A/N- Hey everyone! So did you get the Rent soundtrack? You should, it's absolutely AMAZING, and the music's awesome. It's somewhat different but a great alternative for the OBC soundtrack, though we do miss some of the OBC's stuff! Favorite line, though? "Please sir, could you get me a little Moo?..." Fae's favorite line is Mark's- "With Nanette Himmelfarb. The Rabbi's daughter at the Scarsdale Jewish Community Center"- gotta love this one!

GAH can't wait for November 23rd!

Sorry about that emotional outburst... thanks guys for your reviews, and especially for breaking the "awww poor marky" pattern! Keep it up!

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Chapter Fifteen

Maureen was crazy. C-R-A-Z-Y. Mark didn't know how on earth he tolerated her for this long. This was probably the best thing for him though. At least he figured out how crazy she was then he wouldn't have to dwell on their relationship any longer. No more regrets. No more sorrow. She was officially out of his mind and he could throw that stupid memory box away. His life was going just as he wanted without Maureen intervening the way she did. He was doing all right with his filming, except for the fact that he couldn't find his stupid camera. He had great friends, who kept close ties with Maureen... okay, maybe like wasn't going the way he wanted. At least there wasn't much wrong with Michelle. He really liked her, and she understood him. As long as she was there, what could go wrong?

Mark opened the door to his loft, still a bit steamed, but had released some of it from walking. His jaw fell open. He froze.

"Mark, look at you!" She came toward him, arms open, and wrapping him into a hug.

"Mom?" asked Mark. She squeezed him tight, then finally let go, her eyes glittering with fresh tears.

"You look so handsome," she said. She was a blonde woman with Charlie Brown cheeks, about Mark's height. She was almost a stranger to him. And the man standing across from him was even more of a stranger.

"Smile for the camera, Mark," a familiar voice said from the side of him. Mark turned his head and saw Cindy with her video camera, grinning happily, her two kids on each of her leg. Mark gave her a look.

"Smile?" he asked her with a raised eyebrow. "What are you doing here? How did you get in? Is Roger home?" Roger wouldn't dare let them in, he knew how Mark felt about his parents. Or the least he would have done was call.

"Hi Mark." Michelle appeared from the other side of him. "I answered the door when you left me here and we've been getting to know each other."

"But why are you guys-" Mark started, but his mom interrupted.

"Cindy thought it would be a good idea if we got together for a small dinner...to work things out... I brought gefilte fish!"

"Again, with the fish," moaned Mark, nodding his head down.

"Mom, please, don't, you know how much the kids hate it-"

"I love gefilte fish!" exclaimed Michelle, going over to help Mrs. Cohen.

Mark turned his head to his loving sister. "Cindy, can I have a word with you?" asked Mark, letting out a fake chuckle. He put down the camera, then kneeled down to the kids. "Do you guys mind helping grandma out with the food?" They ran off obediently. Great kids. He stood up, looking at Cindy."Why didn't you warn me that Medusa was coming over?"

"Mark, don't call her that," said Cindy, sort of laughing. "Besides, why didn't you tell me about Michelle?"

Mark groaned. "Touche." He looked over to his dad, who was looking toward the walls and ceiling as if he was a building inspector. "Did you have to bring him along?"

"He's the whole reason why we're here. You and him."

"I have nothing to say to him," he said.

"Oh by the way, your closet is a mess."

"What were you doing in my closet?"

"Sisterly donation. I had a box of old clothes of mine and the hubby's. Thought you could use it for costumes in whatever films you're doing. Just accredit costumes designer as Cindy the Magnificent."

"Haha..." Mark caught what she said, but couldn't help stare at his father who kept looking at his furniture. "What is he doing?"

"Dad! Come say hi to the baby boy of the family. Look how he's grown, isn't he handsome?" asked Cindy pulling Mark's arm toward his tall, dirty blonde haired father. His father looked at him with stern, cold eyes and Mark felt as if he was ten again, and his father was chastising him for doing something wrong.

"Hello Mark," he said, his voice low, almost terrorizing. Mark stepped back.

What do I call the man? Dad? Father? Dictator? Godzilla? "Joe," he said simply. His father looked at him for a second.

"So how are you?" he asked. Mark didn't want to answer at first. He wanted to tell him to get out of his home, get out of his sight, get out of his life. But he couldn't do it in front of the kids. In front of Michelle.

"I'm doing all right." Mark was keen not to say anything to upset. Although he wanted to give him something to get angry at, he tried his best not to say anything that would push his buttons.

"Well, this is going...well," said Cindy, wrapping on arm around her dad, and the other around Mark. She pulled them closer to her, so that Mark and his father were inches away from each other. Mark looked away.

"The least you could do is shake his hand," murmured Cindy to her father. He glared at Mark and slowly stuck a hand out. Mark shook it hesitantly. It was firm. He could feel his father gripping harder at every shake. Finally, Mark had to pull away. He still hates me, thought Mark.

"Eat up everyone!" called Mark's mother from the table. The food was ready, but Mark didn't feel all too hungry. Either way they all sat around the table, Michelle sitting in between Mark and his mom, and Cindy sitting beside Mark and her two kids, who shared a chair. They began to eat. It was silent for a while, and Mark could see Cindy looking back at him and his father at the corner of her eye, probably thinking of a way to get a conversation going. But she didn't say anything for a while either. Maybe she finally came to her senses and gave up on them. Suddenly...

"So Michelle, how long have you and Mark been going out?"

"Several weeks now," she answered, wiping her lips with a napkin. "We're so happy together, and we have so much in common."

"It's so nice for Mark to finally find a pleasant, Jewish girl," commented his mother cheerfully. "Smart, sophisticated, sweet."

"Sweet," mumbled Michelle to Mark and she giggled. "M&M."

Mark bit his lip and his mom cleared her throat. "What was that dear?"

No, don't say it, he thought, but his power of thinking wasn't strong enough. Michelle laughed a bit. "M&M. I thought it was a cute nickname for Mark and I. Oh I know it's a bit childish, but Mark makes me feel very special."

His mom laughed, and Cindy joined in, pinching Mark's leg from under the table. Mark looked down mortified. Did she really have to tell his parents? Even Maureen had the knowledge not to embarrass him in front of his parents. He slumped down, and slowly slid from his chair. Ugh...

"Marky, please don't slouch at the table, it's rude," said his mother, peering over her glasses at him. He sat up slightly, but felt foolish having his mom tell him what to do.

"He's never had good posture," his dad mumbled.

"He's always had good posture, it's just that he hasn't been eating right. Look how awfully thin you've gotten Mark. Here have some more gifilte fish..."

"No, mom..."

"He never eats enough vegetables, that's why he's so thin and pale-looking," his father continued bitterly.

"He's not pale-looking because of vegetables, he's pale-looking because of his complexion. For goodness sakes Mark, don't look at me that way." Mark gave Cindy a look, but she was busy tending with her kids.

"If the boy only went to college," said his father.

"I went to college," Mark started, but his mom cut him off. Again.

"What does going to college have to do with anything we've been discussing?" demanded his mom.

"Well, we were on the topic of Mark's failures right?"

"Joe!"

"Dad," warned Cindy icily. Mark sighed. He didn't feel all too hurt because he's heard it all before. He tried not to glance at Michelle.

"With all due respect, I don't think your son is a failure. He's protective, caring, and trustworthy. Those qualities are far more noble than anything they teach you in school," said Michelle proudly.

Mark smiled a bit. He was glad that someone finally stuck up for him, and at first, he thought his dad was going to hit the roof. Instead he stared at her thoughtfully, and then smiled. Mark hadn't seen him smile for years.

"You are one smart girl. You," he gestured to Mark, "better hold on to her. Instead of the other things you've been holding on to..." Please don't mention her name, thought Mark. If he did Mark couldn't be held responsible for what he'd do next.

"Don't say that about Roger," said Cindy quickly. She glanced at Mark. He blinked once, thanking her. His father looked at her confused. She just stared at him as if she didn't know why he was giving her such an awkward expression.

"Oh, how is Roger by the way?" asked his mother.

"He's fine," answered Mark.

"Does he still do that...that thing?"

Mark looked at her curiously. "What... thing?"

"Oh you know, that thing. Stones, boulders...and tumbling or what not."

"Rock and roll, mom," said Cindy in disbelief.

"Right, rock and roll," she said brightly. Michelle laughed and Mark couldn't help but smile. His parents were so behind the times, that it was almost amusing as it was humiliating. They were probably still stuck in the classical age. It wasn't surprising when she went berserk at the thought of so many people doing drugs and having unsafe sex when he moved here. She tried to get him to stop, but he just had to get away. In his deep thought he almost didn't notice the kiss on the cheek Michelle gave him.

"Oh, isn't that sweet?" said Mark's mom. "Isn't that sweet Joe?"

"Mmm..." his father leered at him. Mark tried to avoid him by taking a sip of water.

"Marky, have the thought of marriage crossed your mind?" his mom asked. Out of immediate reaction, he spit out his drink and it scatter as a spray. Cindy and the kids laughed.

"For God's sake Mark-" his dad said standing up at the same time his mom said, "Mark what has gotten into you?"

Mark wiped his mouth, and he choked a bit. "M-marriage?"

"Yes..." his mom said wiping her face. "I mean you've got the perfect girl right here, and you're at the right age. It's about time you started thinking about commitment."

Mark looked at Michelle with apologizing eyes. "I'm sorry.."

"Don't be, my parents are the same way," she said.

Mark smiled, and then turned to the woman who gave him birth. "Mom, marriage... I don't know, I never thought-"

"You should think! You can't live here all your life."

"Wedding bells are ringing, wedding bells are ringing," singsonged Cindy softly.

"Somewhere else...not here," murmured Mark to his sister.

"Naomi, how is he going to commit when he doesn't have a decent job?" asked his father, his voice slowly rising.

"Dad, please, keep your voice down," implored Cindy, but his father had left the table. Mark looked at his mother, who gave him a worried look, and excused herself from the table. Michelle took Mark's hand and held it tight. He felt comfort within her.

"Work things out," said Cindy softly to Mark. Michelle nodded in agreement. But Mark didn't know how he could possibly work things out with a man as stubborn as him. He was sick and tired of hearing how disappointed he was of his son. He didn't want to hear his complaints, or his lectures about leading a stable life. He just wanted his biological father to leave him alone, where he could live life in peace. Friendship was thicker than blood, he convinced himself. He didn't need him. But still, Cindy was looking at him desperately. She wanted peace too.

"Look, dad..." said Mark, standing and walking a few steps closer to him. "I'm sorry. I'll... I'll try to do better."

That was the hardest thing he ever had to say. He felt ashamed doing it, but he would do anything for Cindy. Anything to bring serenity. His father turned to him, unsure of what to say at first, and then nodded.

"That's all I ask for, son." Mark cringed. He hated his father calling him that. He tried to like him, he tried to forget, but he just couldn't suppress the memory.

"So, maybe you can go into accounting and quit all this filmography nonesense you do. I have a buddy at work-"

"What? Quit filming altogether?" asked Mark. The man had to have some dignity, some compassion.

"Well, yeah if you want to do better. Isn't that what you want?"

"Yeah, but I was thinking more along the lines of opening my own business with my photography. It's not exactly what I want, but at least-"

"Mark you have to understand that this filming you do...it's a hobby. It's not meant to be a career."

"I love filming-"

"As a hobby. I mean how would Michelle feel if she has to do all the supporting?" They both looked at Michelle. Mark looked at her in shock. They weren't even married! His father looked at her as if he expected an answer. And she gave them one.

"I... I do think that your filming can become a side career. I mean something to keep you occupied on the side. There's so many other things you could do out there, that can make you more successful," she said to Mark.

"See, even your girlfriend agrees," said his father.

"Michelle. Michelle I thought you supported my work!"

"I...not really... I mean!" she looked at him desperately. "I think you have more potential than that!"

"I don't believe this," said Mark. He looked at Cindy for help, who was watching from a safe distant. She was holding both her kids hands. She just looked at him concerned.

"Mark, you can't expect us to live on what your work pays," said Michelle.

"I'm sorry, when did I propose? Between the servings of the gefilte fish?"

"Mark!" said his mother, wrapping her arm around Michelle.

"I'm not getting married!" exclaimed Mark.

"Don't be selfish, Mark-" his mother started.

"Selfish!" he tried to calm down. He didn't want to set a bad example for the kids. He didn't know when Michelle turned on him, but he couldn't be more upset with her. He thought she would at least take his side on all this. She never complained before. She was just like them. She was the epitomy of the girl his parents always pressured him into marrying. Was he turning into one of them?

"Mark, if you didn't waste your time-" his father began.

"I'm wasting my time right now, talking here with you." His mother gasped, and Mark didn't regret it. His father stared at him fiercely.

"Listen to me Mark, you're going to end up with such disgrace and are going to regret everything you've done. You should have listened to us, we know what's best for you!"

"You don't know the first thing about me!"

"The hell we do Mark, it's because you keep running away from us, running away from your fears! You should have been more like your sister! Look where she is, totally content with her life!"

"Dad..." Cindy said, drawing farther away from them. Her kids held her leg tight, and she tried to cover them gently, turning their faces away from the scene. They began to whimper, but not entirely cry.

"You demean this family, and disappoint us. We thought our boy would grow up to make something of himself than create nonesense shit, make-believe crap!" his father bellowed. Rebecca began to cry, and Cindy picked her up.

"Dad, stop!" said Cindy. Suddenly the door swung open and Roger walked in. He stopped when he saw everyone in the room. He knew instantly that he stepped into a family argument.

"I'll just be leaving..." he said, but then Cindy stopped him.

"Wait, Roger! Take the kids, please... please take them," she said. She handed him Rebecca who buried her head in his chest. Roger just nodded, obliging to the poor woman's cry for help, and led her kids out the door.

"How can you hand your kids off to a deadbeat like that!" demanded their father.

"He is NOT a deadbeat!" wailed Cindy. "I trust Roger, he would make a great father!"

"HA! I pity his child, making them suffer the life he's suffering all because he was too stupid to have unsafe sex!"

"It was a mistake..." Cindy said.

"Don't talk about Roger that way, he's changed," said Mark. "He's bettered himself, he's turned around, you wouldn't know, of course!"

"The man has AIDS! Or has he given you a different perspective? Has he influenced you to screw around with people without a condom? With people like Maureen?"

"Keep her out of this! I want nothing to do with her," said Mark bitterly. He couldn't believe he brought her up. He couldn't believe these wild accusations. How could he possibly think that the son he raised would even make these type of choices? If only they gave him the praise, the encouragement, he wouldn't be so resentful.

"Oh God, she didn't..." his father said.

"What?" asked Mark, disturbed.

"She didn't give you that deadly disease, did she?"

"Mark..." said his mother.

"NO! She doesn't even HAVE..." Mark let out a cry of frustration. "THERE you go jumping into conclusions. Why do you always assume the worst for me? For once, can't you believe that I'm happy?"

"Happy? How could you possibly be happy!" his dad screamed. "You're yelling!"

"YOU'RE yelling!"

"Go to your room!"

"Gah!" Mark stomped to his room and closed the door. He threw himself on the bed, and covered himself with the pillow. Then he suddenly sat up. WHY am I in my room! But he was too afraid to go back out. He didnt want to admit defeat. He just needed to be alone. Great idea Cindy, he thought, I know this isn't what you wanted! But look where it's led us.

A knock came at the door. "Mark?"

"What?"

"Can I come in?"

"I don't feel like talking."

"Mark, please..."

"Michelle, I really don't want to talk to you right now." He tried to say it as gently as possible, but at the same time make sure she got the message. Silence approached after a few moments passed. He didn't know what was happening on the other side of the door. But for a brief while he didn't care. How could he be betrayed like that? Not just by Michelle, but by Cindy as well. He thought Michelle would always take his side. He felt like he could protect her through anything, and that she could always count on him. In turn, he thought he could count on her. But she was just like them. She didn't want him to be himself. She wanted him to be the perfect, successful Jewish man that he'd learned to hate.

And Cindy... he loved her so much and he knew that she only meant to make things right. But being a family man wasn't right for him. He would hang on to Cindy if it meant his life. But he didn't know what to do about his parents. He just wanted them out of his life. He couldn't stand it anymore. He didn't just screen his calls for nothing. Even if it meant cutting all known contact with his parents just for him to be happy, he would do it. They were too different. They wanted other things. They didn't understand him, they didn't understand his situation, his friends. He had to break it off from them. He had to do it. And not only that. He had to work things straight with Michelle.

He knew that he couldn't change her. But she was understanding. Perhaps if they compromised and worked things out, things could be right again. Once this day was over, everything will go back to normal. Right?

Another knock on the door.

"What?"

"Mark, it's Cindy..."

Mark jumped off the bed, and quickly opened the door. She slipped in, and he locked the door. They instantly embraced. Mark finally felt some of his heart lifting. She was the only one who truly understood her. Her and...

"I'm sorry," she sobbed softly. Mark hugged her tighter. "I tried..."

"I know. But we can't do this. I can't go through with it. I hate the man."

She pulled away slowly and looked into his eyes. She had been crying for a while. "I wanted you guys to get along. Why us?"

He pulled her in for another hug. "I stopped asking that question a long time ago. I try not to worry about the past and keep asking why. Now I think about the present. I think about now. What matters now." Softly he praised Roger for his great advice. He was really his best friend.

"I love you Mark, my precious little baby brother," she said wiping the tears from under his eyes. He smiled, and kissed her forehead.

"Is it safe to go outside?" he asked.

"They've left."

"Good."

"Michelle is still here." They walked out and saw Michelle pacing around the living room. She walked over to him expecting an embrace but Mark turned his body, letting her know that he was still upset with her. She paused, and looked away, pressing her lips together. Roger walked in, peering his head from the doorway, looking from side to side.

"Can we come in?" asked Roger. He had Rebecca in his arms who was sleeping peacefully. Adam was yawning, and ran to his mother to pick him up.

"Thanks Roger. Just lay her in the stroller, and we'll be on our way. I can't thank you enough." She picked up Adam, and Roger laid Rebecca down.

"No problem. I'll see you out the door," he said and helped her with her stuff. She waved goodbye to Mark, and they left without another word. Mark feared that this was going to be the last visit from her for a long time. He looked at Michelle, then gestured her out. He didn't have anything to say to her.

"Mark, please understand..." she started.

"We can work it out in the morning," he said giving her hope, but letting out a sense of authority he never mastered with anyone else. She nodded reluctantly and went out. Mark closed the door, and Roger stood behind him.

"Whoa. What...happened?" asked Roger.

"Long story," said Mark falling on the couch. Roger sat across from him.

"I didn't expect that they would ever come here," Roger said.

"Cindy invited them for lunch. That we could work things out. We didn't."

"Lunch huh? Any left?"

Mark laughed. "Check the refrigerator. Mom must have stored it all away or brought it with her. Not sure."

Roger went up to go into the kitchen. Mark grabbed Roger's guitar from behind the sofa, and softly began to strum the melody he was working on. It was actually coming along nicely. The words, he decided to change all together. He gave up on the epic poetry stuff. He just wanted to start afresh. In his mind he tried to think of something decent. But then he couldn't stop thinking about Maureen. She just popped in his mind all of a sudden and flashes of the first time Maureen met his parents came running along his mind. He tried to shut her out. Think of Michelle, he thought desperately. Think of how happy she's made you. With her in mind, he softly sang,

"Come closer

you're the one I've been longing for

Come near

there's no one else that I want more

Every time you're here, all my taunting fears, slip away

I just want to say..."

He stopped. Not bad, he thought, not too bad. Suddenly a shattered glass was heard from the kitchen.

"Roger is everything all right?"

"Mark... What the hell did I just put in my mouth?"