Mimi slowly opened her eyes the next morning to find Roger's arm draped around her waist, wide awake. He had been watching her sleep.
Mimi yawned and smiled. "Hi, baby."
"Hey," he said gently, poking her in the side. "You feeling better?"
"Huh?"
"You seemed pretty upset last night."
"Oh. It was nothing…I got into a fight with Terry over…my salary."
Roger frowned. "I thought you had sorted it all out with him."
Mimi shrugged. "Nothing's ever final with Terry."
Roger raised his eyebrows, but said nothing more. "Are you sure everything's okay?"
"Yes!" she said again, annoyed. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"I don't know," Roger said. "I just feel like there's something you're not telling me," he said softly, stroking my hair.
Mimi kissed him gently. "There's nothing, baby."
Liar, she said to herself.
She hated lying to Roger. It nearly tore her apart to see him look at me like that…so trusting…so believing. If he only knew.
Roger stretched and rolled out of the bed. "You want me to make us some breakfast or something?"
Mimi raised my eyebrows at him. "Since when can you cook?"
"Since now," he shrugged.
She laughed. "Okay, Emeril. What's on the menu today?"
"I don't know…we have frozen waffles on the fridge…they haven't been in there too long…and we have bacon. I can fry bacon on the stove. And uh…orange juice!"
Mimi smiled, admiring his effort to please her. "I'm not very hungry?"
"You're not?" he looked disappointed.
"Well…I guess I'll have a waffle," she said, although truthfully she would have much rather pulled the covers back over her head and gone back to sleep.
"Okay!" he said, satisfied. "Give me ten minutes?"
Mimi yawned. "No problem."
He grinned. "Okay. It'll be ready in a little while."
"Alright," she said, sleepily.
Roger kissed her on the cheek and quietly left the room.
Mimi lay her head back down on her pillow, and closed her eyes.
***
Mimi opened her eyes again, startled to realize she had fallen asleep.
She pushed the covers away from her and looked at the night-table beside her. On it was a plastic plate with a waffle lying on top of it. Syrup and all.
Smiling, Mimi saw that Roger had left a little note next to the plate.
Meems,
I left this out for you because I
didn't want you to go hungry.
Hopefully by the time you wake
up and read this note it won't
have gone TOO cold…I didn't
want to wake you, so I took the
fender and went to Central Park
just to relax, maybe write some
new stuff. Eat up- those waffles
were toasted with love.
Love, Roger
Mimi shook her head, smiling to herself. He was so corny. She loved him for it.
She picked up the plastic fork that Roger had left nestled on the plate, and dug into her waffles.
***
"Hello?" Roger called, as he stepped back into the Loft an hour later, his guitar tucked under his arm.
"I'm in here!" Mimi called from the bathroom. She had her bare leg up against the side of the bathtub, and had smothered her calf in pink liquid.
"What the hell is that smell?" Roger asked as he walked into the bathroom. Mimi had left the door open for him.
"It's cranberries," Mimi replied, working it into a lather around her ankles.
Roger made a face. "Doesn't smell like cranberries. What the hell are you doing?"
"Shaving," Mimi answered, as she dragged the pink plastic razor down the side of her leg.
Roger stared at her, not saying anything.
Mimi paused and looked up at him. "I can't do this with you staring at me like that."
"Sorry," Roger said, quickly.
Mimi shook her head. "It's okay. Could you hand me that towel, over there?"
Roger handed her the towel.
"Thanks," Mimi said, placing the towel underneath her knee. "How was your walk?"
"Pretty good. I didn't really get to write much down. Some nutty clothing vendor started chasing me around the benches, so finally I just decided to give it up and leave.
"I don't blame you," Mimi said, as she scraped the razor around her ankles.
Roger winced, hearing the sound of the blade rubbing against her skin. "You're not mad at me for leaving, are you?" he asked.
"Why would I be mad?"
"I don't know…just the fact that I didn't tell you before I left."
Mimi smiled, primly. "I don't really think that would have been possible. I was out like a light."
Roger snickered.
"What?"
"Out like a light?" he mocked, grinning at her.
"What? You've never heard of similes?"
"I've heard of similes. That was just a really bad one."
"Fuck you," she flicking a splash of water his way.
Roger moved to the side quickly, and the droplets of water plopped onto the bathroom floor. Roger reached out with his shoe and wiped it against the carpet.
"Fuck!" he heard Mimi say.
He turned. "What?"
"I nicked myself," she said, putting the razor down by the side of the tub. "Shit, these things do sting," she groaned.
"Oh, hey, hold on a sec," Roger said, turning to the drawer underneath the sink. "One moment…here it is," he declared, pulling out a canister of old band-aids decorated with old Disney characters. "You get your pick. Mickey Mouse or Snow White."
Mimi smiled. "I'll take Mickey."
"You want me to put it on for you?" Roger offered.
"Nah, I can do it," Mimi said, reaching forward for the band-aid. As she reached forward with her arm, her sleeve rode up so it was up above her elbow, revealing what were obvious bruises.
"What are those?" Roger asked, frowning.
"They're…nothing…"
"Did you hurt yourself?" he asked, puzzled.
"No, I…I fell. I tripped over an old crate backstage during a costume change. I fell on my arm."
Roger still looked unconvinced. "Even so…" he was quiet for a moment.
Mimi shrugged limply and looked at the floor. "I'm just a big klutz," she said, refusing to look him in the eye.
"You know what those look like…" Roger said, frowning.
"What?" Mimi asked nervously.
"They look just like track marks," Roger said, quietly.
They were both silent for a moment.
Without thinking, Mimi decided to get defensive with Roger, even though she knew he was right. "What are you saying?" she snapped.
"Nothing…it's just…"
"You think I can't take care of myself? That I can't take responsibility?"
"I didn't say that…I just…"
"Forget it," Mimi growled, standing to her feet. Of course, she knew that she was lying to him. But the fact that Roger didn't seem to trust her anyway was hurtful. "I'm going to go to work early tonight."
"Mimi, I don't think you should tonight," Roger cut in, grabbing her arm.
Mimi gave him a fiery look. If looks could kill, Roger would have been six feet under right then. "I'm going," she said, coldly, wrenching her arm out of his grasp.
Roger stood in silence, dumbfounded as Mimi gathered up her clothes and pulled on her black leather boots.
"Bye," she said curtly as she rushed passed him and out the door.
The sound of the door slamming was almost as cold as the tone of Mimi's voice.
Roger chewed his lower lip nervously, trying to piece together what had just happened.
It was your own fault, he scolded himself. You shouldn't have mentioned it. Mimi's done with that stuff-she's clean now.
And now she was mad at him.
Roger sighed and glanced at his watch. Mimi had left early. So generally she would be out later than usual.
Idiot, Roger told himself again, shaking his head. He kicked at the wall stubbornly and sat on the couch, holding his head in his hands.
***
Author's Note: You think that was bad? Just wait until next chapter…you guys are going to all hate me. It's all good though. I've got my bitches for support. (A.K.A wifey 1 and wifey 2.)