Though the story never ends
Let s celebrate
Remember a year in the life of friends
Remember the love
Remember the love
Remember the love
Measure in love
June sixteenth, nineteen ninety-six. One PM, eastern standard time. We zoom in on Vanna Cohen, my heavily pregnant wife. She s currently carrying our first child. Mark Cohen narrated loudly. Say hi, honey. He turned his camera toward the woman with a smile.
The blond woman lifted a hand and gave a little wave. Her other hand absently rubbed at her stomach, a habit she d picked up during the earlier stages of her pregnancy. She and Mark had been told that it soothed the baby and the young couple wanted to do whatever it took to make this as perfect as possible. It didn t ever matter where she was or what she was doing, either. No, she had a hand on that stomach of hers at all times. It wasn t hurting anything, and she honestly felt much more comfortable this way. She smiled into the camera. Hi, honey,
Mark laughed. He sat his camera down on the coffee table, before turning and plopping down beside his wife. An arm slid itself across her shoulders almost automatically, and the other reached for the hand that was on her stomach. He smiled. His voice was a gentle murmur when he finally spoke. ...Less than a month. He ll be here in less than a month. Yeah, that was Mark. Always forcing himself into a conversation that never exactly called for talk about his baby, but one that generally ended in it. He was just excited. That was it. He simply could not await for the arrival of his first child. This was definitely normal. Most fathers were like that, weren t they?
Vanna smiled. She propped herself up and nodded her head. She leaned over to find his cheek with her lips. This was where she placed a light kiss, before sitting back again. Less than a month until we can finally see our little director. He s going to be absolutely perfect. she replied.
Absolutely perfect, Mark repeated. He nodded, still wearing a rather crooked smile. He lifted his hand from her stomach to shove his glasses back up the bridge of her nose. Said hand was quickly replaced upon hers, and he stroked the soft skin on the back of her hand with his thumb. By now, she d shifted her weight and was resting her head on his shoulder. He tightened his arm around her shoulders, as if to tug her closer still. Absolutely perfect, he thought. If anything, this moment was absolutely perfect. Nothing could ruin it.
A knock at their door made Mark jump, which startled Vanna. She d fallen asleep and Mark had been skimming through that morning s paper. An exasperated sigh escaped Mark s pale lips, as he twisted his body around to stare at the door. It s open, he called. He moved to fold the newspaper back up, before tossing it upon the coffee table s wooden surface.
Vanna lifted her head from Mark s shoulder, sniffling. She pulled a hand through her hair and ran it over her face. Mm. What time is it, Marky? she mumbled. When he didn t answer, she sighed. Fine. It took a minute for her eyes to focus, but when they finally did, she turned to the clock. Almost two. Okay. She hadn t slept for very long.
The door to the loft slid open and Mark s former roommate, Roger Davis, walked in. His arm was slung around Mimi, his wife, who was smiling. Hey, Roger called. He untangled himself from Mimi and made his way over to the couch. A hand of his was outstretched.
Mark laughed, reaching for Roger s hand. He took it and pulled himself up, before he dropped the hand and crossed the room to Mimi. Meems. he said. He smiled and kissed her cheek, dragging her into a hug. How re you feeling? he asked.
Mimi smiled. She shrugged her shoulders and spun around for a second. Then, her hands were lifted and in Mark s once more. I feel fine. Really. she replied. She glanced at Vanna, who had pushed herself up and off the couch at this point and was currently waddling over. Mimi let go of Mark s hands and turned her attention to the other woman. Chica, you re absolutely glowing!
Vanna beamed. Her hand still rested upon her stomach. S just a month more. I can t wait. Marky and I are super excited. she replied. Her eyes darted over to Roger, before she moved to take one of Mark s hands. He s taking your room, you know, she told the musician.
The first of the new boho s is gonna live in my room? Roger asked, looking up. He couldn t stop the smile that slid across his lips. He loved the idea of a whole new generation of Bohemians.
...Well, your old room. The one here, in the loft, Mark said. He motioned in the general direction of Roger s room with a hand. But yeah. Your room. He smiled and nodded his head.
Roger grinned. Great, he stated.