CHAPTER 29
* * * *
A WEEK AND A HALF LATERMark taped up the cardboard box he had just finished packing and pushed it aside.
"Okay. I finished with the rest of Abby's things. The rest of her toys and books are in there."
Jen looked up closet and nodded. "Great. Thanks." She leaned over and pulled out a handful of child size hangars and put them in another box. "Did Roger say when he was getting off of work?"
Mark shook his head. "No. Probably around ten, maybe."
"Yeah." Jen pushed the boxes together and walked out into the living room. "I guess I should take these over to my new place then."
"Hey, do you need any help?"
"Um, maybe just getting the boxes into my car, but other than that, not really. I just have a lot to unpack yet. Mostly my room, the kitchen stuff, and Abby's."
He nodded slowly. "If you're sure."
"I am." Jen smiled and ruffled Mark's hair. "And you can stop being so nice to me because of what happened with me and Roger."
"I'm not just being nice to you because of that…" Mark tried to defend himself.
"You're too nice Marky. But that's why I love you." She picked up a box and was just about to open the loft door when Roger opened it and walked right inside. He was holding a cigarette and blew the smoke right out in Jen's face.
"Oh. Sorry. Didn't see you there."
Jen rolled her eyes. "Of course you didn't."
Mark caught the slight smirk that had formed on the edge of Roger's lips and shot him a look. Roger didn't seem to catch it and instead kept smoking his cigarette.
"What?" Roger asked him.
"Don't be immature."
Roger laughed and shrugged. "I wasn't being immature. Tell her that I'm sorry then."
"Why don't you tell her herself when she comes back from her car?" Mark reminded him.
"Because I don't have anything to say to someone that's trying to keep my daughter from me or threatening to take me to court," Roger shot back.
Jen reentered the loft and passed through the living room into Abby's room. She walked back out a few seconds later with another box, on her way back downstairs to put it in the trunk of her car.
Mark really didn't want to get involved with this, but he did want to see what would happen if he went along with Roger's little game. Maybe they would end up talking to each other after all.
"Jen, Roger says he's sorry for blowing the smoke into your face."
She laughed and kicked the door open. "Then you can tell Roger that I don't give a shit if he's sorry, because he's acting like a dick. As a matter of fact, his name probably should be Dick, considering his brains really are only in that area of his body."
Roger didn't really have a good response worked up, so instead he resulted to name-calling. "Bitch."
"Yeah." Jen slid her jacket on and picked up the box once again. "See you guys later. In your case Roger, hopefully later than sooner, but I couldn't be that lucky."
"Probably not. Like I said, I'm planning on being at the bar picking up a new girl tonight," he shot back.
Jen shrugged. "Have fun. Hope she puts up with as much shit as I did with you." She slammed the door and Mark heard her retreating footsteps pound down the stairs.
"Did you really have to do that?" Mark sighed. He dumped the ashtray and cigarette butts into the trash, placing it back onto the coffee table. "I mean, two weeks ago you were proclaiming your love for her. You were engaged to her. Christ, you two wanted another kid. And now you're hating each other?"
"Shit happens."
"Roger, don't you get it? You keep treating Jen like this, she'll never let you see Abby, and you'll miss out on seeing your daughter grow up with the time you have left. Do you really want that?"
Roger let out a frustrated sigh and ran his fingers through his spiky blonde hair. "Of course I don't want that! But Jen's making this so fucking hard! She's barely spoken to me in the week and a half since we fought. Fuck it, what am I supposed to do?"
"Tomorrow's Valentine's Day," Mark reminded him softly.
He laughed and put lit up another cigarette. "Maybe for you and Maureen it might be, but for me, who's single, it's not anything special," Roger replied bitterly.
"You can't have that kind of attitude! And don't bring Maureen into this. Me and her aren't on the best terms right now either."
"Well at least she's not pulling a Jen on you," Roger argued. "I gotta get out of here for the night. Maybe I'll hit up the club with Wes or something."
"Just be careful," Mark warned him. "And don't get involved in anything you can't handle."
"I can take care of myself."
Mark watched as Roger left the apartment and slammed the door. He didn't know what to expect from him anymore.
* * * *
"How can you just leave me standing? Alone in a world that's so cold? Maybe I'm just too demanding—maybe I'm just like my father, too bold—"
Maureen rolled over and groaned. "Mark, stop," she whined. "It's too early."
"It's noon," he laughed. "Not too early for you to get up. Plus you have that interview with that new agent guy at two. You take forever to get ready."
She sat up in the bed and ran her fingers through her tangled curly hair. "Mmm I almost forgot. I really don't want to get up."
"Don't make me chase you, even doves have pride—"
"Agh!" Maureen laughed. "If you keep that up, you'll be the filmmaker formerly known as Mark Cohen."
"Oh funny." He watched her stand up and pull on a gray sweatshirt jacket over her white tee shirt and red plaid pajama pants. Mark came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her slender stomach, flipping her upside down over his shoulder.
"Mark! Goddammit!" she giggled. "Cut it out!"
Mark playfully slapped her ass before setting her back down on the couch. "I want to take you out to dinner tonight."
"Marky, you don't have to. Can't we just stay in?"
He frowned and nodded. "If you want to, but I just figured you needed a change of scenery. Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm just tired. I'd rather spend the night in laying on the couch with you then getting dressed to go out," Maureen pouted.
Mark leaned over and kissed her gently. "Okay. If that's what you want to do, we will." He looked up and saw Roger walk into the apartment with a paper bag and a cup of coffee. "Hey."
"Fuck off."
Maureen whistled and rested her head against the back of the couch. "Sunshine."
"What part of fuck off didn't you understand?" Roger argued bitterly, before slamming the door to his bedroom.
Mark ignored him and shook his head. "Whatever. He's been like that for the past two weeks."
"I think he just needs to go and talk to Jen."
"Maybe. But he's too damn stubborn for his own good," Mark added. "Eventually he will."
"Yeah. I hope so." Maureen linked her hand through Mark's and smiled. "We can go out to dinner tomorrow night though. I think I'll feel more up to it. I just feel like staying in tonight."
He smiled and kissed her again. "Hungry?"
"Not really."
"Coffee then?" he asked.
"Sure sweetie."
* * * *
"Uncle Collins! Look what I can do!"
Collins set down the red pen he was using to grade term papers and laughed. "Okay, show me."
Abby pushed a strand of blonde hair away from her face and bit her lip. She looked like whatever she was about to do required a great amount of concentration. Before Collins could react, the toddler executed a perfectly angled cartwheel on the thin rug that covered Jen's new apartment. She threw her hands up in the air and giggled.
"Ta-da! Was I good?"
He nodded and planted a kiss on her cheek. "You were very good. So do you like your tumbling class?"
Abby nodded and smiled. "Mommy says that for my fourth birthday she's signing me up for a regular gymnastics class!" She held up four fingers and wiggled them. "Cause my teacher says I'm real good."
"Just be careful. There's not mats in the apartment like there are in the gym," he reminded her.
"I know." Abby sat down in the middle of the floor and looked up at Collins. "How come Roger hasn't been here yet?"
Uh oh. Collins swallowed and thought carefully about how he was going to approach this situation. "Well—"
Luckily, Jen had just gotten home and opened the apartment door. "Hey!" She dropped the two bags of groceries on the ground and took off her coat. "God is it cold out there!"
"Mommy!" Abby stood up and ran over to her mother, giving her a quick hug around the knees.
"Hi sweetie." Jen crouched down and kissed her on the cheek. "What'd you and Collins do?"
"Nothing. I showed him my cartwheel and he drew on papers."
Collins laughed. "You mean I graded papers."
Abby shrugged and nodded. "Yeah. That too."
"Okay okay. How about you go and put away your toys so I can get dinner started?"
"Okay Mommy."
Collins headed into the kitchen with Jen and started to help her put away groceries once Abby went into her new bedroom. "So, how was work?"
"It was okay. First time back in the office for a while now. I picked up my new assignment and juggled a few phone calls back and forth, but it felt good to be back."
"Yeah. Are you still going to be working from home?"
"I have to." Jen put the orange juice in the fridge and closed it gently. "I'm not about to send Abby to daycare again. I'd rather have her here with me and if I need to, my friend Michelle can watch her on the days I have to go into the office."
"Or I could always watch her."
"I suppose. I just don't want to burden you—"
"Jen." Collins lightly placed his hand on her arm. "I can't tell you I know how you're feeling about what happened between you and Roger, but I can say that I have been in a similar situation. Frankly, it sucks. It's one of the worst feelings to ever to experience. But what I can tell you is that I'm here for you and Abby. If you need someone to watch her, either Logan or myself can. You're not burdening us. We love her. We love you. We're all here for you. Don't ever think that you're bothering us."
Jen nodded and kissed Collins on the cheek. "Thank you."
"Anytime. I just—honestly, how are you doing?"
She shrugged her shoulders limply and tucked a strand of her light brown hair behind her ear. "I'm okay. For lack of a better word. It was a lot harder last time. I was pregnant and so attached to him. I mean, he had been cheating on me for almost eight months behind my back when I finally left, but right now, it's different. I can't lock myself in a room for a week and cry my eyes out. I have to take care of Abby. She's my first priority. Not myself."
"Yeah."
"I'm sorry." Jen placed the pot on the stove and started boiling the water. "I don't really want to talk about Roger or this anymore. I'm sorry."
Collins shook his head. "No, no. I just wanted to know how you were coping."
"Well thank you for asking, but really, I think I'll be okay. Eventually." She tried to plaster a fake smile on her face when she glanced up at him. "Did you want to stay for dinner?"
"Oh, no. Thanks for the invite, but I have to head back. Logan's cooking for me tonight anyway. Plus, I really have to write out lesson plans for next week. Couch potato college students and all."
Jen laughed. "Suit yourself. I'll see you later, and thank you for watching Abby for me. She loves it when you come by. Just uh, can you try to see if Roger's interested in seeing her at all this week? I can drop her off and pick her up later on…"
"Sure. I'll bring it up with him when I see him tomorrow."
"Thanks." Jen rested her hand on her head and sighed. "I can't believe I forgot to pick up Tylenol at the store. Dammit."
"Why? What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I've just been having bad headaches on and off this week. It's just annoying. I'm getting tired of it," she told him.
"I'll drop some off tomorrow if you need me to."
"Thanks Collins."
* * * *
"Hey!" Wes slammed his drink down on the black club table and laughed. "Mike, pour my man Roger here another shot—"
"Another round of Absolut on the house!" Evan hollered out. He sucked on his cigarette and blew out a chain of smoke into the air. "What's the word I'm looking for? We're getting shunk? Shook?" He wrapped his arm tighter around the brunette sitting on his lap and started planting kisses along her neck, down to her cleavage.
"That would be drunk, my man," Mike the bartender called out. He poured a set of ten shots into glasses and brought it over on a tray.
The brunette on his lap giggled as Evan started whispering in her ear. Roger drummed his fingers on the table and threw back a shot, thankful that he was starting to get slightly buzzed. He was starting to think less and less about Jen as the night wore on, which was a good thing. For the past week, all he had thought about was Jen. Tonight, hanging around with his friends and having a handful of beautiful girls wandering around, he was slightly distracted. It hadn't felt this good to be single in a long time.
Wes shook his head. "Nope, he's looking for shit faced. Because that's what we're all gonna be by the end of tonight!"
"Hell yeah!" Evan pushed his stack of empty shot glasses aside and started rolling a joint right at the table. "What did you say your name was again?" he slurred at the girl.
"Tracey," she laughed. She took the joint from Evan and took a long drag.
"Roger, why don't you get yourself acquainted with some of the fine ladies that have wandered into this club?" Wes asked him. He took a sip from the beer bottle and laughed.
Roger lit up another cigarette, waving some of the lingering smoke out of his face. "Maybe later."
"You still hanging onto that Jen chick?" Evan blurted out. "You got to get yourself a quick lay. Hey Wes, what's Travis up to tonight?"
"Um—" Wes noticed the angry look that had formed on Roger's face and shrugged. "No idea. Meeting with his probation officer. He's not aloud in the club anyway. He can't come near Roger either. You know this."
"Oh yeah. Right." Evan took the joint back from Tracey and took a drag before passing it to Wes and Roger. "I'm shook, man. How the hell am I supposed to get home?"
"Take a cab," Roger suggested.
"Or you could come back to my place," Tracey said suggestively, her hand traveling up Evan's thigh.
"Sounds like a date to me," he slurred. "Hot shit. Some fine ladies just walked in, Davis. Tap that."
Roger looked over Evan's shoulder. A group of girls had just walked in, loudly talking and joking with each other. A few of them looked underage, but before he could turn away, two of them passed right by the table. The taller and thicker brunette had chin length styled hair that accented her hazel eyes. He took one look at her and knew she was on something—some sort of drug. Her friend was shorter, closer to Jen's height of five five, and had curly blonde hair that had lowlights of a dark brown throughout the strands. Both were dressed in tight club clothes, and they were heading to the bar, which was conveniently about ten feet away from Roger's table.
"Beth is tripping on the E tonight. Rum and Coke!" the brunette laughed obnoxiously as she placed her drink order.
The blonde, Beth, laughed and drummed her fingers on the edge of the counter. "Not tonight. I told you, I'd do anything but ecstasy. It's pointless and I don't like it." The bartender handed the girls their drinks and the brunette grabbed her friend's arm and laughed again.
"I'll see you later tonight. Maybe." She disappeared into the crowd of people that had gotten up to dance. Beth turned around carelessly and walked right into the back of Roger's chair, spilling her drink over his shoulder and onto the table in front of him.
"Oh shit. I'm sorry," she apologized. Beth grabbed a stack of napkins off of the table and started wiping it up. "I'm so clumsy."
Roger set his cigarette down in the ashtray and shrugged. He grabbed a napkin and wiped off the small amount of liquid that had gotten onto his shoulder. "Don't worry about it."
She smiled at him and Roger could make her face out more clearly underneath the dim club lights. She was very pretty, and wasn't wearing a lot of makeup. She didn't need to. "Thanks. I should have watched where I was going." She eyed the lighter that was on the table and pulled out a cigarette from the pack in her purse. "You mind if I get a light?"
He shook his head and lit the cigarette for her. "Nope."
Beth sat down next to him and blew out the smoke into the air. "So what brings you here?"
"Don't have anything better to do," Roger laughed. "You?"
"Same. Looking for a good time, in a non hooker type of way."
Got a light?
I know you—you're shivering--
Roger pushed that memory out of the back of his mind and took another drink of his beer. Mimi. He didn't need to think about her right now. "I uh—know what you mean."
"So what's your name?" Beth leaned over a little bit and took a shot off of the tray. Roger tried to avoid staring down her shirt as she did that, but it was nearly impossible.
"Roger." He looked at her discreetly as she ate the cherry that had been resting in the drink off of the stem. "Yours?" He rested his hand against his pounding head. He was really starting to feel buzzed.
"Beth."
You're staring again. Roger blinked and swallowed another sip of his drink. "So your friend's into ecstasy?"
"Yeah." Beth nodded. "It's not for me."
"What is for you?"
She shrugged and crushed out the cigarette. "Pot, coke, occasionally heroin. I have to be really in the mood for that though. I know this probably sounds stupid, but it takes my mind off a lot of things and makes me feel better about myself. I guess I'm a statistic."
"Yeah." Roger swallowed. "You like to feel good?"
"Pretty much. Now and then, maybe."
Mimi. Mimi had said that to him. Nothing was making sense and his thoughts were swirling together.
"Whatever works."
"So are you into anything?"
Roger stared at her. "What?"
"Drugs?" She laughed and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "What are you into?"
"I used to be a heroin addict. I went through withdrawal for six months."
"Ouch. Well, you must have been really addicted then," she smiled. "I need to cut back."
"You should," he pointed out. "It's not really the best thing to be doing for your body."
Beth let out a laugh and stood up. "Maybe. I need to hit up my dealer tonight after I leave."
"Yeah."
"So, Roger, are you a dancer?"
He shrugged. "Depends on my mood. Why?"
She motioned to the floor where numerous people were bumping and grinding against each other. "Well then, you want to dance? Or we could just sit here and hang out?"
Roger stood up and felt Beth press her hand against his back as they made their way towards the crowd and the deejay. He figured it was wrong and he shouldn't be getting involved with someone like her, but his body was ignoring his mind. Not just because he was buzzed, but also because he didn't want to let her go. He was attracted to her in more ways then one, but he shouldn't have been. He kept telling himself no and tried to think of Jen, but nothing worked, and they kept dancing, hips pressed together and Beth's arms wrapped around his neck.
By the end of the night, as the music died down, Roger had learned more about Beth. She was originally from Miami, had just turned twenty-one years old, and was finishing up her degree in fashion design when she wasn't getting high, drinking, or shooting up. She had been getting modeling jobs on the side for the past two years, and he was amazed at how many semi famous people she name dropped to him in the last two hours.
Beth stacked her last shot glass onto a nearby table and tucked her hand into the back of Roger's jean pocket. "So what do you say about us getting out of here and going somewhere a little more quiet?"
He laughed and lit up another cigarette. "Where?"
She leaned up against him and rested her cheek against his. "My place sound okay to you?" she whispered into his ear.
At this point Roger didn't really care where he ended up. He knew he couldn't go back to the loft. Mark was already pissed off at him, and all he would get would be more shit about Jen. The club atmosphere and all the drinks he had consumed were definitely starting to influence his decision. He didn't think going back to Beth's would be so bad. She was beautiful, single, and had no real baggage like he did.
"Where's your place?"
She smiled and slid her arm around his waist. Roger hesitated at first, but quickly did the same. "Near Central Park. We'll have to take the subway."
* * * *
Review!
Prince's "When Doves Cry" was used in the line where Mark was singing to Maureen.