my treatment," Mimi answered, shifting around in Roger's lap. The nurse shook her head and wrote a few things down on Mimi's chart.

"Actually, certain medical studies have advised to take your AZT during pregnancy to decrease the chances that your fetus contracts HIV. We usually suggest our patients to take it from the second trimester onward. When the baby is born, we set up a treatment plan for six weeks after birth for the child. The doctors won't be able to tell whether or not your baby has developed HIV until anywhere between six to eighteen months of age," she explained.

"Why can't you tell?" Roger interrupted.

"The baby is going to get antibodies from Mimi against HIV even if it doesn't contract the disease. If the baby is negative, these antibodies will disappear anywhere from six to eighteen months. If the baby is positive, after this timeframe the baby will keep testing positive. After the second trimester has started, around 13 weeks, we can continue on full AZT treatment again. For you, that would be around mid March," she answered.

"Okay. Good," Roger said. It was only the 7th of February.

 "Alright Mimi, I'm going to ask you to lay back on the exam table and we'll see if we can get an ultrasound of your baby's first heartbeat," she smiled. Roger moved out of the way and Mimi straightened out on the table, pulling her shirt up in the process.

"You can do that?" Roger asked, sounding shocked. Mimi playfully smacked his arm and rolled her eyes.

"Yes, we can do that. Just hold on a second and let me find a good position…there." She was pointing at a small blob on the screen, an even tinier portion of which was beating. "See it?"

"Wow," Mimi and Roger said at the same time.

"That's our baby," he added.

"Yeah," Mimi agreed.

"We did that."

"We did," she giggled. Roger bent over to kiss her.

"That must have been some good egg nog," he joked.

"It was all you, baby.  You've trained your boys well," she said, poking him in the ribs.

"Okay Mimi. I'll setup another appointment for you and have your ultrasound pictures waiting or you at the desk," the nurse smiled.

"Hey, can you make copies?" Roger suggested.

"Sure can," she added, before rushing out of the room.

"I think we should celebrate," Roger whispered in Mimi's ear.

"Oh really?" Mimi laughed. "What are you suggesting?"

"Maybe you could try out some of those dances you do at the club on me," he winked.

"Roger Davis, you're really in for it now!"

*//

The next morning, Mark was rushing around in a panic. He had been up with Lisa most of the night, who had been complaining of her stomach aching, which mostly consisted of her running back and forth to his room asking where something was every ten minutes. Mimi and Roger had been louder than ever, and Mark figured it had been to celebrate their first ultrasound, a picture of which was hanging on the refrigerator door of the loft. He adjusted his tie and ran out the door, making it in time for the next subway to the theater district. About twenty minutes and one crowded subway ride later, Mark had arrived outside of the SFP building and was now staring at it nervously. He opened the glass door cautiously and found himself in a small but futuristic reception area. Approaching the front desk, he wrote his name on the sign in sheet and smiled at the harried looking receptionist behind it.

"Hi, I have a 9 o'clock appointment with Jacqueline Ferrell," Mark said.

"You don't have an appointment with Jacqueline Ferrell. You have an appointment with her boss, Christina Marcello. Name?" she spat at him angrily.

"Uh, Mark Cohen," he answered.

"Take the elevator to the 10th floor. Make a left and follow the signs," she practically shouted at him. Mark nodded and thanked her before setting off to the elevators. The elevator was completely glass and see-through, and as his passed each floor, Mark saw all the cubicles and offices pass him by. He followed the signs and entered another reception area. Walking towards this receptionist carefully, he took a deep breath before speaking.

"Hi, can I help you with something?" she smiled brightly.

"Yeah, hi. I'm Mark Cohen, and I have a 9 o'clock appointment with Christina Marcello," he remembered, not wanting to offend anyone else.

"You must be Mark Cohen. Welcome to SFP," she greeted him. "Christina should be in her office at the moment, and Jackie's not here yet," she frowned. "But take a seat over there and I'll let you know when she'll see you."

"Okay, great." Mark picked up a magazine off of the table and started flipping through it, glancing at the clock every few seconds. After about fifteen minutes of waiting, a tall, redheaded woman approached the receptionist. She quickly walked over to Mark and smiled.

"Hi, I'm Christina Marcello. Sorry about the wait. My husband took the wrong subway line this morning and got completely lost, so I had to give him directions," she laughed, sticking out her hand.

"Not a problem," Mark answered, leaving the magazine behind.

"If you'll follow me into my office, we'll wait for Jackie there. She phoned in and said she'd be a little late this morning," Christina added. She returned to her desk and started fielding phone calls automatically, so Mark took this opportunity to relax. Ten minutes later, Christina's door opened again and a thin woman about Mark's height with light blonde hair stepped in. Christina hung up the phone automatically and smiled at her.

"Sorry I'm late," she said. "It was an adventure trying to drive through the city this morning."

"It's not a problem. Mark, this is Jacqueline Ferrell, one of my interns," Christina introduced. Jackie smiled slowly and shook Mark's hand.

"Just call me Jax," she said. Mark nodded. He couldn't help but stare at her. She was beautiful, but she looked as if she was trying not to draw attention to herself. He noticed her wince slightly as she sat down and frowned. Her right wrist had an ace bandage wrapped around it, and both sides of her collarbone had some visible bruising surrounding it, even though it had attempted to be concealed.

"Mark, we reviewed your film last week and we like what we see. You have a lot of potential and in all honesty, we'd like you to come and work for us here. You'd start out as an intern, basically working with film editing at first. You and Jackie will be working together to review all the independent films that come through our doors," Christina said. "It's a great opportunity for you."

"What about my film?" Mark questioned.

"I'm going to hand it off to my supervisor, and throw it in front of some film execs upstairs. From there, we'll see if we can get in on the independent movie channels, and then it'll move on to the film festivals with a bit of luck," she joked.

"Wow, that's really…wow," Mark laughed. "That's great."

"Yeah, it is. It can be a long process. It doesn't happen overnight, but if they like what they see, it could happen a lot sooner than you expect. We just need a script and for everyone in the video to sign this form to consent to the film being aired eventually," Christina added, pushing a form towards him.

"Okay."

"So what do you say, Mark?"

"Yes, definitely," Mark answered.

"Great. You start Monday from 9-3. You and Jackie will be working together frequently, so it would be a good idea for you both to get to know each other better," she suggested. "If you'll excuse me, I have another meeting to get to, but just sign this contract for me Mark and hand it to Jackie before you leave and we're off to a good start." Christina exited the room, and Jackie stood up shortly after. Mark noticed how she made sure she gripped the table to support herself.

"Hey, are you okay?" Jackie turned her head to look back at him. She shrugged.

"Yeah, it's nothing. I'm just a little sore," she said.

"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Car accident. My boyfriend likes to drive a little crazy sometimes. Or ex boyfriend," she laughed politely.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mark apologized, wishing he hadn't said anything.

"Don't be sorry. He was an asshole anyway. You know how it goes," Jackie smiled. "But anyway, my number's at the bottom of your copy of the contract, so if you ever need anything or have any questions give me a call. See you Monday," She waved with her good hand before walking away.

"Yeah, Monday."

*//

A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers. I love you guys. This story is going to take a real turn in the upcoming weeks that I post, so look out for that. =)