"Are you thinking of getting breast implants or something?" Mimi yawned,
when she woke up to find Roger gazing at his bare chest in the mirror.
"NO, I'm no thinking of getting implants," Roger shot back. "I was thinking of getting another tattoo."
"Another one?" Mimi asked, stretching.
"Yeah. Right here," Roger said, pointing to the middle of his chest.
Mimi shrugged. "If you want it, get it."
"Maybe I should get a tattoo of your name?"
Mimi made a face. "That'd be kind of weird."
"Why? You don't think it'll look sexy?" he teased.
Mimi grinned. "I'd rather not have my name drawn onto you permanently, Roger."
"If it was the other way around, would you get a tattoo of my name?"
"Who's getting a tattoo of who's name?" Mark asked, walking into the room in his gray furry slippers.
"Jeez, haven't you ever heard of knocking?" Roger exclaimed.
"Sorry. Who's getting who's name tattooed on them?"
"I'm getting your name tattooed on my ass."
"That's very considerate of you, Roger," Mark rolled his eyes. "I've always been very fond of you."
"Yeah, well," Roger said with mock casualty as he slid on the monogrammed robe that he'd gotten from his mother for Christmas.
"Did Jan leave?" Mimi asked, propping herself up on a pillows.
Mark sighed. "Yup. This time she really left for the funeral. It won't be as long as she was supposed to be gone before, though. Only five days."
"Well, that's good," Mimi said.
"Are you going to get up or what?" Roger said to Mimi.
Mimi stuck out her tongue. "Make me."
"Okay," said Roger. He walked over to the bed and grabbed her ankle, trying to tug her off the bed.
"Stop!" Mimi exclaimed, holding onto the bedpost tightly with both hands.
"Nope- If I can get up, you can get up too," Roger declared, finally pulling her away from the bed.
Mimi landed on the floor on her butt. "You'd be tired too if you were up last night barfing up a week's worth of dinner," she grumbled, taking Roger's hand as he pulled her to her feet.
"I'm sorry, babe," he apologized.
Mimi shook her head. "It's not your fault. Well actually, it is."
Roger grinned, sheepishly. "Sorry."
"What's different about today?" Mark wondered aloud.
Roger paused. "Pepper's not here? Collins and Frankie finally took that cretin back downstairs."
Mark shook his head. "No. It feels like something's missing. Like I'm missing something."
"Jan?" Mimi guessed.
Mark groaned. "You're right. That's it."
"Sorry, Marky," she said, sympathetically.
"I'll be fine," he sighed, gloomily.
"Well, you know what can cheer you up? Watching me getting tattooed!" Roger said, with forced enthusiasm.
"You really want to get another tattoo?" Mimi asked, surprised.
Roger nodded. "Yup."
"Today?"
"Sure, why not?" Mimi shrugged.
"You want to come, Mark?"
Mark wrinkled his nose. "I'd love to watch you get ink injected into your body. Really, I would. But I'm going out to brunch with Maureen in a little while."
"Your loss," Roger said, waving his hand at him. "Now shoo. I need to get dressed."
"Anything specific you're thinking of?" the woman asked Roger once he'd sat down in the reclined chair and removed his shirt.
Mimi sat beside him on a leather stool, fidgeting nervously.
"I just wanted to get a name inside a heart. Right here," Roger said, pointing with his thumb.
"What name?"
"Mimi," Roger said, smiling at Mimi.
Mimi blushed.
"How do you spell that?"
Roger told her.
"Alright. I've got to get the stencil for the letters," the woman said, getting up to leave. "Be back in a sec."
"Alright," Roger said. "Meems, you should get a tattoo," he teased, once she'd left.
"Me? Get a tattoo? Are you kidding? I don't want ink being injected into my skin. I don't know about you."
"Get something pierced then."
"Something?" Mimi said, in a suggesting tone.
"Your nose. Or tongue."
"That's disgusting," Mimi said, making a face.
"Get your belly button pierced, then."
Mimi snorted. "Yeah, a pregnant woman with a belly button ring. That'd be real sexy."
"It would," he insisted.
"Roger, I have enough to think about right now," Mimi said, laughing.
"I think it'd look hot. Especially when you start to get so big that you have an outie and it starts to stick out and-"
"Roger- I am NOT piercing my belly button, or any other part of my body," Mimi declared, wrapping her arms around her stomach protectively.
Roger laughed. "Calm down, Meems, I was kidding."
"You two ready?" the lady asked, returning to the room.
Roger nodded.
"Okay, here we go," she said, rubbing alcohol on the spot that would be tattooed.
She took out the stencil and the needle and began to tattoo the first letter.
About five minutes into the process, Mimi rose up from the stool and quickly walked out of the room.
The lady looked at Roger, confused. "Keep going. She's fine. She's just squeamish," Roger said, softly.
She shrugged and continued on.
"Will that be cash or credit card?" the lady at the desk asked Roger.
"Cash," he muttered, handing her the crumpled bills. He rushed over to the small, stuffy waiting room, where Mimi was.
"Meems, what happened?" he asked, kneeling down beside her.
"I just couldn't sit in there while she was doing it," Mimi said, softly.
"You didn't have to come with me if you didn't want to, babe," he said softly, running his fingers through her hair.
Mimi shrugged. "I've felt weird around needles ever since . . . well, you know . . ."
Roger knew.
Mimi sighed. "Also, it reminded me of one of a boy I used to know."
Roger gave her a confused look.
"The one that I got AIDS from," Mimi said, quietly.
"Mimi," Roger whispered, starting to rub her shoulder but Mimi pulled away.
"I had a boyfriend at the time. He'd still follow me around during school, and later during the night. One night I was walking back from a party, and I guess I was pretty stoned."
"What happened?" Roger asked, quietly.
"I didn't want to. He did it anyway," Mimi said, not looking at him.
"You mean he . . . raped you?" Roger said, softly.
"If that's what you'd call it," Mimi mumbled.
"Mimi! That's serious! Why didn't you tell you parents?"
Mimi scoffed. "Joel wouldn't have believed me. Even if he did, he would have said that I'd been asking for it all along. He'd only convince my mother to believe the same thing."
"Where does this guy live? I'll kill him, Mimi, I swear to God . . ."
"The last I heard of him, he'd been killed in a car accident. He was drinking," she added.
Roger shook his head. "Jesus fucking Christ."
"I just remember . . . when he . . . did it . . .I was pretty messed up, but I just remember he had a tattoo of a girl's name on his chest."
"What was the name?" Roger asked, softly.
All of a sudden, Mimi looked frightened. "I don't want to talk about it," she said, rising to her feet, suddenly. "I want to go home."
"Alright," Roger said quietly, wrapping his arm around her.
He stroked her cheek as the two of them walked home, but Mimi seemed to occupied in her own thoughts to notice.
"So . . . how was the hearing?" Maureen bombarded Joanne as soon as she walked in the door.
"Oh, God. You would not BELIEVE," Joanne exclaimed, setting down her suitcase,
"Boring?" Maureen guessed.
"No. It was actually very interesting. Not at all like the other one's I've been to. You know, I have a degree that I never used. Maybe I should try to become a real court case lawyer," Joanne said, thoughtfully.
"You?" Maureen said, surprised.
"Why? You don't think I could do it?" Joanne demanded.
"No, it's not that . . . I just couldn't imagine you as a big court case lawyer. You're just . . . Joanne."
"Well, that doesn't say much," Joanne said, rolling her eyes.
"I didn't mean it in a bad way!" Maureen persisted.
Joanne shrugged. "Whatever." She poured herself a glass of ice water from the sink. "How was the wedding?"
"Oh, it was beautiful," Maureen gushed. "Karmine was beautiful. You should have seen me, though. I'm lucky I didn't drown all the guests with my crying."
"You ALWAYS cry," Joanne commented, taking a sip of water.
"What's THAT supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. You're just very overly dramatic."
"Overly dramatic?" Maureen exclaimed. "You mean as in a drama queen?"
Joanne frowned. "It's not a bad thing, Maureen. You have to admit, though. You are sort of a drama queen."
"I am NOT a drama queen!" Maureen declared.
"Mo, calm down!" Joanne exclaimed. "I was just kidding."
"You always make fun of every little thing I do," Maureen huffed.
"Yeah, well what about you? Laughing it up when I suggested that I wanted to be a more serious lawyer."
"I don't see why we're together if we can't even have a civil conversation with each other," Maureen shot back.
An angry look came over Joanne's face. "Fine. I'll go then." She went into the hallway to retrieve the still-packed suitcase.
"Pookie, wait- I just overreacted," Maureen pleaded, following Joanne to the door.
Joanne sighed. "You're always 'overreacting'." Mo, I think we both need some time on our own right now. I can stay with my mother in New Jersey. I just think we should spend some time apart."
"Fine. Go home to your mother and become some big lawyer. See if I care," Maureen snapped.
"See? You're overreacting about this too."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Fine! Just go then!"
"I will."
"Good!"
"Fine."
"Fine!"
Joanne closed the door quickly behind her.
Maureen groaned, pushing her curly hair behind her ears and rubbing her temples.
"Fuck," she muttered.
"Are you having fun?"
A smile lit up Mark's face. "Hi Jan."
He was sitting in his bedroom with the cordless phone cradled between his chin and shoulder.
"Just thought I'd call and see how you're doing."
"I'm fine. I miss you though."
"I miss you too, Marky."
Mark smiled. "How the funeral going?" he asked, his tone becoming a bit more serious.
"The funeral's tomorrow. And the waking."
"Oh, um. Sounds fun?" Mark said, awkwardly.
"Yeah, I'd rather pay my respects and not actually see the body," Mark heard Jan sigh. "But what can you do?"
"So you're at your parent's house now?"
"Yup. First I was swarmed with about fifty of my relatives. And A quarter of them I didn't even know."
Mark laughed. "Typical."
"The last funeral I went to was April's."
Mark was silent for a moment.
"Are you there, Mark?"
"Yeah, I'm here. That just sort of caught me off guard."
"I'm sorry."
"You know, Roger never went to April's funeral."
"I thought not. Otherwise I probably would have recognized his face."
"It was too much for him. After she died, he was a wreck. He couldn't pull himself together enough to be able to go out to the funeral."
"I understand."
"You should have seen him. I was afraid to leave the Loft because I was afraid he'd kill himself." Mark paused. "But then he went into withdrawal. And then later he met Mimi." He smiled with the memory of Roger first talking to him about Mimi at St. Mark's place last Christmas eve.
"I'm glad he's found someone else that he's happy with."
"Me too. I mean, know one can ever replace April . . ."
"I know what you mean, Mark. No one CAN ever replace her."
"Yeah," Mark said, sighing, softly.
"Shit. Mark, I've gotta go. Dinner time with the 'rents."
Mark laughed. "The ''Rents?''
"What, am I too old to use that word? I'll talk to you later, Mark. I love you."
"I love you too," Mark said, as he head the phone click.
He stared at it for a few moments before getting up to return it to its cradle.
"Mimi?"
"Mmm?"
"Could you tell me what's bothering you?"
"Nothing's bothering me, baby."
"When I asked you about the name, you got all weird."
They were in Roger's bedroom, preparing to go to bed.
"It's nothing . . .I don't even remember the name."
"Mimi, you know I can tell when you're not telling the truth."
Mimi sighed. "Okay. I WAS pretty drunk that night. But I know for a fact that the name the guy tattooed on his chest was 'April.'"
Roger was silent. "Not the same one?" he whispered.
"I honestly don't know, Roger. She could have been an old ex of his or something."
Roger didn't hear her. All he could think of was the fact that Mimi and April might have both gotten AIDS from the same person.
"That bastard," he growled. "If he wasn't dead already I'd kill him myself."
"Roger, what's done is done," Mimi said, softly. "There's only NOW."
Roger sighed, taking Mimi's hand in his.
"If you want I can try and find out more from Jan about April's old boyfriend."
Roger sighed. "You don't have to."
Mimi gave him a surprised look. "Are you sure?"
Roger nodded. He didn't want the truth to be told to him. Even though that in his heart, he believed that it was true.
"Okay. I'm going to bed now," Mimi said softly.
"Alright," Roger leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. "Goodnight, baby."
"Goodnight." Mimi turned off the light.
Roger lay awake in his bed for a long time, staring at the ceiling until his eyes began to strain.
Finally, he closed them, and finally drifted off into sleep.
"NO, I'm no thinking of getting implants," Roger shot back. "I was thinking of getting another tattoo."
"Another one?" Mimi asked, stretching.
"Yeah. Right here," Roger said, pointing to the middle of his chest.
Mimi shrugged. "If you want it, get it."
"Maybe I should get a tattoo of your name?"
Mimi made a face. "That'd be kind of weird."
"Why? You don't think it'll look sexy?" he teased.
Mimi grinned. "I'd rather not have my name drawn onto you permanently, Roger."
"If it was the other way around, would you get a tattoo of my name?"
"Who's getting a tattoo of who's name?" Mark asked, walking into the room in his gray furry slippers.
"Jeez, haven't you ever heard of knocking?" Roger exclaimed.
"Sorry. Who's getting who's name tattooed on them?"
"I'm getting your name tattooed on my ass."
"That's very considerate of you, Roger," Mark rolled his eyes. "I've always been very fond of you."
"Yeah, well," Roger said with mock casualty as he slid on the monogrammed robe that he'd gotten from his mother for Christmas.
"Did Jan leave?" Mimi asked, propping herself up on a pillows.
Mark sighed. "Yup. This time she really left for the funeral. It won't be as long as she was supposed to be gone before, though. Only five days."
"Well, that's good," Mimi said.
"Are you going to get up or what?" Roger said to Mimi.
Mimi stuck out her tongue. "Make me."
"Okay," said Roger. He walked over to the bed and grabbed her ankle, trying to tug her off the bed.
"Stop!" Mimi exclaimed, holding onto the bedpost tightly with both hands.
"Nope- If I can get up, you can get up too," Roger declared, finally pulling her away from the bed.
Mimi landed on the floor on her butt. "You'd be tired too if you were up last night barfing up a week's worth of dinner," she grumbled, taking Roger's hand as he pulled her to her feet.
"I'm sorry, babe," he apologized.
Mimi shook her head. "It's not your fault. Well actually, it is."
Roger grinned, sheepishly. "Sorry."
"What's different about today?" Mark wondered aloud.
Roger paused. "Pepper's not here? Collins and Frankie finally took that cretin back downstairs."
Mark shook his head. "No. It feels like something's missing. Like I'm missing something."
"Jan?" Mimi guessed.
Mark groaned. "You're right. That's it."
"Sorry, Marky," she said, sympathetically.
"I'll be fine," he sighed, gloomily.
"Well, you know what can cheer you up? Watching me getting tattooed!" Roger said, with forced enthusiasm.
"You really want to get another tattoo?" Mimi asked, surprised.
Roger nodded. "Yup."
"Today?"
"Sure, why not?" Mimi shrugged.
"You want to come, Mark?"
Mark wrinkled his nose. "I'd love to watch you get ink injected into your body. Really, I would. But I'm going out to brunch with Maureen in a little while."
"Your loss," Roger said, waving his hand at him. "Now shoo. I need to get dressed."
"Anything specific you're thinking of?" the woman asked Roger once he'd sat down in the reclined chair and removed his shirt.
Mimi sat beside him on a leather stool, fidgeting nervously.
"I just wanted to get a name inside a heart. Right here," Roger said, pointing with his thumb.
"What name?"
"Mimi," Roger said, smiling at Mimi.
Mimi blushed.
"How do you spell that?"
Roger told her.
"Alright. I've got to get the stencil for the letters," the woman said, getting up to leave. "Be back in a sec."
"Alright," Roger said. "Meems, you should get a tattoo," he teased, once she'd left.
"Me? Get a tattoo? Are you kidding? I don't want ink being injected into my skin. I don't know about you."
"Get something pierced then."
"Something?" Mimi said, in a suggesting tone.
"Your nose. Or tongue."
"That's disgusting," Mimi said, making a face.
"Get your belly button pierced, then."
Mimi snorted. "Yeah, a pregnant woman with a belly button ring. That'd be real sexy."
"It would," he insisted.
"Roger, I have enough to think about right now," Mimi said, laughing.
"I think it'd look hot. Especially when you start to get so big that you have an outie and it starts to stick out and-"
"Roger- I am NOT piercing my belly button, or any other part of my body," Mimi declared, wrapping her arms around her stomach protectively.
Roger laughed. "Calm down, Meems, I was kidding."
"You two ready?" the lady asked, returning to the room.
Roger nodded.
"Okay, here we go," she said, rubbing alcohol on the spot that would be tattooed.
She took out the stencil and the needle and began to tattoo the first letter.
About five minutes into the process, Mimi rose up from the stool and quickly walked out of the room.
The lady looked at Roger, confused. "Keep going. She's fine. She's just squeamish," Roger said, softly.
She shrugged and continued on.
"Will that be cash or credit card?" the lady at the desk asked Roger.
"Cash," he muttered, handing her the crumpled bills. He rushed over to the small, stuffy waiting room, where Mimi was.
"Meems, what happened?" he asked, kneeling down beside her.
"I just couldn't sit in there while she was doing it," Mimi said, softly.
"You didn't have to come with me if you didn't want to, babe," he said softly, running his fingers through her hair.
Mimi shrugged. "I've felt weird around needles ever since . . . well, you know . . ."
Roger knew.
Mimi sighed. "Also, it reminded me of one of a boy I used to know."
Roger gave her a confused look.
"The one that I got AIDS from," Mimi said, quietly.
"Mimi," Roger whispered, starting to rub her shoulder but Mimi pulled away.
"I had a boyfriend at the time. He'd still follow me around during school, and later during the night. One night I was walking back from a party, and I guess I was pretty stoned."
"What happened?" Roger asked, quietly.
"I didn't want to. He did it anyway," Mimi said, not looking at him.
"You mean he . . . raped you?" Roger said, softly.
"If that's what you'd call it," Mimi mumbled.
"Mimi! That's serious! Why didn't you tell you parents?"
Mimi scoffed. "Joel wouldn't have believed me. Even if he did, he would have said that I'd been asking for it all along. He'd only convince my mother to believe the same thing."
"Where does this guy live? I'll kill him, Mimi, I swear to God . . ."
"The last I heard of him, he'd been killed in a car accident. He was drinking," she added.
Roger shook his head. "Jesus fucking Christ."
"I just remember . . . when he . . . did it . . .I was pretty messed up, but I just remember he had a tattoo of a girl's name on his chest."
"What was the name?" Roger asked, softly.
All of a sudden, Mimi looked frightened. "I don't want to talk about it," she said, rising to her feet, suddenly. "I want to go home."
"Alright," Roger said quietly, wrapping his arm around her.
He stroked her cheek as the two of them walked home, but Mimi seemed to occupied in her own thoughts to notice.
"So . . . how was the hearing?" Maureen bombarded Joanne as soon as she walked in the door.
"Oh, God. You would not BELIEVE," Joanne exclaimed, setting down her suitcase,
"Boring?" Maureen guessed.
"No. It was actually very interesting. Not at all like the other one's I've been to. You know, I have a degree that I never used. Maybe I should try to become a real court case lawyer," Joanne said, thoughtfully.
"You?" Maureen said, surprised.
"Why? You don't think I could do it?" Joanne demanded.
"No, it's not that . . . I just couldn't imagine you as a big court case lawyer. You're just . . . Joanne."
"Well, that doesn't say much," Joanne said, rolling her eyes.
"I didn't mean it in a bad way!" Maureen persisted.
Joanne shrugged. "Whatever." She poured herself a glass of ice water from the sink. "How was the wedding?"
"Oh, it was beautiful," Maureen gushed. "Karmine was beautiful. You should have seen me, though. I'm lucky I didn't drown all the guests with my crying."
"You ALWAYS cry," Joanne commented, taking a sip of water.
"What's THAT supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. You're just very overly dramatic."
"Overly dramatic?" Maureen exclaimed. "You mean as in a drama queen?"
Joanne frowned. "It's not a bad thing, Maureen. You have to admit, though. You are sort of a drama queen."
"I am NOT a drama queen!" Maureen declared.
"Mo, calm down!" Joanne exclaimed. "I was just kidding."
"You always make fun of every little thing I do," Maureen huffed.
"Yeah, well what about you? Laughing it up when I suggested that I wanted to be a more serious lawyer."
"I don't see why we're together if we can't even have a civil conversation with each other," Maureen shot back.
An angry look came over Joanne's face. "Fine. I'll go then." She went into the hallway to retrieve the still-packed suitcase.
"Pookie, wait- I just overreacted," Maureen pleaded, following Joanne to the door.
Joanne sighed. "You're always 'overreacting'." Mo, I think we both need some time on our own right now. I can stay with my mother in New Jersey. I just think we should spend some time apart."
"Fine. Go home to your mother and become some big lawyer. See if I care," Maureen snapped.
"See? You're overreacting about this too."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Fine! Just go then!"
"I will."
"Good!"
"Fine."
"Fine!"
Joanne closed the door quickly behind her.
Maureen groaned, pushing her curly hair behind her ears and rubbing her temples.
"Fuck," she muttered.
"Are you having fun?"
A smile lit up Mark's face. "Hi Jan."
He was sitting in his bedroom with the cordless phone cradled between his chin and shoulder.
"Just thought I'd call and see how you're doing."
"I'm fine. I miss you though."
"I miss you too, Marky."
Mark smiled. "How the funeral going?" he asked, his tone becoming a bit more serious.
"The funeral's tomorrow. And the waking."
"Oh, um. Sounds fun?" Mark said, awkwardly.
"Yeah, I'd rather pay my respects and not actually see the body," Mark heard Jan sigh. "But what can you do?"
"So you're at your parent's house now?"
"Yup. First I was swarmed with about fifty of my relatives. And A quarter of them I didn't even know."
Mark laughed. "Typical."
"The last funeral I went to was April's."
Mark was silent for a moment.
"Are you there, Mark?"
"Yeah, I'm here. That just sort of caught me off guard."
"I'm sorry."
"You know, Roger never went to April's funeral."
"I thought not. Otherwise I probably would have recognized his face."
"It was too much for him. After she died, he was a wreck. He couldn't pull himself together enough to be able to go out to the funeral."
"I understand."
"You should have seen him. I was afraid to leave the Loft because I was afraid he'd kill himself." Mark paused. "But then he went into withdrawal. And then later he met Mimi." He smiled with the memory of Roger first talking to him about Mimi at St. Mark's place last Christmas eve.
"I'm glad he's found someone else that he's happy with."
"Me too. I mean, know one can ever replace April . . ."
"I know what you mean, Mark. No one CAN ever replace her."
"Yeah," Mark said, sighing, softly.
"Shit. Mark, I've gotta go. Dinner time with the 'rents."
Mark laughed. "The ''Rents?''
"What, am I too old to use that word? I'll talk to you later, Mark. I love you."
"I love you too," Mark said, as he head the phone click.
He stared at it for a few moments before getting up to return it to its cradle.
"Mimi?"
"Mmm?"
"Could you tell me what's bothering you?"
"Nothing's bothering me, baby."
"When I asked you about the name, you got all weird."
They were in Roger's bedroom, preparing to go to bed.
"It's nothing . . .I don't even remember the name."
"Mimi, you know I can tell when you're not telling the truth."
Mimi sighed. "Okay. I WAS pretty drunk that night. But I know for a fact that the name the guy tattooed on his chest was 'April.'"
Roger was silent. "Not the same one?" he whispered.
"I honestly don't know, Roger. She could have been an old ex of his or something."
Roger didn't hear her. All he could think of was the fact that Mimi and April might have both gotten AIDS from the same person.
"That bastard," he growled. "If he wasn't dead already I'd kill him myself."
"Roger, what's done is done," Mimi said, softly. "There's only NOW."
Roger sighed, taking Mimi's hand in his.
"If you want I can try and find out more from Jan about April's old boyfriend."
Roger sighed. "You don't have to."
Mimi gave him a surprised look. "Are you sure?"
Roger nodded. He didn't want the truth to be told to him. Even though that in his heart, he believed that it was true.
"Okay. I'm going to bed now," Mimi said softly.
"Alright," Roger leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. "Goodnight, baby."
"Goodnight." Mimi turned off the light.
Roger lay awake in his bed for a long time, staring at the ceiling until his eyes began to strain.
Finally, he closed them, and finally drifted off into sleep.