CHAPTER 23

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SUNDAY MORNING

MARCH 9th

11 AM

"Good morning," Mark yawned into Jackie's ear. She stirred a little before opening her eyes completely.

"Morning," she answered, perhaps a little less eagerly then expected. She sat up and pulled her straight hair into a twist as Mark stood up to change.

After Roger and Mimi left, Mrs. Davis insisted that they stay for dinner and the night. Mr. Davis had left, leaving Mark and Jackie with just Mrs. Davis, Lindsey and Marissa. Mark and Jackie had ended up sleeping in Roger's old room, and without him there, Mark had to admit it was awkward. Jackie had been more and more distant as the weekend progressed, and he was worried. She had spent all of last night tossing and turning. He didn't know what was going on with her, but he had a feeling she was still coping with Natalie's death and didn't want to talk to anyone about it. He didn't want to be an asshole and force anything on her if she didn't want to.

By lunchtime, Mark and Jackie were saying their goodbyes to Roger's family and on their way to Mark's house. Since it was only two blocks down, Mark had opted to walk, considering their car was now sitting back at the loft.

"So…um, we'll leave right after dinner tonight? I called ahead last night and booked two tickets on the train," he said, breaking the silence.

She nodded. "Fine."

Mark sighed and continued walking. "I can't believe Roger and Mimi are in Argentina. It must be nice there."

"I wouldn't know. I haven't been there," Jackie replied harshly. Mark opened his mouth to say something, but stopped, not wanting to get into a fight with her right here. She noticed and stared at him, almost daring him to say whatever was on his mind. "Go ahead."

"No, forget it."

"No, you obviously have something to say. Get it out," she said, testing him. She had stopped and was resting her hands on her slender hips.

"I just want to know what's wrong. You haven't acted like yourself since we got here," he said calmly.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "If it makes you happier, I'll pretend that my best friend didn't just die and that I don't feel sick to my stomach every time I fucking think about her, but only if it makes you happy Mark."

Mark stopped walking and stared at her. "What the hell was that?"

"What did it sound like?" she said back venomously.

"Jackie, come on, that wasn't fair," he protested.  She stopped and gaped at him, and Mark swore he saw a few tears slide down her cheeks.

"I want to go home," she said, seriously. "I'll just call a cab or something, and I'll leave, because I can't take this right now. My head's about to cave in."

Mark shifted from side to side. "Well, if that's what you want, I guess I'll see you later tonight." He turned and kissed her on the top of her head, and they both ended up walking in opposite directions, no questions asked.

Jackie was even surprised he let her go that easily.

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Three hours later, she found herself curled up on the beaten loft couch, a bottle of vodka by her feet and four empty shot glasses scattered near her. It wasn't even 5 PM and she was wasted off her ass. She hadn't gotten drunk for at least a good two years. Jackie Ferrell, always the responsible drinker.

"Not today…" she giggled out loud, swinging her hand in front of her face and almost smacking herself with it.

Having a roommate that was a bartender definitely had its perks. "Thank you Roger, for your…wonderful supply of all things alcoholic," she slurred, taking another sip straight from the bottle. "You're absolutely wonderful. Absolut."

She stood up, still holding the bottle of vodka in her hand and stumbled to grab it. "Yeah, okay, Jac-kieee, we're going to walk this off. Yes we are," she giggled some more. "I'm talking to myself again."

She stumbled down the loft steps and headed straight for Tompkins Square Park. "I drank tequiiilaaa tonight 'cause I can't have your lips tonight, I don't want to feel ya…I don't want to feel sad tonight! You make me suffer and you just don't know…" she wailed, jogging down the sidewalks. She only received a few strange looks, considering it was a Sunday, and not many people were out.

"Ah shit," she cursed. It had started to rain, and it soaked through her tee shirt and jeans, but she continued walking to the park anyway. "It's a nice day to start again, a nice day for a white wedding…yeah…" she said, finding her way over to the fountain in the middle. By now, it was pouring. Jackie crawled over to an empty bench and sprawled out on it, staring into the cloudy sky.

"Well Natalie, I can't say I love you right now, because…no, I don't. I hate you, you left me, blah blah blah. It's so boring around here, why did you have to go? I think I'm going to quit dancing, unless I can dance to the tequila song…you know the one where there's all that music…bah dum dum duh dum dum dum dum…tequila! Yeah. That one, and there's just one word…tequila. What do you care, you're floating on a cloud so…fuck that."

She continued staring off into the sky and started laughing when a fat raindrop hit her square in the eye. "You know what else? Mark. He's such a pain in the ass. Man, do I love that guy, but talk about clingy? He's like one of those little dryer sheets that always get stuck to your clothes. I think he's really worried about me, but why? I'm perfectly fine!" she yelled out to no one in particular. "That's right, I'm fine. F-I-N-E. Oh, fuck it, I need a nap."

She closed her eyes and inhaled the cold, misty air.

"Jackie."

"What?!" she practically shouted, looking around, her gaze finally landing on the fountain. "Oh stop it April. Get down from there, you're going to break your fucking neck."

April laughed and shook her head. "I'm already dead."

Jackie opened one eye and half sat up. "Oh yeaaa…you kind of are. How is it?"

"Jesus, how much did you have to drink?" she asked, hopping down from the fountain and walking over to her, hands shoved in her hoodie pockets.

Jackie held out her hands and shrugged. "Ohh I don't know. Five shots of vodka…some tequila, maybe a beer or two. Want one? I can get you one! C'mon April, you gotta have one with me," she begged.

April sighed and took a seat next to her. "Move over. We've gotta talk."

"You're looking kind of pale there April. Kind of see through. Maybe you should see a doctor. Hell, I think I need one," Jackie said, sliding over to make room for April.

April cracked a smile and shook her head. "How's Roger?"

"He's absolut-ly great. ABSOLUT. Haha," Jackie laughed. "He's bartending and playing with the Dutch…Romanian…?

"Well Hungarians?" April corrected.

"Yep. That's the one."

"And Mimi?"

"Pregnant. Whoa, is she ever pregnant. Hmmmm kids. I had a kid once. I mean, not really, but I was pregnant with one, and then that stupid bastard Joshua threw me down the stairs and the kid wasn't there the next day. Huh," Jackie said, rubbing her head a little. "My head hurts."

"It'll hurt more tomorrow," April reminded her, feeling her forehead. "Honey, your head is burning up. Are you sick?"

"I don't know. I wasn't feeling to great this morning, but now I feel…a-okay," Jackie answered. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay. How's my brother?"

"He's in Cali-for-n—ia. Los Angeles. Broke his leg. Hey, how come Natalie can't get her ass down here and talk to me?"

"I figured you'd be more responsive to me," April smiled. "I miss you."

"I miss you too. Is Harvey gonna be okay?" Jackie asked, now resting her head in April's lap.

"I know he will. He's hurting like hell right now, but eventually he'll find someone to move on with, just like you moved away from Josh with Mark. Speaking of Mark, he really likes you, you know? You're not doing anyone any favors by pushing him away."

"I know. It hurts really bad, April."

April stroked Jackie's hair and sighed. "I know it does, and Mark's trying to help you, but you've gotta let him in, okay? I want you to go back to dancing, and maybe even go see a therapist. I want you to get better. Don't take the easy way out."

Jackie looked up at April and nodded. "I don't have any friends here. You and Natalie deserted me."

"We didn't desert you. Fate just got in the way."

"Fate's a pain in the ass and I hate him," Jackie mouthed, scowling.

"I know," April laughed. "I've gotta get going, but I wanted to talk some sense into you. Tell Roger—well, don't tell him, because I know him and Mimi fight over me, but give Roger a hug for me?"

"Okay," Jackie whispered. "I love you April."

"I love you too. Watch out for my brother, and Roger, for me, okay? It'll get better sweetie, it always does." She bent over to give Jackie a quick hug and stood up. "It's cold out here. You're gonna get sick."

"Already am. No sense in trying to fend it off now," Jackie smirked.

"You're so stubborn." April laughed, turned and walked away, and eventually Jackie couldn't see her anymore. She closed her eyes again and opened them, feeling her own forehead. She really was burning up, and her own eyesight was blurry.

"I think I'll just sleep here for the night. Good idea," she whispered to herself, wrapping her arms around her soaked body.

"JACKIE!"

"Oh, fuck me," she said grumpily. Seconds later, she felt someone wrap their jacket around her and lift her up easily. "I hope to god you're not a mugger," she said, squinting at her person's face. "For Christ's sakes Mark, put me down, because I'm mad at you." She poked him in his chest and tried to squirm out of his grip, but he only held her tighter.

"Jackie, it's forty degrees out here. Are you insane?" Mark said, trying to warm her up and carry her back to the loft at the same time.

"Don't start lecturing me now. You're not my mother. And yes, maybe I am insane. You'd like that, wouldn't you? How about you have a drink with me right now? ABSOLUT-ly entertaining!"

"How much did you have to drink?" he asked, feeling her forehead. "You have a fever."

"Well duh, Sherlock. April said the same thing, and I don't know how much I had to drink. Enough to knock me off my feet, I suppose."

"April? You talked to April?" He was already on the third story landing of the building.

"Sure I did. She floated down from her cloud and checked up on me."

Mark sighed and opened the loft door. He placed Jackie on the couch and ran off to the bathroom to run the water in the tub. Jackie was only resting on the couch for a full minute before she leaned over and threw up. "Now that was NOT absolut-ly fun," she moaned, resting her head between her knees.

Mark came out from the bathroom and took a seat next to her, rubbing her back. "How do you feel?"

"Like…shit. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," he said, grabbing some towels and throwing them onto the floor. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Yes I do. I treated you like shit, and then I got drunk, and I had a conversation with myself on a bench in the park. You hate me."

Mark laughed, but Jackie glared at him. "I don't hate you."

"Liar."

"How about a bath?" he questioned, helping her stand up.

"Okay." Mark had her sit on the edge of the tub as he tested the water. Jackie quickly stripped off her shirt as Mark turned around and blushed. "Wow Mark, it's amazing how you can put it in me every night but not be able to look at me naked."

Jackie was finished in twenty minutes, after slipping into a tshirt and sweatpants. She had to practically hold onto to Mark in order to get dressed.

"Maybe I should take your temperature?" he asked, as she started coughing violently.

"Yeah, maybe," she croaked. "But after I throw up again."

Mark sighed once more and rubbed her back, making sure she was finished before taking out the thermometer. Jackie bent over the sink and rinsed her mouth out before placing the thermometer in.

"102.4. No wonder you're feeling crummy," he said quietly. Jackie curled up against him on the bathroom floor and rested her head on his shoulder. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

Jackie shakily rose to her feet and Mark led her to the bedroom. After tucking her in, he walked back to the bathroom and brought two pills of Tylenol with him. "These'll make you feel better and bring your temperature down." He held them out to her and she swallowed them easily with the glass of water her provided.

"Mark? Can you lay with me?" she asked quietly. He nodded and climbed into bed next to her, wrapping his arms around her warm body. "I'm sorry I ruined your visit to Scarsdale. What did your mom say?"

"I just told her that you weren't feeling well and that she'd have to meet you some other time. She understood, and I made it through dinner without any members of my family threatening each other," he laughed. Jackie nodded and pulled herself a little closer to him.

"I'm sorry I've been pushing you away. I need you, I really do, okay?"

"I know," he answered back. "Just get some rest and we'll talk about everything in the morning."

"Goodnight," she whispered.

"Night."

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BUENOS AIRES, ARGENTINA

Monday, March 10th

9 AM (11 AM EST)

"I have got to piss so fricken bad."

Roger's and Mimi's plane had landed in Ministro Pistarini airport twenty minutes before. It had been a comfortable flight for Roger. He had his free bar and enough in flight movies to keep him occupied and out of Mimi's hair. Mimi, on the other hand, was pretty miserable.

"So uh, which way to the bathrooms?" Roger asked, glancing around. Mimi smiled—he looked so confused and lost. A majority of the signs were in Spanish, but a few had English subtitles underneath.

"Cuartos de baño," she corrected. "Are that way."

"Yeah…cuartos of whatever," he said, stumbling over the pronunciation. They reached the bathrooms, and Roger went into the men's side and Mimi into the ladies. Five minutes later they were out and walking into customs and immigration.

"What's that sign say?" he asked, pointing behind the customs booth.

"Puerto Nuestra Señora Santa María del Buen Aire. Port of Our Lady Saint Mary of the Good Air," she translated. "You have a lot to learn."

"Thanks," he laughed, kissing the top of her head. "How's your back?"

"Oh it hurts like a bitch. I way cramped up for way too long. Are you tired?" she asked, wrapping her arm around him as the line for immigration inched up.

"Yeah, a little."

"We'll take a nap once we get settled in at my aunt's house," Mimi reminded him. "You'll love her cooking. The best, no lie. I'm starving anyway."

"You just ate."

"Shitty plane food doesn't count as a real meal," she laughed.

"I agree with you on that," he said, handing their passports to the clerk.

"Gracias," Mimi said, as she stamped them. Mimi placed them back in her bag and they were off to baggage claim. "We need to get a taxi to Recoleta."

"Okay." Roger grabbed the two duffels and slung them over his shoulder as he followed Mimi to the taxi stand near the airport exit. "How far is the city from here?"

"About 35 miles. We're in Ezeiza, which is in the suburbs. Kind of like how Newark is on the suburbs of Manhattan."

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When the cab driver drove through the streets of Recoleta, Roger's forehead was practically glued to the window. "Holy shit, look at the size of these houses," he said, pulling on Mimi's arm.

"Yeah, um, I know," she answered quietly.

Roger looked back at her, concerned. "Are you okay?"

Mimi shook her head. "No, not really, but I will be."

Roger nodded and took her hand in his. "Does your aunt speak English?"

"Yep. Most people do here, because it's taught as a second language in schools, but usually when my family gets together we all speak Spanish, because everyone understands it, but I'll translate for you, and once everyone realizes you're here they'll speak English to you, not Spanish."

"Okay," he smiled. The cab driver pulled into a concrete driveway, and turned back to look at Mimi.

"Who do I ask for?" he said, his thick accent almost drowning out his words.

"Sofia Marquez Ladrero."

"And your name?"

"Mimi Marquez." The cab driver was allowed through the gates and pulled to a stop right in front of them. Mimi reached over to pay him and slid out, Roger following behind her. He once again collected the bags, and once the cab pulled out of the driveway, they were heading up the path towards the house. "I know it's big."

"I didn't know—well, you know—"

"That my father was so wealthy? The only other person that ever knew was Angel. She came with me here one summer. She loved it," Mimi said sadly. "It's not something I chose to share with people."

"Yeah."

"We'll talk about it later, okay?" she said, reaching for his hand again. "I'm sorry I didn't warn you ahead of time."

"No, it's fine." Roger cleared his throat and kissed her lightly before they reached the door. "Ready?"

"I guess so."

"Do I knock, or ring the doorbell?"

"Try the doorbell," Mimi answered. Roger could tell she was nervous and pulled her a little closer to him. The door opened slowly, and a petite blonde stood in front of them. Her bronze skin accented her hazel eyes, and Roger noticed how closely she resembled Mimi, minus her straight hair.

"Mimi?! How are you? Oh my god!" she cried, reaching for Mimi and pulling her in for a hug. "You look wonderful."

"It's been a long time," Mimi answered.

"Three years. That's too long," the girl laughed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. She was dressed in shorts and tank top, her bathing suit top visible from underneath. "I was just about to go to the beach."

"Mar del Plata?" Mimi asked, laughing. "I haven't been there in forever."

"I'm taking you tomorrow."

Mimi noticed Roger uncomfortably shifting from side to side. "Oh, Celeste, this is my boyfriend Roger. Roger, my cousin Celeste," she introduced.

"Hi, it's nice to meet you. How do you like Buenos Aires so far?" she asked, shaking his hand politely.

"From what I've seen, it's pretty nice," he smiled.

"Celeste, who are you talking to?"

"It's Mimi, Mama," she called up the stairs. A brunette in a tan pantsuit descended the stairs quickly, immediately wrapping Mimi up in a hug.

"How are you? Oh, you look so good. Your mother's over your father's house visiting you grandmother. How was the flight?"

"Not too bad. A little long, and uncomfortable," Mimi answered. Sofia made a face and laughed.

"Still complaining, huh? And who is this?"

"Aunt Sofia, this is my boyfriend Roger," Mimi said, wrapping her arm around his waist again.

"It's nice to meet you Roger. Just make yourself at home. Well, I'm sure both of you are exhausted, so let me show you upstairs to the guest room. What's the weather like back in Manhattan?" Sofia questioned, walking back up the stairs with Roger, Mimi, and Celeste following.

"Cold. Only about 40 degrees," Roger answered as they continued down a long tiled hallway. She stopped outside a room at the end of the hall and opened the door. Roger was taken aback by the size of it. It was easily the size of the living room and kitchen of the loft combined, and airy. It was decked out in shades of white and tan, and a king size bed sat in the middle between two full length windows that he assumed led out onto two separate balconies.

"You won't have to worry about that kind of weather here. It's an easy 80 degrees by noon until the end of next month," she smiled. "Let me know if you both are hungry, and I'll have something set out on the table."

"Thanks," Mimi replied. "How is he?"

Sofia stopped and shrugged awkwardly. "As well as to be expected, I suppose. His heart is failing." She kissed Mimi on both cheeks and held her for a second. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too." Sofia nodded politely at Roger and shut the door behind her and Celeste.

Roger set the bags near the bed, and Mimi grabbed the overnight bag and took it with her into the bathroom. She started placing things in the medicine cabinet and the toothbrushes in the holder when Roger walked in.

"Jesus, look at that bathtub. I'm just letting you know we have a date in that tonight. What the hell does your uncle do for a living?" he joked, placing his arms around Mimi's waist.

"He owns a few banks around the city, and the tub sounds tempting."

"It really is beautiful here," he added, opening the door to the balcony. "You can even see the ocean from here."

"Yeah, it really is. Every time I came here I'd have such a hard time leaving, but to me, New York is home. I can visit and vacation here, but I don't think I could ever live here."

"I don't think I could ever really leave the city anyway."

She nodded and stripped out of her hoodie, leaving her in a tank top and sweatpants. "Did you take your pills?"

"No."

"Take them now," she ordered playfully, pulling him away from the balcony.

"Okay mom."

He came back out a minute later and winked at her. "So how does that nap sound now?"

"Hmm. That bed looks pretty inviting," she answered, setting herself on it. She pulled him down next to her and rested her head against his chest. "Thank you."

"For what?" he yawned.

"For coming with me, and not pushing me to answer a ton of questions about my past."

He kissed her nose. "No problem."

She yawned and snuggled against him some more, and before she knew it, they had both fallen into a deep sleep.

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