A/N: I know, I know, I should update more frequently. Believe me, darlings, I wish I could. Too much stuff to do for school. I know you all forgive me, though, don't you, Pookies...? Another angsty chapter, let me know what you think!
Chapter 13
He was lying awake in bed, holding her, listening to the sound of her breath, even, steady, finally peaceful. He couldn't sleep. There were too many things on his mind, bothering him, reminding him of what was going on. He tried to shake them off. He wouldn't think about it. He wouldn't let it all get to him. At least not until they'd have the results. He sighed. He couldn't believe it was happening. What were the odds? Andy, of all people, Maureen's husband? Did he give her AIDS without ever telling her? Did she give it to Libby? Would he lose them, too?
Don't, he stopped himself. Don't think about it. Yeah, it was easier to say than do. All his thoughts were drifting back in the same direction, and he couldn't do much to stop it. He looked at Maureen. Her eyes were closed, her hair falling softly on his chest. She was holding him too, almost clinging to him, in a helpless kind of way that was so unlike her. He thought back of how beautiful she was just the previous night, right before this whole nightmare had started. They didn't even have the chance to dance together, he suddenly realized and tightened his grip around her. Tears were stinging in the corners of his eyes again. God, he couldn't do this. He couldn't pretend everything was okay, because it wasn't. He didn't want to lose her, like he already lost the rest of them. Not her. Not after he got her back.
He glanced at his watch. Her parents would be there soon. He wasn't sure how he would handle them. Calling them from the hospital wasn't as simple a task as he hoped. Her mother sensed right away that something was wrong. Her father picked up the phone as well probably from the same reason. He told them what happened, where they were. Her mother cried. Her father asked some questions, but there was this unmistakable shakiness to his voice. Then her mother seemed to pull herself together and said they'd be there as soon as they could.
He thought about that other phone call he did after this one. He didn't dare telling Maureen about it. Considering how wrecked this whole thing had left her, how angry she was the night before, he thought she would be better off not knowing. He thought it was strange though, that all he got when he tried to reach Andy was his answering machine on both his cell and his home. He didn't leave a message. He knew it would be useless. Andy was clearly avoiding him. When things would calm down a little, he'd pay him a visit. He thought he had a right to learn the truth.
He sat up and gently laid Maureen on the mattress. She didn't even stir. He slipped out of bed and got dressed, then left their bedroom, closing the door after him. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do. He wanted to call Andy again, but he didn't want to do it when Maureen was around, because he knew what her opinion would be. He had some paperwork for the gallery that had to be done, but he didn't think he could concentrate in anything at the moment. He reminded himself to give his lawyer a call as well, to say they'd have to reschedule their meeting to sign on the papers. He knew that their lives would go back to normal only after they'd get the results back. Or they might not, said an inner voice. He shook it off. Don't.
He found himself in Libby's room. Everything was small, colorful, and right where it should be, which he found surprising for a five-year-old. Her stuffed animals were on one of the lower shelves, her dolls and tea table at the far end of the room, near the window. The spot that was usually occupied by Roger the Bear, on a small chair right next to Libby's bed, was now empty. Roger went to Jersey with Libby, of course, and he suddenly found himself missing that rumpled teddy bear.
He sat on the bed and stared blankly at the apple-green wall. A familiar sight caught his eye and he smiled, picking up a doll that was sitting against the pillows. It was that ridiculous Piglet Maureen got for Libby when they met at Bloomingdales. He remembered how shocked he was when he realized that the beautiful little girl he helped only minutes before was Maureen's. He didn't remember exactly how he felt; it was a mixture of so many emotions at once. That Christmas brought one surprise after another; first meeting her again, then discovering that she was divorced and then meeting her daughter… What was it with him and Christmases? Why couldn't they ever be peaceful? And he was not even supposed to celebrate them!
A knock came at the door. He opened his eyes, sitting up. He didn't even remember lying down. He must have fallen asleep at some point. The last rays of the afternoon sun were streaming into the room, giving it a weird shade of orange. He was just sitting there for a while, a bit disoriented, until the knocking resumed. Then he realized that Maureen was still sleeping, and he hurried down the hall before the knocking would wake her as well.
Libby launched herself at him the moment he opened the door. He laughed softly as he almost toppled backwards from the sudden attack, but then he wrapped his arms around her, picked her up and held her close, drawing comfort from her presence. He looked over her shoulder to acknowledge Richard and Elizabeth Johnson, both grave-looking and older than he has ever seen them. The three of them exchanged a long, sad look before he turned his attention back to Libby, making enormous efforts to appear happy in front of her.
"Hey, beautiful. Did you have fun?"
"Yes," she nodded as he put her down and ushered them all inside.
Elizabeth was helping Libby to take off her coat. Richard was looking at the two of them, and then turned to look at him. "How is Maureen?" he asked quietly, as if to make sure it wouldn't get to Libby's ears.
"She took some sleeping pills the doctor gave her, so she's asleep."
"When will you get the results?"
"During next week, but we need to get Libby tested too. We'll take her there tomorrow morning."
Richard shook his head sorrowfully. "This is unbelievable."
"Yeah. Yeah, it is," he said sadly. He couldn't even start imagining what it all did for Richard and Elizabeth. He knew how close they were to Maureen.
"Did he talk to her, or-"
"No. He saw her and ran off. It all happened so fast."
"It must have been horrible for you," said Richard, his tone sympathetic.
"More confusing than horrible, I guess. I still don't get it."
"And she never mentioned his name to you before?"
"No, and I didn't ask. It seemed really painful for her to talk about him, so I let it go."
"Where's mommy?" asked Libby all of a sudden, approaching him again. She was holding her bear. She was looking at him, into him. Her gaze was innocent, yet unmistakably concerned, as if she somehow knew that something was wrong. He knew it was difficult to fool her, almost impossible, so he decided to stick to the truth; or to what sounded most like it.
"She's not feeling very well, Sweetie. She's asleep." He saw Elizabeth flinch and look away. Richard approached her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, as if to comfort her. He knelt beside Libby and messed with her hair a bit. "You can go in and say hi if you want."
She looked at him hopefully. "Can I?"
"Yeah. I think she'd like that. Go ahead, Sweetie." He waited until Libby disappeared down the hall before he stood up again and turned to face Elizabeth. She looked shaken and a little pale. He knew that she had never really approved Maureen's first choice of marriage. She said it was a matter of instincts. And later, when her instincts turned out to be correct, she could never forgive Andy for what he did to Maureen. But now? He could only guess what impact the new information about Andy's HIV had on her. "Can I get you anything?"
She shook her head and sat down. "No, thank you. I only need a moment." She raised her head to look at him. "How are you, Mark?"
This took him by surprise. He surely wasn't expecting her to show concern for him. And still, he took a moment to consider her question. How was he? "I'm… not sure," he said eventually.
"I was afraid of that. I told Maureen once she signed those papers. This wasn't over, I told her. He would be back. But this…" her voice trailed off as she wiped the tears that were streaming down her face now, once Libby was out of sight. His heart broke. "I'm glad you're here for her though," she said after a while. "She's lucky to have you."
"I'm the one who's lucky," he said, his throat choking with new tears.
Richard and Elizabeth didn't stay over. They spent some time with Maureen as he took Libby to bed, to give them some privacy, and then, several hours later, they left. Maureen was quiet for the rest of the evening. He made dinner and watched her as she ate, slowly and very little. She had that contemplated expression on and she still looked tired, in spite of all those hours she slept. He asked her some questions, but her answers were short, quiet, somewhat distracted, so he tried not to press her. He'd take things her way.
He didn't know what Maureen told Libby, but she agreed to go to the hospital the next morning without protesting. Luckily, Noah was already there when they got to the ER, so he was relieved that at least they wouldn't have to stay there for long. He hated hospitals. Especially this one, where he lost most of his friends.
Libby was clinging to him, clutching his hand, obviously scared, but she said nothing. He almost admired her for being such a brave little girl, so much braver than himself. Noah guided them into a room down the hall. The walls were bright lilac-colored, and there were posters of Disney characters and cartoons all over the place. Only when Noah told Libby that she had to lie down on the examination bed she froze. She was clutching his hand even tighter and shook her head, her lower lip beginning to tremble.
Maureen stepped forward. She knelt down next to her daughter and whispered something in her ear. Her whispering was soft, transfixing, and although he couldn't make out her words, he found himself staring at her, mesmerized. He didn't know what she was saying to her, but he could feel Libby's grip slowly loosening, and before he knew it, Maureen picked her up and laid her gently on the bed.
He looked away as the nurse prepared her equipment, and Noah started explaining the procedure to Libby. He couldn't watch. Maureen was sitting next to her, holding her close. Libby only cried the second the needle pierced her skin, but only for a moment. Then Maureen started talking to her, distracting her from what Noah was doing. He was still looking away, but he could hear Maureen as she was asking questions, and Libby's soft, quiet replies.
"It wasn't so bad, wasn't it?" he asked her afterwards, as he picked her up. He was so proud of her. Maureen was signing some papers Noah gave her, but then quickly joined them.
"I think you were more scared than she was," she said, a spark of mischief in her eyes. He was so relieved to detect that old, teasing tone. It felt as if everything was slowly going back to normal.
"I just hate needles," he said defensively.
"Poor Marky. Want me to ask the nurse to fetch you a lollipop too?" she asked teasingly. Then she looked at Libby, who was sucking on a red lollipop of her own. "Are you feeling okay, Baby?"
Libby nodded and smiled. Her tongue was colored bright red, exactly the color of the lollipop. "I'm okay, mommy."
Maureen looked relieved. "Good."
She looked as if she was willing to get out of there, the sooner the better. This was exactly how he felt. He took her hand. "Are you okay, Baby?" he asked, making sure that the humor in his voice was notable. She'd strangle him the next time he'd call her Baby, he knew. He didn't want to risk that.
To his relief, she returned his smile, giving his hand a little squeeze. "Yeah. I'm okay."
The following week has been hectic. As if they didn't have enough on their minds already, both of them were busy over their heads with work. Yet somehow they both managed to get home early each day, to be with Libby and with one another. They didn't talk much, but somehow it wasn't necessary. As far as he was concerned, her presence alone was comforting. He just wanted to be home with her. When he saw her enter the apartment one day and smile with relief as she found him home, he knew she was feeling the same.
The nights were sleepless. They fell asleep an hour before dawn and woke up couple of hours later, drowsy and disoriented, so by the time it was Wednesday, he was completely exhausted. Unfortunately, he couldn't head back home after closing time. He had a Life meeting that afternoon. For the first time in his life, he didn't feel like going there. He hadn't had a chance to call Andy again as he planned, he was so busy. He wasn't sure how he should react when they'd meet. What should he say? Should he apologize? He had nothing to apologize for, he did nothing wrong. Should Andy apologize? And would he?
"Mark. You're here."
He raised his head to see Oliver, who was approaching him. "Hey Oliver," he said, repressing a yawn.
Oliver looked at him concerned. "I wanted to call you but I was out of town from Sunday. You disappeared so quickly on Saturday, I wanted to ask if everything's okay."
He sighed, but decided not to tell Oliver the truth about what happened. It should have been Maureen's decision whether or not to tell anyone. "Yeah. Everything's fine. Maureen wasn't feeling well so we left early."
Oliver's expression brightened as he mentioned her name. "She's great, Mark. She's beautiful, and funny, and intelligent. Why she chose you is beyond me," he joked, and then turned serious again. "You're lucky."
I know, he thought sadly. "Thanks Oliver."
As they were approaching the auditorium where the meeting was about to take place, Oliver turned to look at him again. "Say Mark, have you heard from Andy?"
His heart skipped a beat. Maybe talking with Oliver would turn out to be useful after all. "No… no I haven't. Why?"
"Because he left early on Saturday, too. Jesse was supposed to meet him yesterday, but Andy never showed up, so he went over to his place, and the landlord said that he last saw him on Sunday morning, leaving with a travel bag, but no one saw him come back, and he told no one he was planning to go someplace. I know you two were pretty close, so I thought that maybe you knew something about it," he ended, a hopeful note to his voice.
"I don't. He never said anything about leaving. I didn't know he left earlier too on Saturday." A chill ran through him. The very fact that Andy suddenly disappeared made him appeared even more guilty, as if he really had something to hide. Now he was beginning to panic.
"Mark? Is everything okay?" asked Oliver, touching his arm.
"Yeah. I'm just… tired. I didn't sleep so well and it's been a crazy day and all-"
"Why don't you go home and get some rest? You look as if you could use that."
The idea was tempting, but he felt too committed to Life to simply leave. He looked at Oliver, torn between what he wanted to do and what he should do. "Are you sure?"
"Of course. You look wrecked. Go, we'll see you next week. I'm sure everyone will understand."
He didn't hesitate. Suddenly he felt that he'd fall off his feet if he'd stay there a moment longer. "Alright. I'll go. Thanks Oliver."
"No problem. I'll be in touch tomorrow, to see how you are. And send my regards to your beautiful fiancée."
"I will. Thanks again Oliver." He turned to go, but then turned back to Oliver. "Hey, and if you'll hear from Andy… will you let me know?" Oliver looked at him, silent questions in his eyes. "I just… wanna make sure he's okay."
"Sure, I'll let you know once we're able to reach him."
If you could, he thought grimly, and turned to go.
The apartment was quiet when he stepped in. He spotted Maureen right away, asleep on the couch. Her recently purchased laptop laid open on the coffee table, along with some folders and what looked like an empty tea mug. Maureen was lying on the couch, half covered by a plaid woolen blanket. He heard muffled voices from the direction of their bedroom, so he assumed Libby was there, watching TV. He approached the couch and knelt next to it. Maureen's eyes snapped open before he had a chance to do anything else.
"Mark… hey. What are you doing here?" she asked huskily, sitting up.
"Oliver sent me home," he said, sitting next to her. The blanket slipped to the floor as he did, and he bent to pick it up, then wrapped it around both of them. Maureen laid her head against his shoulder. "What's up with you?"
"Well, I'm supposed to be working," she said, nodding towards her laptop. "But I can't." She didn't have to say more. He could read all the rest in her eyes. She was stressed, and distracted, and too worried to do anything else. God knew, he felt exactly the same.
"I know. I hope we'll hear from Noah soon."
"Did you meet Andy?" she asked, looking straight at him.
"No. He never showed up."
"I knew it," she said quietly, looking away. Then she turned to face him again. "If you're hungry I can-" she started. He reached for her arm, stopping her.
"Don't. I'm okay."
She sighed and laid down, resting her head against his knees. She closed her eyes as he ran his hands through her hair absent-mindedly. "I'm so tired."
"I know. It'll be over soon," he promised.
She opened her eyes and looked up at him skeptically. "Will it?"
"It will. One way or another." He hoped that it would be the right way, at least.
"Cohen, is everything okay?"
He raised his head from the paperwork on his desk to meet Tammy's concerned gaze. She was standing on his doorway, looking at him intently. "Of course. Everything's fine," he said. He wished people would stop asking him this. Thank God, it was almost the end of this nightmarish week. He hoped it wouldn't take much longer. He got to a point where he didn't even care what the results would be. The anticipation alone was killing him.
Tammy didn't buy what he hoped was his most determined tone, it seemed, for she walked into the office and closed the door. Then she sat across from him and gave him a look. "Everything is not fine. You're going through something you're not telling me about. Don't you think I can tell? I know you long enough, Cohen," she said softly. It was one of those rare moments when there was not a hint of sarcasm in her voice, only pure concern. "I'm here if you wanna talk about it, okay? I thought you knew that."
"I do know that."
"Then what happened? What is it that you're not telling me? Ever since you got back to work on Monday… I don't know, it's like you're here in your body, but not with you're mind. And it's weird because I know how much this gallery means to you. But lately all you want to do from the moment we open is to get back home. I'm beginning to worry about you, Cohen," she reached over and took his hand. His eyes met hers. Their gazes locked. "Tell me what happened," she asked.
And he did. He couldn't hold it in. He had to let it out, to tell someone. Tammy remained silent as he spoke, listening intently to his story. He told her everything; about the reason Maureen got divorced in the first place, about who her husband turned out to be, about how he found out everything, almost a week ago at the Life benefit. She remained silent even after he finished his story.
"I… I'm not sure what to say," she said slowly. "Is there anything I can do?"
"Pray. That's all I find myself doing in the past couple of days."
Tammy shook her head. "God. Poor Maureen."
"Yeah. But she took it pretty well. Better than I expected."
"He looked like such a nice guy when he was here."
"I know. That's the craziest thing." Then he remembered something, and smirked. "And to think I was trying to set him up with you."
Her jaw dropped. "You what? Oh, you're just like your mom," she said, rolling her eyes, and he was relieved that their conversation was shifting into a lighter tone. The phone rang, and he reached for it absent-mindedly. "Hello?"
"Mark?"
"Cindy?" He didn't think he'd hear from her so soon. True, their last conversation gave him hope, but he wasn't sure if she was thinking the same as she left his gallery the previous week.
"Yeah. How are you?"
My life is falling to pieces. "Everything's okay. You?"
"You know. I was thinking… well, last week you said something about us meeting for dinner, and I thought…" her voice trailed off.
"Oh." That was all he could say. This took him completely by surprise. He thought she said she'd meet Maureen only to shake him off. Okay, so it wasn't like Cindy to say things she didn't mean to say, but still…
"Unless today is not a good time," she added hesitantly, obviously misinterpreting his long silence.
Shit. He didn't mean to give the impression he didn't want them to meet. "Oh no, no. Cindy, I didn't mean it like this, it's just… we'll have to reschedule… for next week or so. I… we have a lot of our mind right now. I'd hate to meet you just to get it over with."
"Oh. I hope everything is okay though," she half asked, half said.
"Yeah. It's just a bit crazy for us in work… and this wedding and all, you know. We'll do this next week, I promise."
"Alright. Just let me know when you can meet, okay?"
"Sure thing." His cell started ringing. "Damn. Cindy, I'll have to call you back, okay? Say hi to everyone for me."
"I will. Talk to you soon," she said and hung up.
Tammy smirked as he put the receiver back on its hook and reached for his cell. "The entire world is looking for you today, huh?
"Ha, ha," he said, rolling his eyes, and the ringing stopped as he accepted the call. "Hello?"
"Mark?" His smile faded. She only said his name, but he knew that tone. He instantly knew why she was calling.
"Mo. What's up?"
"Can you leave the gallery for a while in like half an hour?"
He glanced at Tammy, then at his watch. Yeah, he could manage that. "Yeah. I can. Where do you want me to meet you?"
"At the hospital." She paused, taking a deep breath. "Noah called. Our tests' results are back."
