Disclaimer: RENT is Jonathan Larson's.

I don't know when she lit the candle. I want to say it was Roger who lit it, but somehow the idea of Roger and the idea of fire fit together like two pieces in a puzzle. There was a candle, and the four of us sitting around the table.

Ariel only had two nice wine glasses. In the interest of fairness, we decided no one could have a nice wine glass. Roger had a juice glass, I had a mug, and Ariel drank her wine from an uncapped sippy cup.

"You still use sippy cups?" Roger asked Ariel, meaning Harper.

"Use? No. Have? Yes."

Harper himself drank chocolate milk from the Birthday Cup, a plastic goblet with equally plastic "gems" glued to it.

Even now, less than a minute after the apartment door closed, I can't remember what was said. I remember laughter, and smiles, and I remember Ariel touching me a lot. She likes to touch when she's drunk, when she likes someone—I had forgotten. She likes to shove and ruffle hair and stroke hands.

Turns out my nineteen-year-old undergrad "special friend", now my twenty-seven-year-old not-ex wife, hasn't changed much.

We didn't even realize how much time had passed until Harper fell asleep in his chair. "Okay." I stood and lifted him into my arms. Harper stirred and murmured. "Let's get you to bed, baby."

"I 'on't wanna," he replied automatically. He wrapped his arms around my neck and held on tight.

He had woken more when we reached the bedroom. At least, he had woken enough to say, "Daddy?" in that tone I knew meant he wanted something.

I set his little body down on the bed, and he released his grip on my neck. "What's up, Harper?"

I pulled the blankets up to his shoulders. Harper wriggled and settled under the heaviness of the cloth. His eyes were drifting shut again.

"Next week my class is having Careers Day," he told me. "A bunch of parents are coming in and talking about what they do at work. Will you come talk to my class?"

I bit my lip, thinking about that. On the one hand, I wanted to go into Harper's school and let him show me off and be proud of me. On the other hand ("You mean the one with different fingers?" I always asked when Mark or Roger used that expression), Ariel put in the hours raising Harper. "Why don't you ask your mom?" I suggested.

Harper frowned. "Mom came in last year, and she did a unit on sign language in class last semester. She said it's okay if you come in for Careers Day."

I nodded. "I'll be there."

"It's on Thursday."

"Okay."

"Don't forget!"

"I won't," I promised. I kissed his forehead. "Go to sleep."

I had my fingers on the light switch when Harper yelped. "Daddy!" he whimpered. "You have to put on my other light."

I asked him, "Which other light?"

Harper pointed. I turned on a little nightlight before turning off the main light.

Roger and Ariel had cleared the table, and he had his jacket on. We said our goodbyes; Roger went to the bathroom, I think to give me and Ariel time alone. "You coming to Career Day?" she asked me, straight off.

I nodded.

Ariel said, "Listen, you have to be there first thing. Maybe you could walk Harper to school that day?"

"Yeah." I smiled. I liked that idea. I could walk him in to school, act like a normal parent. "If it's okay with you, I wouldn't mind being around here a little more often."

She smiled. "That's okay. You know, Harper's school lets out at three but I can't pick him up until five-thirty so he goes to an after-school program. If you want to pick him up a couple days a week, that'd be okay."

It was the best I'd felt in a long time.

Ariel hugged us both and said goodbye, and it genuinely hurt when she shut the door even though it wasn't rude. And now here we are in the elevator. I'm barely thinking of Roger. I'm thinking about Careers Day and how I can be free from three to five-thirty every day, how maybe it wouldn't hurt to settle down a little.

A snuffle and a sigh draw my attention to the present. Roger rests his head on my shoulder.

I laugh. "People are gonna think we're dating."

"Okay," Roger murmurs, and I laugh again.

"So," I say, "what's this about Mark?"

Roger shrugs. "Gotta move on," he says. I guess he's over Mimi. I guess he doesn't think about her death all the time anymore, the same way I don't spend my every moment thinking—this time last year, Angel and I. "Harper's a sweet kid."

"I know," I say. I wish I really did, but…

"Why didn't you tell us?"

I shake my head. Because I was afraid of how you would see me, afraid of how they would see you, because I wasn't ready to be responsible. It was part of the deal. When Ariel came into my classroom that day, at first I was thrilled by a visit from my girlfriend. She had been crying, but she was calm then. She told me she was pregnant, and that she wanted to keep the baby.

You won't have to do anything. I'll raise him.

Him?

It doesn't feel like a daughter…

"I dunno, man."

Roger nods. "Okay," he says.

Something in the way he says it seems universally applicable.

Okay.

THE END!

...I finished it!! Yay!

Review? Please?