(A/N: I've been having computer problems so forgive me if I have errors. I am completely amazed and grateful for the overwhelming response to this story! You guys are wonderful and you keep me going! Thank you so so much! I hope you enjoy this.)
Disclaimer: I don't own, I rent.
CHAPTER FOUR: THE TANGO MAUREEN
Christmas was drawing nearer and nearer, and I soon came to realize exactly how much I'd been spending keeping Roger alive the last few years. I'd never been able to afford Christmas presents for anybody, and now that I wasn't buying AZT, anti-depressants and paying off doctor's bills, Eva and I could have a real Christmas. One with a feast and more than just a peppermint stick under her pillow.
"So, did you make your Christmas list yet?" I asked her one Saturday morning as we ate cereal and watched cartoons in our pajamas. "Santa's not gonna know what to bring you."
"Uncle Mark," she said blankly, not taking her eyes off the screen. "There's no such thing as Santa Clause." She took another mouthful of Cap'n Crunch before she added, "Besides, you're Jewish. Shouldn't we be lighting a menorah and spinning a dredyl?"
"Okay, fine then. What can I get you for Hannukah?" I laughed.
"I don't need anything." she said simply.
"There's nothing in the whole wide world that I could get you?"
"There's nothing I need. Really, Uncle Mark." I thought for a moment about what she could want.
"How about guitar lessons?"
"I can teach myself how to play. Lessons are expensive."
"Uh...new dance shoes?" I persisted.
"The ones I have right now are fine." she insisted. "Uncle Mark, I don't need anything, trust me."
I dropped the subject for that day, but on my way to work I strolled down Broadway and noticed that a revival of La Boheme was playing at the Nederlander. An idea struck me. Ever since Eva had brought home Roger's old guitar she'd been determined to learn to play "Musetta's Waltz" in it's entirety. I had even gotten her the sheet music from a thrift shop. I knew as I stood outside looking at the marquee that I'd found the perfect gift. I bought the best tickets I could get and continued on my way to work.
Christmas morning came and Eva, who hadn't expected anything, was truly surprised when she looked in her stocking and found the envelope with the tickets in it.
"Oh Uncle Mark! La Boheme! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she shrieked and threw her arms around my neck. I hadn't seen her so happy since before Roger died.
"Well, I'm glad you like it." I chuckled.
"Like it! I love it! It's the best present I've ever gotten!"
We spent the rest of the day at Maureen and Joanne's place, eating dinner and opening gifts. Eva and Collin played with Collin's new video game while Maureen, Joanne and I drank eggnog in the kitchen. However, Maureen--who, on any other Christmas would have been drunk by now--hadn't even sipped hers.
"What's the matter with you?" I asked her.
"Me? Nothing...I've never liked eggnog." she said nonchalantly.
"Maureen," Joanne said, surprised. "You drank three whole cartons by yourself last year."
"Yeah, you never pass up alcohol." I pointed out.
"Well, Roger died last year. I was depressed." she said defensively. "Maybe I'm just not in the mood for it tonight."
"Maureen--something's going on. What's wrong?" Joanne asked, suspicious.
"Pookie, nothing's wrong." Maureen insisted.
"Wait--you won't drink alcohol, you haven't smoked a cigarette in three weeks..." Joanne trailed off. "You--now I know exactly what you were buying at the drugstore! You've been cheating on me again--you bought a pregnancy test last night!"
"No!" Maureen said. "Pookie, come on!"
"You got yourself knocked up! I knew it! It was that waiter from the Mexican resturaunt wasn't it?" Joanne shouted.
"Pookie---Joanne..."
"I should have known you'd never change...Dammit Maureen, when will you grow up? Why do I do this to myself time and time again?" Joanne stormed out of the kitchen and Maureen followed her into their bedroom, begging her to listen. When they came back, Joanne shouted at Collin to pack a bag. Confused, he went to his room to do so, and I nodded for Eva to go with him while Maureen and Joanne continued their shouting match in the driveway.
"Don't leave Joanne." Maureen pleaded.
"Maureen, I'm sick and tired of your games. I'm done dancing this idiotic tango you've been leading for the last fourteen years! I'm leaving. And this time, I'm not coming back."
"Where are you going to go?" Maureen asked.
"Anywhere but here." Joanne said.
"Pookie, at least tell me where you're going so I don't worry about you."
"You! Worry about anybody but yourself? Don't make me laugh."
"Pookie, please I--"
"Joanne--" I cut in. "Come home with us. Then we'll all know where you are. We'll know you're safe. Collin can get a ride to school when I take Eva. You can take the extra bedroom."
"Mark, I don't want to impose--"
"Don't even start. That's what friends are for." Collin and Eva snuck outside sheepishly.
"What's going on?" Collin asked Eva.
"You're coming to my house for a sleepover." she said with a smile. I gave her points for the quick thinking.
"Really?" he asked, his face lighting up.
"Yup, come on and we'll put your stuff in the car." she said, taking him by the hand. Maureen stopped them.
"Collin, have fun with Uncle Mark and Eva, okay?"
"I will, Mom." he said, wincing as she kissed him.
"Be good. Don't cause any trouble."
"I won't, Mom." he said.
"I love you Collin, baby." Maureen pulled him into a hug and I did a double take. Were there tears in her eyes? Maureen the drama queen was crying? Maureen Johnson, who never, in a million years had cared about anybody but herself was sobbing into an eight year old's jacket. Motherhood had changed her. I noticed Joanne's look of curiosity; she'd seen it too. When Maureen let go of Collin, he clambered joyfully into the backseat next to Eva. Joanne glanced at Maureen with contempt and climbed into the car.
"I'm sorry, Mo." I said softly.
"Take care of them, Marky."
"I will, I promise...Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas." she sighed. I got in and started the car. Maureen stood on the steps, pulling her sweater around herself tighter. I'm not sure when she went back inside, but we were far out of sight before then.
