Mark hadn't seen Maureen since the night of Joanne's death. He woke up on the couch, tucked in the same blanket she was wearing the night before. He noticed his glasses placed neatly on the coffee table with a note next to them:
Mark, thanks millions for letting me stay. It meant a lot to me. Don't worry about me, I'm fine, I just need to get away for a while.
That was the last he'd heard from her. Now, a week and many phone calls later, Mark wondered if he'd even see her at the funeral this afternoon.
He walked out of his apartment building into the cold New York air. It was November, coming close to Christmas, almost three years after Maureen's protest.
He closed his eyes remembering that night. It was so perfect. Everyone had everything they'd wanted. Everyone except him. He did sell his footage of the protest therefore getting his break, but his heart was still empty that night. Maureen had Joanne, Collins had Angel and Roger had Mimi. He felt like a 7th wheel. It was still a great night though. It was a great time of their lives for all of them.
He was pulled out of his thoughts suddenly by the feeling of a body slamming into his. He opened his eyes quickly, finding himself outside the church where the funeral was to be. He looked into the face of Maureen, whom he'd almost knocked over.
"Hey," he said sheepishly, "sorry…"
"It's okay," She said quickly and coldly. He looked into her face. There were dark circles underneath her eyes, and she looked quite pale. She was not wearing any make-up, nor did it look like she took any effort to take care of herself. His eyes went down her body, she most definitely looked thinner.
"Where have you been? I've tried to call you to see if you were all right, but I kept getting your answering machine."
Her eyes turned a cold dark brown, "It doesn't matter where I was. Why do you care? Don't try to pry into my life Mark, I don't need that too."
He was taken aback with her cold words. She'd changed. In one short week, the death of her girlfriend had morphed her into a completely different person. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, knowing that it was no use arguing with her while she was in this sort of state.
She gave him a cold look and spun around on her heel and swiftly walked into the church.
He stood there dumbfounded for a moment, but none-the-less, followed her into the church a half of a minute later.
He spotted Collins and walked over to sit with him. "Hey," he said casually.
"Hey man," said Collins giving him a quick hug. After a few moment of silence, Collins said, "so here we are again…"
"I know," said Mark, "I don't know how much more death I can take."
"Hey, how's Maureen doing?" said Collins spotting Maureen sitting alone up in the front.
"She looks like she hasn't eaten since last week. And aside from just a minute ago, I hadn't heard from her since the night Joanne died. But when I did talk to her before," he looked around and quieted his voice, "she was bitter…"
Collins bit his lip. "That's her personality," he said after a moment of thought, "she bottles things up. After the initial shock, she opened up to us, and she let us take care of her, but she don't like feeling vulnerable."
Mark nodded. "Yep, that sounds like Maureen… Do you think she'll get over it?"
Collins shrugged. "Death is a hard thing to overcome." He looked down into his lap. "I would have never accepted Angel's death if it weren't for you, Roger, Mimi, Joanne and Maureen. She has completely cut herself off. Don't let her do that, or she will lose the purpose of life." Collins smiled. "Besides, you still love herrrr…"
Mark rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. I thought you stopped this last year. I'm not in love with Maureen anymore."
"Whatever man."
Just then the priest commenced the funeral.
The ceremony went by uneventfully. Afterwards, they all filed out onto the street to head towards the cemetery. Mark watched Maureen from behind. He had noticed she hadn't shed a single tear throughout the entire funeral. He looked over at Collins who gave him a 'go-now-or-you're-going-to-miss-your-chance' look. Mark took a deep breath and walked over to Maureen. He was about to tap her on her back when suddenly she lost her balance slightly and walked into a street sign. He was about to laugh, but thought better of it. He put his hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine!" she spat and pulled out of his grasp. She began walking briskly down the street towards the cemetery. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around to look Collins in the eye.
"This is going to be harder than I thought bro'. We'll figure something out okay?"
"Yeah, sure…" Mark said distantly.
As the priest said his final blessing, the coffin was lowered into the ground. Maureen's face remained stoic and straight. She didn't say one word, or move one inch. She was like a statue.
One by one, everyone left the cemetery until it was just Mark and Maureen. She had not moved from the spot she had been standing in the whole time.
"What do you want?" she said so eerily, it almost made his hair stand on end.
"Nothing I just wanted to make sure you were all-"
"Well I'm fine. So you can go." She said, still not moving. "You know what, it doesn't matter anyway. I'm leaving." She finally moved and walked away from the grave towards the street. He watched her for a minute, when he saw her lose her balance again and grab onto a headstone for support. She stopped mid-step and doubled over.
He ran to her side. "Maureen, are you all right?"
"I'm fine." She snapped, and stood up quickly to walk away, but failed and fell to the ground.
"Maureen!" he knelt beside her. "When was the last time you ate anything?"
She covered her face, and he knew she was finally crying. "I don't know…" she whimpered.
He picked her up bridal style and continued walking towards the street. "Maureen, I'm taking you to the hospital."
"What!" she screamed, "why?"
"Because," he said "you just collapsed in front of my eyes. We need to make sure there's nothing wrong with you."
"I'm fine!" she repeated again. He put her on her feet and held her shoulders.
"LISTEN!" Mark never raised his voice, but he was angry now. "You are not fine! You just fell over in front of me, doubled over in pain, and you can't even remember the last time you ate! You can't stop living your life because Joanne died. She would not want that Maureen."
Maureen was silent.
"I'm taking you to the hospital," he repeated, "and, you are eating this bar thing…" he pulled out a squashed Nutri-Grain bar out of his pocket and handed it to her.
She looked at it and then at him. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.
"Come on," he said slipping his arm around her middle to steady her as they walked, "I'm sure you're fine, but I want to be certain."
"Thank you," she muttered quietly as she opened the wrapper of the bar and nibbled on the end of it.
He knew the future lying ahead would be difficult, but he was willing to help her. He was more than willing. Was Collins right? Was Mark still in love with Maureen? Only time would tell.
