Roger's mood did not improve over the next two months. The holidays were fraught with tension. Thanksgiving was almost silent except for the occasional "please pass the mashed potatoes." Christmas brought clipped season's greetings and minimal good will. By New Year's Eve, Mark was fed up with his best friend. While Maureen, Benny, and Collins were out bar-hopping Mark decided to confront Roger.
The man of the hour was sitting on the ratty couch, a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniel's in his hand. It was his third bottle of the evening and it was only 10 o' clock. Mark was worried his friend was going to drink himself into a stupor. Roger's eyes were already glassy. He took another swig as Mark pulled up a chair across from him.
"You better slow down, man. Otherwise, you're gonna drown."
Roger merely scoffed at him and raised the bottle to his lips. Mark firmly lowered Roger's arm. Roger shook him off violently.
"Don't try to play the hero, Mark," he warned.
"Excuse me for giving a rat's ass about you! I'm sorry if seeing you slip into a severe depression worries me more than it does you!" Mark shot back.
"Go to hell."
"You know what? I've had it with you and your self-pity! If you won't snap out of it for your own sake, at least do it for Maureen."
"Why the fuck would she care what happens to me? She has Benny."
"You don't get it, do you? Have you paid any attention to her lately? She's not eating like she used to. Every time she sees you her smile fades and her mood wilts. Did you know she sits up most nights and cries?" Mark informed him.
Roger stared at him fuzzily. Was Maureen really that upset? He must be very drunk. It just wasn't possible. Mark could tell by the look on Roger's face that he didn't believe him.
"Just because she chose Benny doesn't mean she stopped caring about you. She's still your friend."
Mark was right. Roger put the Jack Daniel's down. His hands were shaking.
"God, I've been such an asshole to her," he groaned. "She must hate me by now."
Mark gripped Roger's shoulder comfortingly. "No, she's worried about you. She feels awful about what happened. Promise me you'll work things out with her."
Roger nodded in agreement. "I hope she can forgive me."
Mark gave him a small smile. "I know she will. C'mon, let's go out for a while. We can go to the bar down the street, even though I think you've had enough for the night," he said, indicating the almost empty bottle on the floor.
"All right 'Dad'. No more drinks for me. You, on the other hand, have some catching up to do," Roger teased.
Mark laughed. "I could never keep up with you!"
"Doesn't hurt to try."
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It was nearly noon when the gang stumbled in the doorway the next day. Collins flopped onto his bed with a mumbled "good night". Benny and Maureen shuffled heavily to their room and shut the door. Roger and Mark were the last two in. Mark helped Roger to the couch before heading to bed himself. He was the most sober out of everyone, but keeping an eye on his friends was exhausting.
Roger was just about to fall asleep when Maureen came rushing out of her room and into the bathroom. Seconds later, he could hear her throwing up. Cursing, he got up from the couch and went to help her. She flushed as he came through the door. He filled a cup with water and handed it to her.
"Rinse," he instructed before wetting a washrag and placing it on the back of her neck. Maureen did as she was told.
"Oh God, kill me now!" she moaned miserably.
"Why the fuck did you drink so much if you couldn't handle it?" asked Roger.
His tone pissed her off. "I don't have to fucking explain myself to you! I wanted to get drunk, so I did! Is that ok with you?"
Roger's eyes narrowed menacingly. "Why do I even bother being your friend? You're nothing but a self-centered, greedy bitch!"
Maureen stared at him in shock, tears welling up in her eyes. "Well, you've been a pretty shitty one the past few months," she managed to choke out before getting up unsteadily. She was halfway out the door when Roger pulled her into a fierce hug.
"I'm sorry, Mo. You're absolutely right. I have been the biggest dick to you just because I didn't get my way. I had no right to say what I did." He pulled away just enough to see her face. "Please forgive me."
Maureen was stunned. Roger had never apologized for anything before, at least not as long as she had known him. He looked truly repentant and tortured. She gently caressed his slightly stubbly face.
"I've been waiting to hear those words for the past two months. Of course I forgive you."
Roger sighed happily. He was glad everything was back to normal. He wanted to hold her forever, but he was starting to feel very tired.
"You should really get to bed. You're gonna have a killer hangover when you wake up later to begin with."
Maureen nodded sleepily into his shoulder. She let him walk her back to her room, after going back to the bathroom to brush her teeth, and wished him a good night. Roger went to sleep in a much better mood than he had the night before.