Part Eleven

A/N: Thanks for the reviews everyone. Love you all as always. ;)

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"Roger. Roger, get up. Now." Mark stole the pillow off of Roger's head and threw it on the floor. Roger ignored him and pulled the sheets over his head instead. Mark knew this was going to happen. If there was one thing he had found out about Roger Davis in all their years as friends, it was that he hated getting up early. Mark sighed and returned to the kitchen, figuring that if Roger refused to get up, he would resort to drastic measures. He pulled out a handful of ice cubes and wrapped them in a paper towel, taking them back to Roger's room with him.

Mimi was propped up in bed, trying to stifle a giggle. Mark put a finger to his lips and dumped all five of the cubes and ice water all over Roger.

"HOLY SHIT!" Roger yelled out, practically diving off the bed. "Jesus Mark! What the fuck was that for?"

"You were the one that wanted the wake up call. If you want to get out of the city before noon, you better get out of bed," Mark warned before retreating to the kitchen. Mimi nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, well I need a shower." He stalked off and slammed the bathroom door. Mimi groaned and followed Mark into the kitchen. She poured herself a cup of coffee and tried to make idle conversation with Mark until Roger reappeared five minutes later, with a 'don't-fuck-with-me" look written all over his face.

"Roger…" Mimi sighed. She followed him into the bedroom and curled up on the bed while he changed.

"This place is such a fucking shit hole. The water ran out after five minutes today instead of the usual ten."

"I know. Come here," she instructed. "Lay with me." Roger did so, and Mimi rested her head on his chest. "I know this is hard for you."

"I don't think I can do it. I don't know how they'll react. Promise me something?" he questioned, kissing the top of her stomach.

"Anything."

"Promise that you and Mark will come up to Scarsdale if I need you to this weekend?" he asked. Mimi nodded and placed his hand on her stomach again. "We'll be there," she emphasized, causing Roger to laugh.

"Okay. You know I'm really happy about this baby right?" Roger asked.

"I know."

"And that I really love you, right?"

"You only tell me ten times a day," Mimi teased. Roger checked the alarm clock next to him. It was almost 8, and he knew that he needed to leave soon.

"I gotta go." He picked up his duffel and headed towards the door. Mimi followed, and soon after so did Mark. "Tell him what I told you, okay?" Roger said. Mimi nodded and threw her arms around his neck.

"I'm gonna miss you. I love you," she replied, kissing him a few times.

"I love you both," Roger said, pointing to her stomach. Mark rolled his eyes and laughed. Roger noticed and gave Mark a quick hug.

"Yeah, I love you too," he complained. Mimi wrapped her arm around Mark and rested her head against his shoulder. Roger finally left the loft and jogged down the stairs, stopping again outside of Maureen's apartment. He knocked twice, and finally a half dressed Maureen came to the door, keys in her hand.

"Don't say a word," she threatened, handing the keys to him. "I just better get my Acura back in one piece or I'll shove your Fender so far up your ass—"

"Love you too, sweetheart," Roger winked. Maureen smacked him and slammed the door in his face.

Roger walked toward the small parking lot to the side of the building where Maureen kept her car. He threw his duffel in the backseat, and took off for Scarsdale before he even thought about turning back.

*//

After fighting his way through the usual morning traffic, Roger finally turned off the Bronx River Parkway about an hour after he set out from the loft. He was surprised he actually remembered the way to Scarsdale, considering that they had remodeled so much of the parkway since he'd left home five years before. He pulled down the familiar street to his mother's and parked on the street, considering that the driveway was crowded for so early in the morning. The only car that stood out to him was a silver BMW convertible, which had to mean only one thing—Heather was home.

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and slowly walked up the driveway, noticing how much everything still looked the same. Same flowers and the same 'Welcome' mat that was placed in front of the door. He hesitated before ringing the doorbell. The next minute had to be the slowest out of Roger's entire life.

The door creaked open quickly, and Lindsey appeared in front of the glass screen door. She was still in her pajamas, and had a toddler attached to her leg, tugging on her pajama bottoms. Her eyes grew wide and she flung the screen door open.

"Holy fucking shit. You've gotta be fuckin' me," she shouted. "Aw, shit. You didn't hear Mommy say that, Rissa," she added, covering her daughter's ears. Apparently shy, Marissa ran off into the kitchen and hid behind the wall, occasionally peeking at Roger. Lindsey squealed and jumped on top of Roger, hugging him. Roger hugged her back and laughed.

"Jesus, I hope I'm not fucking you," he teased back. Lindsey smacked him playfully and hugged him again.

"God, I missed you!" she said.

"I missed you too," Roger admitted. "I hope Mom doesn't hear you talking like that," he added.

"Oh please. She heard enough from you when you were growing up." Roger waved at Marissa, who burst into tears. Lindsey sighed and chased after her, Roger following.

"Marissa, come here. Mommy knows him, it's okay," she soothed, picking her daughter up and bringing her over to Roger. "Say hi to your uncle Roger," she instructed. Marissa stopped crying and just resorted to staring at him. "She's shy, but she'll come around. By the end of the night, she won't leave you alone." Lindsey kissed the top of Marissa's head before setting her down in front of the TV to watch Saturday morning cartoons.

"Nice BMW outside. Must be nice to have money," Roger joked. Lindsey rolled her eyes and nodded.

"No shit," she whispered, not wanting Marissa to hear her.

"When did she get home?" Roger asked, referring to Heather.

"Really early this morning. She looks like hell and could use a few meals. She's so thin now it's disturbing," Lindsey frowned. "She brought Pedro with her," she added.

"I really hope his name isn't Pedro," Roger laughed.

"It's not. It's Miguel. Whatever." Roger looked around the living room, keeping an eye out for his mom.

"Where are mom and dad at?"

"Mom's at the store, and dad's out golfing with Uncle Ted. Mom should be back really soon, but dad, well who knows." Lindsey looked at Roger and ruffled his hair. "Are you hungry? I'm sure I could make you something," she insisted. Roger shrugged and knocked her hand away.

"Coffee's okay for me," Roger answered her. "The last time you tried to make me French toast you left the eggshells in them." Lindsey poured him a cup of coffee and set it on the table, where he sat down.

"That was not intentional. I was twelve years old then, you idiot," she joked.

"Not even home ten minutes and already you start insulting me. I'm hurt, I really am," he added, clutching his heart. Marissa entered the kitchen again and ran over to Roger, arms outstretched.

"Up, up!" she shouted. Roger complied and picked her up and placing her on his lap. She started contently playing with the zipper on Roger's jacket.

"I told you she'd come around," Lindsey smiled. It was so cute to see Roger around kids. She always knew that he would eventually be a great father.

"You've got some explaining to do," he said, pointing to Marissa.

"I know."

"Do I know the father?" Roger asked.

"You could say that." Lindsey pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her chin on them. "Robbie Stewart. We were supposed to get married and everything, but he dropped me for someone else. Nine months later Marissa came along, and I haven't seen him since. He pays child support every month, but he doesn't want anything to do with us."

"I'm sorry, Linds." Lindsey shrugged and pulled her straight brown hair into a ponytail. "I was just about to put Marissa down for a nap when you walked in. She woke up when Heather came home and wouldn't leave her alone for anything." She stood up and picked up Marissa from Roger's lap. "I'll be right back."

About a minute later, Roger heard the front door open again and his mother's voice calling to his sister.

"Linds honey, where are you?" Sandra Davis entered the kitchen to find her youngest son sitting at the table. "Roger? Oh my god." She wrapped her arms around him and kissed the top of his head as Lindsey appeared back in the doorway.

"Yeah Mom, it's me. I wanted to surprise you," Roger laughed, trying to pry himself out of his mother's death grip.

"Oh sweetie, I missed you so much! Jesus," she whispered, still latched on to Roger. "Why didn't Mark come with you?"

"I missed you too Mom, and Mark might stop by later this weekend. He's gotta work on Monday," Roger answered.

"Do you want anything to eat? You must be starving," Sandra laughed, putting groceries away in the refrigerator.

"No Mom, I'm okay." Roger's watch started beeping at that moment, and he shut it off quickly. "Can I just get some water to take my pills? I have an, uh, cold," he stuttered. Sandra raised an eyebrow but gave him the water and Roger took his pills. "Are you sure you're not hungry?"

"Yeah." An awkward silence progressed after that, and Roger didn't know what to say. Lindsey noticed and cleared her throat.

"So, um, you can have your old room back. Heather and Miguel were gonna take it, but I made them sleep downstairs in the basement," Lindsey said, taking Roger's jacket from him.

"Okay." Roger was about to follow Lindsey out of the kitchen when Sandra hugged him again.

"I'm glad your home. Really. Don't worry about your father, either. Okay?" Sandra said. Roger nodded and sighed.

"I won't."

"Now go and take a nap. You look exhausted."

*//

Roger threw his duffel onto the floor before falling facedown onto his old bed. It still squeaked in all the wrong places, which Roger remembered to be a huge problem every time he tried to bring a girl home. Without even giving it a second thought, he picked up his phone and dialed the loft's familiar number. After three rings, Mimi picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey baby."

"Did you just get to your Mom's?"

"Yeah, about a half an hour ago. The traffic wasn't too bad. How do you feel?"

"Like shit, but it comes with being pregnant I guess. I threw up four times already. You should have seen Mark, he looked like a dear caught in headlights," she laughed. Roger sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He hated that he left Mimi behind.

"I miss you."

"I miss you too. When are you coming home?"

"I don't know yet." Roger didn't say anything for a few minutes.

"Roger, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Liar. Do you need me to come?"

"No."

"Fine."

"I didn't mean it like that. I just need to do this on my own."

"I'll talk to you later then."

"I love you?"

"Bye."

*//

Roger hung up with Mimi not long after. Great, so he probably pissed off the person that meant the most to him in the world. Twenty minutes later, he was about to fall asleep when Lindsey knocked on his door and poked her head in. She had changed out of her pajamas and looked wide-awake.

"Can I come in?" she asked, leaning against the doorframe. Roger shrugged and she entered, lying down on the bed next to Roger.

"Where's mom?"

"She took Marissa next door to get a recipe from Mrs. Barrett. I guess she figured you needed your space," Lindsey answered, eyeing the posters on Roger's wall.

"I don't."

"Who were you on the phone with?"

"My girlfriend."

"April?" Roger rolled over and glared at her.

"No. Not April. April's dead. You think that my own family could realize that and stop fucking asking me about her." Lindsey sat up and jumped off the bed and started walking around the room.

"Maybe if you would have fucking come home once in awhile, we would have known," Lindsey spat back.

"Don't even try to turn this around on me. Dad kicked me out of the house, or don't you remember?" Roger argued. He was now sitting up on his bed, playing with the window shade.

"I remember. How can I not remember? Oh yeah, and then there were the phone calls from Mark, telling us he was so worried about you. From the hospital, telling us that you almost overdosed on heroin. I'm sorry I didn't know about April, okay? You shut us all completely out of your life to live a fucking better one in the city. You never came home. Not once. The only person you gave a shit about was yourself." Lindsey sat down again on dresser.

"Bullshit."

"Yeah, it is bullshit. Jesus, look at us. We never used to argue." Roger sighed and threw a pillow over his face.

"I know." Roger flipped over and faced the wall, hoping that by doing so his sister would take the hint and leave. She didn't. Roger remembered that the one thing that used to piss him off about his sister the most was the fact that she refused to back down and walk away from her problems. He was always running. Running away from Mark, Mimi, even himself sometimes.

"Well…I'm gonna go and see if Marissa's back yet." Lindsey turned to leave. "I'm glad that you're home."

"Me too." Roger added before she shut the door. About a minute later, he reached for the phone and dialed the loft number again. This time, Lisa's voice came over the line.

"Hello?"

"Lisa is Mark there?"

"Yep."

"Can I talk to him?"

"Whatever." Roger sighed impatiently. Lisa was really grating on his nerves lately.

"Hey, didn't you just call? Is something wrong?"

"Can you and Mimi come?"

*//

NEXT UP: Roger runs in to someone from his past, Mark and Mimi arrive, and…the Davis family dinner.