CHAPTER SEVEN
(chapter title – Bad News Turned Good)

A week later, Sara was sitting on her bed reading a book in the Thoroughbred series when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in." she told the person. Jennifer and Mark walked into the room, tears streaming down Jennifer's cheeks.

"Sara, we just came to say goodbye." Mark told her, setting a faded brown suitcase down and sitting on the edge of Sara's bed. Sara noted what page she was on before setting the book facedown on her bed.

"What do you mean, uncle Mark? Where are you going?" Sara wanted to know.

"Well, I found a new job – one that I actually like. But one problem is that it's in a different part of New York." Mark said, looking at Jennifer. She just shook her head and continued to stand in the doorway.

"You mean that Jennifer and I won't be going to the same school in the fall?" Sara inquired. Mark slowly nodded his head as he pulled Sara into a hug.

"We're leaving in a bit, so I'm sure that Jennifer wants to spend some time with you." Mark said, standing up so that Jennifer could sit down next to her best friend. Kissing the top of Jennifer's head, he walked out the door and sat on the couch next to Roger and Christopher. Tiffany, Maureen and Joanne would be coming over in a bit to say goodbye to Mark and Jennifer.

"She's really gonna miss you, Mark, as am I." Roger told him, looking at his best friend. Mark nodded, trying not to cry. He couldn't cry in front of Roger or Christopher. The only times he had cried was at Collins' funeral a week ago and at Susan's funeral the other day.

"Mark, it's okay to cry." Roger told him, tears forming in his green eyes. Mark smiled slightly. Roger wiped the tears out of his eyes.

"Remember the first time we met?" Mark asked. Roger smiled and nodded, remembering the day perfectly as if it was yesterday…

"…Find the one song before the virus takes hold
Glory, like a sunset
One song, to redeem this empty life
Time flies
And then no need to endure anymore
Time dies." Roger sang into the mike in front of him. Everyone applauded in the small bar where Roger and his band, Slaves of Freedom, were performing.

"Thank you. That's it for tonight." A twenty-something Roger said into the mike. Everyone filed out of the bar, except for a spiky blond filmmaker making his first debut for a small TV station.

"Sir, sir! Excuse me, can I interview you?" the filmmaker asked, rushing up to Roger like a crazed fan. Roger looked at the other guys and told them to go ahead. They nodded and left, leaving Roger and the geeky dude alone in the bar.

"Let's get this over with. I have a date with my girlfriend, April, in a few minutes." Roger told him, bored.

"Okay. First off, I love your music." The filmmaker said, pointing the camera in Roger's face. So do all my fans Roger thought, rolling his eyes.

"What's your name, little man?" Roger asked.

"Mark. Mark Cohen." The filmmaker introduced himself.

"I'm Roger. Roger Davis. Sorry to have sounded rude back there, I'm just tired from playing for three hours straight." Roger told him, a smile spreading across his face. The two of them talked, drinking beers way into the night.

"I have an opening in my loft if you wanna come live with me." Mark told him. Roger suddenly looked interested.

"Really?" Roger asked, smiling.

"My girlfriend, Maureen and I broke up, so she moved out. Now we have an opening – it's just the guys Tom Collins everyone calls him Collins; Benny Coffin the third and me." Mark then went on to tell Roger about the loft where he and his friends lived, also a little bit about their backgrounds. Roger listened intently, nodding and commenting every so often, but stayed quiet throughout the rest of Mark's sermon.

The sound of Mark's sighing snapped Roger out of his flashback. Suddenly, Roger got a fabulous idea so that Mark and Jennifer wouldn't have to move.

"Mark, could I see you for a second, privately?" Roger asked. Not waiting for an answer, the rocker had the filmmaker on his feet before you could say 'La vie Boheme'. Roger then led Mark to his room and closed the door.

"Roger? What is this about?" Mark asked, slightly confused as he sat down on Roger's bed.

"Mark, we've been best friends almost our entire lives, right?"

"Yeah, but Rog-"

"What I'm trying to say, Mark Cohen, is." Roger took in a deep breath. "Willyoumarryme?"

"What?"

"You heard me – will you marry me? I may not have much time left, and I figured that-"

"Roger! Oh my God! I don't know what to say!"

"Say 'yes'!"

"Okay, all right I'll do it! I'll marry yo-" the rest of Mark's answer was cut off by Roger kissing him firmly on the lips. Mark closed his eyes and kissed Roger back. He had never dreamed that he would be kissing his best friend. It felt like kissing his sister, Cindy, or something crazy like that. Finally, Roger pulled away.

"This means that if we get married, Sara and Jennifer will be sisters." Mark pointed out. He had loved Sara like she was his own daughter anyway and he was sure that Roger felt the same way about Jennifer.

"Daddy! Come quick! Melanie's on the phone!" the sound of Sara's voice startled the two men. They ran out of the room, Roger to the phone and Mark to the couch.

"Hello?" Roger said into the receiver.

"Roger? Have you been running a marathon or something?" Melanie joked. Roger took in a deep breath and slowed his breathing down.

"Sorry. What is it?" Roger inquired.

"Well, I'm calling to say that Soot had her puppies – ten in all. Five boys and five girls. All healthy and ready to be picked up in about eight weeks. Does Sara want a boy or a girl?"

Roger looked over at Sara and put the phone down. "Sweetie, do you want a boy or a girl?" he asked.

"Girl!" she told him without hesitation. Smiling, Roger picked the phone back up.

"She wants a girl." Roger told Melanie.

"Great. I'll put you're guys' name down for one. You can pick your little girl up in about eight weeks, okay?"

"Sounds good. I'll see you then." Roger hung up the phone and turned his attention back to Sara and Jennifer. Christopher had gone out to the balcony and was leaning over the edge, but not too far.

"Rog, shall we tell Jennifer and Sara about us?" Mark asked as Roger walked back over. Roger nodded, hoping the idea wouldn't scare the girls so that they never spoke to them again.

"Honey." Mark started.

"Sweetie." Roger told Sara, taking her hands in his.

"Yeah dad?" the two girls asked in unison.

"Do you want to tell them or should I?" Roger asked Mark.

"I'll tell them." Mark told him, putting an arm around Roger's waist.

"Sara, Jennifer – your uncle Roger, or your dad and I are getting married." Mark told the girls. For a minute, they didn't say anything, as if they were expecting this to be a joke.

"Dad, are you serious?" Jennifer inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course, sweetie. Would I joke about something like this?" Mark asked his daughter.

"No, it's just that that would mean Sara and I would be sisters." Jennifer said, sounding less excited.

"I thought that's what you wanted – Sara being your sister." Mark said, a little bit confused as to Jennifer's reaction.

"I do, but it's gonna be weird having two dads – people will tease us at school." Jennifer told him. Mark just smiled and sat down next to Jennifer while Roger went to talk with Sara. Mark watched them for a moment – Sara seemed really excited that her dad was marrying Mark, so different from Jennifer's reaction.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Sara went to answer it to find Maureen and Tiffany standing in the doorway.

"Hi aunt Maureen! Hi Tiffany! Come on in!" Sara told the girls.

"Thanks, sweetie." Maureen came into the loft and hugged Sara. Tiffany smiled at her friend and went to sit with Jennifer. The two of them talked, Sara watching them.

"Something wrong, honey?" Maureen asked. Sara looked up at the older woman.

"Does Tiffany like me?" Sara asked.

"Of course she does, Sar. Why do you ask?"

"She just seems to avoid me whenever you guys come over. Sometimes, I think that she likes Jennifer more than she likes me." Sara was starting to think she was starting to sound selfish.

"Oh, sweetie. She likes you, but she's known Jennifer longer. Go over there and try to get involved in what they're doing." Maureen told her, smiling at Roger as he came up behind Sara.

"Hey Maureen. Where's Joanne?" Roger asked.

"She's working; her boss wanted her to work on a new case – something involving custody." Maureen told him. Roger nodded and smiled slightly.

"So, Marky. What's up?" Maureen asked, walking over to Mark. He wasn't sure how to tell Maureen that Roger had asked him to marry him – it would sound really weird.

"Nothing much, it's just that Roger asked me to marry him and I said 'yes.'" Mark told her.

"Oh my God! You so have to let me help with the wedding!" Maureen was a little crazy when it had come to weddings.

"Um, okay." Mark said, a little uncertain. Roger came over at that point and wrapped an arm around Mark's waist. Mark smiled at him and planted a kiss on Roger's cheek. Roger smiled back at him and turned his attention to Sara, Jennifer, Tiffany and Christopher.

"Rog and I are gonna go get a pizza. We'll be back in about fifteen minutes. Maureen's in charge, so do what she says, okay?" Mark told the kids, following Roger out the door.

"We're finally alone." Roger said as they walked down the three flights of stairs.

"Yeah, we are." Mark smiled at Roger. He was so happy that Roger had asked him to marry him. It's as if they had meant to love one another – not Mimi or Katie. Both men had loved their wives with all the love in their hearts, but not more than they did now.

"Here you go." Roger opened the passenger door for Mark before climbing in the driver's seat.

"Thanks." Mark thanked him, getting in the car.

"You're welcome, Mark." Roger told him, sliding in the driver's seat. As Roger started the car, Mark looked at a picture of Roger and Sara on the dashboard. Sara was looking up at Roger, who held her in his lap so that she was facing him. Both of them were sitting in the grass and looking really happy. Sara was wearing a light green sundress and a huge white sunhat that covered most of her face. Roger was wearing a light blue polo shirt and jean shorts. Both of them were barefoot.

"That was taken at the park right after Sara's fifth birthday party. She was so cute." Roger told him, focusing on driving.

"She still is, Rog. The girls'll get used to us being together more often." Mark said.

"I'm sure they will. Do you think it was wise leaving Maureen in charge while we went out to get pizza?" Roger asked, taking a hand off of the steering wheel and squeezing Mark's hand briefly. Mark laughed and squeezed Roger's hand back.

"I'm sure the kids'll be fine." Mark reassured him, flipping through a fuzzy green CD case. He realized that most of the CDs were either soundtracks or regular CDs. He finally came to one that sounded familiar – Phantom of the Opera.

"Oh, that's Sara's CD case. I guess she must've left it in here one time." Roger told Mark, putting Phantom of the Opera in the CD player and pressed 'play'. The first track came on and both men listened to it. They were silent for a while before Mark turned to Roger.

"Yeah, Mark?" Roger asked, still driving.

"I love you."

"I love you, too." Roger told him, smiling. Spotting the pizza place, he pulled into the parking lot and handed Mark a twenty.

"Get a cheese pizza, please Mark." Roger said.

"Sure thing." Mark got out of the car and walked in the pizza place. Roger waited for Mark to come back out. Mark came back out carrying a box and smiling. Roger reached over and opened the door for Mark.

"Thanks." Mark thanked him as he sat down, pizza box in his lap.

"You're welcome." Roger put the car in drive and drove out of the driveway, talking to Mark and listened to the Phantom of the Opera CD on the way home.

"We need to think of some creative nicknames to call each other." Mark said after a while.

"Do not – I repeat – do not call me Pookie. Anything else is fine, but not Pookie." Roger told him firmly. Mark smirked – thinking of all the times when he had dated Maureen that she had called him Pookie.

"Why not Rog?" Mark inquired.

"Do I look like a Pookie to you?" Roger wanted to know. Mark smiled and shook his head.

"How about Rogy?" Mark suggested.

"No."

"Sex God?"

"Something appropriate, Marky."

"Okay, what about that nickname that April used to call you?"

"Elvis?"

"Yeah."

"Two reasons – A) only April was allowed to call me that and B) I don't want my daughter to know the back story of that nickname."

"What do you want to be called, then?"

"Roger, Rog and I guess Rogy only if I can call you Marky and Pookie." Roger had a wicked grin on his face at that moment.

"Okay, you can call me Pookie if I can call you Rogy in front of Sara."

"Fine." Roger smiled and put the car in park and turned off the ignition. He then leaned over and kissed Mark passionately, something that he had wanted to do ever since they had met all those years ago.