A/N: I feel absolutely dreadful for taking so long with this chapter. All I can say is that the end of high school is very time-consuming. But all that is over. I had a very odd time writing this chapter. It was full of surprises. I actually had Mark dialogue written in before I realized that he needed to be with his family. Roger's phone conversation with his family was a big surprise to me as well. And I didn't know that his parents were still together and happy until I saw it on paper. This is mostly a filler chapter, but it's a filler with purpose. I want to establish a theme of Christmas Eve being a kind of check point for where they are in their lives. We'll see how it goes. And if you're wondering why we get to see both sides of Roger's phone conversations and not Benny's, it's because this is third person limited focused on Roger. Handy things, viewpoints.

"Yes, Alison, seven o' clock is fine. No, no, that's not too late for dinner. Don't worry; I can't wait to meet your whole family, baby. Okay, I'll see you tomorrow. I love you too. Of course not. Really, Alison, do you actually think I own any tacky ties? I've got a better sense of style than that, baby. Merry Christmas Eve to you, too. Bye." Benny hung up the phone and turned to face his friends. "Does Mickey Mouse in a Santa suit qualify as tacky?"

"Yes," came the unanimous reply of Collins and Roger. Collins was stretched out on the couch reading Flatland and Roger was tuning his guitar. Mark was in Scarsdale with Maureen, visiting his family for the holidays. Benny was heading to the refrigerator when the phone rang again.

"Probably Alison remembering something she needed to tell me. She hates when we screen," he remarked, and picked up the phone. "Oh hey, Mark. What's up?"

"Let me talk to him before you hang up," called out Roger.

"Sure thing, Rog. So, Mark, why are you on the phone instead of bonding with your family? It can't be that bad. She's not flirting; Maureen's just very outgoing. So she's not Jewish, they'll get over it. No, you cannot sneak out tonight and drive back here. As your roommate of the past four and a half years, I command you to stay. Why? Because your mom always sends you back with lots of food and you are not leaving until you get it because we're not letting you in without it. Your mom may be annoying, Mark, but nobody can bake brownies like that woman. So quit whining and get in the holiday spirit. It's only for a few days. Courage, man. Okay — oh, hey, wait. Roger wanted to talk to you. Hold on." Benny handed off the phone to Roger and walked back toward the refrigerator.

"Hey, Mark! Hangin' in there okay?" Roger greeted his friend enthusiastically as he picked up the phone.

"I guess," sighed Mark.

"Don't let suburbia get you down, Mark!" called Collins from the couch.

"You hear Collins?" asked Roger."

Mark laughed. "Yeah, I heard him."

"Good. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that Rick just called and he's moving the Well Hungarians to Saturday in the new year."

"That's great, Roger!"

"Yeah, isn't it? And we've got some gigs lined up for a few other venues, too."

"Congratulations. That's awesome."

"Yeah, I'm pretty psyched. We'll all go out and celebrate when you get back."

"It seems like you have some reason for us to go out and celebrate just about every week," teased Mark.

"Hey, you know me. I never pass up a chance to party."

"That's the truth."

"All right, now you get off that phone and go be a good son, unlike the rest of us here," ordered Roger.

"Do I have to?" Mark whined. Roger rolled his eyes. Luckily, Mark couldn't see this or he surely would have commented.

"Well, at least go keep Maureen company. And make sure you don't leave there without some of your mom's food."

"Will do. See you."

"Later."

Roger hung up the phone and sat down on the couch. He began to reach for his guitar but paused and pulled back his arm, looking thoughtful. He sighed.

"I should really call my parents," he remarked to no one in particular.

"Then call them," replied Collins, looking up from his book. "When was the last time they heard from you?"

Roger shrugged. "I sent them a postcard when I moved in here."

"You're pathetic," chuckled Collins.

"I don't know. I might call them tomorrow. Maybe. If I feel like it."

Roger didn't bother trying to explain why he didn't want to talk to his parents. He didn't really understand it himself. His parents were caring and likeable and incredibly normal.

Roger didn't want to be normal.

"Hey, Benny," called Roger, "could you bring me a beer while you're up?"

"Sure thing," replied Benny as the phone began to ring again. "My god, the phone bill's going to be higher than the rent if we keep going at this rate."

"Just screen," advised Collins, and the answering machine picked up.

"Roger, honey? It's your mother."

Without thinking about what he was doing, Roger jumped up and picked up the phone.

"Hey, mom. I was just telling my roommate that I was going to call you tomorrow," Roger remarked, stretching the truth a bit.

"Of course you were, sweetheart," replied his mom, her tone gently teasing.

"No, really, I was."

"Well, now you're off the hook," she said with a laugh. "I wanted to go ahead and call you tonight because your grandparents are coming over tomorrow and I wasn't sure that we'd get a chance to call you, your father and I will be so busy."

"Oh, yeah, where is dad?"

"He went out to buy a few last-minute things for tomorrow. He should be back soon, though. I'll get him on the phone when he gets in."

"Okay." Roger felt awkward. Despite the fact that he hadn't talked to his mother in months, he couldn't come up with anything to say.

"So, tell me, do you have any plans for tomorrow? Maybe a date with that Sophie girl?"

Roger laughed. "Sofia. But no, we broke up months ago. I don't have a girlfriend right now. I've gone a few dates, but nothing serious."

"Well, you let me know when you find someone."

"You'll be the first to know, mom," Roger replied with a grin.

"You're sweet, but don't lie to your poor mother. I know I'll be the last to know, but that's alright, as long as I find out sometime."

"Sorry, mom."

"Oh, that's alright, dear. So what are you doing tomorrow, then?"

"Well, my band's playing a Christmas party. It's paying pretty well. Should be a good gig."

"That's wonderful, Roger. Are you still sharing an apartment with that Mark boy and his friends?"

"Yeah. They're great. It's working out really well."

"I'm so glad. Well, your father just walked in. Do you want to talk to him?"

"Sure."

"Okay, I love you. Call me some time. And have a merry Christmas."

"You too, mom."

"Here's your dad."

"Hey there, stranger!" His father's pleased tone of surprise made Roger smile and feel guilty at the same time.

"Hey, dad."

"So, how's life going? Got a good job yet?"

"I don't really have a serious job, no, but I bartend a lot. And the band's been doing really well. We're playing a lot more now."

"Are you making enough to get by?"

"Yeah. I mean, money's tight, but with three roommates to split the rent and stuff with, well, we pull through."

"Good, good. Of course, we want you to be independent but, you know, if you ever need anything, we're here for you."

"Thanks. I know. But thing are going okay right now."

"All right, well, your mom's waving for me to come help her in the kitchen. I'd better go see what she needs before I get in trouble. Have a merry Christmas tomorrow, son. We'll talk to you later."

"Bye, dad. Merry Christmas."