A/N- a quicky update, yay for me and for my Passover break! Once again, your reviews were awesome. Your speculations made me smile, but I'm not going to comment about any of them so I won't give anything away. So thanks again, everyone, and happy holiday, whichever you celebrate. Enjoy the following chapter! I'll be waiting for your feedback!

Chapter 5

He hurried down the street and into the building. He knew he was running late as it was. He always got there late. Oliver, the coordinator of Life, used to tease him that it was because he was so busy and important, but he knew he didn't mind as long as he got there eventually. It's just that there was always so much to do. It often happened that he simply lost a track of time.

He pushed the heavy doors open and hurried down the hall. He hoped he didn't miss anything important. They met once a week, sometimes more when they were in the middle of a big project, like those weeks when they did lectures in colleges around New York. And he knew they had some important issues to discuss. Somehow he hoped they hadn't yet started, although it wasn't likely. Oliver was obsessed with doing stuff right on time.

He could hear the constant murmur of everyone's voices, all speaking excitedly to one another at the same time. What was so great about Life was that everyone shared this amazing enthusiasm to their project. They put their lives and souls into everything they did. There was so much energy, so much spirit in everything they did, and it was such a great feeling, being able to help someone, even if it was only by mental support. There were a lot of people out there who needed that the most.

As he opened the door, silence fell in the small auditorium they used for their meetings. The murmurs stopped instantly, and dozen faces turned to look at him as he entered. He flashed Oliver an apologetic smile and took a seat in the front row as quietly as possible.

"Here he is, the man of the hour!" called Oliver, jumping to his feet from the podium he was sitting on. He frowned. He hated being in the center of attention, and Oliver knew it damn well, yet he kept embarrassing him every time he got there late. He never let him making silent entries. He always had something to say. "Glad you could join us, Mark, just in time to go into business. We were just making some introductions."

It was then when he noticed three people that he had never seen there before. Two men and a woman eyed him curiously. He smiled sheepishly as he silently acknowledged them.

"Mark, these are Chris, Andrew and Melinda. The new members of the family. Guys, this is my right hand, the great Mark Cohen."

He shot Oliver a warning glare. Sometimes he seriously thought of setting him up with Tammy. Although Oliver wasn't Jewish, those two still seemed like a match made in heaven. Hmm. Maybe hell was more like them. It seemed like they were both born to torture him. He should mention his name the next time he'd speak with Tammy.

"Alright, we've got a lot of stuff to talk about today, and very little time to do that. First of all, we got some good feedback from that series of lectures we gave at the NYU. Very good responses, so well done, guys. Excellent work. Now, I've got great news about that benefit we were talking about. Well, in our last meeting Mark suggested to have it in his gallery uptown, but that won't be necessary, since the manager of Hilton suggested making the hotel's ballroom available for us for the night." Some people cheered. He smiled. Slowly but carefully, their small group was gaining recognition. "Lindsey, I hope you're still okay with making the speech that evening, since our little Marky here suffers from stage-fright." Everyone cooed and wooed stuff that sounded like "Aww, poor Marky," and he lowered his head in humiliation, wishing he could just disappear.

"Of course, I'll make the speech," said Lindsey from couple of rows behind him.

"Mark, choose one of your very best films for the screening, since there are going to be some important people there that night," said Oliver and turned to the three new people. "Mark is a filmmaker; you might have heard his name before. Just last week we watched one of his very first works, Today For You, a film he made about his and his friends' lives in the Village."

He remembered the previous week. It was painful to watch that film again, that year when they got so much but also lost so much. It was even more painful to share it with others. But it was a good experience. He viewed the film and they had that long discussion afterwards. It turned out that several people lived in the Village at the same time. One or two thought they knew Angel and Mimi from back then. Another was a student of Collins' at MIT before he got himself expelled for his theory of Actual Reality. Later that night they went to dinner at the Life Café and just talked about their friends that were no longer with them.

"Alright. So Mark, I'm counting on you with the film, Lindsey, we can go over your speech during the next meeting. The benefit is in about three weeks, at the last weekend of February. We'll discuss hours and guests later."

Maureen would be there by then, he thought. He couldn't help but smiling like an idiot. Everything would be so much simpler when she and Libby would finally get here. No more phone calls in the middle of the night. Instead he'd be able to wake up beside her every day for the rest of their lives. He wanted to kick himself sounding so cliché when there were more important things for him to think about. He shook his head, wiped that foolish grin off his face and gave his full attention to Oliver, who specified the schedule for their next series of lectures.


He glanced at his watch as Oliver summed up. With a little luck, he'd be able to get back to the gallery before closing time. Maybe he'd take Tammy for dinner. Although she was teasing him mercilessly lately for being a love-sick puppy, he was in a good, generous mood. It was only a matter of days until Maureen and Libby would get to New York. Life couldn't possibly get any better.

"Excuse me, Mr. Cohen?"

He raised his head to meet the smile of a stranger. Well, not a complete stranger. He was one of the people Oliver introduced to him earlier in the meeting, only he couldn't remember his name. He was tall and dark haired, more or less his age. There was something in his eyes that looked kind of familiar, which he found strange, since he had never met the guy before. "Call me Mark, please," he said, smiling at the stranger, as they made their way out to the hall. He was still looking over his shoulder when someone addressed him as 'Mr. Cohen,' expecting to see his dad there.

The man smiled. "Mark. Hi. I just wanted to say that I am familiar with some of your works. It's an honor to meet you in person."

He remembered the guy's name as they shook hands. "Thank you. Andrew, right?"

"Andy. I'm always expecting to see my dad when someone calls me by my full name," smiled Andy. It was as if he repeated his own thoughts.

He returned his smile. "Andy. Nice to meet you. It's always good to have new people around here. Makes us feel like we're really doing something."

"You are doing something. More than you'll ever know."

"That's good to hear."

They walked along the hall, and he answered some of Andy's questions about Life's activities. The sun was slowly setting as they left the building. He looked up, lingering at the sight of the pinks and oranges of the sky, merging together into the most amazing color, too amazing to be described in words. He wished that he had his camera. For a moment, he forgot Andy was still standing there. As he turned to back to him, the other man looked at him amused.

"The soul of an artist. I never knew it really existed," he said jokingly.

"I guess it does, but hardly around here. In a city like New York people are always in a hurry. Sometimes it's good to just take your time, look at things like that," he looked up again. The sun was almost gone, hidden behind the tall buildings of the city that never slept.

"All this is kind of new to me. Things move slower at the West Coast I guess. That's where I'm originally from."

He smiled. "Really? Where from?"

"In the past few years, Portland Oregon. Then I decided I needed a drastic change, and I always wanted to go to New York City. So here I am. I heard about Life when I was working in Oregon, but never found the time to join you guys."

"It's better late than never."

"That's true."

He glanced at his watch. Tammy would kill him for sure. "I should go back to work."

"The gallery Oliver mentioned?"

"Yeah. I left my partner there alone. Again. One day she'll just murder me in my sleep or something."

"She sounds charming," Andy laughed. "If it's okay with you, I'd like to come and take a look."

"Sure, no problem. It should be close by the time we'll get there but you can have the private tour."

"Great."

They walked in silence for a while, each was occupied with his own thoughts. As he glanced at Andy, he couldn't help thinking what his story was. Did he have AIDS? Did he watch his friends die one by one, like he did? Was he there simply because he wanted to spread the word and nothing more? Everyone in Life had some sort of a story. That was the one thing they all had in common. That, and the strong will to pass their stories onward.

As if he sensed his silent question, Andy smiled sadly. "You're wondering what I'm doing here." He paused, then said, "I was diagnosed with HIV several years back. I was okay for a while, but then several months ago my T cells count became really low."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"That's not your story, I assume." It was more of a statement than a question.

"No, it's not. Back then when I lived in the Village, AIDS was inseparable part of our life. Most of my friends were sick. They all died eventually. The last one was my best friend. He died last year."

"It must have been tough."

"Yeah. It was. But it made us learn some important lessons."

"Like what?"

"Like that there's no day but today," he said sadly.

There was a short silence. Andy seemed to hesitate, but eventually he said, "Sometimes I wish that someone will shake me and tell me it's just a huge, horrible mistake."

The only thing he could think of was Roger. He remembered Roger said something similar when he got back home from rehab. He refused to speak for weeks, and then one evening he just couldn't hold it inside any longer, and he simply fell apart. They both cried that night. "Don't let it break you. You must fight it. You must have faith." A leap of faith. He smiled, remembering the person who first got that mantra stuck in his head, but only for a moment. His smile faded as he looked at Andy seriously. "If you ever need to talk about it with anyone-"

"Thanks. That'll be great."

They got to the gallery just as Tammy was closing the doors. As she saw them approaching, she raised her hands in silent desperation. He rolled his eyes. She was becoming such a drama queen lately. "Here we are," he said, opening one of the glass doors. Andy followed him inside. Tammy approached them, that accusing expression already plastered on. "Be nice, Horowitz, we've got company," he warned her.

"I'm always nice, Cohen, That's why you love me so much!" she said, smiling innocently.

"Andy, this charming creature is Tammy Horowitz. Tammy, Andy is new in Life."

"Nice to meet you," said Tammy, flashing her best smile at Andy as they shook hands. Then she turned to look at him, and her smile turned into something much more terrifying. But then, it quickly transformed into a wicked grin as she handed him a piece of paper. "You. Lover boy. Someone was looking for you while you were gone. And although I tried to put some reason into the girl's head, she insisted I'd tell you to call her back. I don't know what she's thinking."

He took the paper from her hand and glanced at it. He smiled as he recognized the San Francisco dialing region. "Thank you, Tammy. See? You can be a real doll when you really want to." He turned to look at Andy, who was observing the scene in front of him, clearly amused. "I gotta return this call. Will you be okay here for a while? I'm sure Tammy will be happy to answer your questions."

"I won't keep you long," he heard Andy say as he walked over to his office. Closing the door, he reached for the phone and glanced at the note. It was the number at her office, he knew. He wondered if he should call her back to that number or her cell. He avoided bothering her at work because he knew how busy she was, especially in her last days there. But if she was calling him from there, maybe it was okay.

He dialed her work number, and soon a female voice answered the call. That was strange. He was sure it was her direct line. "Hi, I'm calling back for Maureen Johnson."

"I'm sorry, Maureen is not available right now. Can I take a message?"

"Uhh…" He wasn't sure if he should say he was her fiancé. Not only because it sounded so strange, but also because he wasn't sure if she told anyone there about it. "Tell her that Mark Cohen was looking for her, please."

There was silence at the other end, and then the woman asked hesitantly, "Your name is Mark?"

"Yeah… is there a problem?" he asked slowly. There was something really weird in the way she had asked that.

"Will you hold on a moment?"

"Wait, is something wro-"

She was gone before he could end his question, but soon another voice was heard. A male voice this time. "Hello?"

"Hi, I'm looking for Maureen, she left me a message earlier," he said again, now a bit panicked. What the hell was going on?

"Your name is Mark?" The man asked.

"Yeah. Is she there?" he was getting impatient. Something was wrong. He could feel it. Someone knocked on his office's door and Tammy peeked inside. He guessed Andy left already, but didn't have time to ponder over it. He motioned her to hold on for a moment.

"My name is Kevin Forester, I'm working with Maureen. I'm afraid she can't talk to you right now."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Today is her last day here, as you probably know. She collapsed during a staff meeting we had… I guess we should have seen this coming, she wasn't feeling well lately."

Collapsed… Oh shit. "What do you mean 'she wasn't feeling well lately'? Where is she now?"

"She's here in her office, we got a doctor for her; he's with her right now. We'll take her home the moment he'll let us. She happened to mention your name this morning so when you called-"

"Is she conscious?" God, he couldn't believe he was even having this conversation.

"She's in and out of it. I'm sure she'll be okay. She was really tired lately." She mentioned it once or twice when they talked, but she never made it sound that serious. Why the hell she hid it from him? "Is there anything you want me to tell her?"

"Just tell her that I-" Love her. He sighed. "No. Thanks. I'll try to call her later."

"I hope she'll be okay."

"Yeah. Me too," he said, and slowly hung up. He sat back in his chair and released the breath he didn't even realize he was holding.

"What's going on?" It was then when he realized that Tammy was still in the room, watching him curiously.

He turned to look at her, his heart still pounding, his mind empty. He had no idea what to think, what to feel. Suddenly, San Francisco seemed so far away. Out of his reach. Helplessness was slowly creeping under his skin. "Something is wrong with Maureen."