Moving in Rhythm (12 page)

She leaped from the bed and sat staring up at the doorknob until Mark’s hand appeared. Guess she had some excess energy left to burn too.

By the time Mark settled Belle in his room post-run, refilled her water bowl and headed back out, the plodding beginning student had been replaced by a much more graceful musician. At least he didn’t need to feel guilty about that.

Poking his head into the living room, he told Lisa to call his cell if she needed anything. She gave him a tired smile and a nod before returning her attention to the pimply boy beside her.

Mark ducked into the weight room, more crowded in the afternoon than during his usual early-morning routine. The place smelled vaguely of disinfectant and strongly of sweat. The weight machines were all in use. A middle-aged man with a pronounced paunch grunted his way through a circuit, followed impatiently by another, smaller man who looked around guiltily every time he lowered the weight load on a machine. Two young women counted each other’s reps and chattered.

Mark’s agitation began to melt in the familiar environment. He avoided everyone and found a bench by the free weights. He needed a high-rep, low-weight workout, something that took a while, where the burn would creep up on him over time. He wanted to work his muscles until he stopped thinking.

He’d go home, fix Lisa a nice dinner and give her all his attention. This whole thing with Seth, coming out, getting over his anxiety, all that would have to go on hold. It wasn’t fair to Lisa and it wouldn’t be fair to Seth, who didn’t deserve a wacko like Mark. Of course, Mark hadn’t heard from him all day. So it looked like Seth wasn’t interested anyway.

He shook his head. He was acting like a teenage girl, bleating,
Why won’t he call me
? Good thing he was going back to his celibate life. Clearly he wasn’t cut out for human relationships.

“Hey, I thought maybe you’d call.” A figure loomed over him.

Mark squinted. It took a minute to recognize him. “James, right? From the doctor’s office.”

James put one hand on his hip and glared down. “Nice of you to remember.”

Mark’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m sorry. Am I missing something?”

James flopped down beside him. “Nah, I’m just yanking your chain. How’s your sister-in-law?”

Mark went back to his curls. “Seems fine. I guess we go back in tomorrow.”

James shook his head. “Placenta problems are tricky. Although most women survive nowadays.”

Mark stopped moving and stared at him. “Most but not all?”

James blushed. “That came out wrong. I think it’s pretty uncommon for things to go very wrong. But she should take it easy, just in case.”

Mark switched the weight to his left hand and began to pump.

James picked at a piece of lint on his sweats. “Are you, um, seeing anyone?”

Mark considered the question. Was he? He looked at James, an attractive enough man, well groomed, clean shaven. He looked like he was in pretty good shape. So why didn’t he give Mark the stammering willies? For one instant he considered taking James up on his obvious offer. Wouldn’t it be interesting to have sex with someone who didn’t freak him out?

Mark shook his head. “It’s not a good time for me to be involved with anyone right now. I mean, with Lisa and all.”

James raised his eyebrows. “Aren’t you the serious one? I wasn’t exactly proposing a long-term thing.”

Mark smiled. “I’m sure I’d be a happier man if I could take you up on that but….”

James stood. “Yes, you would. And if you ever change your mind, decide to walk on the wild side as it were, you know where to find me.” And with a wave he was gone.

Mark finished his set and walked home to cook Lisa dinner.

* * *

Mark lay on his bed reading, Belle stretched beside him, her flank warm against his thigh. He could hear Lisa in the living room practicing. Haydn?

His phone buzzed. Mark blinked at the screen. Of course it was Seth, who else would it be? His heartbeat quickened. It was crazy how happy the call made him and how much he dreaded answering.

“Hi,” he finally croaked.

“Hi.” Seth’s voice felt like a beam of sunlight. “We’re on break. I only have a few minutes, but I wanted to see if you’re free later.”

Mark closed his eyes. It wasn’t what he wanted to say but it was better for everyone. “Look, Seth. I can’t. This isn’t a good time for me, what with Lisa and all.”

Silence.

Mark stumbled on. “I can’t leave her alone. Pete’s counting on me and I have to—”

Seth interrupted sharply. “I get it. No problem.” He paused, cleared his throat and continued. “You’ll still come to the show on Friday though, right? Obviously Kate won’t be picking up her ticket, so Claire could use some sympathetic companions. And I know Lisa said she wanted to come.”

Mark nodded wildly at the ceiling. “Sure, yeah. We’ll be there.”

“I’ll leave comps at the door.” The tightness in Seth’s voice made him cringe. “I gotta go now.” And he disconnected.

Mark lowered the phone slowly. He’d turned down two men in one day. Feast or famine. Concentrating on Lisa was the right thing to do. He knew it. He reached to stroke Belle’s ruff. So why was he suddenly exhausted?

Mark hit the gym when it opened and avoided the dog park. Seth didn’t call. Mark and Belle ran south every day, taking the same route through a middle-class neighborhood where swing sets dotted yards and every couple blocks they’d swerve to avoid plastic wagons and overturned trikes. On Tuesday he accompanied Lisa to the doctor, where James treated him with cool professionalism. Even Lisa seemed withdrawn as her body took more and more of her attention. Mark provided food and prepared students for the end of semester push, finals, projects, papers, panic. He exercised himself and his dog and plowed through his own prescribed reading list. His life felt ordered, calm, familiar and unexpectedly empty.

Thursday afternoon he came home from a run to find Lisa pacing the living room.

She scowled at him. “Get me out of here. I don’t care where we go but if I spend one more minute in this house I’m going to explode.”

Mark blinked. Graduate school hadn’t prepared him for what to do with the crazy pregnant lady. “Um, you want to go to the beach?”

Lisa nodded frantically. “Yes, yes, anywhere.”

Mark trotted to the laundry room for some fresh towels and escorted Lisa and Belle to the car.

He rolled down the windows. The air smelled like summer, fresh-mowed lawns as they moved through town, pines on the road to the beach. Belle hung her head out the rear window, tongue flapping in the wind. He spotted the gravel turnoff to Lander’s Point south even before Lisa pointed it out.

As soon as they stopped Lisa heaved herself out of the car and arched, her belly a giant balloon. She waddled down the path to the beach, talking over her shoulder to Mark. “I thought I wanted to go for a long walk but now I think I’ll sit down.”

Mark lurched forward and slid a towel under her the instant before she collapsed onto a fallen log.

She smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I thought I had more energy than I do.”

Mark sat and patted her leg. “Don’t worry about it. You’re doing great.”

Lisa leaned against his arm. “I’m glad you’re here.”

They watched the lake in silence. A slight breeze stirred up ripples on the lake but otherwise it was calm. A loon called from across the water.

Lisa jumped slightly. “Oh, he’s moving around today.” She sat up and looked at Mark. “You want to touch?”

Mark stared at her. She smiled and took his hand, settling it gently on her belly. He stared at his hand on the soft cotton of her top. Suddenly a hard lump rippled across her belly. Mark pulled his hand back in surprise.

Lisa laughed. “Uncle Mark, meet your nephew—” she paused and caught Mark’s eye, “—your nephew Marcus Leo Apostopolos.”

Mark stared at Lisa and then at her belly. “Marcus?” he sputtered.

Lisa took his hand and placed it back on her belly. “We thought about naming him Stephan after your dad and Leo after mine, but Pete said you were always his real family. And after these last few months, you’ve been so wonderful and kind that I have to agree.”

Tears stung his eyes. He blinked them back. “Thanks,” he croaked. Something hard punched into his palm.

Lisa grinned. “I think he likes you.”

Mark leaned down and whispered to her belly, “Like me if you want, and I’m proud to share our name, but for God’s sake don’t take after me. Be brave and easygoing, like your dad.”

“What did you say?” Lisa looked at him strangely.

“Just talking to my nephew.” Mark stood and walked to the shoreline, picking up sticks to throw for Belle. Still, he couldn’t help but smile.

* * *

Lisa and Claire arranged everything for Friday. Claire was to come to dinner. Then the three of them would drive to the theater together. Mark was left in charge of dinner and his own anxiety. He dealt with the first by driving with Belle to the natural foods market. She stayed in the car. The store smelled of coffee and cinnamon.

Mark was drawn deeper into the store by the smell of fresh-baked bread. He selected a whole-grain loaf still warm from the oven and wandered to the dairy section, where he loaded the cart with eggs, milk and yogurt, foods he’d read on the internet were good for pregnant women. In the meat section he found free-range chicken, and in produce fresh kale and salad greens. In dried goods, quinoa looked odd and difficult, but a tall, strong-looking woman with a child hanging from each arm assured him it would be good for his very pregnant sister-in-law. At the checkout he grabbed a bag of organic dog biscuits for Belle and dark chocolate for himself.

Handling his anxiety was another matter. His old tricks didn’t seem to do the job. First thing Friday morning he worked his muscles until they burned. With Belle he ran through a chunk of the afternoon, arriving home with barely enough time to shower, dress and start dinner. Even so, he stood under the shower for a long time, trying to ease the tension in his neck and shoulders. Finally he realized that wasn’t where the tension started, so he made himself come into the streaming water, pretending the images in his mind had nothing to do with Seth.

His best shirt and pants had been hanging, clean and crisply ironed, in his closet since Wednesday. His fingers trembled slightly on the buttons. As fear went, it was far from debilitating. His stomach fluttered, he couldn’t concentrate and his heart rate was up. But not pounding. And he wasn’t sweating—well, not much. It would be okay. He’d watch the dance and come home. He wouldn’t even need to talk with Seth. Maybe they could start again when the baby was born and after Mark had straightened himself out.

He smiled. That wasn’t quite the right term.

He would wait until after dinner to put on his coat and tie, which seemed too formal for Pete and Lisa’s kitchen. Besides, he was the cook. He rolled up his sleeves and went in search of an apron.

* * *

Claire looked tired. She tried to smile as he took her coat but it came out lopsided.

He led her toward the kitchen. “Have you heard from Kate yet?”

She nodded. “We spoke this morning. The surgery went well. It looks like she’ll be home by the end of the month.”

“That’s wonderful,” Lisa said, starting to her feet from her station by the kitchen table.

Claire waved her down and bent to hug her. She had tears in her eyes. “You’re right. It’s great. I’m being a wimp tonight and feeling sorry for us both. Don’t humor me.” She patted Lisa’s belly. “And how’s the squirrel?”

Lisa smiled. “Still kicking.”

Claire sat across from her. “That’s a good thing.”

Mark handed Claire a glass of wine. He poured milk into a wineglass and gave it to Lisa.

She sighed. “At least it’s not spinach juice again.”

Claire looked at Mark.

He shrugged. “I read it was good for pregnant women’s digestion.”

Lisa wrinkled her nose. “That is, if it doesn’t make you throw up.”

“Now you’re making me nervous about dinner. Should I have eaten before I came?”

Lisa laughed. “Don’t worry, he’s only interested in torturing me. He’s actually a pretty good cook. He’ll make some woman very happy some day.”

Claire looked at him speculatively. “Is that so?”

“You guys hungry yet?” Mark busied himself with the quinoa, thankful as always for tasks.

* * *

Claire sprinted to the box office to retrieve their tickets. Mark helped Lisa from the car. Then he stared in the backseat at the bouquet he’d bought. He’d insisted Lisa and Claire add their names to the card. Now he had no idea what to do with it. It felt stupid to carry it in and stupider to leave it in the car.

Lisa gave him an exasperated look. “I can’t bend over like that, Mark. You’ll have to get the flowers out yourself.”

“Uh, right.” He held them self-consciously as he walked Lisa toward the steps.

She waddled slowly and he was beginning to think maybe this wasn’t such a good idea when she said, “I can’t tell you how great it feels to be out of the house. Even if I look like a battleship.”

“You look beautiful and radiant,” Claire announced, striding up to them waving tickets. “And we have seats front and center. Close enough to see them sweat.” She grinned at Mark.

He thrust the flowers toward her. “Can you take these?”

Her eyes softened. “Ah, to be young. I’ll trade you.” She handed him two tickets. “You get Lisa to the seats and I’ll make sure these get to Seth.”

He couldn’t meet her eye. “Thanks.”

The theater was in a converted Catholic church. Red plush seats with gold numbers had replaced the pews and a stage had been built over the altar, but stained glass windows still portrayed the Stations of the Cross, dully lit by the last of twilight. Claire was right, Seth had planted them front row center. Mark could see the broom marks on the stage floor. Off to one side of the stage an orchestra tuned up.

Lisa dropped into the middle seat. “Boy, it’s amazing how tired I get just walking.”

Mark looked at her with concern. “Are you all right? Can I get you anything?”

She waved him away. “Stop hovering. I’m fine.” She glanced at her program and then the orchestra. “I’ve heard the conductor is surprisingly good, I mean, given that we’re not exactly a metropolis.”

Claire slid into the aisle seat. She reached across Lisa to touch Mark’s arm. “I couldn’t find Seth so I gave them to the stage manager. She’ll make sure he gets them in time.”

He nodded. Flowers had been a terrible idea. Talk about mixed messages. He really was crazy. Seth would be much better off without him.

The lights dimmed and the orchestra hit their opening notes. Mark leaned back in his seat, resting his head against the plush velvet. An announcer’s voice boomed from the speakers in front of them, reminding everyone to turn off their cell phones and enjoy the performance.

The show started with jazzy pieces and young, in some cases very young, dancers. Mark didn’t entirely understand the point of all the running and jumping across the stage. He sneaked a peek at his program. Seth wouldn’t be on until after the intermission. He felt himself relax into the rhythmic thumping of little feet, accompanied by a bass downbeat. His body reminded him that he’d pushed it to the limit during the day. Settling further into his chair he allowed his eyes to close.

People around him began to stir. Mark’s eyes flew open. Bright light hit him and he blinked. He turned to Claire and Lisa. “Tell me I didn’t snore.”

Lisa smiled. “Only a little. And when you did, I poked you and you stopped.”

Claire leaned forward and whispered. “It’s okay, you didn’t miss anything important.”

“I don’t know,” Lisa added. “I really liked that last piece. Don’t you think the girl in the red was awfully good?”

Claire winked at Mark. “Yes, I did.”

Mark stood. “Do you want anything from the concession stand?”

Lisa groaned. “No. I need to pee. But I don’t think I can do the line.”

Claire took her elbow and helped her up. “I’ll take you backstage. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

Lisa allowed herself to be led up the stage steps and back through the curtains. Mark sat back down, feeling useless and a little foolish.

A young girl dressed in black appeared by his elbow. “Your name Mark?”

He nodded.

“I’m supposed to give you this.” She pressed a piece of paper into his hand, darted back onto the stage and disappeared through the side curtains.

Mark unfolded the paper and read, “
Wake up. I’m on next. P.S. Glad you’re here.
”

He grinned and looked at the stage. It was weird to think of Seth watching him from the wings. But kind of nice too.

When the lights dimmed again Mark sat up straight, determined to stay awake. He needn’t have worried. A cello solo began and a spotlight illuminated Seth, clad in a black unitard, hanging upside down entwined in a long red fabric rope, the bottom of which pooled on stage. Seth extended his arms and began to writhe to the music, holding impossible positions as the cello notes extended. The tempo increased and he twirled his way up the rope, using his legs and arms as fulcrums. He paused at the top then fell down, only to catch himself inches from the stage.

Mark’s heart flip-flopped and the audience gasped, then burst into applause.

Seth turned upside down again and slid his legs up the rope, splitting what had looked like one thick rope into two thin ones. With a kick of his legs he began to twirl.

Mark sat mesmerized. His every movement enthralled with its precision and grace. How could anyone have that much physical control? And how could something so simple, a man and two ropes, be so charged with beauty? With passion?

The cello held one last, long note while Seth twirled gracefully to earth, his feet making barely a whisper as they hit the stage. The audience erupted into cheers and applause. Seth’s gaze found Mark as he bowed. Mark wanted to stand, to shout, to run onstage and take him in his arms. He pounded his hands together instead.

Seth trotted offstage and music for the next dance cued up. Mark felt a touch on his arm and turned to Lisa. Her face looked ghostly in the light from the stage. She clutched her abdomen with one hand, digging her fingernails into his arm with the other.

“Claire,” he whispered. “Something’s wrong.”

Claire glanced at him and then at Lisa. She leaned over him and whispered in Lisa’s ear. Lisa nodded. Mark could see tears starting in her eyes. Children were tumbling out onto the stage for another big number.

“We have to get her out of here,” Claire whispered.

Mark nodded. He enfolded Lisa in his arms and stood, carrying her swiftly up the center aisle. Whispering crescendoed around them and he could hear Claire murmuring reassurances behind him. He certainly hoped she was right and that Lisa would be fine.

Outside Claire said, “We could call an ambulance but it’ll be faster if we drive.”

Mark nodded and walked quickly toward his car. Lisa clung to him and buried her head against his shoulder, her breathing shallow.

He paused by the car door and looked at Claire. “Can you get my keys and open the doors? They’re in my pocket. And maybe you should climb in the back so you can hold her steady.”

Claire nodded and fished his keys from the pocket of the hip he thrust toward her. Within minutes they were on their way. She pulled out her cell, dialed the hospital and began speaking like the calm professional she was. When she hung up he could hear her quietly reassuring Lisa.