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I didn't know what had come over me—nothing could explain my sudden, violent outburst. Nothing could make it okay. She should never forgive me. There is no excuse for physical violence, nothing that made it okay to be that similar to my father. It was unforgivable. I cursed myself for the stupidity of my actions as I heard her boots clatter away from the loft and down the cement stairs, not having meant to drive her away, glad that Collins had been there to prevent me from hurting her—and suddenly I heard a loud thud. Oh shit…Mimi's huge metal door screeched open, but that noise was nothing compared to Mimi's cry, which was when I knew for certain something was wrong. Oh fuck…oh my God I hope she's okay. Mark and Collins shot me nasty looks as panic, concern, and intense regret washed over my body—I couldn't move.
"Roger, move your fucking ass! This is all your fault! I know you hate her, but that's no excuse!" Great. Just what I need—for Mark to be pissed at me. Not that he even understands the situation—he doesn't even know about Elsie. Is he really that ignorant to not know that I care about her? That she is my world…and moon, and stars…and all that I have ever known of true family. Somehow I think that if he knew it would make things worse. Surely I'd never be allowed in the same room as Elsie (or Maureen for that matter). Oh God…I hope she's not hurt to badly. Suddenly, instead of being the straggler, I was the first of us down. She looks so pathetic…there's so much blood…too much blood…how could this have happened? Her five foot four frame was sprawled over the cement in a hopelessly twisted position, Mimi already huddled over her body, sobbing.
"Oh God! Mark shut that fucking thing off!" He scurried down the last couple of stairs, not obliging me, quickly drawing in a sharp breath when he laid eyes on her maimed body, and I could tell that he was crying behind the lens. Collins followed behind him, stopping dead at the sight before him. "Maureen! Maureen, honey, can you hear me?" Mimi had stepped aside, the three of them stunned. "Somebody call 911!" At that, they all started to move, but Collins went to the phone in Mimi's apartment. Why is he always the one calling? I had carefully rolled Maureen over, holding her, my hands bathed in her blood.
"I'm on hold!" Oh my God…how is this happening? I thought that the thing with Mimi was enough drama, but then I had to fuck that up by telling her about Elsie—no day but today, you know? Then because I'm stupid I start swinging at the woman who is my life force? And she falls down the stairs trying to escape from me? What kind of a monster am I?
"We have to get her to the hospital now! And someone has to call Joanne! Oh God…this is bad." I still hadn't moved from her side, holding her desperately. I hadn't noticed, but I was receiving awkward glances from Mark and Mimi because of my true fear and concern, which was somehow much stronger for Maureen than it had been for Mimi. The intensity of my own emotion and fear scared me, the sharp pain that seared throughout my entire body, felt like there were knives in my lungs, like I was dying…she can't leave me…I need her…I was so stupid…I need her to know that I love her…I love her…I have never loved anyone else, not the way that I love her…I need her! Oh God, I need her. That can't be the last she ever sees of me…that's not right! It's not fair!
"I got through! They're coming…I only hope it's not too late." He called out instructions for how to care for Mo until the paramedics arrived as the dispatcher gave them. Mimi had finally moved, going up to our loft to call Joanne. Eventually, the ambulance arrived, after we had managed to control the bleeding, which actually wasn't anywhere near as bad as I had thought, when I finally managed to calm down enough to be objective and helpful. She had been, fortunately, breathing when we found her, though unconscious. I got into the ambulance with her, and nobody objected, but I got the impression that after this was all over, I would be questioned about this. Just because the others knew about Elsie (except for Mark, who was still in the dark), didn't mean that they understood that our profound love for each other had never gone away. We hadn't told them, tried to hide it, deny it, but in this moment, nothing else mattered. I held her hand tightly as I sat there in the ambulance, scared to death. Scared to death…the thought made me shudder. I need her back.
About half way to the hospital, Maureen came to, and was clearly disoriented, trying to figure out where she was.
"Rog?" The sound of her voice, weak, scared and confused, was enough to make silent tears slide down my cheeks, and my voice crack when I tried to respond.
"Yeah baby?" She smiled softly.
"Since when do you call me that?" I gently stroked her cheek, looking into her eyes cautiously, certain that she didn't remember the way that I had tried to hurt her, or else she certainly wouldn't have trusted me so easily. She seemed suddenly tormented by a sharp pain, and I wished desperately that there were something that I could do. "What happened?"
"You fell down the stairs from the loft…" Her face screwed up a little, trying hard to remember, then suddenly, she withdrew her hand from mine, trembling.
"Hey…sweetie…" I tried to reach out and touch her, but she flinched.
"No, Roger…you don't get to do that! You just can't…just…" Her body was engulfed in sobs, and I longed to hold her, to tell her that everything was going to be okay. She wouldn't even look at me. I dropped my head into my hands, ashamed.
"Maureen, I'm sorry. I'm sorry…God, I don't know what…came over me. Please, I love you, damnit!" I winced as I slammed my fist into my thigh, a lot harder than I had intended to. She turned her head to look at me, and we arrived at the hospital as she was opening her mouth to say something, and there was a flurry of paramedics and we were rushing about her, taking her into the building quickly. I tried to keep up with them, but they pushed me aside, and I was left standing there, confused. They said there was nothing seriously wrong with her…A few minutes later, one of the nurses backtracked and led me to the waiting area closest to where they had taken her, telling me that they were just making sure that everything was okay, and they had to give her stitches, being that she had cracked her head open slightly, but she would likely be okay—she had seemed very responsive and alert. Oh thank God! I let go of the breath that I hadn't realized I was holding, and collapsed onto one of the uncomfortable plastic bench-type things. A few minutes later, a med student and doctor emerged from the room, saying that she would be fine, although she was on pretty intense painkillers, so she probably wouldn't behave normally. Ha. Clearly they don't know Maureen. Maybe she will be a little sane…Most importantly though, they told me that I could go in to see her. I hope she'll talk to me. As I headed towards her room, I heard a commotion, and turned around to see the others running up to me.
"Roger, what the hell is going on here?" Joanne demanded of me.
"She had to get some stitches but she's going to be fine. They want to keep her over night because it is a head injury, so they want to make sure everything is in order." I quickly turned away from them and continued into the room. The others, even Joanne, seemed to understand that I wanted to be alone with her. I vaguely heard Mark muttering in puzzlement about what was going on as I closed the door. "Hey Maureen." She responded without even turning her head to face me, staring at the wall on the opposite side of the room.
"Go to Hell, Roger."
"I deserved that." I walked up closer to the bed, and stood on the side that she was facing, forcing her to look at me, and sat in the chair that was beside the bed.
"What the fuck do you want from me, Roger? Huh?" She still looked scared, but was trying to be hard, cold and detached. It didn't become her, but I could understand her anger.
"Mo, I know that I fucked up…just please…I love you." She blinked and turned away from me as her eyes filled with tears, trying to hide them from me. I gingerly reached out for her hand, barely touching it. Her hand twitched, but she didn't pull it away. Maureen had always been one for physical comfort and closeness. She loved to cuddle, hug…anything. I missed that most about her, even though her neediness had sometimes scared me. "I never wanted to hurt you—you have to know that. You are my everything, Maureen." She looked back at me, tears freely coursing down her face now.
"Then why did you do it Rog? You said you would never…you said you…how could you? Why? What did I do, Rog? What? You scared me. You hurt me. I just…wanted…"
"Shh…sweetie, it's okay." I had moved a little closer to her, stroking her hair. She moved closer, too, wrapping her arms around me, her chest heaving with emotion, tears soaking through my t-shirt.
"Just hold me…hold me…promise me…you won't ever do that…you won't do it again. I can't…handle…it…I'm…sorry…about…Mimi…"
"I know. It wasn't your fault, Mo. I felt guilty…that's why I came after you…that's why I told her…I love you…I can't live a lie, Mo…and you don't have to feel the same way…but…I just can't do it." Now I was crying too, holding her so close, so tight…never wanting to let her go. We were both mourning the unlucky circumstances in which we now found ourselves stuck.
As we sat there, holding on to one another for what seemed like forever, our mourning was disturbed by Mark screaming "WHAT!", which made us both laugh. I wiped her tears, the pleasant expression lingering on my face, and she smiled as well, giggling as I was wiping her tears and simultaneously crying, and she brought her hands up to my face to do the same. I aimed to kiss her cheek, but she moved and it somehow landed on her lips, and her eyes widened, as did mine, but she pulled me closer, neither of us wanting to let go. A couple of minutes later, flushed and confused, our mouths separated. My hands had roamed and found their place on her breasts; I had somehow ended up on top of her, her back arched to meet me, pelvis rocking forward, moaning softly…we stared at each other, wide-eyed.
"We shouldn't…I mean…you…"
"I know. I want…I have to talk to…"
"Joanne."
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"Joanne." It hardly seems fair to Joanne…I mean, she hasn't done anything wrong, and I love her dearly…but…it's not the same. I miss him. I need him. I love him. I wish that I felt differently…but this just confirmed the fact that I was trying to deny—we both want each other. Collins was right. Again. Roger rolled off of me, off the bed and headed for the door. "Hey, Rog?"
"Yeah babe?"
"Do you think it's unfair, that I did this to her?"
"Maybe. We fucked up really badly, didn't we? I feel like this is my fault…"
"Well, no…I mean…that's just life…everything that we do has repercussions…"
"It would be worse to keep stringing her along and pretending that everything is okay." And just like that, all of my hesitation dissolved as I realized that he was right, that we had both been fostering artificial relationships, fake love. No day but today…I've got to make this right. For Roger. For Elsie. For Joanne. For Mimi. This cannot continue…we're living a lie—in denial. We have to learn to live. For all of Mimi's pain, I know that she understands it, she gets it. Joanne, on the other hand…she'll never understand. I don't know that she's ever really been passionate about anything…that's what drew her to me. But it can't work—it won't work. Roger left the room after looking at me for a long moment, trying to get into my head and let Joanne in.
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"YOU HAVE A DAUGHTER?" Oy vey…and I'm not even the Jewish one here…
"Hi Mark. Yes." I couldn't help but laugh at his astonished face, his seeming inability to comprehend.
"Why didn't…" He looked at me accusingly, but I cut him off, putting my hands up in front of me.
"Don't look at me! I didn't even know until last year!" Then Mimi added,
"I didn't even know until today! And Rog…do whatever you have to do. I don't blame you. I'm not thrilled, but…hey, you gotta live how you gotta live."
"Are we cool?" She looked at me, contemplating.
"We'll get there, Rog." Mark was gaping at me now.
"Mark, you are not a codfish." He looked confused.
"But…Maureen…argh." He rubbed his head, as if the recent happenings were giving him a headache.
"Chill Mark, it's okay."
"But I thought you hated her!" I rolled my eyes at him.
"Maybe I should go into theatre, then. Get over it, dude." He sighed, and retreated to a chair in a corner of the room beside a plant, fiddling with his camera, muttering to himself.
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"But darling, do you two really feel that you need to get back together with him?" I knew that she wouldn't understand. I hate breaking her heart like this, but if Roger could give up Mimi, then there is no reason why I, the queen of dumping the sweet and innocent, should have no problem with it. But Rog will die…Joanne isn't sick…but that's superficial. And he might not die for a long time…I hope. "Forget regret or life is yours to miss."
"Pookie—Joanne, I'm really sorry…and I really do love you…but I just…you have to understand, I was being stupid. I shouldn't have done this to you, dragged you along all this time. Friends?" She was crying, but containing herself very well compared to the time that she freaked out at our commitment ceremony because I was flirting with some stupid girl…although, I suppose this is more serious, I mean…I'm not being unfaithful, I'm just plain ending it. I was trying to be optimistic, not wanting to fall to pieces.
"Maureen, I don't think that I can do that. We can be civil, and I promise I will try. I can't cut this 'family' out of my life entirely—I have no one else. No please excuse me while I remove your things from my apartment." With that, the flow of tears metamorphosed into cold, hard anger as she breezed out of the room, muttering something like "tango to Hell" under her breath. I let myself fall back on the bed, bawling, turning over to bury my face in the pillow. I felt a large hand settle on my side.
"Collins, I screwed up, didn't I?" I turned so that I could look at him as I asked this question, my voice cracking.
"Mo…you just have to stand by your convictions. You need Roger, right? You love him? More than Joanne?" I nodded, knowing I had done what I had to do given the circumstances.
"I wish that it didn't hurt so much." He hugged me warmly, in that almost fatherly way.
"I know baby girl. But you'll survive. You will thrive, even. And now you can bring Elsie back into your life, really get to know and love her."
"I miss my baby…" I sighed, looking him over. "I scared you, didn't I? Look at you, you're a wreck!" He chuckled.
"You know Maureen, no matter how many times I've almost lost you, it gets scarier every time." His eyes were filled with tears, and I clung to him like a small child, my own tears saturating his shirt.
"I'm sorry that I'm so horrible Collins…I honestly don't know how you can stand me. You have been so great to me…" He pulled me in closer to his chest.
"Oh, Mo…I love you! Please, don't try anything like this again. You gotta stop doing this to me—my poor heart can't take any more of this!" Outwardly he laughed, but I knew that on the inside he meant it. There was a soft, hesitant knock on the door, and Collins released me.
"It's me, Mark." I laughed. Good old Mark…such a cutie pie.
"Come in, honey." He came in, still hiding behind that camera of his, looking a little traumatized. "Mark, did you just find out about Elsie?" He nodded, looking very much like a small, innocent child who had somehow been corrupted. Like Benji used to…I wish I could make things right with him… "Aww, come here." I patted the spot on the bed where Collins, who had now risen to leave, had been sitting. Collins nodded to me and departed.
"Why am I always the last be told everything," he whined, "why didn't you tell me?" I sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"Marky. I know that you're upset, and I am very sorry. It was a mistake to wait as long as I did to tell Roger, and everyone else for that matter. Can we get past this now? I have to ask you something." He nodded, and I proceeded cautiously. "Okay, well, as you probably know, Roger and I are getting back together," at first he looked a little startled, but nodded slowly, "and I need somewhere to live. And Elsie does to. So, what I really need to know, is can we move into the loft with you and Rog?" Please, please let this make him feel better. I haven't even asked Roger yet…please, please Marky say yes…He nodded hesitantly, then more vigorously.
"Yes, Maureen. It would be really great if you moved into the loft. Not to sound like I don't love you, but we do kind of need some help with expenses…I mean, with Benny acting so strangely all the time," I smacked him in the back of the head playfully, and he added, "but, on a more personal level, it would be good for Roger, and you know that I would do anything for you…" He was rambling again, but I cut him off out of pure excitement, squeezing him tightly, then kissing him. "You know, Mo, it might be good if you…"
"Don't do that anymore? Yeah. Okay." We giggled, just sitting with each other, talking. I told him about her, and a lot of little stories that I hadn't gotten to tell him before, and it just felt right.