CHAPTER 24
Big thanks to all my reviewers! You guys own. ;) 33
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"Oh shit."
Jackie rolled over and placed both of her hands on her forehead. She soon realized that she was burning up, and that her head felt like it was being weighed down by a few good size bricks. "Fanfuckingtastic." She tried to sit up, but slumped back under the covers quickly.
"Hey," Mark greeted her. "You're up."
"Shhh," she whispered. "Why.are.you.yelling?"
Mark laughed and handed her two Tylenols and a glass of water. "I'm not. Take those and I'll go get the thermometer."
Jackie pushed herself up high enough to swallow the pills. Mark came back and handed the thermometer to her and she stuck it under her tongue obediently. "99.8."
"Good. At least your fevers down. How about some breakfast?" Mark asked.
"Some toast would be okay. I don't think I can stomach much of anything else," she joked, coughing a little. "Could you bring me my purse? I think my cell's ringing."
Mark nodded and returned with her bag and went off to get the toast.
"Hello?" she said hoarsely into the phone.
"Hey."
"Harvey? How are you?"
"I'm good, better at least. What about yourself? You sound sick."
"I am, kind of. I got a little drunk by myself last night and ended up sitting outside in the rain for awhile, so yeah, I am sick," she laughed. "How's California?"
"It's good. I'll probably be here for another two weeks. It feels good to get away."
"Yeah. How's your leg?"
"Decent. It hurt like hell for the first week, but once it started to heal it's been okay. Listen, my sister wants to use the phone, but I'd just figure I'd call and check up on you and everything."
"Okay. I'll talk to you soon?"
"Sure. Love you."
"Love you too." Jackie flung her cell phone back on the bed and stood up shakily. She wrapped her arms around herself and headed off to the bathroom. As she splashed her face with water, she wished she could have spoken to Harvey a little longer. He seemed, well, distant.
Mark reentered the bedroom and pulled the sheets off the bed, knocking her cell phone and the contents of the purse onto the floor. "Fuck." He picked up the various pieces of makeup, money, and her wallet, shoving them back into the bag before reaching underneath the bed to check for anything else. He felt under the bed and pulled out a bottle of pills. Without thinking much about it, he glanced at the label. Phenobarbital. He continued down the label, realizing the pills were supposed to have been finished by the first week of January.
"What are you doing?" Jackie yawned, entering the bedroom and picking up a piece of toast of the plate. "Oh."
"What are these?" Mark questioned, holding them in front of her.
"Just pills, okay?" she said roughly, reaching out for them. "Can I have them?"
"I asked you what they were."
"Jesus Mark, just give me the fucking pills," she practically shouted at him, still holding her head.
"Are they drugs?" he asked, staring at her.
"What does it matter?"
"I want to know. I think I have a right to know," he said shakily.
"Fine Mark. They're barbiturates. Happy now?" She grabbed the bottle from him. "It's not what it looks like."
Mark said nothing and brushed past her into the living room. "If you want to kill yourself be my guest. Roger sure as hell almost did," he said bitterly.
"I only take them once in a while, just so I can relax—"
"They're fucking drugs, Jackie. That's exactly what Roger used to say to me too. You're killing yourself."
Jackie glared at him and stalked into the living room, still holding her head in pain. "You know what? Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad way to go."
"You don't mean that."
"Since when do you know everything about me?" she yelled at him, wincing a little. "Because—you don't. You want to play ancient history, Mark? Step right up!"
"Whatever," he said, crossing his arms against his chest. He then stood up and grabbed his coat, shoving it on roughly. "I'm going out."
"Good," she screamed after him angrily as the loft door slammed. "Bastard." She reentered their bedroom and quickly changed into a tank top and loose dance pants before slipping on her pointe shoes. She realized that this probably wasn't the wisest thing to do in the midst of a hangover, but dancing was how she got her frustrations out and Mark had definitely driven her to that point.
She did a few warm up stretches in order to get her muscles loose. The fact that she hadn't danced in over a week and a half wasn't helping much either. She realized that taking barbiturates was dangerous if you took more than you were prescribed, but a lot of the girls at dance had been taking them to relax and get some sleep after crazy rehearsal schedules. It wasn't a head on addiction—they were just something she had to take every once in awhile when she was stressed out.
Half an hour later, she was nailing combination after combination, surprisingly. She hadn't expected to dance like she was today, and she wasn't even putting a lot of effort into it at all. Ballet used to be something that she loved—and now, she wasn't so sure anymore.
Her cell phone started ringing again, and she stopped and quickly ran to dig it out of her bag.
"Hello?" she spoke, breathlessly.
"Hi Jackie, it's Mrs. Murphy."
"Hi, how are you doing?" Jackie realized automatically that she probably shouldn't have asked that question.
"Well—we're coping honey. Listen, the reason I called was to invite you to Natalie's memorial this coming weekend, on the 16th."
"In Boston?" Jackie asked, adjusting the volume on the stereo to hear better.
"No, we've decided to have it in Nantucket, on the beach. You know how much she loved the beach."
"Yeah, I do. I remember when we went to Sydney…she loved it."
"I know. I just wanted to see if you'd be able to make it…and Harvey too, although I can't seem to get a hold of him."
"Of course I'll make it. I'll probably get a flight out of Newark to Boston and then change planes to Nantucket, it's nothing." She sat down on the couch and tucked her feet underneath her. "Harvey's in Los Angeles, but I'll definitely give him a call and have him come with me."
"Thank you honey."
"You're welcome."
"Well, we'll probably be heading back to Boston that same night, but you're more than welcome to stay at our beach house. Just let me know and I'll have the keys with me."
"That sounds wonderful. Thank you so much, Mrs. Murphy."
"I know Natalie would appreciate it. Okay, well I have to make a few other calls, but I'll let you go now. Take care of yourself."
"You too." Natalie ended the call just as Mark entered the loft, holding a bag of bagels.
"Who was that?" he asked, setting the bag on the kitchen counter.
"Oh…Natalie's mom. She invited us to her memorial in Nantucket this Saturday," Jackie answered, walking into the kitchen. She took a seat on the barstool and started untying her pointe shoes slowly. "You don't have to go if you don't want to."
"I want to," Mark said. "I'll go with you."
"Kay." Jackie rested her shoes on top of the counter as Mark continued looking at her.
"I'm sorry," he announced. "I just don't want you hurting yourself."
"I know. I'm sorry that I exploded at you before," she said. Mark walked over and kissed her forehead and then her lips.
"I love you, and I really am sorry."
"I love you too, and stop apologizing," she smiled, pulling the bagel bag towards her.
"That's the first time you said it," he acknowledged, grabbing the cream cheese from the fridge.
"Yeah. I know, but I meant it. Did you mean it?" she asked, pulling a sesame seed bagel out and setting it onto the plate in front of her.
"I did. Did you?"
"Yeah."
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Mimi yawned and stretched out on the bed, shifting the blankets off of her.
"Sleep well?"
She turned her head to find Roger poking his head out of the bathroom, a toothbrush in his mouth and a towel wrapped around his waist. "Yeah. What time is it?"
"Almost five. Your aunt came up before and said you…well, better get to the hospital as soon as you could," he said slowly, spitting some toothpaste out into the sink.
"Jesus, it's five? Why didn't you wake me?" she asked, rubbing her eyes before standing. "All this kid does is sit on my bladder. Move…I gotta go."
Roger looked at her oddly and stepped out of the way, laughing. "I hope our child isn't gonna be a brat."
Mimi shook her head and slammed the bathroom door, coming out a few minutes later to find Roger still laughing at her. "I'm assuming you're laughing at me, and not with me?"
"Well, you're not laughing at all, so I guess I am laughing at you," he said, pulling on a pair of jeans. She slumped back over to the bed and collapsed on it, pulling the blanket over her head, along with the pillow.
"Stop making fun of me. My boobs hurt, my head hurts, my legs hurt, my back hurts…and you, you just—"
"Your boobs hurt?" Roger asked. He started laughing again, and Mimi pulled the blanket off of her face and threw the pillow at him.
"You're so immature."
"I'm sure I could find a way to make them not hurt," he suggested seductively.
"No." She walked over to the dresser and started brushing her hair out, and Roger wrapped his arms around her waist.
"Sorry," he said, kissing her cheek.
"I'm so fat. I'm gonna look like the doughboy's cousin by September," she whined. Roger laughed and moved his hand up to her stomach.
"Whose cousin?"
"The doughboy. You know, the Pillsbury doughboy?" Roger shrugged. " Roger, the fricken doughboy. The one where you poke his belly and he goes…woo hoo!"
"Woo hoo?" Roger grinned and poked Mimi's belly. "Do it."
"What? No," she laughed, moving his hand away.
"Say it."
"No."
"Say it," he laughed, starting to tickle her.
"Roger! Davis! ROGER!" she shouted at him, ducking out from under his hands. "You're such a pervert."
"But a 25 year old pervert is better than a 16 year old one," he said, defending himself.
"Yeah, okay, daddy," she joked.
"Daddy? I like the sound of that," he grinned again. "When do we find out what it is again?"
"Beginning of April. Next month. Probably by the time we get back from Hawaii," she smiled. "I'm excited."
"So am I."
"Really?"
"Yup, because then we can shop for it and everything. Decorate the nursery."
Mimi smirked at him and tousled his hair. "You're so painting, buddy."
"Uh…"
"That's what I thought. I can sit and supervise. Do I look too pregnant in this?" she asked him, running her hands over her shirt.
"Nope. Seriously. I don't think anyone's gonna realize, unless you tell them. You are going to tell them, right?" he asked.
"My mom already knows. If she remembers, I'll be surprised. When did my boobs get so big?" she added, pushing them up slightly with her hands. Roger smirked at her, and Mimi noticed. "Okay pervert, tell Lil' Roger to calm down."
"C'mon baby, don't be such a tease," he whispered in her ear, kissing her neck.
"Later, I swear. We'll do it wherever you want," she said laughing, placing her hands around his neck."
"Wherever?" he questioned, his eyes lightening up a little. "JACUZZI!"
"I hope I'm not gonna regret this. Seriously though, we have to be quiet."
"Quiet and me do not belong in the same sentence."
"Roger I'm serious. I don't need an audience listening to us have sex."
"Okay, I'll try…but you just turn me on so much."
Mimi rolled her eyes and kissed him before walking away. "We need to leave for the hospital."
"Oooh shot down," he laughed. "How do we go about getting to the hospital?"
"By cab. It's not a big deal, I'll call one," she added, picking up the phone in their room.
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"Patient name?"
"Lorenzo Marquez," Mimi said, conversing in Spanish with the nurse.
"3rd floor, ward 2, Room 58."
"Thank you." Roger placed his arm protectively on Mimi's hip as they walked down the hall. "You'll be great."
"I hope so." The reached the room, and Mimi paused outside the door. "Can you wait outside?"
"Sure." Roger leaned down to kiss her before she walked in. "I'll be right here."
"Thanks." Mimi stepped inside the dim room, locating her father in the second bed near the window. "Papa?" she called out, taking a seat on the edge of the hospital bed.
His eyes opened slowly and he attempted a small smile when he saw Mimi, reaching out to take her hand. "Mimi…you came."
Mimi smiled and placed her own hand over his. "I did."
"You just missed your…mother."
"Aunt Sofia told me. How do you feel?" She asked, smoothing the blanket over his legs.
"Not so good. I'm so glad you came to see me. I missed you."
Mimi bit her lip and nodded. "I missed you too."
"How's…New York?"
"Good, I like it."
"That's good." He closed his eyes briefly before reopening them again. "Have you seen…your mother?"
"No, not yet, but I will."
"Good…she told me…that you're having a…baby," he said slowly, coughing a little bit.
Mimi nodded and smiled again. "I am."
"A girl…or…a boy…?"
"I don't know yet. I'll find out next month."
"You're going…to have a little girl. I can feel it."
"Okay Papa."
"Did you bring…the baby's father…with you?" he said, breathing shallowly. Mimi knew this was taking a lot out of him.
"I did."
"That's…good. I love you Mimi."
"I love you too," she answered, wiping her eyes with her free hand.
"Never forget that. The past is forgotten."
"Okay." Mimi felt him gently squeeze her hand and then drift off to sleep. "I love you," she whispered, bending over to kiss his forehead. She then curled up against him and laid on the bed for the next twenty minutes, until she figured that Roger was probably either lost or restless outside in the hall. As she sat up, she noticed that the heart monitor had drawn a completely straight line on the screen. "Asystole," she said quietly. Running her fingers through his hair, she bent down to kiss his hand before walking out of the room.
She found Roger sitting against the wall at the end of the hall, flipping through a version of Rolling Stone in complete Spanish. He stood up as soon as he saw her and walked over to her. "Hey."
"That's it," she responded. He nodded and pulled her against him, rocking her back and forth gently.
"I'm sorry," he added, running his hands up her back.
"So am I." She wiped her eyes against his shirt and laughed a little. "I kind of got your shirt wet."
"It's not a big deal."
Mimi rested her head against his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her waist, leading him down the hall again. "I want to go home," she whispered.
"Okay. Whatever you want baby. I don't mind."
"Thank you. I don't want to stay for the funeral. I just want to go home. I want to see my mother and then go home."
Roger nodded and kissed her head. "Anything."
So take me and break me and make me strong like you
I'll be forever grateful to this and you
It's only you, beautiful.
Or I don't want anyone
if I can choose it's only you.
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Mimi and Roger arrived at Mimi's father's house about twenty minutes later. "She should be here. Then we can get a cab to the airport." She rang the doorbell." Can you call the airport and try to find a flight out of here? I'll give you the number."
"Sure."
The door opened, and a small woman with hair just as curly as Mimi's appeared, a smile across her face. "Mimi, you're here! When did you get here, chica?"
"This morning, early," Mimi answered, as her mother gave her a hug. "Mama, this is Roger."
"Hi Roger, I'm Mimi's mother, Benita." She also gave him a hug as well.
"Nice to meet you," he greeted.
"Well, come in. Carl's out with your uncle Juan and everyone else is out with Celeste. The hospital called, did you—"
"Yeah, I was there when he died."
"Okay."
'You can go make the phone call, baby," Mimi suggested, pointing in the direction of the kitchen. Roger nodded and left the room.
"He seems very nice, and handsome," Benita laughed as Mimi smiled.
"Yeah. He is."
"So when are you leaving?"
"Tonight, actually. Roger's on the phone with the airlines right now," she said politely.
"I see. I'm glad that you're here, because your father wanted me to give this to you," she said, picking up an envelope off the coffee table. She handed it to Mimi. "Open it."
"Okay." Mimi slit the envelope open and was shocked at what she found.
Mimi—
I know I haven't been a good father to you all these years, but now, as I'm reaching my last days, I want to leave you with something to provide for you family. I don't know what else to say, although that I'm sorry for running off on you and your mother. I do love you, always have. Please take care of yourself.
Love,
Papa
"Mama…this is a check for…for…$400,000," she said shakily, double-checking the numbers on the check.
Benita nodded. "I know."
"Mom. $400, 000."
"I know, chica," Benita laughed. "Your sisters all received the same. I even received one."
"What am I—what am I supposed to do with this?"
"Renovate that place you live in, perhaps. Buy things for the baby."
"I just wanted to let you know now that I'm not going to the funeral."
"I see. I can't force you."
"I know, but I don't think it's my place.
"It's your decision. I'm not saying anything."
"Thank you."
"Mmhmm. I understand that you need to be going, but your sisters and I are throwing a surprise 19th birthday party for Veronica next month. We'd like you to come."
"I guess."
"Mimi."
"Okay, I'll come," Mimi answered edgily.
"That's more like it."
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"Mark do you have any more Tylenol?" Jackie asked from the bathroom.
"Check the second shelf of the medicine cabinet. There should be more there."
"Roger?" Jackie laughed. "One's labeled Roger."
"Yeah—well, he can tolerate more alcohol than I've ever seen anyone choke down, so I figured he deserves his own bottle."
"That's just because you're a lightweight, Marky. I can drink you under the table and then some."
"As you characteristically proved the yesterday…"
"When Roger gets back I'm putting him up to a drinking contest," Jackie added, devilishly.
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"I do. It's on," she said. "Mark, I can't find it, and my head hurts."
"Then take some out of Roger's."
"He only has like…one left."
"Then take it and I'll get more from the store."
"Kay." Jackie down the pill and walked out of the bathroom. "Get the phone."
"You."
"Fine." Jackie reached lazily for the phone and picked it up.
"Hello?"
"It's the Jac-ster. How goes it," Roger asked, yelling into the phone.
"Uh…it goes? Why are you yelling into the phone?"
"Because we're in the airport waiting for our flight to start boarding for Washington."
"You're coming home already?"
"Yeah. We should be home tomorrow morning around 6 AM, I guess. Having fun with Marky? You guys taking advantage of the empty loft? There's gonna be competition tomorrow night."
Jackie laughed as she heard Mimi yelling at him for being a "pervert". "Sure. Hey Davis, I have a challenge for you."
"Shoot."
"I bet…$20 I can drink you under the table."
"Hah. Fuck that. I can outdrink you like it's nothing. $40."
"Deal. You're on."
"You're going down, Ferrell. What's Mark up to?"
"He's editing scripts. Wanna talk to him?" Mark looked up and shrugged.
"Nah."
"Oh, okay."
"Alright, well our plane's boarding, so we'll see you guys tomorrow."
"Later." Jackie hung up the phone and grabbed a script from Mark, flipping through it. "Do you really want to do this right now?"
Mark laughed and shook his head. "Not really. Got any other ideas?"
"Hmm…yeah, one or two," she winked.
"I thought you said you didn't feel good?"
"I didn't, but now I changed my mind. Wanna take me up on it?"
"I don't know, I really need to finish these…"
"Mark."
Mark laughed and scooped her up, running with her towards the bedroom. "You got it."
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NEXT UP: Roger and Jackie's drinking contest, Natalie's memorial, Mimi's surprise.
NOTE: Asystole refers to no sinus rhythm of the heart. Sorry, I'm an ER freak too lol.