Disclaimer: I don't own them, though it'd be amazing if I did. XD

Notes: I know, I know I am a bad writer. I should've had this out like MONTHS ago if not longer, but when writer's block has the better of you, and you just can't get anything to come out of either boys' mouth, you kinda get stuck. It took me forever to get Mark to help me finish this. XDD Anyway, I hope y'all like it. This WAS gonna be the second to the last chap, BUT it wouldn't have worked so ONE more after this and then the final chap. I promise it'll be out sooner than this one so you guys can all finally see how it ends, and I'll have FINALLY finished a chapter fic. -claps fast- YAY me! XD

Reviews are VERY much welcome. PLEASE? I'll love you all forever! Not that I don't already, but you get the point. XD Enjoy!

Chapter 10 - Thank Heaven For Little Girls

It had been three months into her first year when my mom called asking me to bring the baby over so she could meet her. My mom hadn't even made an effort prior to that moment to see, or even hear about Angelina, but out of the blue, she called me, telling me to bring her over. I picked up the phone.

"Hi, mom."

"Honey, I want to meet my granddaughter. She's my flesh and blood too, and I have every right to see her. Bring her here so your father and I can meet the newest addition to the Cohen family. She is a Cohen, right? You did give her your name, didn't you?"

"Mom, I-" Just like before, and always, my mom made it difficult for me, or anyone to get a word in edgewise. I was always amazed at how she and my sister communicated. They talked over each other, and I swore they never heard either of what the other was saying, but…

"Marky, are you listening to me?"

Her words broke my concentration. "What did you say?" Thankfully I hadn't been paying attention to her, because she was going off on a tangent about something. "Uh, yes mom, I'm listening to you. You want me to bring Angelina over there. You do know-" I had to say this before she could say anything else. "Roger will be coming too." And before she had the chance to protest, I continued. "He is her father too. And he's as big a part of her life as am I, if not more."

Silence fell upon the phone for nearly an entire minute. The only sound coming from the phone was the sound of her breathing heavily. It was quite evident she didn't like the idea of Roger 'tagging' along.

"Well Mark…" She inhaled deeply. "If that's how it has to be…" Not another word was spoken then the clicking of the hook switch to the phone base was heard. She hung up on me. At least she didn't yell at me this time.

"Let me guess; she didn't like the idea of me coming too?" Roger asked bitterly.

"Well no, of course not, but she didn't make a big deal about it this time either. I think maybe she may actually be civil…"

Roger just gave me that look; 'What are you smoking?' "You actually think your mom… your mother; the scary little Jewish woman with a temper worse than mine; The one woman who swore she'd have me killed for 'corrupting' her 'baby boy' is gonna be civil to me?"

"I never said it was going to be easy." I chuckled nervously. "Hey, maybe she's finally accepting us as a couple, and…" There was no point in finishing that sentence. No way had my mom accept Roger and me as anything but friends. Not even that… roommates. That was the only acknowledgement she'd give us as a 'couple'.

"Right, and I am the fucking pope." Thank you, Sarcastoman. Fighting evil with sarcastic remarks, and bad jokes. I could tell this was going to be a fun time.

I loaded up the one car we shared with Angelina's car seat, baby bag, a few toys, which turned out to be half her toy box, and whatever else I could stuff in there that would keep Angelina safe, clean, and happy.

The ride to my mother's house was rather… unpleasant. Not because Angelina cried the entire time. In fact, she slept for most of the ride. But Roger and I had a discussion about past relationships, first talking about Maureen and me then it went into being about him and April.

April and I never really got along while they were together. In fact, she down right hated me. Anytime the two of them were together they used to team up on me, finding some way to embarrass me. It was torture… literally!

I glanced over at Roger in the passenger side seat; his head was almost out the window. "Roger, what are you doing?"

Roger grabbed at his stomach, and bore a grimacing look. "I'm gonna puke."

"Ugh, Roger, that's gross. Are you-- What's the matter?" Concerned, I reached over and touched his arm. "Are you going to be okay?"

I saw Roger nod through peripheral vision. "Yeah. I just don't feel good. I think it's your driving. You suck as a driver."

"I'm a good driver, Rog. Maybe you're just car sick."

"I don't get car sick-" Roger groaned loudly. "I've never gotten car sick."

"Well, maybe this time you did-"

"I don't fucking get car sick," Roger snapped, turning his head back toward the window, staring out at the passing trees, and houses, and whatever scenery we passed on our way to Scarsdale.

I turned my eyes back to the road ahead of me, dropping the subject, while Roger sat not so silently in agony. After a few minutes or so, Roger took a deep breath, and turned to me.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap like that." Roger laid his hand on my outer thigh, and flashed me a simple smile. I returned the gesture, but could feel a pang in my gut. I wasn't sure what it was, at least not at first, but I kept quiet, and continued to drive.

Twenty minutes had passed before either of us spoke again. Roger was still keeled over in agony from his bout of nausea, clutching his stomach, and doing Lamaze breathing. I snickered under my breath, imagining Roger pregnant.

"What's so funny?" Roger asked me. I guess he heard me. Oops.

"Oh… nothing." I turned toward the driver's side window and hid a grin.

"O…kay…" Roger continued his breathing in the same manner, and I nearly burst into hysterics.

"What the fuck is so funny?" Roger arched a brow curiously at me. I couldn't hold it in anymore, and blew up laughing.

"WHAT? What the HELL is so god damn funny?" Roger's face twisted a bit, and I immediately stopped laughing.

"Uh… nothing. Sorry." I cast my eyes to the road ahead of me, though I was still laughing on the inside.

Another fifteen minutes slipped by; we were almost there, and I decided to bring up a subject I thought I let die a long time ago, but for some reason it was irking me. That might have been why I was getting that pang in my stomach.

"Hey, Rog," I started swallowing the lump in my throat that seemed to have formed on it's own.

"Yeah…" He was slightly hunched over, breathing harder than before. I guess he really was feeling sick. I decided to pull over to give him a chance to let his stomach settle. "Why are we stopping?"

"Oh, so your stomach can settle." I paused a moment, watching him open the door, and take in the fresh air. It seemed to help almost immediately. "Feel any better?"

Roger nodded, sitting up, and taking in a deep breath, blowing out hard. "Yeah. Thanks for stopping." He closed the passenger door, but rolled his window down.

I, too, took in a deep breath, exhaling rather hard before continuing with what I wanted to say. "Rog… um… do you think about uh… April? You know, like, lately?"

An utter look of surprised plagued his face, and again with the arched brow. "Uh… what do you mean?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. Forget it. It's- it's nothing." I lowered my eyes to… anything. Anything to avoid his stare, and I knew he was staring. "I just… um, you know, was wondering since it was, um, the um…" I had trouble getting the words out of my mouth. They felt like they were sticking to the roof of my mouth like caramel, but it didn't taste as sweet.

Roger look puzzled now. "I don't see what you're getting at." I almost laughed at him, just because he could be so dense sometimes.

I flash a half-smile at him, which doesn't last more than a few seconds, then lower my head, thinking of the right way to put my words. "Well um… it's the um… anniversary of her death and-"

Immediately Roger's face sunk. The vague expression he had on his face in wonder of what the hell I was talking about turned into a sneer. I stopped talking, just waiting for him to--do something. Blow up, scream at me, hit me even. After a few minutes he sighed.

"I forgot about that." His voice was reserved, quiet, and sad. I knew right then he was thinking of her, missing her, loving her silently as he stared out the windshield onto the outstretched highway in front of us. I never could compare to her.

I swallowed another lump that formed in my throat as I choked back tears. I asked him a question; one that never should've come out. One I shouldn't have even been thinking about. "Why did you always love her more than me?"

For a moment, it was as if he hadn't heard me. He just kept his gaze out the window, seemingly content with his thoughts. It wasn't until after a few minutes he turned his head to me, cocking it to the side. "What the FUCK?" His words spit out like fire, and I involuntarily flinched. "What the fuck are you talking about?" Was he honestly so surprised I asked the question, or was he just pissed off?

"Nothing. Never mind. I- I- I- uh… I didn't… it's nothing." I suddenly saw my life flash before my eyes as I thought about Roger suddenly punching me in the face, or worse. I felt my heart jump into my throat. My palms were sweaty, and my gaze quickly turned to the sleeping baby girl in the backseat. Roger must've noticed, because his eyes shot back at her too, and his demeanor changed.

He let out two short, hard breaths then his eyes met mine before I could turn away. "Mark," his voice softer now, calmer. "I love you. Why would you ask me something like that?"

"Well, 'cause… I mean," Hold it together, Mark. Just say what you want to say. "Well, remember when we used to--" I shook my head. "Never mind. It's stupid."

"You wouldn't have brought it up if it was stupid. What is it? Just say it." Roger took my hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "C'mon. Say what you wanna say."

I took a deep breath, exhaling rather slowly. "Okay. Well, remember when we used to be… more than friends? I mean, you know, before you ever started dating April."

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, um… remember when you first met April? You practically dumped me as soon as she agreed to go out with you." I tried to keep it together, not letting myself get upset.

"It wasn't like we were together, Mark. So why does it matter?" Roger snapped his seatbelt back on, and I started the car again.

I drove for a few minutes before continuing. "Well, because…" I wasn't really sure how to continue, and I could tell Roger really didn't want to discuss this. I thought about dropping it, but I really wanted to know. "It matters because-because… 'cause I was already in love with you, and I thought that we were gonna be more."

Roger furrowed his brow. "Mark… I told you back then that we weren't gonna be more than fuck buddies. That was the agreement."

"I know, but… I mean, the way things were going with us, I thought for sure we'd be more. I thought you were feeling the same way I was." My eyes started stinging, and I blink a few tears away, not letting myself break down.

"I thought you understood that we were just friends. Honestly, Mark. C'mon. You remember how I was back then. The only person who even knew what we were doing was Collins. I didn't want anybody else to know what we'd been doing. And you know I was with other girls too."

"Yeah I know, but…"

"But what, Mark?" The tone of his voice rose a bit. "There's no 'but.' Things were different with us then. End of story." He crossed his arms, and turned to face the passenger window.

I wasn't gonna push the issue any further than that, but something inside me was nagging at me, and I just had to know if he cared more about April than me. "No, it's not 'end of story', Rog." I surprised myself when I realized that even the volume of my voice went up. "You left me for her. I mean I know it wasn't going anywhere, but it was just us, and-and I was okay with that. But then she came along, and completely fucked up your life-"

"Why are you doing this?" I couldn't see, but by just the way he asked, I could tell he was choked up.

"'Cause I need to know. Why did you love her more than me?" My hands clenched tightly to the steering wheel, scared of the imminent answer.

"Mark," he started as I glanced over at him, watching him wipe at his eyes furiously, and sit up. "It's not that I loved her more than you… it's that I loved her differently. You know what I mean?"

"No, Rog, I don't. What do you mean?" I had a feeling of what he actually meant, but I wanted to hear it from him.

There was a moment of silence before he finally began. "What I mean is… things are different with us than they ever were with April."

"Why, 'cause she was a girl?"

"Mark, I don't know how you want me to answer that."

"Truthfully. Was it 'cause she was a girl? Please, Roger, I need to know."

Roger sighed hard. "Probably. I don't know. I love you, Mark. What more do you want?"

"Do you still love her?" I could tell that caught him by surprise. It surprised me too. Where was this coming from?

"No." A pause. "Yes." Another pause. "I don't know. I won't deny I still think about her. And yeah, I guess, in a way, I still love her. But, like I said, it's not the same. She was… wild, carefree, and just out there. You, you're… sweet, and wholesome, and… safe."

"I'm wholesome?" I've never heard that one before.

"Yeah. You know… you're a good boy. You don't do stupid shit like I do. You're smarter than that." Roger placed his hand on my knee and squeezed it, giving me a small smile.

I turned on to my parents' street, and decided we could finish this conversation another time. "You know… I'm not always a good boy." That got a little laugh out of Roger.

"Don't I know it…" His smile broadened.

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"Let me see my granddaughter," my mother squealed as we entered the house. "Oh, she's beautiful. She looks just like you, Marky." She gave me a hug, and a quick kiss, and immediately picked up Angelina. She seemed to ignore the fact that Roger was with me.

"Well, actually, she looks a lot more like Maureen…" I don't think she heard me. Or if she did, she chose not to acknowledge me.

"Hi, Mrs. Cohen." Roger said, politely.

My mom looked over at us, and grimaced. "Oh. Hello." Her attention went right back to Angelina.

My dad emerged from his den, and greeted me with what sounded like a hello. My mom yelled at him for not giving me a more proper greeting, and he gave me a half hug, not saying a word to or about Roger. That didn't surprise me one bit.

The entire time we were there both my parents paid more attention to Angelina than Roger and I--which I was very grateful for--but I'm their son, they could've been a bit more cordial about my, well, our presence.

Roger and I decided to cut the visit short, both feeling antsy, and wanting out of there. We tried to say our goodbyes, but my mom wouldn't hear of it, and insisted we stay for dinner. I was taken back by the fact she actually set Roger a place at the table.

"So, Mark… how's the career in film coming?" My dad had said 'career' mockingly.

"Not too bad. It's paying the bills." Which was a flat out lie. One, we didn't have much by way of 'bills', and two, I wasn't exactly making any money off of them.

"Dear, don't pester him. It's his choice remember? Even though we paid for him to go to a good school, and get a degree, he chose film, and we have to respect that." My mom's good at making me feel lower than I already felt. Bitch.

The rest of dinner wasn't any better. It consisted of more questions of the same caliber from my dad, and similar remarks from my mom. Sufficed to say, it didn't go well.

Finally, after dinner, we managed to take Angelina away from my mom, and make our way out the door before she could 'convince' us to stick around.

The drive home was quiet for the most part, except for the occasional complaint from Roger about being carsick. It seemed to go much slower than the drive there. I didn't wanna bring up the April thing again, 'cause I didn't wanna upset Roger before getting home, 'cause that meant going to bed angry.

I never did bring up the April issue again, 'cause since that visit to my mom's, Roger's been spending more time with Angelina, and I wanted to spend what time we did have not fighting. In fact, I made sure not to say anything at all to upset him.