Daddy's Films

By BehindTheLens

Prologue

I used to think that I was the luckiest girl in the world, but I've learned that I'm not. It's not my parents' faults really; it's all because of someone in a red sedan that I've never met and don't care to meet anytime soon. My aunt calls it a "grave case of injustice," which I really don't understand, but I trust her opinion; she is a lawyer. She was actually the one who tried to punish that man (except she says "prosecute,") but it didn't work. He escaped punishment, an act which caused my favorite aunt to start a protest.

That's my Aunt Maureen: if something gets you mad, hold a protest and invite more than half of Tent City to support you. No matter what the subject, Tent City believes in her. I think it's because she fought to get them decent housing.

Normally, my aunt's protests are dissolved by Benny, the mean evil person who attempted to build a studio in place of my parents' old residence. Since no one in my family is extremely close to him, I don't call him "Uncle Benny" or anything. Aunt Maureen would kill me if I did, but according to Uncle Collins, Benny used to help them out when they needed it. He also was the one who donated some furniture to my parents when they found out about me. That's nice and all, but he wasn't there when my Dad needed his AZT.

What's AZT? Well, it's a medication that stops people from dying early … people with AIDS, people like my Uncle Collins, Aunt Mimi, and Dad. My Aunt Angel died before I was born, and I know my lively uncle is getting closer to death. He's had AIDS for almost 17 years and has beat all the odds. As for Aunt Mimi … well, we never see her. She moved away before I was born … something to do with getting away from old memories and bad habits. Dad thinks that was smart of her; she hasn't had her first OI yet, so maybe she can prolong that a bit longer. She has more time than Dad, or so he says. Supposedly, Aunt Mimi was a dancer as well. She sent me a pair of ballet shoes the Christmas I turned three.

Dad had his first OI right after I was born, which is why I lived with Aunt Maureen and Aunt Joanne for a long time. But despite that, he's pretty healthy. Aunt Joanne often says that Dad will probably outlive all the original Bohemians, but then again, she said other things too that didn't occur. Whenever I think of Dad dying, I get scared. Really, he's too young to die. And if he did, who would take me on secret ice-cream trips, and sing me to sleep, and play Musetta's Waltz with me? Yes, I do know how to play Dad's favorite song. I can play it by ear, a fact which makes Dad beam with pride. He teases me and says that I am all "Davis" with my wavy blond hair, leggy height, and natural love for the guitar.

Even so, everyone else says I have a lot of Cohen in me as well. Maybe it's because of my sky blue eyes, or my nose, or the fact that I am incredibly skinny, but Uncle Collins believes I also have the "Cohen spirit": Put others first, be stubborn when you need to be, and by loyal … all characteristics of my Daddy, Mark.

Confused?

I am blessed to have two amazing fathers. Dad's full name is Roger Cohen-Davis, even though he mainly just uses "Roger Davis" for his CD recordings. Before he got committed to Daddy, he never used the name "Cohen," and rather than confuse fans, the recording label just decided to use Dad's original name. It was Dad who actually gave birth to me, despite the doctor's warnings. And miracle of all miracles, I do not have AIDS. I have been tested four times, and four times the tests came back negative.

Daddy's full name is Mark Cohen-Davis. He is … was the most awesome father ever. I think he spoiled me worse than Dad. All I had to do was cuddle up in Daddy's lap and he'd give in to most anything. I always had to work really hard to convince Dad, but if Daddy gave in, he was usually able to get Dad to see his point of view. Daddy would call me "ma jolie fille" or "my pretty girl" in French, while Dad always referred to me as "little Musetta."

Overall, my two fathers are the best people ever. But now, I am no longer the luckiest girl.