JANUARY 18
"Meems?" Roger whispered into Mimi's sleeping ear.
"Mmmph?"
"You've gotta get up, babe. We've got to go to the doctor. For the ultrasound, remember?"
"Ugh. Yes," Mimi grumbled, pulling her pillow over her head.
"Mee-Mee," Roger said in a sing-song voice, tugging at her arm.
Without getting up, Mimi tossed the pillow at him.
"Seriously, Mimi, you've gotta get dressed," Roger said, catching the pillow.
"Why do I have to get up TODAY?" Mimi groaned. "I feel like shit. I'm tired as hell. I was up at two in the morning last night heaving my guts into the toilet."
Roger made a face. "Thanks for the imagery. Besides, you're usually up at that time anyway."
Mimi shut her eyes, not answering.
Roger sighed. He'd known that sooner or later he'd have to prepare himself for Mimi's mood swings.
"Mimi," he said again, gently. "You have to get up. Don't you wanna make sure the baby's healthy?"
"Why don't you dress me, then?" Mimi snapped, sarcastically.
Roger shrugged his shoulders. "When in Rome," he began to tug on one of the pant legs of her flannel pajamas.
"Okay, okay! I'm up," Mimi grumbled, sitting up. "Toss me that skirt hanging in the closet? The black one?"
Roger obeyed, and threw the black leather skirt in her direction.
"Pretty soon I'm going to be too big to fit into these," Mimi mumbled, as she slid on the skirt.
"That's the spirit," Roger joked. "Way to be optimistic, Meems."
"Excuse me, but I didn't hear you tossing YOUR dinner into the toilet last night," Mimi replied, as she pulled a white tank top over her head.
"True," Roger agreed, glancing at the clock by the bed. "We've gotta go soon, Meems."
"Hold your horses. I'm a pregnant woman, for crying out loud!"
"Mimi, you're not even two months along yet," Roger grinned. "Just wait until May. THEN you can complain about having to hurry up."
"Doesn't matter how far along I am," Mimi said, a hair clip dangling from her lower lip. She twisted her hair into a messy ponytail, and slid the clip in behind her ear. "I still have YOUR kid inside me."
"OUR kid," he corrected her.
Mimi sighed. "I still can't believe I'm going to be a mother," she said, shaking her head.
"Yeah. I can't wait," Roger said, smiling at her.
Mimi smiled back, sheepishly.
"You done yet?" he asked her, as she slid her feet into her high heeled boots.
"Yup," she replied, standing up from the bed. "Let's go."
***
"I always hate it here," Mimi whispered to Roger, as they sat side by side in the waiting room.
"Why?" Roger whispered back.
"Because whenever you're in here, everyone is in pain."
"Not necessarily," an elderly woman said, who was next to Roger. She had overheard the conversation.
"Excuse me?" Roger said, blinking.
"I said, not everyone in here is necessarily in pain," she repeated.
"What do you mean?" Mimi asked.
"Well, take you for example. You're not in pain. You're going to have a baby."
"How'd you know?" Roger asked, bewildered.
The lady smiled. "You're young. And neither of you appear to be seriously hurt. So I just assumed it was so."
She smiled and nodded her head towards Mimi. "How far along are you, dear?"
"Just about six weeks," said Mimi.
The woman smiled and nodded.
"Why are you in here?" Roger asked her.
The woman smiled, faintly. "I have leukemia. I'm going in for chemotherapy."
"I'm sorry," Mimi said, softly.
The woman shrugged. "Don't be. This ain't real, anyway," she said, tugging at her gray hair to show them that it was a wig.
"Mimi Marquez?" a nurse at the doorway inquired.
"Coming," Mimi said quickly, standing to her feet.
She turned back to the old woman. "It was nice meeting you. Good luck," she added.
"Thank you, dear. You too. You live a long, happy life together, you hear?"
Mimi smiled, weakly. "Thank you."
"Miss Marquez?" the nurse called, from the door.
"Coming," Mimi said again.
Roger stood up, grabbing both his and Mimi's jackets.
"Goodbye," he said to the old woman, and she nodded, and smiled.
"And you are?" the nurse asked Roger, as he and Mimi approached her.
"He's my boyfriend," Mimi said, quickly. "The father."
"Well, naturally, I would presume," the nurse said, humored. "Follow me."
She led the two of them down the hall, past men and women, both young and old in wheelchairs, or stretchers, or using walkers.
Mimi bit her lip nervously. She hated hospitals. The only times she'd been in one was when Joel had shot her, and when she had found out she was positive.
"In here," the nurse said, finally stopping at a door. "Doctor Eledge will be in in a moment."
"Thank you," Roger said, as she closed the door behind her.
Mimi lifted herself onto the exam bed and Roger sat down on a stool beside her.
A moment later, the doctor entered the room.
"Hello, Miss Marquez. Mister Marquez, I assume?" she asked, looking at Roger.
Roger blushed. "Um, no. Just her boyfriend."
"Oh, I see. I'm Dr. Eledge. So you're in for your six week check up, huh?"
"Yup," Mimi said, glancing around, nervously.
"You nervous?"
"Well, it's my first time doing this," Mimi said, forcing a small smile.
"That's understandable. I can see how you would be a little nervous." She took a wide metal object from one of the lower drawers.
"What's that?" Roger asked.
"It's a speculum, Rog," Mimi told him.
"A what?"
"A speculum. You know . . . to check out things down there."
"Oh?" he looked interested, instead of disgusted.
Mimi rolled her eyes, and sighed as the doctor neared her with the object.
"I think you know how this works out, Mimi," the doctor said, giving her a somewhat sympathetic look.
"I know," Mimi sighed, beginning to unzip her skirt.
"Do I have to stay?" Roger asked, his eyes wide.
"No, you're perfectly free to leave," Dr. Eledge assured him.
"No, it's okay. I think I should stay," he said, quickly.
"Pervert," Mimi grumbled, as she laid down on the table.
"Hey, I'm your boyfriend. This stuff isn't new to me."
"You ready, Mimi?" the doctor asked.
Mimi winced. "Do I have a choice?"
"Okay. Here we go."
A moment later, Mimi began to pull her skirt back on, and Dr. Eledge had moved over to the sink to wash her hands.
Roger was still seated on the stool, his eyes twice the size they had been when he had first entered the room.
"Okay, Mimi, now I'm going to check the baby's heartbeat. This should be a bit more pleasant than the previous procedure."
"Alright," Mimi said.
Dr. Eledge took out her stethoscope.
"Roll your shirt up, just a bit?" she asked.
Mimi did.
"Okay," Dr. Eledge said, placing the stethoscope onto Mimi's stomach.
As she listened, she chewed her lip, and appeared to be in deep concentration. "Hmm," she said.
"Is everything alright?" Roger asked.
"Yes, everything is fine. I hear a steady heartbeat," she said, slowly. She placed the stethoscope in another position and listened again. The corners of her mouth slowly turned up into a smile.
"What is it?" Mimi asked, impatiently.
"Well," Dr. Eledge said, as she put away the stethoscope. "I don't hear just one healthy heartbeat- I hear TWO healthy hartbeats."
It took Mimi a moment to process what had just been said.
Roger, however, was right on target.
"Oh, fuck . . ." he said, slowly.
"Roger!" Mimi hissed.
"Miss Marquez, it appears you are having twins," Dr. Eledge said, smiling.
Mimi's eyes widened. "I AM?"
She nodded.
Mimi turned to Roger, an amused look on her face. "We're having twins."
"We did a nice job."
"We did," she giggled.
"Alright, Mimi, there's just a few more questions I need to ask the both of you," Dr. Eledge said, taking out a clipboard and a pencil. "Are you and Roger sexually active, currently?"
"Well, no," Mimi said, slowly. "Aren't you not supposed to . . . do it, when you're pregnant?"
An amused smile came over Dr. Eledge's face.
"Actually, you CAN," she told her.
Roger's head shot up. "WHAT?"
"Until around the next trimester, it's perfectly fine to do so. You just might not be comfortable as you become farther along."
"So you're saying," Roger began, "That I have spent the last six weeks a saint for no reason?"
"One more thing I need to ask you," Dr. Eledge said to Mimi, both of them ignoring Roger.
"I've been jipped," he said, shaking his head.
"I understand you both are HIV positive?"
They both nodded, slowly.
"How many years have you been?" she asked Mimi.
Mimi chewed her lower lip. "About five years," she said, fidgeting uncomfortably.
"And you?" Dr. Eledge said, turning to Roger.
"Almost two years," he said, quietly.
"Are our babies going to be positive?" Mimi asked, quietly.
"It will be determined after they're born," Dr. Eledge told her.
"But there is a chance they might be?" she asked, softly.
She nodded. "But then again, there's always a chance they might not be, also."
Mimi nodded.
Dr. Eledge took another glance at her clipboard. "How have you been feeling in general?"
"Well, the morning sickness is making me feel like shit, if that's what you're asking," Mimi said, a small smile on her face.
"That's expected. But other than that?"
Mimi shook her head.
"And you're still taking your AZT?"
Mimi nodded. "Am I supposed to?"
"Yes. And I'm going to prescribe for you two other pills as well for you to take. We call it 'The Triple Cocktail.' It's just to prevent the HIV from spreading, and slowing it down."
"Alright," Mimi said, as Dr. Eledge scribbled down the name for her. She ripped a piece of paper from her clipboard. "You can fill the prescription out here," she said, handing it to Mimi. "Do you have any other questions?"
Mimi shook her head.
"Okay," Dr. Eledge said, smiling. "I guess I'll see you when you have your next check up. In about two or three months. It's nice to have met you."
"You too," Mimi said, smiling, as she hopped of the examination table.
Roger waved, and opened the door for Mimi.
"You want to fill the prescription now?" he asked her.
She nodded.
Roger let out a whoosh of air. "So, was it as bad as you thought it would be?"
"No," Mimi admitted. She paused, and a smile came over her face. "Shit, Roger, we're having TWINS."
Roger grinned. "I know." He wrapped his arms around her waist and bent down to kiss her. Then he knelt down so his head was level with her abdomen.
"You guys don't give your mom to much trouble in there, you hear?" he said, pretending to knock on her stomach.
Mimi giggled. "Rog, people are staring."
"So what?" he said, standing to his feet. "I'm going to be a father. I have a right to be crazily excited."
"Yeah. Soon you'll be losing your hair and everything," Mimi teased.
Roger's ran his hand through his hair. "Don't even JOKE about that," he said, a serious look on his face.
Mimi laughed. "C'mon, let's go get this filled."
***
"Got any fours?" Mark asked Maureen.
"Go fish," she answered.
Mark took another card from the deck. "Shit," he mumbled, "I suck at this game."
"Don't be so hard on yourself," Jan said to him.
The three of them were in Maureen and Joanne's apartment, waiting for the news of how Mimi's check-up went. Joanne was at her niece's bat mitzvah.
"I bet it's a girl," Jan said, as she took another card from the deck.
"You're smoking," Mark told her. "It's definitely a boy."
"Well, we'll see, won't we?" she said, smiling.
"Don't smile," he said.
She frowned. "Why now?"
"Because it makes me want to make violent love to you," he said, seriously.
Maureen groaned and threw down her cards. "Jeez, Mark, you had to share that with all of us?"
"Sorry, Mo," Mark said, as he and Jan grinned sheepishly at each other.
"Forget it," Maureen groaned. She pulled her chair back away from the coffee table. "I don't feel like playing anymore. You two can finish up."
She stood up and walked away.
Mark turned to Jan. "What'd I say?"
Jan shrugged. "Guess she didn't like hearing about our sex life."
"Yeah. I'm going to make sure she's okay," Mark said, getting up from his seat. "Don't look at my cards," he joked.
Jan smiled. "I won't."
Mark found Maureen in her bedroom, sitting on her bed.
"Hey, look, I didn't mean to bring that up in front of you," Mark said, sitting down beside her. "I know it probably ticked you off because we used to be, you know . . ."
"It's not THAT, Mark," Maureen snapped, standing up and walking over to the other side of the room, not facing him.
"What is it then?" he asked, confused.
Maureen sighed. "It's just this whole baby thing . . . it makes me uncomfortable."
"You want to have a baby?"
"NO," Maureen snapped.
"Well, can you help me out here, Mo, because I have no idea what you're trying to say."
Maureen sighed, and sat back down on the bed, beside Mark.
She paused a moment before speaking. "Don't tell this to Joanne, alright?"
"Alright," he said, curious to know what she was talking about.
"Okay," Maureen took a deep breath. "I was pregnant once," she said, softly.
"What?" Mark exclaimed, not sure he was hearing her correctly.
"I said, I was pregnant once," she said, louder this time.
"I . . .God, Maureen, I . . . is it . . . was it . . ."
"You weren't the father," Maureen assured him.
Mark felt a tiny bit of relief. "Oh," he said, quietly. "Who was?" he asked.
Maureen lowered her head. "Jimmy," she whispered.
"Oh, jeez," Mark said, under his breath.
"It wasn't on purpose. Jimmy didn't have a condom with him, and he assured me everything would be fine," Maureen said, rolling her eyes.
"So . . . did you have it?" Mark asked, quietly.
"No. I had an abortion."
Mark nodded, slowly.
"You probably think I'm a real moron now," Maureen said, giving a dry chuckle.
"I don't," Mark protested.
Maureen sighed. "It's okay. I was younger. I was stupider. I didn't know what I was getting into when I first got involved with Jimmy. He was the one who urged me to have the abortion."
"You didn't want to?"
"No," Maureen said in a small voice. "That's why I'm always uncomfortable when everyone talks about the baby. I mean, I'm thrilled for them, of course. But I wanted to keep that baby," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I wanted to have a little girl of my own."
"I'm sorry," Mark said, not quite knowing what to say.
"It's not your fault. You're not the one who told me to have an abortion, are you?"
Mark could only shrug.
Maureen sighed. "The procedure didn't go to well. The place Jimmy brought me to was cheap. Unsanitary. You could walk in there sicker than you came in. The doctor was a fuck-up. I probably couldn't have kids now, even if I tried."
"I'm sorry, Mo," Mark said, quietly. "You should have told me earlier."
"I know. I should have. When I first met you, it was a few months after I had broken up with Jimmy, and I was just trying to pretend it never happened. Like there was no Jimmy. That there'd never been a baby. But I guess those ghosts always come back to haunt you, huh?"
Mark could only nod.
"Anyway," Maureen sighed. "I'm sorry to bring all this up all of a sudden. I should have told you sooner."
"It's alright," Mark assured her.
Maureen smiled. "Thanks, Mark. You know, you're probably the best friend I ever had. Even more than Joanne. Don't tell her, though," she said, smiling.
"I won't."
Mark held out a hand toward her. "You want to finish the game?"
Maureen let out a soft chuckle. "Why not?"
She took his hand, and the two of them went back into the living room, where Jan was waiting patiently with the cards.
***
"Mark? Jan? Anyone here?" Roger called, as he and Mimi entered the loft.
"Guess they're not here," he said, sounding disappointed. "I wanted to tell him the news. I guess it'll have to wait."
He walked into the kitchen, spying an envelope on the table.
"What's that?" Mimi asked, looking over his shoulder.
"Dunno. It's addressed to me, though."
"Well. Are you going to open it?"
"I'm thinking I might just stare at it."
"Dumbass. Open it," she grinned.
Roger opened it. It was an invitation.
"It's an invitation to Chad and Karmine's wedding," he said, sounding surprised.
"Oh. I almost forgot they were getting married," Mimi said.
Roger sighed, contently. "Yeah. Wonder if he'll make me his best man," he grinned at Mimi.
Mimi shrugged and walked over to the refrigerator, grabbing an orange.
"What's wrong?" he asked her.
"Nothing. It's just everywhere I go, no matter what I do, everything has to do with marriage, marriage, marriage."
"So?"
"I don't know," she said, fumbling with the orange peel. "I just thought maybe it could be something we could look into?"
"Meems, we've got two babies along the way. Don't you think we should take care of that first, and wait for the babies to be born?" Roger laughed. "You wanna run down the aisle looking like a blimp? Besides, marriage is way complicated. You don't think we're ready for it, do you?"
Mimi shrugged again, tossing the orange into the garbage, her appetite lost.
"What's the matter with you?"
Mimi whipped around. "What do you mean?" she snapped.
Roger held out his hands in front of him, in defense. "Jeez, I'm just asking you if you're okay. You just went into bitch-mode all of a sudden."
"Well I think I have a right to be a bitch, when you're making fun of me for trying to discuss a serious topic with you," she snapped.
"Meems, I didn't know you were serious," he said.
"Of course not," Mimi said, rolling her eyes.
"Would you stop doing that?" Roger demanded, getting angrier.
"Doing what?" she growled.
"THAT. Fucking snapping at everything I say."
"Well, I'm mad at you, okay?!" she yelled.
"Why? Because I don't want to juggle having kids and getting married at the same time?" he snapped.
"No, because you're not taking me seriously!"
"Mimi, we can't get married now- I mean, we've got Chad's wedding coming up, and then there's the band, and-"
"Everything's about the band, isn't it?" she growled. "Why don't we name one of the babies 'Well,' and the other one 'Hungarian?'"
"You know that's not true . . ."
"It is!" she snapped.
"God, I knew pregnant women had mood swings, but this is just ridiculous, Mimi."
"Then why don't you just go," Mimi grumbled.
"Why are you being so difficult?" he asked, exasperated.
"Because I'm pregnant and I'm entitled to be as difficult as I want to," she yelled. "And whenever I've brought up the subject of marriage, you just shrug it off!"
"Fine, you want to know why I get uncomfortable whenever you talk about getting married?" he yelled back at her.
Mimi placed her hands on her hips, waiting for an answer.
"It's because April asked me to marry her once. We were going to, too. But that obviously didn't work, did it?!" he was shouting, but Mimi could see the sadness in his eyes.
"It always goes back to April," Mimi snapped.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"She's your excuse for everything. If it's not April, it's the band."
"At least April CARED about my devotion to the band," Roger grumbled.
"And I'm worried for the babies. That they're going to be positive," Mimi continued. "I mean, if it wasn't for APRIL there wouldn't be as much of a chance."
"What?!"
"You got AIDS from April, Roger. And God knows where SHE got it from!"
"Don't you talk about her like that," he growled.
"Why?" she demanded.
"You're one to talk. Who knows how the hell YOU got it. By sleeping around like a whore, maybe? Both before AND after your stepfather kicked you out of the house?" he screamed at her
"Fuck you," Mimi said, quietly.
"God, I don't know how the fuck we're going to be able to keep a family together if we can't even spend a fucking day together without screaming at each other," he shouted.
"Then maybe we shouldn't consider marriage at all, if you think all we do is fight," Mimi yelled.
"FINE! Wasn't my idea anyway!"
"FINE!"
"FINE!"
Mimi stormed out of the kitchen, and Roger heard the bedroom door slam.
"And don't break the fucking door down!" he shouted.
"FUCK YOU!"
Roger sighed and put his head in his hands.
He heard a key turn in the lock, and lifted his head to see Mark enter.
"I don't know what happened," he said, "But all I heard were a bunch of 'Fuck you's!' so I'm guessing it isn't good."
"Mimi's having mood swings. It's almost crazy. She was asking me about getting married."
"That's not crazy. I don't think she's just bringing that up because she's pregnant, either."
"What do you mean?"
"Jan told me Mimi mentions it sometimes, casually."
Roger sighed. "God, I'm such a fucktard."
"Don't be so hard on yourself," Mark said, trying not to smile.
"When she told me she wanted to get married I made fun of her and told her she'd look like a blimp coming down the aisle."
Mark winced. "Ouch."
"Yeah." Roger sighed. "I should really go apologize, but I'm afraid she'll start chucking things at me."
"PMS is a bitch," Mark agreed. "I know Jan's always bitchy around that time."
'Thanks, Mark," Roger rolled his eyes. "I really needed to know that."
Mark shrugged. "I'm just trying to help."
"Sorry."
Mark paused. "Look, I was going to head to the Life Café for something to eat. You want to come?"
Roger sighed. "I guess so. I don't think Mimi's planning on leaving the bedroom anytime soon."
"Great. Just the two of us. Like old times," Mark said, trying to cheer him up.
Roger forced a smile.
"She'll have let off all her steam by the time you get back," Mark assured him.
Roger sighed. "I hope so."
***
Mimi slid into a pair of Roger's old sweatpants, not bothering to change her top.
She slid into the bed, pulling the pillow over her head.
Why the fuck did I react like that? She asked herself.
She knew it was inconsiderate of her to talk about April like that in front of him. But she'd wanted to hurt him. She'd wanted to make him feel the pain that she was feeling.
God, pre-pregnant mood swings were a bitch.
Mimi sighed, as she closed her eyes.
Hopefully he'd be steamed off by the time he returned. She needed to apologize to him.
*** Mimi woke up in the middle of the night.
She glanced at the clock. It was two in the morning.
Her stomach felt like it was tied up into knots.
"Fuck," she groaned, and barely made it to the bathroom in time.
Kneeling beside the toilet, she vomited, miserably.
Roger hadn't been in the bed beside her when she'd gotten up.
What if he wasn't coming back?
Stop that, she scolded herself. He was probably just having a late night out with Mark.
But what if he was just angry with her and didn't plan on coming back? Her brain asked her.
Before she could answer herself, she felt more bile beginning to rise in her throat, and again, she vomited.
Exhausted, she pressed her cheek against the cool porcelain, trying to cool herself down.
A few seconds later she was throwing up again, and then when the nausea didn't go away, she began to dry heave into the bowl.
Where the fuck was Roger?
Mimi began to cry, out of misery, and self pity, and fear. She coughed and choked as she became sick again. She continued to sob.
Suddenly, she felt hands on her waist, and she didn't need to turn her head to know it was Roger.
"It's alright, baby," he whispered into her ear.
He held her hair back behind her head as she emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl, rubbing her back gently as she cried between getting sick.
Finally, when the nausea had faded, Mimi pushed herself away from the toilet, exhausted and weeping..
"You're okay, baby," Roger whispered, kissing her forehead, which was clammy with sweat.
"I'm sorry," Mimi whimpered, "For what I said before."
"So am I," he said, softly.
He helped her to her feet and guided her back into the bedroom.
Mimi fell asleep in seconds, exhausted from being sick.
Roger wrapped his arms protectively around her body, his lips pressed against her ear. He felt her chest move up and down with her weepy breath.
Moments later, he faded into the depths of sleep.
"Meems?" Roger whispered into Mimi's sleeping ear.
"Mmmph?"
"You've gotta get up, babe. We've got to go to the doctor. For the ultrasound, remember?"
"Ugh. Yes," Mimi grumbled, pulling her pillow over her head.
"Mee-Mee," Roger said in a sing-song voice, tugging at her arm.
Without getting up, Mimi tossed the pillow at him.
"Seriously, Mimi, you've gotta get dressed," Roger said, catching the pillow.
"Why do I have to get up TODAY?" Mimi groaned. "I feel like shit. I'm tired as hell. I was up at two in the morning last night heaving my guts into the toilet."
Roger made a face. "Thanks for the imagery. Besides, you're usually up at that time anyway."
Mimi shut her eyes, not answering.
Roger sighed. He'd known that sooner or later he'd have to prepare himself for Mimi's mood swings.
"Mimi," he said again, gently. "You have to get up. Don't you wanna make sure the baby's healthy?"
"Why don't you dress me, then?" Mimi snapped, sarcastically.
Roger shrugged his shoulders. "When in Rome," he began to tug on one of the pant legs of her flannel pajamas.
"Okay, okay! I'm up," Mimi grumbled, sitting up. "Toss me that skirt hanging in the closet? The black one?"
Roger obeyed, and threw the black leather skirt in her direction.
"Pretty soon I'm going to be too big to fit into these," Mimi mumbled, as she slid on the skirt.
"That's the spirit," Roger joked. "Way to be optimistic, Meems."
"Excuse me, but I didn't hear you tossing YOUR dinner into the toilet last night," Mimi replied, as she pulled a white tank top over her head.
"True," Roger agreed, glancing at the clock by the bed. "We've gotta go soon, Meems."
"Hold your horses. I'm a pregnant woman, for crying out loud!"
"Mimi, you're not even two months along yet," Roger grinned. "Just wait until May. THEN you can complain about having to hurry up."
"Doesn't matter how far along I am," Mimi said, a hair clip dangling from her lower lip. She twisted her hair into a messy ponytail, and slid the clip in behind her ear. "I still have YOUR kid inside me."
"OUR kid," he corrected her.
Mimi sighed. "I still can't believe I'm going to be a mother," she said, shaking her head.
"Yeah. I can't wait," Roger said, smiling at her.
Mimi smiled back, sheepishly.
"You done yet?" he asked her, as she slid her feet into her high heeled boots.
"Yup," she replied, standing up from the bed. "Let's go."
***
"I always hate it here," Mimi whispered to Roger, as they sat side by side in the waiting room.
"Why?" Roger whispered back.
"Because whenever you're in here, everyone is in pain."
"Not necessarily," an elderly woman said, who was next to Roger. She had overheard the conversation.
"Excuse me?" Roger said, blinking.
"I said, not everyone in here is necessarily in pain," she repeated.
"What do you mean?" Mimi asked.
"Well, take you for example. You're not in pain. You're going to have a baby."
"How'd you know?" Roger asked, bewildered.
The lady smiled. "You're young. And neither of you appear to be seriously hurt. So I just assumed it was so."
She smiled and nodded her head towards Mimi. "How far along are you, dear?"
"Just about six weeks," said Mimi.
The woman smiled and nodded.
"Why are you in here?" Roger asked her.
The woman smiled, faintly. "I have leukemia. I'm going in for chemotherapy."
"I'm sorry," Mimi said, softly.
The woman shrugged. "Don't be. This ain't real, anyway," she said, tugging at her gray hair to show them that it was a wig.
"Mimi Marquez?" a nurse at the doorway inquired.
"Coming," Mimi said quickly, standing to her feet.
She turned back to the old woman. "It was nice meeting you. Good luck," she added.
"Thank you, dear. You too. You live a long, happy life together, you hear?"
Mimi smiled, weakly. "Thank you."
"Miss Marquez?" the nurse called, from the door.
"Coming," Mimi said again.
Roger stood up, grabbing both his and Mimi's jackets.
"Goodbye," he said to the old woman, and she nodded, and smiled.
"And you are?" the nurse asked Roger, as he and Mimi approached her.
"He's my boyfriend," Mimi said, quickly. "The father."
"Well, naturally, I would presume," the nurse said, humored. "Follow me."
She led the two of them down the hall, past men and women, both young and old in wheelchairs, or stretchers, or using walkers.
Mimi bit her lip nervously. She hated hospitals. The only times she'd been in one was when Joel had shot her, and when she had found out she was positive.
"In here," the nurse said, finally stopping at a door. "Doctor Eledge will be in in a moment."
"Thank you," Roger said, as she closed the door behind her.
Mimi lifted herself onto the exam bed and Roger sat down on a stool beside her.
A moment later, the doctor entered the room.
"Hello, Miss Marquez. Mister Marquez, I assume?" she asked, looking at Roger.
Roger blushed. "Um, no. Just her boyfriend."
"Oh, I see. I'm Dr. Eledge. So you're in for your six week check up, huh?"
"Yup," Mimi said, glancing around, nervously.
"You nervous?"
"Well, it's my first time doing this," Mimi said, forcing a small smile.
"That's understandable. I can see how you would be a little nervous." She took a wide metal object from one of the lower drawers.
"What's that?" Roger asked.
"It's a speculum, Rog," Mimi told him.
"A what?"
"A speculum. You know . . . to check out things down there."
"Oh?" he looked interested, instead of disgusted.
Mimi rolled her eyes, and sighed as the doctor neared her with the object.
"I think you know how this works out, Mimi," the doctor said, giving her a somewhat sympathetic look.
"I know," Mimi sighed, beginning to unzip her skirt.
"Do I have to stay?" Roger asked, his eyes wide.
"No, you're perfectly free to leave," Dr. Eledge assured him.
"No, it's okay. I think I should stay," he said, quickly.
"Pervert," Mimi grumbled, as she laid down on the table.
"Hey, I'm your boyfriend. This stuff isn't new to me."
"You ready, Mimi?" the doctor asked.
Mimi winced. "Do I have a choice?"
"Okay. Here we go."
A moment later, Mimi began to pull her skirt back on, and Dr. Eledge had moved over to the sink to wash her hands.
Roger was still seated on the stool, his eyes twice the size they had been when he had first entered the room.
"Okay, Mimi, now I'm going to check the baby's heartbeat. This should be a bit more pleasant than the previous procedure."
"Alright," Mimi said.
Dr. Eledge took out her stethoscope.
"Roll your shirt up, just a bit?" she asked.
Mimi did.
"Okay," Dr. Eledge said, placing the stethoscope onto Mimi's stomach.
As she listened, she chewed her lip, and appeared to be in deep concentration. "Hmm," she said.
"Is everything alright?" Roger asked.
"Yes, everything is fine. I hear a steady heartbeat," she said, slowly. She placed the stethoscope in another position and listened again. The corners of her mouth slowly turned up into a smile.
"What is it?" Mimi asked, impatiently.
"Well," Dr. Eledge said, as she put away the stethoscope. "I don't hear just one healthy heartbeat- I hear TWO healthy hartbeats."
It took Mimi a moment to process what had just been said.
Roger, however, was right on target.
"Oh, fuck . . ." he said, slowly.
"Roger!" Mimi hissed.
"Miss Marquez, it appears you are having twins," Dr. Eledge said, smiling.
Mimi's eyes widened. "I AM?"
She nodded.
Mimi turned to Roger, an amused look on her face. "We're having twins."
"We did a nice job."
"We did," she giggled.
"Alright, Mimi, there's just a few more questions I need to ask the both of you," Dr. Eledge said, taking out a clipboard and a pencil. "Are you and Roger sexually active, currently?"
"Well, no," Mimi said, slowly. "Aren't you not supposed to . . . do it, when you're pregnant?"
An amused smile came over Dr. Eledge's face.
"Actually, you CAN," she told her.
Roger's head shot up. "WHAT?"
"Until around the next trimester, it's perfectly fine to do so. You just might not be comfortable as you become farther along."
"So you're saying," Roger began, "That I have spent the last six weeks a saint for no reason?"
"One more thing I need to ask you," Dr. Eledge said to Mimi, both of them ignoring Roger.
"I've been jipped," he said, shaking his head.
"I understand you both are HIV positive?"
They both nodded, slowly.
"How many years have you been?" she asked Mimi.
Mimi chewed her lower lip. "About five years," she said, fidgeting uncomfortably.
"And you?" Dr. Eledge said, turning to Roger.
"Almost two years," he said, quietly.
"Are our babies going to be positive?" Mimi asked, quietly.
"It will be determined after they're born," Dr. Eledge told her.
"But there is a chance they might be?" she asked, softly.
She nodded. "But then again, there's always a chance they might not be, also."
Mimi nodded.
Dr. Eledge took another glance at her clipboard. "How have you been feeling in general?"
"Well, the morning sickness is making me feel like shit, if that's what you're asking," Mimi said, a small smile on her face.
"That's expected. But other than that?"
Mimi shook her head.
"And you're still taking your AZT?"
Mimi nodded. "Am I supposed to?"
"Yes. And I'm going to prescribe for you two other pills as well for you to take. We call it 'The Triple Cocktail.' It's just to prevent the HIV from spreading, and slowing it down."
"Alright," Mimi said, as Dr. Eledge scribbled down the name for her. She ripped a piece of paper from her clipboard. "You can fill the prescription out here," she said, handing it to Mimi. "Do you have any other questions?"
Mimi shook her head.
"Okay," Dr. Eledge said, smiling. "I guess I'll see you when you have your next check up. In about two or three months. It's nice to have met you."
"You too," Mimi said, smiling, as she hopped of the examination table.
Roger waved, and opened the door for Mimi.
"You want to fill the prescription now?" he asked her.
She nodded.
Roger let out a whoosh of air. "So, was it as bad as you thought it would be?"
"No," Mimi admitted. She paused, and a smile came over her face. "Shit, Roger, we're having TWINS."
Roger grinned. "I know." He wrapped his arms around her waist and bent down to kiss her. Then he knelt down so his head was level with her abdomen.
"You guys don't give your mom to much trouble in there, you hear?" he said, pretending to knock on her stomach.
Mimi giggled. "Rog, people are staring."
"So what?" he said, standing to his feet. "I'm going to be a father. I have a right to be crazily excited."
"Yeah. Soon you'll be losing your hair and everything," Mimi teased.
Roger's ran his hand through his hair. "Don't even JOKE about that," he said, a serious look on his face.
Mimi laughed. "C'mon, let's go get this filled."
***
"Got any fours?" Mark asked Maureen.
"Go fish," she answered.
Mark took another card from the deck. "Shit," he mumbled, "I suck at this game."
"Don't be so hard on yourself," Jan said to him.
The three of them were in Maureen and Joanne's apartment, waiting for the news of how Mimi's check-up went. Joanne was at her niece's bat mitzvah.
"I bet it's a girl," Jan said, as she took another card from the deck.
"You're smoking," Mark told her. "It's definitely a boy."
"Well, we'll see, won't we?" she said, smiling.
"Don't smile," he said.
She frowned. "Why now?"
"Because it makes me want to make violent love to you," he said, seriously.
Maureen groaned and threw down her cards. "Jeez, Mark, you had to share that with all of us?"
"Sorry, Mo," Mark said, as he and Jan grinned sheepishly at each other.
"Forget it," Maureen groaned. She pulled her chair back away from the coffee table. "I don't feel like playing anymore. You two can finish up."
She stood up and walked away.
Mark turned to Jan. "What'd I say?"
Jan shrugged. "Guess she didn't like hearing about our sex life."
"Yeah. I'm going to make sure she's okay," Mark said, getting up from his seat. "Don't look at my cards," he joked.
Jan smiled. "I won't."
Mark found Maureen in her bedroom, sitting on her bed.
"Hey, look, I didn't mean to bring that up in front of you," Mark said, sitting down beside her. "I know it probably ticked you off because we used to be, you know . . ."
"It's not THAT, Mark," Maureen snapped, standing up and walking over to the other side of the room, not facing him.
"What is it then?" he asked, confused.
Maureen sighed. "It's just this whole baby thing . . . it makes me uncomfortable."
"You want to have a baby?"
"NO," Maureen snapped.
"Well, can you help me out here, Mo, because I have no idea what you're trying to say."
Maureen sighed, and sat back down on the bed, beside Mark.
She paused a moment before speaking. "Don't tell this to Joanne, alright?"
"Alright," he said, curious to know what she was talking about.
"Okay," Maureen took a deep breath. "I was pregnant once," she said, softly.
"What?" Mark exclaimed, not sure he was hearing her correctly.
"I said, I was pregnant once," she said, louder this time.
"I . . .God, Maureen, I . . . is it . . . was it . . ."
"You weren't the father," Maureen assured him.
Mark felt a tiny bit of relief. "Oh," he said, quietly. "Who was?" he asked.
Maureen lowered her head. "Jimmy," she whispered.
"Oh, jeez," Mark said, under his breath.
"It wasn't on purpose. Jimmy didn't have a condom with him, and he assured me everything would be fine," Maureen said, rolling her eyes.
"So . . . did you have it?" Mark asked, quietly.
"No. I had an abortion."
Mark nodded, slowly.
"You probably think I'm a real moron now," Maureen said, giving a dry chuckle.
"I don't," Mark protested.
Maureen sighed. "It's okay. I was younger. I was stupider. I didn't know what I was getting into when I first got involved with Jimmy. He was the one who urged me to have the abortion."
"You didn't want to?"
"No," Maureen said in a small voice. "That's why I'm always uncomfortable when everyone talks about the baby. I mean, I'm thrilled for them, of course. But I wanted to keep that baby," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I wanted to have a little girl of my own."
"I'm sorry," Mark said, not quite knowing what to say.
"It's not your fault. You're not the one who told me to have an abortion, are you?"
Mark could only shrug.
Maureen sighed. "The procedure didn't go to well. The place Jimmy brought me to was cheap. Unsanitary. You could walk in there sicker than you came in. The doctor was a fuck-up. I probably couldn't have kids now, even if I tried."
"I'm sorry, Mo," Mark said, quietly. "You should have told me earlier."
"I know. I should have. When I first met you, it was a few months after I had broken up with Jimmy, and I was just trying to pretend it never happened. Like there was no Jimmy. That there'd never been a baby. But I guess those ghosts always come back to haunt you, huh?"
Mark could only nod.
"Anyway," Maureen sighed. "I'm sorry to bring all this up all of a sudden. I should have told you sooner."
"It's alright," Mark assured her.
Maureen smiled. "Thanks, Mark. You know, you're probably the best friend I ever had. Even more than Joanne. Don't tell her, though," she said, smiling.
"I won't."
Mark held out a hand toward her. "You want to finish the game?"
Maureen let out a soft chuckle. "Why not?"
She took his hand, and the two of them went back into the living room, where Jan was waiting patiently with the cards.
***
"Mark? Jan? Anyone here?" Roger called, as he and Mimi entered the loft.
"Guess they're not here," he said, sounding disappointed. "I wanted to tell him the news. I guess it'll have to wait."
He walked into the kitchen, spying an envelope on the table.
"What's that?" Mimi asked, looking over his shoulder.
"Dunno. It's addressed to me, though."
"Well. Are you going to open it?"
"I'm thinking I might just stare at it."
"Dumbass. Open it," she grinned.
Roger opened it. It was an invitation.
"It's an invitation to Chad and Karmine's wedding," he said, sounding surprised.
"Oh. I almost forgot they were getting married," Mimi said.
Roger sighed, contently. "Yeah. Wonder if he'll make me his best man," he grinned at Mimi.
Mimi shrugged and walked over to the refrigerator, grabbing an orange.
"What's wrong?" he asked her.
"Nothing. It's just everywhere I go, no matter what I do, everything has to do with marriage, marriage, marriage."
"So?"
"I don't know," she said, fumbling with the orange peel. "I just thought maybe it could be something we could look into?"
"Meems, we've got two babies along the way. Don't you think we should take care of that first, and wait for the babies to be born?" Roger laughed. "You wanna run down the aisle looking like a blimp? Besides, marriage is way complicated. You don't think we're ready for it, do you?"
Mimi shrugged again, tossing the orange into the garbage, her appetite lost.
"What's the matter with you?"
Mimi whipped around. "What do you mean?" she snapped.
Roger held out his hands in front of him, in defense. "Jeez, I'm just asking you if you're okay. You just went into bitch-mode all of a sudden."
"Well I think I have a right to be a bitch, when you're making fun of me for trying to discuss a serious topic with you," she snapped.
"Meems, I didn't know you were serious," he said.
"Of course not," Mimi said, rolling her eyes.
"Would you stop doing that?" Roger demanded, getting angrier.
"Doing what?" she growled.
"THAT. Fucking snapping at everything I say."
"Well, I'm mad at you, okay?!" she yelled.
"Why? Because I don't want to juggle having kids and getting married at the same time?" he snapped.
"No, because you're not taking me seriously!"
"Mimi, we can't get married now- I mean, we've got Chad's wedding coming up, and then there's the band, and-"
"Everything's about the band, isn't it?" she growled. "Why don't we name one of the babies 'Well,' and the other one 'Hungarian?'"
"You know that's not true . . ."
"It is!" she snapped.
"God, I knew pregnant women had mood swings, but this is just ridiculous, Mimi."
"Then why don't you just go," Mimi grumbled.
"Why are you being so difficult?" he asked, exasperated.
"Because I'm pregnant and I'm entitled to be as difficult as I want to," she yelled. "And whenever I've brought up the subject of marriage, you just shrug it off!"
"Fine, you want to know why I get uncomfortable whenever you talk about getting married?" he yelled back at her.
Mimi placed her hands on her hips, waiting for an answer.
"It's because April asked me to marry her once. We were going to, too. But that obviously didn't work, did it?!" he was shouting, but Mimi could see the sadness in his eyes.
"It always goes back to April," Mimi snapped.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"She's your excuse for everything. If it's not April, it's the band."
"At least April CARED about my devotion to the band," Roger grumbled.
"And I'm worried for the babies. That they're going to be positive," Mimi continued. "I mean, if it wasn't for APRIL there wouldn't be as much of a chance."
"What?!"
"You got AIDS from April, Roger. And God knows where SHE got it from!"
"Don't you talk about her like that," he growled.
"Why?" she demanded.
"You're one to talk. Who knows how the hell YOU got it. By sleeping around like a whore, maybe? Both before AND after your stepfather kicked you out of the house?" he screamed at her
"Fuck you," Mimi said, quietly.
"God, I don't know how the fuck we're going to be able to keep a family together if we can't even spend a fucking day together without screaming at each other," he shouted.
"Then maybe we shouldn't consider marriage at all, if you think all we do is fight," Mimi yelled.
"FINE! Wasn't my idea anyway!"
"FINE!"
"FINE!"
Mimi stormed out of the kitchen, and Roger heard the bedroom door slam.
"And don't break the fucking door down!" he shouted.
"FUCK YOU!"
Roger sighed and put his head in his hands.
He heard a key turn in the lock, and lifted his head to see Mark enter.
"I don't know what happened," he said, "But all I heard were a bunch of 'Fuck you's!' so I'm guessing it isn't good."
"Mimi's having mood swings. It's almost crazy. She was asking me about getting married."
"That's not crazy. I don't think she's just bringing that up because she's pregnant, either."
"What do you mean?"
"Jan told me Mimi mentions it sometimes, casually."
Roger sighed. "God, I'm such a fucktard."
"Don't be so hard on yourself," Mark said, trying not to smile.
"When she told me she wanted to get married I made fun of her and told her she'd look like a blimp coming down the aisle."
Mark winced. "Ouch."
"Yeah." Roger sighed. "I should really go apologize, but I'm afraid she'll start chucking things at me."
"PMS is a bitch," Mark agreed. "I know Jan's always bitchy around that time."
'Thanks, Mark," Roger rolled his eyes. "I really needed to know that."
Mark shrugged. "I'm just trying to help."
"Sorry."
Mark paused. "Look, I was going to head to the Life Café for something to eat. You want to come?"
Roger sighed. "I guess so. I don't think Mimi's planning on leaving the bedroom anytime soon."
"Great. Just the two of us. Like old times," Mark said, trying to cheer him up.
Roger forced a smile.
"She'll have let off all her steam by the time you get back," Mark assured him.
Roger sighed. "I hope so."
***
Mimi slid into a pair of Roger's old sweatpants, not bothering to change her top.
She slid into the bed, pulling the pillow over her head.
Why the fuck did I react like that? She asked herself.
She knew it was inconsiderate of her to talk about April like that in front of him. But she'd wanted to hurt him. She'd wanted to make him feel the pain that she was feeling.
God, pre-pregnant mood swings were a bitch.
Mimi sighed, as she closed her eyes.
Hopefully he'd be steamed off by the time he returned. She needed to apologize to him.
*** Mimi woke up in the middle of the night.
She glanced at the clock. It was two in the morning.
Her stomach felt like it was tied up into knots.
"Fuck," she groaned, and barely made it to the bathroom in time.
Kneeling beside the toilet, she vomited, miserably.
Roger hadn't been in the bed beside her when she'd gotten up.
What if he wasn't coming back?
Stop that, she scolded herself. He was probably just having a late night out with Mark.
But what if he was just angry with her and didn't plan on coming back? Her brain asked her.
Before she could answer herself, she felt more bile beginning to rise in her throat, and again, she vomited.
Exhausted, she pressed her cheek against the cool porcelain, trying to cool herself down.
A few seconds later she was throwing up again, and then when the nausea didn't go away, she began to dry heave into the bowl.
Where the fuck was Roger?
Mimi began to cry, out of misery, and self pity, and fear. She coughed and choked as she became sick again. She continued to sob.
Suddenly, she felt hands on her waist, and she didn't need to turn her head to know it was Roger.
"It's alright, baby," he whispered into her ear.
He held her hair back behind her head as she emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl, rubbing her back gently as she cried between getting sick.
Finally, when the nausea had faded, Mimi pushed herself away from the toilet, exhausted and weeping..
"You're okay, baby," Roger whispered, kissing her forehead, which was clammy with sweat.
"I'm sorry," Mimi whimpered, "For what I said before."
"So am I," he said, softly.
He helped her to her feet and guided her back into the bedroom.
Mimi fell asleep in seconds, exhausted from being sick.
Roger wrapped his arms protectively around her body, his lips pressed against her ear. He felt her chest move up and down with her weepy breath.
Moments later, he faded into the depths of sleep.