Mark carried Maureen over to the small red and brown couch that sat under the window in the tiny apartment. He ever so gently set her down, and walked over to the kitchenette. With as much composure as possible, as he had very little, Mark grabbed a small bowl from the cupboard and found a washcloth and wet it with cold water. He filled the bowl with extra water. Mark then walked back over to the couch and pulled Maureen onto his lap, and began to dab her flushed face with the damp cloth.
When Maureen regained consciousness, she looked up at the little filmographer with such sweetness that Mark's hopes were shattered. He had hoped that when he saw Maureen that he wouldn't fall in love with her again. He didn't at first, but that one tiny look with her deep green eyes, and all his work to repair the small hole in his heart was put to no good use.
She smiled at him, and then Maureen put her head on Mark's shoulder and fell asleep within minutes. He came and went in between consciousnesses; until Mark was finally completely awake with worry. He needed to have a little talk with Maureen.
"Mo? Reeny, wake up, baby." Mark gently cooed as he softly woke the drama queen. She slowly sat up and said, "What happened?"
Mark refused to explain until she explained some things first. "When was the last time you ate real food, Maureen?"
Mo looked at her fingers, which were intertwined with Mark's. "Umm…" She hesitated. "Not since Jo left." She cringed, waiting for the explosion. But it never came. At least, not in the way she expected him to.
"WHAT! But that was a little over a week ago, why haven't you been eating?" This is what Maureen had been expecting, but not what came next.
"I…don't know how to cook," Maureen explained. "Joanne always cooked meals for me, and when she left, I had no money to even buy cereal, let alone real food. I'm so scared Marky, that's the third time I've passed out since she left. What do I do?" Being the drama queen that she was, Maureen started to cry. But Mark knew that these were real tears, not an act.
"Maureen? C…Can I tell you something?" Mark asked, stuttering slightly.
"Anything, Pookie, anything." She lovingly replied.