CHAPTER ONE
"Uh huh. Yeah, we can do that, or something similar. It may cost more in both money and time, but it will get your point across." Mark said into the phone as he scribbled notes on a yellow legal pad. He could hear Roger picking at the strings on his guitar out in the living room. Play a little, tune a little, play a little tune a little. At this point it had been going on for so long, Mark hardly noticed it. It was like background sound, like an air conditioner running or the hum of a refrigerator. Upon a very seldom occasion he would hear something new. Something the band Roger was in may have just started to practice. But that was rare. It seemed like Roger went to practice, learned what he needed, did what he had to do, played at their jobs and came home. That was it. He didn't write anything anymore. He didn't really even play anything anymore. Just pick a little, tune a little. There was no passion in it like there had once been. Now it was more like just something to do with his hands. Something to fill up the time. Something to just do. At least he was doing something. And even occasionally going out. Even if it was only to practice, band jobs and work.
"Yeah, shooting it that way will give it that grainy effect. In this case it may really work for what you want."
Pick a little, tune a little.
"Well we can do some test shots of that - see how you like it better."
Pick a little, tune a little.
"Uh huh."
Pick a little, tune a little.
He had been hearing it for so many months now he really didn't even hear the guitar. It was the other sound that caught his attention. Barely audible through the closed bedroom door.
There it was again. Knocking. This time louder. Whoever it was was trying to be heard over the guitar. Mark slid the door open. Roger was still sitting on the couch, either oblivious or ignoring the front door.
"Tony, hold on for one second would you?" Mark said as he punched the mute button on the phone. "Roger, get the door."
"What?"
"The door, somebody's been banging on it for like five minutes!"
"And they haven't figured out they should give up and go away yet?"
"Just get the door would you please? I'm right in the middle of this. I finally get someone who wants to pay me to do something and you pick now to be difficult? Just answer it. Please." Half talking to Roger and half to himself as he closed the bedroom door and went back to his call.
Roger set the guitar down on the milk crate coffee table as he got up to answer the still being knocked on door. "What?" He basically yelled as he flung open the door.
For the briefest of moments he felt bad for yelling when he saw the girl at the door. Her right arm in a sling and a cast that ran from her elbow down to the three splints on her last three fingers. You could tell by the way she stood, she was quite uncomfortable and even thought she was in the somewhat darkened hallway, she still had on a baseball cap pulled low on her face almost touching the large sunglasses she was still wearing. But even with them, you could still see the purple, blue and green tints in her skin and the slight swelling that had settled on the one side of her face.
"Well, what do you want?" A little gruffer than he meant, considering the condition she was in, but when she didn't even flinch at him yelling and all, the flicker of concern and empathy died out.
"I'm looking for Mark Cohen." She replied in an overly calm steady voice.
"Well he's busy. What do you want him for?"
"I need to speak to him about a place to stay."
Without bothering to reply Roger walked over to the room Mark had turned into an office for himself, opened the door and said, "It's some girl, here about the apartment."
"Hold on a second Tony while I grab something." Mark said, hitting the mute button. "Well just tell her about it, give her the form and show her the place if she wants to see it."
"Forget it. You made the deal with Benny, you deal with all that crap."
"Fine. Whatever. I'll take care of it. Just let me finish this first. Tell her to sit down and I'll be out in like tem minutes." He closed the door.
Roger walked back over by the couch, looked at the girl in the open doorway and picked up his guitar. Without really looking at her he spoke. "Mark said he'd be done in ten minutes so you might as well sit down."
She shifted her backpack on her good shoulder, picked up the small leather computer case, closed the door behind her and walked over to the large armchair. It didn't match the couch, and had duct tape over the arms. She picked up a section of a newspaper off the chair, dropped her backpack and case on the floor and very slowly and carefully lowered herself into the chair.
Roger had started picking at the guitar again. He wasn't really paying attention, but he thought he saw this pained expression run across her face as she sat down. She started to fan herself with the newspaper. Roger remembered about the air conditioner and walked over to it. It was old and froze up often, but someone had given it to them and it was better than nothing in the end of summer heat.
The AC had thawed out yet again and he turned it on. The light in the kitchen dimmed a little, but that was all. They had all been told they shouldn't have any more problems with the power blowing, but the entire building was still sort of skeptical.
Roger walked back over to the couch and started back up with his guitar. As the cool air started to blow out the girl unbuttoned the long sleeve denim shirt she was wearing over her white tee shirt. With a little work, she slid her good arm out of the long sleeve shirt. She was sitting in the chair in an almost unnatural and overly straight way, fanning herself with the newspaper and letting the cool AC air blow on her.
After a few minutes, she put the shirt the rest of the way back on. She took off her sunglasses and had just started to clean them. Rubbing the tail of her shirt on her glasses to the rhythm of Roger's guitar being picked and then tuned.
Suddenly the door flies open and out comes Mark, caring papers and talking before he even stepped out of the small make shift office. "Sorry, I was right in the middle of a meeting. Okay, the only apartment open right now is on the second floor, two bedrooms and wow!" He said as he looked up and saw her face a she tried to tilt her head down and cover her eye and cheekbone with her good hand and glasses.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, I mean I shouldn't have, um I'm sorry. Let me just keep telling you about the apartment. Two bedrooms, one bath, roommates are okay, no pets, heat and hot water are included, though there never seems to be a whole lot of either, and the rent is $1250. I can show it to you if it sounds like something you are interested in."
She had lowered her hand and was just staring at him for a second. "Well I guess I look worst than I though if you don't even recognize me Marky. I was really hoping to just crash here with you for a little bit till I get all my crap together and all."
" Oh my God Cass is that really you? What happened to you? What are you doing here? Are you okay?"
With that the guitar playing stopped for a moment and Roger looked up and took in the full destruction that had occurred to the one side of this girl's face. Her left eye may have been swelled shut, but it had started to recede some. But the color of it was a hideous purple black. Her cheek bone and jaw was a greenish color by her hair line, but the color got darker and the swelling got larger as you moved toward the center of her face. She had been gently rotating the wrist on her "good" hand, and with this you could see the black bruised band that went all the way around it.
"Oh yes, it's me, in all my grace and glory. I sort of had a little accident while I was working in Italy. As for what I'm doing here, if you mean in New York, I took a cab from the hospital to the airport and booked the first flight I could to America and surprise, surprise it went to New York.
"If you mean here at your place Marky, I'm looking for a shower and a place to crash for a little bit. I wasn't really up for the complete solitude of a hotel room, and seeing as how you are one of my dearest friends in New York, not to mention just about the only one in New York, I thought of you. So how about it, can I stay? Please? I've got jet lag and really haven't slept in the last three days anyway. Plus I've got two cracked and one broken rib, so sitting isn't all that much fun, and I didn't really realize that until I was on the plane headed here so it wasn't exactly the best of flights.
"Of course you can stay. You can go lay down right now if you want. We kinda converted the third bedroom into an office, but you can sleep in my bed for now. Here let me get your bags for you. Is this all your stuff?"
"Sort of. There was no way I could carry anything, so I just shoved it into a locker at JFK. I'll get it later."
"Wow, but are you okay? Really?
"Yeah, I'll be fine. I guess. I mean I guess I could have been killed, so I guess you have to call me 'lucky.' I'll survive. I can't change what already happened, so I guess I have to deal with it."
"Wow. Here, let me help you up. Of course you can stay. For as long as you need. It's only me and Roger here now." Regretting the way he said it as the words left his mouth, Mark's eyes went to the ground, but not before seeing Roger's head turn away and star at the floor as well.
"This being of course Roger, but I'm sure you already knew that. Well, Roger Davis, meet the infamous and most amazing Cass Sullivan. You two finally meet at last! I just with it had been under better circumstances. I've only been talking about you to each other for years now." He got a small grin.
" I would have preferred a different venue for finally meeting the legendary and infamous Roger Davis, but, deal with what you get I guess. But, it is kind of nice to finally meet you. You know, face with a legend, name with a face sort of thing."
"Yeah right. Whatever." Roger mumbled and looked back down to his guitar.
"Oh come on." Mark helped Cass to her feet and grabbing her bags. "Just ignore Roger." He said as he rolled his eyes. "He's not having the best of, well, decades I guess. But here's my room and the bathroom is over there. Take a shower, take a nap, whatever. You look dead on your feet. I'll talk to you later."
"Okay. Thanks Marky. I knew I could count on you. I so desperately need sleep right now. Thanks." She turned to go into the bedroom but stopped and looked back at him. "Oh, um, your not going anywhere or anything are you? I mean your going to be here right?"
"Oh yeah, either me or Roger or both. I don't have any plans except to go and get some food later, and Roger, well, he doesn't have anything scheduled either. So yeah, we'll be here."
"Okay, just checking is all. Thanks Mark. You're the best." She kissed him on the cheek and went to lie down.
Mark watched her close the door before walking back over the living room. "Wow! I can't believe she is actually here! Actually I can't believe how bad she looks. I hope she is actually okay." He said as he flopped into the armchair.
"Yeah, she looked pretty bad I guess. Who is she anyway?"
"What do you mean 'who is she'? You know, Cass. The one that's been writing to me for years now. Like actual letters. Big, swoopy, girly handwriting. You know."
"Oh."
"Okay, well I've got to get some more work done on this thing. What time did they say they were coming to get us for dinner?"
"I don't know. I wasn't listening. I'm not going anyway."
"Yeah right. Okay. Whatever. I'm going back in the other room. Call me when they get here." With that he went back into his office. He could hear Roger start playing with the tuning on the guitar again.
"Mark, I said they're here." Roger yelled as he opened the door.
"Okay, okay. I hear you. Will you stop yelling. You're going to wake Cass up."
"Wake who up?" Collins asked as he, Jason and Jen walked into the loft.
"Okay, you'll at least appreciate this. Remember my friend Cass? The one from LA. Sends me letters and stuff. Well she's here. She showed up this afternoon."
"I guess I don't remember her." Collins said.
"Oh come on. I've told you guys about her a million times. You know. Beautiful. Smart. Really amazing. She speaks like fluent French, Italian, and Spanish. You remember, right?"
"Sorry Mark, I don't remember you mentioning her." Jason said looking to Collins with a shrug.
"Oh come on! Doesn't anyone listen to anything I say ever? I just got a letter from her like six or seven weeks ago. Remember? I said how she was in Italy? On work?"
All three of them just sort of gave him a blank stare.
Mark was getting upset at this point. "Why do I even bother talking at all sometimes! I swear! Okay. I met her at Brown. Okay? You all do remember at one time I did go to Brown right? Okay, so this was before school really started, during the summer session, so it was before I met Collins and Benny. So anyway, I got there in June, right after graduation and took a couple of summer session classes. Well, so did Cass and that's were I met her. And I've been talking to her and writing to her all these years since. And I know I've told you all about her before!"
"What's her name again?" Jason asked.
"It's Cass. She sent me that big thing of chocolate from Switzerland for Hanukah like two years ago. Remember?"
"Oh, really big gold box, with all the liquor filled chocolates?" Collins asked.
"Yes! You should remember those, you ate enough of them!"
"Yeah I remember those, they were great. But I don't remember about her."
"Wonderful. Okay, remember the big case of that super dark German beer? She sent it for my birthday?"
"Oh I had some of the last of that beer with you. It was incredible. I thought you got it here in the city." Jason said.
"Great! Eat my candy, drink my beer. Roger and Collins have even smoked my Cuban cigars she smuggled in the country for me." He said loudly to make sure Roger heard him. "Not to mention my Russian vodka, real Japanese Sake and the expensive French wine she sent me for my parents anniversary, which," he directed in Roger's direction, "I was told went really well with the cheetoes and twinkies and ice cream when someone and half their band decided to smoke like three dime bags and then got the munchies!
"Amazing! Everyone hears me say 'oh look, someone sent me alcohol, chocolate or cigars,' but God forbid you hear anything else I say!"
"Um, yeah, I think I remember you mentioning her now that you remind me about it." Jen added in trying to help.
"Right, sure you do Jen. Nice try. This is unreal!" He was almost yelling at that point. "Okay fine, try this. I know Roger and Collins know this. Jason's even heard this! Remember I told you about how I met this amazing girl during the summer session and had the most amazing sex of my life like every day for almost three solid months!"
With that the guitar playing stopped. Everyone was looking at Mark. Almost staring at him. No one said anything for a moment then Roger broke the silence. "You mean that really actually happened?"
" Yes that actually happened! What did you think, that I made that all up?"
"Well, actually." Jason began to say.
"What he meant was," Collins jumped in, "no we never actually thought you made it all up, just maybe stretched the truth a little about what really happened."
"Yeah, that's right." Jason chimed in. " You know maybe exaggerated a little. I mean we all did when we were like 18 and all."
"I can't believe this! What about you? What did you think?" Mark demanded of Roger.
"Well, yeah I guess I thought you made it up. I mean, okay, I figured you probably had gotten laid and all that summer, but the rest of it was a little hard to believe. I mean come on Mark, I've known you forever and well the whole thing was, well, just not a 'Mark' type of thing. "I mean I know you went to school early so you didn't have to hang with your psycho family in Scaresdale all summer. I figured when I saw you later that fall, after like six months, you figured you needed some really good stories."
This blew Mark away. More than that. He was furious. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"So you mean to tell us," Collins started, "that all of that was completely true?"
"Yes! That's what I've been trying to tell you!"
"So that girl you've been talking about all these years, as the sexual highlight of your life really existed and is the same one sleeping in your bed right now?" Roger asked.
"Yes. She's also the same one I've been writing to for years. And talking to for years. And telling you about for years! But no, all you remember is the sex part and you don't even believe it! I don't know which part I should be more upset about! The fact that you thought I made all that up, or the fact that all these years I've been talking about Cass and no one, especially Roger and Collins, my supposed best friends have never heard a word I've said!"
"Sorry." Roger said with a shrug and then went back to picking the strings on his guitar.
"Yeah, sorry Mark. But if it makes you feel any better, I have a new found respect for you." Jason said, smiling.
"Wait, I guess I'm confused." Jen jumped in. "This was like the greatest romance of your life it's sounding like, but what happened? Why did it only last three months? And why hasn't anyone ever met her before?"
"Well, that's because when the summer session was over, Cass left. She only planned on staying for the one session. She came up there for the summer and left when it was over. That was her plan the whole time and I knew that. And it wasn't exactly a 'romance' thing. I mean we became really great friends and all, but Cass also had this thing about how we weren't dating or anything, just sleeping together because she was leaving soon.
"And as for no one meeting her before, she hasn't been to New York really since. However stupid me believed you all knew who she was."
"So what's she doing here now?" Jen asked.
"I don't know exactly. I mean I knew she was in Italy because she sent me a letter awhile ago telling me she was going there for work. All I know is she was in a car accident in Italy, and when they let her out of the hospital she hopped on a plane to America which ended up in New York. She came here and asked if she could stay for a few days. Said she wasn't up to a hotel room."
The guitar playing not only stopped with Mark's last statement, but it's owner sat it down, got up and walked over to the group of friends. "What are you talking about? She wasn't in any car accident!"
"She said she was in an accident. I guess I just assumed it was a car accident. Why, what did she tell you happened?"
"She didn't tell me anything. I didn't even talk to her. But I know she wasn't in any car accident!" Roger said, almost defensively. "Not unless they started making Italian sports cars that are right handed! And I never saw any car accident leave any bruises all the way around someone's neck, or leave finger imprints on the back of someone's arms.
"And I don't know what she was doing, but it takes an awful lot of pulling against something like a pair of handcuffs or something to get a giant black bruise bracelet that goes all the way around your wrist too." He said holding up one hand and circling it with the fingers of his other hand.
"Not to mention I've had broken ribs and they hurt whether you're standing up, laying down or sitting. Especially sitting and trying to breathe. And you know that way before you go get on a plane. Trust me, no one just wants to sit on a plane for as long as it takes to fly from Italy to New York with broken ribs. Unless they really want to get away from somewhere. Or someone! And I'm betting on someone.
"So no, she wasn't in any car accident. She got the crap beat out of her and probably worse. And what she's doing here is running or hiding. Maybe both." Roger hadn't realized he had gotten so defensive and probably loud till he saw that Mark, Collins, Jason and Jen were all staring at him. Mark's mouth was even hanging open.
Roger wasn't really sure what to do at that moment. This was about the most he had said to anyone in months. He wasn't sure if his friends were reacting to what he said, or the fact that he actually was in their conversation saying anything at all. Not to mention yelling at them about some girl he didn't remember even ever hearing about before. He just stood their for a moment staring aback at them.
The silence was broken by Cass' voice from the doorway to Mark's room "Those were some pretty astute observations for a rude, introverted, recluse in self imposed exile who tries to come off as hating the whole damn world and wanting nothing to do with anyone in it anymore. You better be careful," she glared at Roger, "you don't want to ruin your reputation."
"Whatever." Roger sort of growled as he walked back over to his guitar and the couch.
Mark was still staring at Cass. He thought she had looked bad earlier, and then he had only seen her face and the broken arm and fingers. She stood in the doorway wearing her white tee shirt and a pair of Mark's boxers. She had pushed her long brown hair back into a ponytail, so everyone had a full view of the damage on her face. The white shirt and boxers just made the bruises on her arms and legs stand out even more. Everyone heard Jennifer gasp as she turned and saw her for the first time. Now that he had a full view of so many of her bruises, he wasn't sure what to do. Mark's emotions flew at a million miles a second from wanting to hug her and tell her it would be okay to wanting to hunt down the animal that could have done this to her and do the same to them. "Oh my God Cass. Oh my God. I, I, are you really all right? Do you want to sit down? Oh my god. I think I need to sit down." Mark's mind kept going back to the beautiful girl he knew so many years ago. When they had both been so young. They had spent so much time together. They rarely went to their classes then. There were times when they would spend the entire day in bed in her little studio apartment. He knew every inch of her body then. Her beautiful body. And some animal had done this to her. He couldn't stand it.
"I'll be fine. I told you that. Of course it will be easier when I can look at myself in a mirror and not scare myself half to death. And he's right," she crossed the room, holding her broken right arm up to her cracked and broken ribs, "it does hurt more to sit down. Not to mention breathe."
"Here." Mark said as he literally pushed Jason off the barstool he had come to rest on after seeing the shape Cass was in. "At least lean on this and the counter or something. You just look like your going to pass out or something."
"No I'll be okay." But she did rest up against the barstool and counter.
"My God girlfriend," Jen finally said, "what really happened to you? I mean I'm sorry. You don't even know me and here I am asking horribly personal questions."
"Oh yeah I forgot. Cass Sullivan meet Tom Collins, and Jason and Jennifer Sumner. Jennifer is Jason's sister and actually lives downstairs next to the apartment I thought you had come to see."
"Hey. Nice to finally meet you. I've been hearing about you all for years now. As for what happened, let's just leave it as I had a little accident for now. You know, I tripped, fell and a nice psychopath tired to help me up. Repeatedly. With his fist. And his boots. You know soft Italian shoe leather isn't all that soft when it's made into a hiking boot. And has a foot in it." She Made a motion towards her ribs with that statement.
"Do you need anything? Can we get you anything?" Collins asked.
"Actually I just need some more sleep. And some clothes." She said to Mark. " I needed out of those jeans and these were all I found in your dresser." She pointed at the boxers. "I'll have to get the rest of my stuff from that locker at JFK, but I may wait a day or two if you can help me out clothes wise."
" Oh yeah sweetie, take whatever you want. Everything's in the two garbage bags on the extra bed over there in the corner. I just did our laundry yesterday an haven't unpacked it yet."
"What he means is," Collins interjected, " that he just did their laundry and neither of them has needed to start digging through the bags yet. Unpacking in the sense of taking things out and putting it away will most likely never really happen. But aside from Mark and Rogers's laundry, do you want anything else? Some food? We were supposed to all be going to dinner."
"I'm not exactly up for going out, and besides getting up here the first time with the 3 ½ flights of stairs almost did me in." Grabbing towards her ribs again. "But some food is starting to sound good. I haven't eaten much lately. Just get me something soft. Not a lot of chewing you know. Marky, you think you could run to the store for me too? I need a toothbrush. And some more first aid tape. The two inch wide kind. Also get me like two or three bags of frozen vegetable. They work great as ice packs. Better than real ice. And cigarettes. Marlboro lights."
"Cigarettes? You didn't start smoking again did you? I mean you had quit for so long. And you just ran that marathon and all. How could you start smoking again?"
"Don't start with me Mark. In the course of my lifetime I have given up aside from smoking, coke, red meat, tequila, which wasn't that hard after that one night. Not to mention pot and all other forms of recreational drugs. So don't start with me about a few cigarettes right now. I've had a very shitty past few days!"
"Um, yeah, sorry. I wasn't thinking I guess."
"We'll swing by the store and get all that for you. Right guys?" Jen said to her brother and Collins. "Anything else?"
"Oh yeah, the largest bottle of extra strength Tylenol you can find. Mark will you get my backpack? My wallet's in there."
"Tylenol?" Jason asked. "Didn't they give you any pain killers or anything?"
"Here's you bag Cass." Mark sat it on the counter.
" Oh the doctor wrote me a prescription for some super heavy drugs. You know, the totally knock you on your ass type. But I didn't think that was the best idea you know?" She said looking at Mark. "You know how it is, a promise is a promise. Which by the way is really sucking right now. But I can't go back on that one, so I guess I'll just stick with Tylenol for now. At least I didn't promise on the smoking thing, thank God."
"Cass I think he would understand. I mean it's not like you would be out doing-"
"No." She cut him off. "Let's not even go down that road okay? Besides, Carlton doesn't completely know what kind of shape I'm in at the moment."
"Who's Carlton?" Collins asked.
"Her father."
"Oh."
"Look, you guys go ahead and go to dinner. Can you pick that stuff up and bring back some food? I'm gonna stay here with Cass."
"No Mark, it's okay. Go to dinner. Besides, they don't know what I like and you do. You knew what I ate on every take out menu we had! Here's some money for everything. And get yourself some dinner too."
"Cass, this is like $80."
"That should be plenty, right? Do you want more? Do you need any groceries?"
"More? This is plenty. You better watch your money a little bit."
"Don't worry. Think of it as severance pay from my last job. Go to dinner. I'll be fine. I just want to lay back down. Wake me up though when you get back with the food if I'm asleep. Oh, and get Mr. Happy over there some dinner too." She gestured at Roger. "I've already got a headache, with my luck if you don't feed him regularly, he probably gets grumpier. So go. I'm going to go back to bed. Okay?"
"Yeah, if you say so. Roger will be here anyway if you need anything. Right Roger?"
"Yeah, whatever."
"Okay, thanks." She turned to walk into Mark's room but stopped at the door and turned to Roger still playing with the tuning on his guitar. "Oh, just so you know. What Mark told you about us was completely true. He did get laid almost every day for about three months. And I did have a rule about the fact that we weren't dating, just friends who happened to be sleeping together.
"And you of all people should have believed him no matter what. Putting aside the fact that you're supposed to be his best friend and all, you should still know perfectly well, Mark doesn't lie. Or make things up. Or like most guys, even exaggerate just exactly what he got to do or how far he got. "The fact that you thought he made that all up, and for what, to impress you or something? Is really pathetic." And with that she turned and closed the door to Mark's room behind her.
Roger just sat there for a second, stunned. He jumped up, "That little bitch! I don't believe her!" He started walking around the apartment getting annoyed, mumbling about Cass.
When he walked over to the kitchen still going on about how Cass has some nerve, Collins started to move everyone else out the door for dinner before Mark and Roger could get into anything. As he was going out the door himself, he looked up and realized Roger was actually starting to wash the dishes that had been sitting in the sink for who knew how long.
Collins managed to stifle the laugh he felt, but he couldn't hold back the grin as he closed the door to the loft behind him.
"Uh huh. Yeah, we can do that, or something similar. It may cost more in both money and time, but it will get your point across." Mark said into the phone as he scribbled notes on a yellow legal pad. He could hear Roger picking at the strings on his guitar out in the living room. Play a little, tune a little, play a little tune a little. At this point it had been going on for so long, Mark hardly noticed it. It was like background sound, like an air conditioner running or the hum of a refrigerator. Upon a very seldom occasion he would hear something new. Something the band Roger was in may have just started to practice. But that was rare. It seemed like Roger went to practice, learned what he needed, did what he had to do, played at their jobs and came home. That was it. He didn't write anything anymore. He didn't really even play anything anymore. Just pick a little, tune a little. There was no passion in it like there had once been. Now it was more like just something to do with his hands. Something to fill up the time. Something to just do. At least he was doing something. And even occasionally going out. Even if it was only to practice, band jobs and work.
"Yeah, shooting it that way will give it that grainy effect. In this case it may really work for what you want."
Pick a little, tune a little.
"Well we can do some test shots of that - see how you like it better."
Pick a little, tune a little.
"Uh huh."
Pick a little, tune a little.
He had been hearing it for so many months now he really didn't even hear the guitar. It was the other sound that caught his attention. Barely audible through the closed bedroom door.
There it was again. Knocking. This time louder. Whoever it was was trying to be heard over the guitar. Mark slid the door open. Roger was still sitting on the couch, either oblivious or ignoring the front door.
"Tony, hold on for one second would you?" Mark said as he punched the mute button on the phone. "Roger, get the door."
"What?"
"The door, somebody's been banging on it for like five minutes!"
"And they haven't figured out they should give up and go away yet?"
"Just get the door would you please? I'm right in the middle of this. I finally get someone who wants to pay me to do something and you pick now to be difficult? Just answer it. Please." Half talking to Roger and half to himself as he closed the bedroom door and went back to his call.
Roger set the guitar down on the milk crate coffee table as he got up to answer the still being knocked on door. "What?" He basically yelled as he flung open the door.
For the briefest of moments he felt bad for yelling when he saw the girl at the door. Her right arm in a sling and a cast that ran from her elbow down to the three splints on her last three fingers. You could tell by the way she stood, she was quite uncomfortable and even thought she was in the somewhat darkened hallway, she still had on a baseball cap pulled low on her face almost touching the large sunglasses she was still wearing. But even with them, you could still see the purple, blue and green tints in her skin and the slight swelling that had settled on the one side of her face.
"Well, what do you want?" A little gruffer than he meant, considering the condition she was in, but when she didn't even flinch at him yelling and all, the flicker of concern and empathy died out.
"I'm looking for Mark Cohen." She replied in an overly calm steady voice.
"Well he's busy. What do you want him for?"
"I need to speak to him about a place to stay."
Without bothering to reply Roger walked over to the room Mark had turned into an office for himself, opened the door and said, "It's some girl, here about the apartment."
"Hold on a second Tony while I grab something." Mark said, hitting the mute button. "Well just tell her about it, give her the form and show her the place if she wants to see it."
"Forget it. You made the deal with Benny, you deal with all that crap."
"Fine. Whatever. I'll take care of it. Just let me finish this first. Tell her to sit down and I'll be out in like tem minutes." He closed the door.
Roger walked back over by the couch, looked at the girl in the open doorway and picked up his guitar. Without really looking at her he spoke. "Mark said he'd be done in ten minutes so you might as well sit down."
She shifted her backpack on her good shoulder, picked up the small leather computer case, closed the door behind her and walked over to the large armchair. It didn't match the couch, and had duct tape over the arms. She picked up a section of a newspaper off the chair, dropped her backpack and case on the floor and very slowly and carefully lowered herself into the chair.
Roger had started picking at the guitar again. He wasn't really paying attention, but he thought he saw this pained expression run across her face as she sat down. She started to fan herself with the newspaper. Roger remembered about the air conditioner and walked over to it. It was old and froze up often, but someone had given it to them and it was better than nothing in the end of summer heat.
The AC had thawed out yet again and he turned it on. The light in the kitchen dimmed a little, but that was all. They had all been told they shouldn't have any more problems with the power blowing, but the entire building was still sort of skeptical.
Roger walked back over to the couch and started back up with his guitar. As the cool air started to blow out the girl unbuttoned the long sleeve denim shirt she was wearing over her white tee shirt. With a little work, she slid her good arm out of the long sleeve shirt. She was sitting in the chair in an almost unnatural and overly straight way, fanning herself with the newspaper and letting the cool AC air blow on her.
After a few minutes, she put the shirt the rest of the way back on. She took off her sunglasses and had just started to clean them. Rubbing the tail of her shirt on her glasses to the rhythm of Roger's guitar being picked and then tuned.
Suddenly the door flies open and out comes Mark, caring papers and talking before he even stepped out of the small make shift office. "Sorry, I was right in the middle of a meeting. Okay, the only apartment open right now is on the second floor, two bedrooms and wow!" He said as he looked up and saw her face a she tried to tilt her head down and cover her eye and cheekbone with her good hand and glasses.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, I mean I shouldn't have, um I'm sorry. Let me just keep telling you about the apartment. Two bedrooms, one bath, roommates are okay, no pets, heat and hot water are included, though there never seems to be a whole lot of either, and the rent is $1250. I can show it to you if it sounds like something you are interested in."
She had lowered her hand and was just staring at him for a second. "Well I guess I look worst than I though if you don't even recognize me Marky. I was really hoping to just crash here with you for a little bit till I get all my crap together and all."
" Oh my God Cass is that really you? What happened to you? What are you doing here? Are you okay?"
With that the guitar playing stopped for a moment and Roger looked up and took in the full destruction that had occurred to the one side of this girl's face. Her left eye may have been swelled shut, but it had started to recede some. But the color of it was a hideous purple black. Her cheek bone and jaw was a greenish color by her hair line, but the color got darker and the swelling got larger as you moved toward the center of her face. She had been gently rotating the wrist on her "good" hand, and with this you could see the black bruised band that went all the way around it.
"Oh yes, it's me, in all my grace and glory. I sort of had a little accident while I was working in Italy. As for what I'm doing here, if you mean in New York, I took a cab from the hospital to the airport and booked the first flight I could to America and surprise, surprise it went to New York.
"If you mean here at your place Marky, I'm looking for a shower and a place to crash for a little bit. I wasn't really up for the complete solitude of a hotel room, and seeing as how you are one of my dearest friends in New York, not to mention just about the only one in New York, I thought of you. So how about it, can I stay? Please? I've got jet lag and really haven't slept in the last three days anyway. Plus I've got two cracked and one broken rib, so sitting isn't all that much fun, and I didn't really realize that until I was on the plane headed here so it wasn't exactly the best of flights.
"Of course you can stay. You can go lay down right now if you want. We kinda converted the third bedroom into an office, but you can sleep in my bed for now. Here let me get your bags for you. Is this all your stuff?"
"Sort of. There was no way I could carry anything, so I just shoved it into a locker at JFK. I'll get it later."
"Wow, but are you okay? Really?
"Yeah, I'll be fine. I guess. I mean I guess I could have been killed, so I guess you have to call me 'lucky.' I'll survive. I can't change what already happened, so I guess I have to deal with it."
"Wow. Here, let me help you up. Of course you can stay. For as long as you need. It's only me and Roger here now." Regretting the way he said it as the words left his mouth, Mark's eyes went to the ground, but not before seeing Roger's head turn away and star at the floor as well.
"This being of course Roger, but I'm sure you already knew that. Well, Roger Davis, meet the infamous and most amazing Cass Sullivan. You two finally meet at last! I just with it had been under better circumstances. I've only been talking about you to each other for years now." He got a small grin.
" I would have preferred a different venue for finally meeting the legendary and infamous Roger Davis, but, deal with what you get I guess. But, it is kind of nice to finally meet you. You know, face with a legend, name with a face sort of thing."
"Yeah right. Whatever." Roger mumbled and looked back down to his guitar.
"Oh come on." Mark helped Cass to her feet and grabbing her bags. "Just ignore Roger." He said as he rolled his eyes. "He's not having the best of, well, decades I guess. But here's my room and the bathroom is over there. Take a shower, take a nap, whatever. You look dead on your feet. I'll talk to you later."
"Okay. Thanks Marky. I knew I could count on you. I so desperately need sleep right now. Thanks." She turned to go into the bedroom but stopped and looked back at him. "Oh, um, your not going anywhere or anything are you? I mean your going to be here right?"
"Oh yeah, either me or Roger or both. I don't have any plans except to go and get some food later, and Roger, well, he doesn't have anything scheduled either. So yeah, we'll be here."
"Okay, just checking is all. Thanks Mark. You're the best." She kissed him on the cheek and went to lie down.
Mark watched her close the door before walking back over the living room. "Wow! I can't believe she is actually here! Actually I can't believe how bad she looks. I hope she is actually okay." He said as he flopped into the armchair.
"Yeah, she looked pretty bad I guess. Who is she anyway?"
"What do you mean 'who is she'? You know, Cass. The one that's been writing to me for years now. Like actual letters. Big, swoopy, girly handwriting. You know."
"Oh."
"Okay, well I've got to get some more work done on this thing. What time did they say they were coming to get us for dinner?"
"I don't know. I wasn't listening. I'm not going anyway."
"Yeah right. Okay. Whatever. I'm going back in the other room. Call me when they get here." With that he went back into his office. He could hear Roger start playing with the tuning on the guitar again.
"Mark, I said they're here." Roger yelled as he opened the door.
"Okay, okay. I hear you. Will you stop yelling. You're going to wake Cass up."
"Wake who up?" Collins asked as he, Jason and Jen walked into the loft.
"Okay, you'll at least appreciate this. Remember my friend Cass? The one from LA. Sends me letters and stuff. Well she's here. She showed up this afternoon."
"I guess I don't remember her." Collins said.
"Oh come on. I've told you guys about her a million times. You know. Beautiful. Smart. Really amazing. She speaks like fluent French, Italian, and Spanish. You remember, right?"
"Sorry Mark, I don't remember you mentioning her." Jason said looking to Collins with a shrug.
"Oh come on! Doesn't anyone listen to anything I say ever? I just got a letter from her like six or seven weeks ago. Remember? I said how she was in Italy? On work?"
All three of them just sort of gave him a blank stare.
Mark was getting upset at this point. "Why do I even bother talking at all sometimes! I swear! Okay. I met her at Brown. Okay? You all do remember at one time I did go to Brown right? Okay, so this was before school really started, during the summer session, so it was before I met Collins and Benny. So anyway, I got there in June, right after graduation and took a couple of summer session classes. Well, so did Cass and that's were I met her. And I've been talking to her and writing to her all these years since. And I know I've told you all about her before!"
"What's her name again?" Jason asked.
"It's Cass. She sent me that big thing of chocolate from Switzerland for Hanukah like two years ago. Remember?"
"Oh, really big gold box, with all the liquor filled chocolates?" Collins asked.
"Yes! You should remember those, you ate enough of them!"
"Yeah I remember those, they were great. But I don't remember about her."
"Wonderful. Okay, remember the big case of that super dark German beer? She sent it for my birthday?"
"Oh I had some of the last of that beer with you. It was incredible. I thought you got it here in the city." Jason said.
"Great! Eat my candy, drink my beer. Roger and Collins have even smoked my Cuban cigars she smuggled in the country for me." He said loudly to make sure Roger heard him. "Not to mention my Russian vodka, real Japanese Sake and the expensive French wine she sent me for my parents anniversary, which," he directed in Roger's direction, "I was told went really well with the cheetoes and twinkies and ice cream when someone and half their band decided to smoke like three dime bags and then got the munchies!
"Amazing! Everyone hears me say 'oh look, someone sent me alcohol, chocolate or cigars,' but God forbid you hear anything else I say!"
"Um, yeah, I think I remember you mentioning her now that you remind me about it." Jen added in trying to help.
"Right, sure you do Jen. Nice try. This is unreal!" He was almost yelling at that point. "Okay fine, try this. I know Roger and Collins know this. Jason's even heard this! Remember I told you about how I met this amazing girl during the summer session and had the most amazing sex of my life like every day for almost three solid months!"
With that the guitar playing stopped. Everyone was looking at Mark. Almost staring at him. No one said anything for a moment then Roger broke the silence. "You mean that really actually happened?"
" Yes that actually happened! What did you think, that I made that all up?"
"Well, actually." Jason began to say.
"What he meant was," Collins jumped in, "no we never actually thought you made it all up, just maybe stretched the truth a little about what really happened."
"Yeah, that's right." Jason chimed in. " You know maybe exaggerated a little. I mean we all did when we were like 18 and all."
"I can't believe this! What about you? What did you think?" Mark demanded of Roger.
"Well, yeah I guess I thought you made it up. I mean, okay, I figured you probably had gotten laid and all that summer, but the rest of it was a little hard to believe. I mean come on Mark, I've known you forever and well the whole thing was, well, just not a 'Mark' type of thing. "I mean I know you went to school early so you didn't have to hang with your psycho family in Scaresdale all summer. I figured when I saw you later that fall, after like six months, you figured you needed some really good stories."
This blew Mark away. More than that. He was furious. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"So you mean to tell us," Collins started, "that all of that was completely true?"
"Yes! That's what I've been trying to tell you!"
"So that girl you've been talking about all these years, as the sexual highlight of your life really existed and is the same one sleeping in your bed right now?" Roger asked.
"Yes. She's also the same one I've been writing to for years. And talking to for years. And telling you about for years! But no, all you remember is the sex part and you don't even believe it! I don't know which part I should be more upset about! The fact that you thought I made all that up, or the fact that all these years I've been talking about Cass and no one, especially Roger and Collins, my supposed best friends have never heard a word I've said!"
"Sorry." Roger said with a shrug and then went back to picking the strings on his guitar.
"Yeah, sorry Mark. But if it makes you feel any better, I have a new found respect for you." Jason said, smiling.
"Wait, I guess I'm confused." Jen jumped in. "This was like the greatest romance of your life it's sounding like, but what happened? Why did it only last three months? And why hasn't anyone ever met her before?"
"Well, that's because when the summer session was over, Cass left. She only planned on staying for the one session. She came up there for the summer and left when it was over. That was her plan the whole time and I knew that. And it wasn't exactly a 'romance' thing. I mean we became really great friends and all, but Cass also had this thing about how we weren't dating or anything, just sleeping together because she was leaving soon.
"And as for no one meeting her before, she hasn't been to New York really since. However stupid me believed you all knew who she was."
"So what's she doing here now?" Jen asked.
"I don't know exactly. I mean I knew she was in Italy because she sent me a letter awhile ago telling me she was going there for work. All I know is she was in a car accident in Italy, and when they let her out of the hospital she hopped on a plane to America which ended up in New York. She came here and asked if she could stay for a few days. Said she wasn't up to a hotel room."
The guitar playing not only stopped with Mark's last statement, but it's owner sat it down, got up and walked over to the group of friends. "What are you talking about? She wasn't in any car accident!"
"She said she was in an accident. I guess I just assumed it was a car accident. Why, what did she tell you happened?"
"She didn't tell me anything. I didn't even talk to her. But I know she wasn't in any car accident!" Roger said, almost defensively. "Not unless they started making Italian sports cars that are right handed! And I never saw any car accident leave any bruises all the way around someone's neck, or leave finger imprints on the back of someone's arms.
"And I don't know what she was doing, but it takes an awful lot of pulling against something like a pair of handcuffs or something to get a giant black bruise bracelet that goes all the way around your wrist too." He said holding up one hand and circling it with the fingers of his other hand.
"Not to mention I've had broken ribs and they hurt whether you're standing up, laying down or sitting. Especially sitting and trying to breathe. And you know that way before you go get on a plane. Trust me, no one just wants to sit on a plane for as long as it takes to fly from Italy to New York with broken ribs. Unless they really want to get away from somewhere. Or someone! And I'm betting on someone.
"So no, she wasn't in any car accident. She got the crap beat out of her and probably worse. And what she's doing here is running or hiding. Maybe both." Roger hadn't realized he had gotten so defensive and probably loud till he saw that Mark, Collins, Jason and Jen were all staring at him. Mark's mouth was even hanging open.
Roger wasn't really sure what to do at that moment. This was about the most he had said to anyone in months. He wasn't sure if his friends were reacting to what he said, or the fact that he actually was in their conversation saying anything at all. Not to mention yelling at them about some girl he didn't remember even ever hearing about before. He just stood their for a moment staring aback at them.
The silence was broken by Cass' voice from the doorway to Mark's room "Those were some pretty astute observations for a rude, introverted, recluse in self imposed exile who tries to come off as hating the whole damn world and wanting nothing to do with anyone in it anymore. You better be careful," she glared at Roger, "you don't want to ruin your reputation."
"Whatever." Roger sort of growled as he walked back over to his guitar and the couch.
Mark was still staring at Cass. He thought she had looked bad earlier, and then he had only seen her face and the broken arm and fingers. She stood in the doorway wearing her white tee shirt and a pair of Mark's boxers. She had pushed her long brown hair back into a ponytail, so everyone had a full view of the damage on her face. The white shirt and boxers just made the bruises on her arms and legs stand out even more. Everyone heard Jennifer gasp as she turned and saw her for the first time. Now that he had a full view of so many of her bruises, he wasn't sure what to do. Mark's emotions flew at a million miles a second from wanting to hug her and tell her it would be okay to wanting to hunt down the animal that could have done this to her and do the same to them. "Oh my God Cass. Oh my God. I, I, are you really all right? Do you want to sit down? Oh my god. I think I need to sit down." Mark's mind kept going back to the beautiful girl he knew so many years ago. When they had both been so young. They had spent so much time together. They rarely went to their classes then. There were times when they would spend the entire day in bed in her little studio apartment. He knew every inch of her body then. Her beautiful body. And some animal had done this to her. He couldn't stand it.
"I'll be fine. I told you that. Of course it will be easier when I can look at myself in a mirror and not scare myself half to death. And he's right," she crossed the room, holding her broken right arm up to her cracked and broken ribs, "it does hurt more to sit down. Not to mention breathe."
"Here." Mark said as he literally pushed Jason off the barstool he had come to rest on after seeing the shape Cass was in. "At least lean on this and the counter or something. You just look like your going to pass out or something."
"No I'll be okay." But she did rest up against the barstool and counter.
"My God girlfriend," Jen finally said, "what really happened to you? I mean I'm sorry. You don't even know me and here I am asking horribly personal questions."
"Oh yeah I forgot. Cass Sullivan meet Tom Collins, and Jason and Jennifer Sumner. Jennifer is Jason's sister and actually lives downstairs next to the apartment I thought you had come to see."
"Hey. Nice to finally meet you. I've been hearing about you all for years now. As for what happened, let's just leave it as I had a little accident for now. You know, I tripped, fell and a nice psychopath tired to help me up. Repeatedly. With his fist. And his boots. You know soft Italian shoe leather isn't all that soft when it's made into a hiking boot. And has a foot in it." She Made a motion towards her ribs with that statement.
"Do you need anything? Can we get you anything?" Collins asked.
"Actually I just need some more sleep. And some clothes." She said to Mark. " I needed out of those jeans and these were all I found in your dresser." She pointed at the boxers. "I'll have to get the rest of my stuff from that locker at JFK, but I may wait a day or two if you can help me out clothes wise."
" Oh yeah sweetie, take whatever you want. Everything's in the two garbage bags on the extra bed over there in the corner. I just did our laundry yesterday an haven't unpacked it yet."
"What he means is," Collins interjected, " that he just did their laundry and neither of them has needed to start digging through the bags yet. Unpacking in the sense of taking things out and putting it away will most likely never really happen. But aside from Mark and Rogers's laundry, do you want anything else? Some food? We were supposed to all be going to dinner."
"I'm not exactly up for going out, and besides getting up here the first time with the 3 ½ flights of stairs almost did me in." Grabbing towards her ribs again. "But some food is starting to sound good. I haven't eaten much lately. Just get me something soft. Not a lot of chewing you know. Marky, you think you could run to the store for me too? I need a toothbrush. And some more first aid tape. The two inch wide kind. Also get me like two or three bags of frozen vegetable. They work great as ice packs. Better than real ice. And cigarettes. Marlboro lights."
"Cigarettes? You didn't start smoking again did you? I mean you had quit for so long. And you just ran that marathon and all. How could you start smoking again?"
"Don't start with me Mark. In the course of my lifetime I have given up aside from smoking, coke, red meat, tequila, which wasn't that hard after that one night. Not to mention pot and all other forms of recreational drugs. So don't start with me about a few cigarettes right now. I've had a very shitty past few days!"
"Um, yeah, sorry. I wasn't thinking I guess."
"We'll swing by the store and get all that for you. Right guys?" Jen said to her brother and Collins. "Anything else?"
"Oh yeah, the largest bottle of extra strength Tylenol you can find. Mark will you get my backpack? My wallet's in there."
"Tylenol?" Jason asked. "Didn't they give you any pain killers or anything?"
"Here's you bag Cass." Mark sat it on the counter.
" Oh the doctor wrote me a prescription for some super heavy drugs. You know, the totally knock you on your ass type. But I didn't think that was the best idea you know?" She said looking at Mark. "You know how it is, a promise is a promise. Which by the way is really sucking right now. But I can't go back on that one, so I guess I'll just stick with Tylenol for now. At least I didn't promise on the smoking thing, thank God."
"Cass I think he would understand. I mean it's not like you would be out doing-"
"No." She cut him off. "Let's not even go down that road okay? Besides, Carlton doesn't completely know what kind of shape I'm in at the moment."
"Who's Carlton?" Collins asked.
"Her father."
"Oh."
"Look, you guys go ahead and go to dinner. Can you pick that stuff up and bring back some food? I'm gonna stay here with Cass."
"No Mark, it's okay. Go to dinner. Besides, they don't know what I like and you do. You knew what I ate on every take out menu we had! Here's some money for everything. And get yourself some dinner too."
"Cass, this is like $80."
"That should be plenty, right? Do you want more? Do you need any groceries?"
"More? This is plenty. You better watch your money a little bit."
"Don't worry. Think of it as severance pay from my last job. Go to dinner. I'll be fine. I just want to lay back down. Wake me up though when you get back with the food if I'm asleep. Oh, and get Mr. Happy over there some dinner too." She gestured at Roger. "I've already got a headache, with my luck if you don't feed him regularly, he probably gets grumpier. So go. I'm going to go back to bed. Okay?"
"Yeah, if you say so. Roger will be here anyway if you need anything. Right Roger?"
"Yeah, whatever."
"Okay, thanks." She turned to walk into Mark's room but stopped at the door and turned to Roger still playing with the tuning on his guitar. "Oh, just so you know. What Mark told you about us was completely true. He did get laid almost every day for about three months. And I did have a rule about the fact that we weren't dating, just friends who happened to be sleeping together.
"And you of all people should have believed him no matter what. Putting aside the fact that you're supposed to be his best friend and all, you should still know perfectly well, Mark doesn't lie. Or make things up. Or like most guys, even exaggerate just exactly what he got to do or how far he got. "The fact that you thought he made that all up, and for what, to impress you or something? Is really pathetic." And with that she turned and closed the door to Mark's room behind her.
Roger just sat there for a second, stunned. He jumped up, "That little bitch! I don't believe her!" He started walking around the apartment getting annoyed, mumbling about Cass.
When he walked over to the kitchen still going on about how Cass has some nerve, Collins started to move everyone else out the door for dinner before Mark and Roger could get into anything. As he was going out the door himself, he looked up and realized Roger was actually starting to wash the dishes that had been sitting in the sink for who knew how long.
Collins managed to stifle the laugh he felt, but he couldn't hold back the grin as he closed the door to the loft behind him.