Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Collins, Angel, Mark, Roger, Mimi, or Joanne. The credit for them goes to, of course, Jon Larson. Jonathan Stutz is mine though.
This is loosely inspired by Thirteen Things About Ed Carpolotti. If you know what that is, you'll probably know how I mean, if not, you'll live.
Reviews are always appreciated. wink wink
"SPEEEAAK," Collins looked up from The Village Voice as the phone rang and Mark and Rogers' answering machine picked up. Since he'd come back to town on Christmas Eve, he's been staying at the lost with his old room mates. Mark was sitting at the kitchen table drinking his coffee and looked up too, praying that it wasn't his mother. Roger and Mimi (who had moved in after Christmas Eve as well) were still asleep; presumably both in Roger's room, and didn't seem to notice the call.
"If that's her again, I swear to god-"Mark trailed off.
But it wasn't Mrs. Cohen. A professional sounding male voice said, "Hello, this is Jonathan Stutz with the Law Offices of Stutz and Alan. I'm calling for a Mr. Thomas Collins regarding-"but Collins picked up the receiver after hearing his name.
Affecting the equally professional and stuffy voice he usually used when speaking to deans and parents asking why their sons and daughters were failing out of his classes, he said, "Yes, this is Tom Collins."
Jonathan Stutz said that he wanted to arrange a meeting regarding some financial arrangements for Angel's. Collins couldn't think of what sort of arrangements his lover would have had and didn't even think that Angel had had a will, but agreed on the meeting anyway. The lawyer hadn't said that he needed to bring any papers or anything and he wasn't even sure how the man had gotten Mark and Roger's number. Nor had he ever heard of Angel talking about any lawyers, other than Joanne of course.
At two-thirty the following afternoon, Collins gave the young receptionist at the office his name and took a seat in the small waiting area. It seemed that Mr. Stutz liked to show off: the walls were mostly adorned with various certificated and diplomas as well as pictures of himself and Mr. Alan shaking hands with various dignitaries and investors. At long last, the small speaker box on the receptionist's desk beeped and said, "Anne? Please send Mr. Collins in now." Anne motioned him to an oak door and he went in. Mr. Stutz's office was full of heavy legal books, more certificates, and a small statue of Lady Justice stood proudly on a large oak desk.
"Thank you for meeting me on such short notice, Mr. Collins," he said, extending his hand to shake Collins'. He appeared to be in his mid-fifties and was clearly wearing a toupee made of some sort of synthetic hair. "Please have a seat."
Collins sat in one of the chairs across the desk from the lawyer, "You said this was about Angel?" he asked. He really was curious to find out what he'd been called for.
Nodding, Mr. Stutz replied, "Yes, I've asked you here concerning some unsettled assets or Mr. Shunard's."
"Assets?" Collins asked, "Angel didn't even have a will. I thought everything had already been settled. It's been nearly three months." Something about talking to this lawyer about Angel was making him uneasy. What did this man know?
Mr. Stutz pulled a file folder from a drawer in his desk, "This was only recently brought to my attention by my client that Mr. Shunard's arrangement was with." Collins was about to ask that he please refer to him as 'Angel'; no one ever called him 'Mr. Shunard,' but the lawyer pressed on. "I am truly sorry for your loss by the way. We received this a few days ago." He handed Collins an envelope from the folder.
Opening the flimsy envelope, he found a payroll check made out to his own name and a letter written in familiar handwriting.
Dear Collins, my king, 10-19-1990
If you're reading this, it means that that lawyer with the bad toupee just gave you a check for $5000 and a contract from the Gap. Remember that one dress I made? The one out of the purple table clothe Mimi and I found? They bought it! Someone saw me in it one say and they got in touch with my around August. Normally, I would have a problem with my stuff being mass-produced like this, but I sort of like the idea of it now. My dress is going to be part of next year's fall line! All additional royalties in your name! You didn't think I could just leave without making sure you were taken care of now, did you? No way, Honey. First and foremost, the money goes to medical care. Not just yours, of course, Mimi's and Roger's as well. Get Mimi into a rehab too. She wants her life back, she just needs help. Plus, she and Roger are adorable. Now none of you have an excuse not to take your AZT.
Now baby, there isn't enough paper in this world to write how much you mean to me. You're sleeping now. In that uncomfortable little chair the nurse brought for you. You're so cute when you're asleep. When I'm gone, I don't want you to stop going, okay? Promise me. Tomorrow's for you. This last year has been the best of my life, even through the sick days and the doctor's appointments. All because of you and the rest of our little family. I will always love you. You know that, right? You've kept me covered and now I hope this will cover you, financially at least. And at least until we're together again, and I can do it myself.
Well, I'd better tie this up. The nurse is going to mail it to that lawyer they want me to work through, and my hand's getting a little shaky.
Love, your queen,
Angel
With trembling hands, Collins folded the letter and thanked the attorney. As he left the office, he said to himself, "You didn't have to do this. Give, give, all you do is give."
The next autumn, Collins was walking down the street with Mark, and they saw a young girl in a purple dress that looked strikingly familiar. Something inside him made him ache to stop her and tell her about the proud and loving woman who had designed her ensemble.
