NOVEMBER

CHAPTER 7

*Thanks Kelby, elodie, Eponine54, Daydreamer731, and Alisson for the reviews.

And elodie: yep, I've seen the pics of Adam as the emcee in Cabaret. *squeals* ohh man.

Coughing.

Roger sat up in bed and looked around, eyes scanning his dark room. It was close to four in the morning, and it didn't take him long to notice that Jen wasn't in bed anymore.

There it was again—that coughing sound. He hated it. When Mimi was getting bad towards the end, she was always coughing nonstop, even when she took her meds. It unnerved him.

He slipped out of bed, pulling on a faded black band t-shirt in the process and opened his door. Walking into the living room, he found Jen on the couch, a box of tissues near her feet and a bottle of Tylenol on the coffee table.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, taking a seat next to her.

Jen smiled weakly and shrugged. "I guess. My chest feels like it's going to explode."

"But you were fine when we were at your apartment before packing," he said, placing his hand on her forehead. "You have a fever."

"No shit?" she grinned, turning her face away from him and coughing into her hand. Roger walked into the bathroom and got the thermometer.

"Open."

Jen did, and he slipped it under her tongue. She rested her head in Roger's lap and pulled it out two minutes later. "Read it."

Roger held it up to the light and checked the numbers. "101.8."

"Ugh." Jen groaned.

"I'm putting you to bed. You can watch I Love Lucy later," he grinned, picking her up in his arms, blanket and all.

"Is this because you just want to play doctor?" she asked. Roger tucked her under the covers and kissed her forehead.

"No. Not that playing doctor would be a bad thing," he laughed, shutting the lamp off.

"True," she yawned.

"I'm taking you to the doctor tomorrow night if you still have a fever."

"Mmhmm."

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Roger woke up to the sound of giggling the next morning. He opened one eye to find Abby playing with his hair, a big smile on her face.

"Hi," she greeted. "Sorry I was playing with it."

Roger grinned and grabbed her around the waist, putting her in the middle of the bed. Jen was sound asleep. "That's okay. Marky up yet?"

Abby shrugged. "I dunno. He snores."

Roger laughed. "I know." He checked the clock and realized it was close to 8:30. "Your grandma's coming soon to get you."

"Oh man."

"Oh man?"

"Yeah."


Roger shook his head and helped her off the bed. She climbed onto the barstool and watched Roger as he opened the cabinets, looking for something to eat. "Poptarts or Cap'n Crunch?"

"How about Dunkin Donuts?" Collins asked, slamming the loft door.

"Oooh!" Abby squealed.

"Guess you lost out on that one Rog," he laughed as Abby hugged Collins around his leg.

"Sorry Rog," Abby mimicked, taking a chocolate donut with sprinkles out of the bag.

Roger handed Collins a cup of coffee and took a seat at the island, Abby right next to him.

"Can I have some of that?" she asked, pointing to Roger's coffee cup.

Roger shook his head. "Nah. Sorry, you're not old enough. How about hot chocolate instead?"

"I'll get it. You're still on liquid probation." Collins headed towards the cabinet and pulled a box of hot chocolate out.

"Hey, that wasn't intentional, the microwave exploding and all."

Mark shuffled into the kitchen and took a seat across from Roger, grinning. "Not the infamous microwave story."

"Shut the fu-hell-be quiet," Roger finished, laughing.

"Nice parenting," Mark laughed.

Abby tugged on Roger's arm. "You killed the microwave?"

Roger grinned. "Kind of. Collins had his coffee in there and instead of putting it on 3 minutes, I put it on for 30, and we all forgot about it."

Abby shook her head and took a bite of her donut. "Loser."

Mark high fived Abby over the table. "She called you a loser Rog. Abby one, Roger zero."

Roger flipped him off as Collins chuckled.

"Stop that. You're a bad influence," Mark said.

"So ANYWAY," Roger said, ignoring Mark. "Why are you here so early Collins?"

Collins gripped his chest and pretended to be hurt. "Oh, so now I need a reason to be here so early with you shmucks? Just came by to drop off breakfast and share the news—Alison has been in labor since 2 AM."

"Really?" Mark asked. He added sugar to his coffee and flung the empty packet at Roger. Abby giggled when it hit him square in the forehead.

"That poor bastard," Roger laughed. "He's probably gonna make his kid pay rent too."

"Don't be cruel," Jen said, yawning and coming into the kitchen. She was carrying a box of tissues and had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

"Sorry," Roger grinned sheepishly.

"Morning Mommy. Want some?" Abby asked, waving half of a pop tart.

Jen shook her head and took a seat on the couch. "No thanks baby. I don't feel that great."

"Are you going to work today?" Mark asked.

Jen shook her head and reached for the phone. "I'm going to take the rest of the week off. Well not technically take the week off, but have my boss email me my assignment for the week," she said.

"Okay." Mark took the donut box from Roger, who glared at him.

"I kind of wanted those."

"Oops. Sorry." Mark shoved the donut in his mouth and grabbed his coat. "I'm out of here."

Roger stared at him. "Coming to the gig tonight?"

"Not that I would ever miss it," Mark grinned, disappearing out the door.

Jen covered the mouthpiece of the phone. "I thought the gig was Friday night?"

"It was, but Wes called and said that Robbie wanted us there tonight to play for the Thursday night crowd," Roger said, taking a sip of his coffee. "I have to bartend at 6."

"Oh. Okay." Jen hung up the phone and walked off into the other room. She was back out fully changed into a shirt and jeans and clutching her laptop two minutes later. She had just plugged it into the phone line when the doorbell buzzed.

"Is that grandma?" Abby asked, climbing off the barstool and running over to the door.

Jen looked up and smiled. "Probably."

Roger stood up to help Abby open the door, and a middle aged woman with light brown hair appeared, dressed in what he assumed was an expensive pantsuit ensemble. "Hi Mrs. Walsh."

She studied him for a moment before responding. "Hello Roger. I see you haven't changed a bit." She bent down to Abby's level and gave her a tight hug. "And how is my beautiful grandbaby?"

"Good."

"Ready to go to Boston?"

Abby nodded. "Uh huh." Abby ran off to her room and reappeared with her stuffed pink panther and a mini suitcase. "Let's go."

"Hi mom," Jen said, standing up and helping Abby into her black pea coat. "Collins, this is my mom Rebecca. Mom, this is my old friend and professor Tom Collins."

Rebecca stuck out her hand politely, and Collins shook it. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Collins responded, sipping his coffee.

Rebecca turned and surveyed the room. She glanced from kitchen to floor to ceiling to bedrooms—even the bathroom. "I have to say I liked your place much better."

"Mom."

"What? It certainly was nicer, and warmer. I hope Abby doesn't get sick from living here. You look like hell yourself Jenna."

Jen stared at her. "I have a cold."

"Oh. You look like you put some weight on too," she added.

Roger glared at Rebecca, but Collins shook his head at him. He sighed and crossed his arms out of frustration. Roger remembered how much Jen's mother hassled her in high school—about grades, clothes, her car, her job—everything, but especially her weight. Jen had always been small, and as a senior in high school she was barely a size 3. He could never figure out why her mother ragged on her so much for it—even now he estimated that she was still a size 3, although she had filled out more in places where she was previously tiny.

"Um. Thanks," Jen mumbled.

"I'd love to stay and chat, but your father's waiting outside in the car. We'll see you Sunday night then." Rebecca gave Jen a quick kiss on the cheek and took Abby's hand in her own.

"Bye sweetie." Jen bent down to give Abby a kiss and a hug, holding the door open for Rebecca.

"Bye Roger. Bye Mom," Abby said.

"Goodbye Roger," Rebecca added.

"Bye," he said. Jen shut the door and immediately busied herself with her laptop. She curled up onto the couch with it and rested her chin in her hand as she checked her email. Roger stared at her, but Collins cleared his throat.

"I better get going. I'll see you both later tonight at the gig."

"Bye," Jen said unenthusiastically, not even bothering to look up from the screen.

"Later Collins," Roger added. When the door shut again, Roger took a seat next to Jen.

"You okay?" he asked, stroking her hair.

"M'fine," she said quietly, placing her laptop on the coffee table. "I'm gonna take a shower."

Roger nodded. "Oh. Okay. Don't listen to your Mom."

Jen shrugged. "I said I'm fine."

"No you're not."

"I said I'm fine Roger, okay? Just drop it." She walked into the bathroom and slammed the door, leaving a puzzled Roger still seated on the couch.

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"Jen? You almost done?" Mark asked, lightly knocking on Roger's bedroom door. "We've gotta leave soon or we won't get good seats."

"Or a good table!" Maureen added.

"Yeah. In a minute," she answered. She finished with her lip gloss and tossed it back in her makeup bag before taking a final look at herself in the mirror. It had taken her a hell of a long time to get ready, considering she hadn't really been out much in the past few months. She finally decided on a pair of tight faded jeans and a black strapless top that crisscrossed over her back. She knew from experience how hot these clubs could get and figured she was better off with something that wouldn't keep her sweltering throughout the night. Grabbing her purse off the bed, she slipped into her stiletto heels and flung the door open. Maureen was fluffing her hair in the mirror near the door and Joanne was putting on her coat.

Mark turned and grinned at her. "You look great."

"Oh. Thanks," she blushed, running her fingers through her straight hair. "It's been awhile since I've been out."

"Roger will approve," Collins added.

"Yeah, and so will twenty other scumbags at the gig," Maureen said, rolling her eyes. She turned around and smiled at Jen. "But you do look great sweetie. How the hell do you pull off those shoes?"

Jen shrugged. "I'm not sure. I think they're comfortable, for me at least."

"My feet would be on fire by the end of the night."

Mark laughed. "As well as other parts of your body."

"Shush," she said, grinning. "Ready?"

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The club was smoky—and packed when they arrived. Jen, Mark, Maureen, Joanne, and Collins quickly found a table up front and off to the left side of the stage.

"Anyone see Roger?" Maureen asked, grabbing a cocktail off of the waiter's tray. Joanne sighed and pulled her down in the seat.

"Nah, I don't see him," Jen said. She scanned the room but gave up quickly after a few minutes. "I think I'm gonna get a drink from the bar."

Mark nodded. "Want some company?"

"Nah. I'll be back in a few."

Jen pushed her way through the crowd and headed for the bar. It had been a long time coming since she had drank much of anything to give her a buzz, but considering Abby was always at her heels, there wasn't much time for beer in between re runs of Full House and Sesame Street. She ignored the stares and whistles and stood near the end of the bar, brushing her hair over her shoulder.

"What'll it be?"

"Um, apple martini."

The bartender stared at her. "You look underage. Have any ID?"

Jen glared at him. "I'm 25 fucking years old. I'm a mother of a three year old. I'm friends with Roger Davis. Give me the fucking drink."

"Oh. Davis huh? Sorry about that." He started mixing the drink. "Davis got another girlfriend?"

"What do you think?"

"He's always got lots of girlfriends."

Jen sighed and took the drink from her. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

"So are you another one night stand too? He giving you the time of day yet?"

"Excuse me?" Jen said angrily.

"Jesus, shut the hell up Tim. Leave the poor girl alone."

"Yeah yeah." Tim walked away and Jen turned around. A woman with blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail was sitting on the barstool next to where Jen was standing.

"Thanks," Jen said, smiling at her.

"No problem. Lori Marcaly," she introduced.

"Jen Walsh."

Lori smiled, taking a sip of her own cocktail. "So you said you're friends with Roger? Friends with benefits, girlfriend, fiancée? Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if you were his wife," she joked.

Jen laughed. "Girlfriend. I guess you can say that. Do you know him?"

Lori nodded. "Yeah. My husband Wes is the drummer for the Hungarians."

"Oh. I was looking for Roger before. Couldn't find him. Kind of gave up."

Lori stood up. "Follow me. I'll get you backstage. That's where they all hide out before the gig," she smiled.

Jen followed, maneuvering her way past the tables. "Thanks. So how long have you and Wes been married?"

"A little over a year. We tied the knot in September, right before our daughter was born in January."

"Oh congratulations," Jen said.

"Thanks. You have a three year old?"

Jen nodded. "She's a handful, but I love her to death. She keeps me sane."

"I agree with that. I usually don't bring Gwen here, but tonight my mom couldn't make it up to the city from Jersey to watch her for me, so she's backstage with Wes. Hopefully still in one piece, although I'm sure the word fuck will make it somewhere in her vocabulary by the end of the night," she laughed. Lori stopped in front of a tall, built man with a security badge on his jacket. "Hey Vinnie.

"Lori M, long time no see. How's the baby?"

"She's with Wes, so let's hope she's good."

"Who's your friend?" he asked, studying Jen.

"Jen Walsh, Roger's girlfriend."

"Can you prove that?" he said, seriously. When Jen just stared at him, he cracked a smile. "I was only kidding. Have fun ladies."

"Thanks," Lori said. She led Jen down the backstage hallway and paused outside a small room with a beat up door. She pushed it open to find Roger, Wes, and two other members of the band seated on couches and watching football on TV. Wes was holding a sleeping Gwen propped up against his shoulder, rocking her every so often. "Hey boys." Roger practically jumped out of his seat when he noticed Jen standing there. He walked over to her and grinned.

"Hey."

"Hey," she answered. Roger pulled her over to the couch with him and settled her on his lap.

"You have a hard time getting back here?"

"If you mean did I have to show anyone my tits, then no," she laughed, resting her head against his shoulder.

"Not that tits are a bad thing to see half the time."

"Jen, this is Evan, Wes, and Travis."

"So who made the comment?"

"That would be Travis," Wes said, handing Gwen over to Lori.

"Looooriii! Lori in the house!"

"Shut up Evan. You sound like an ass," Wes said.

Evan flipped him off. "At least I don't look like one."

Lori laughed. "Hey, are you calling my husband ugly?"

"Takes one to know one," Travis added in a singsong voice.  He stood up and started screaming at the TV. "COME ON BUTTFUCKS! YOU JUST GOT A FUCKING PENALTY! Asswipes."

Roger rolled his eyes and helped Jen up. "Let's go for a walk."

"Sure." She grabbed her martini with one hand and linked her fingers through Roger's with the other.

"Ah, young love," Travis said, batting his eyelashes.

"Leave Rog alone. Just because you don't have Theresa here right now to suck you off in the broom closet doesn't mean you gotta rag on our Roger here," Wes warned. Laughter erupted just as Roger closed the door.

Roger led Jen through the back hallway and out the exit door. They were greeted with a cold breeze of air, and he tightened his grip around Jen's shoulders. "I don't think I told you how great you look tonight. Really."

Jen laughed and wrapped her arm around Roger's back as they headed down 2nd Avenue. "Just great huh? Kind of feel like it's prom all over again." Jen smirked at the look on Roger's face and deepened her voice. "You know uh Jen, you look great tonight. Beautiful. Please oh please have my babies in the back of my car. Oh come on baby." She started cracking up and took off at a run down the street.

"You're dead Walsh."

"Oh yeah? Come and get me then!" she yelled, trying to keep her balance in her heels. Roger dodged a patch of ice and sped after her, finally grabbing her by the waist.

He kissed her neck and placed his arms around her. "We already had the baby part."

"We did." She looked up at him, the streetlights casting a glow on the ice patch they were huddled over. "Wanna go home and go through the process?" she teased. "God my feet hurt now."

"Do I get lingerie in this package?" He picked her up and carried her down the street as she took of her heels and carried them in her hands.

"Hmm." She grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Maybe?"

They walked the rest of the block in silence, before Roger finally set her down outside the exit door at the back of the club. "Jen?"

She looked at him. "Yeah?"

"If I told you I loved you right now what would you say?"

"What do you mean?"

"If I stood here right now and told you that I cared about you, loved you, and wanted to be with you and Abby for however long I have left, what would you say?"

Jen didn't even have to think about her answer. She already knew what it was. "I love you too. I always have."

"Even though I hurt you?"

"Rog, just because all that shit happened between us doesn't mean that I don't care about you. When I walked into the loft last week, I didn't know where the hell anything was going to lead me. I didn't even know if you would want to be around Abby or me—but I had to give it a shot. I owed it at least to myself, and to her. Look at her now, she loves being around you. She idolizes you. You can't say that doesn't make you feel that you did at least one thing right? I don't care that you weren't there for me from the beginning when I had her—because you're here for me now. I love you. Abby loves you. We'll always love you." Jen buried her face in his chest and he kissed the top of her head.

"I love you Jen. I don't care who knows it."

"I know baby. Now go back in there and kick some ass," she said, leading him through the door.

"Do I get a piece of ass later?"

"Don't kill the moment."

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