Moving in Rhythm (6 page)

Monday morning Mark returned from the gym to find Lisa slumped at the kitchen table, staring red-eyed into her tea. Pete. His heart sank and for a minute he couldn’t speak. Finally he asked, “What’s up?”

Lisa looked up at him, her smile tight. “We were supposed to talk this morning but it looks like there’s an information blackout.”

Mark exhaled. That was definitely not the worst thing he’d imagined. “Do you know why?”

She shrugged. “Maybe an attack. Could be someone in the unit died and they’re trying to find family to notify.” She looked up at him. “Not my favorite scenario. But it might be that some senator is visiting the airfield or a kid posted inappropriate stuff to his Facebook page. It’s the military—they get to cut off communication whenever they want.”

Her bitter tone surprised him and he realized that in the weeks since Pete’s deployment they’d pretty much avoided the topic whenever possible. “Does this happen often?”

Again she shrugged. “Depends. I’ll probably hear from him in the next couple days. But meanwhile, it sucks.”

Mark reached across the table and patted her hand. “Keep me posted, okay?”

She smiled crookedly. “I have to tell you that it’s great, but weird, that you’re here. You look so much like him that sometimes when I come in the kitchen it’s like…” She paused and took a deep breath. “It’s hard because I thought we were done with this. When we lived on base I sort of got used to the military life. No, that’s not true, you never get used to it. But I had all these other wives around me who were going through the same thing.”

Mark reached to pet Belle. “Maybe you should call Claire.”

Lisa’s brow wrinkled. “Claire? Why?”

Mark scrambled. Maybe he wasn’t so good at secrets after all. “Because, well, didn’t you say that some of the women at the party were connected to the military? Maybe Claire could put you in touch with one of them.”

“Yeah, I forgot about that. Good idea.” She looked down at her belly and her eyes teared. “You know, we swore we weren’t going to start a family until he could be home. And when he transitioned to the reserves I somehow thought it would be okay.”

Belle ambled over and laid her head on Lisa’s thigh. Lisa smiled and patted her absently.

Mark stood, unsure what to do. All this human contact was so messy. “Breakfast?”

Lisa sniffed, wiped her eyes, straightened her shoulders and smiled a little stiffly. “That sounds great.”

Brave girl. No wonder Pete fell in love.

Lisa cocked her head. “So how was your date with Claire?”

Mark stifled a groan. “It wasn’t a date. Don’t hold out any hope there, Lisa. It’s not going to happen.”

Lisa sighed. “That’s too bad. She’s such a nice person and I really, we really, want you to be happy.”

Mark closed his eyes. “You aren’t discussing my love life with Pete, are you?”

She blushed. “Of course we talk about you. Although if it helps, Pete’s always telling me we should mind our own business. But it isn’t like he has tons of other family members and everyone on my side is happily hooked up, although my sister’s marriage is pretty rocky so we talk about that too. It’s what family does.”

Mark shook his head. “Well in my case you can stop it. There’s nothing to talk about.”

Lisa smiled. “Mark, honey, there’s always something to talk about.”

* * *

Her first student on Monday arrived promptly at 3:30 p.m., a serious ten-year-old girl with long, straight black hair. She reminded Mark a little of that
Addams Family
kid, the creepy one played by Christina Ricci in the movie. He preferred to be gone by the time she arrived.

Rain beat upon the car roof as Mark and Belle drove downtown. She looked expectantly out the window as they neared the turnoff to the dog park.

“No, girl, we are not going there. You’re getting a rest day whether you want it or not. I’m taking a break from dog cleaning. And none of that,” he added as she gave him her best pleading, abused-puppy look.

He parked in front of the only independent bookstore in Lacland, an unpretentious storefront downtown next to the Rise and Shine Café. “Wait in the car,” he told Belle. “And if you’re good I’ll let you hang your head out the window on the way back.”

The bookstore was lighter inside than he’d expected. Somehow he’d pictured dark aisles of books smelling of mold and dust. Instead, warm light suffused the wide aisles and he could smell strong coffee and cinnamon from the tiny coffee bar on one side of the store. An ancient hippie guy sat in one of the overstuffed chairs, balancing a coffee cup on his knee while he perused a thick tome. The young woman behind the counter smiled a greeting at Mark and went back to her paperwork.

A middle-aged woman scanned the fiction titles. In the children’s section a mom read to her toddler and a couple of girls in school uniforms played on the floor. A bespectacled young man lounged against a bookshelf in the history section.

Mark took a deep breath, glad that at least the bookstore wasn’t crowded. He didn’t need any extra stress. Wandering slowly through the aisles, he wondered where exactly one found the gay section. Was there really such a thing? He blanched at the idea of asking—probably exactly the visceral response Claire wanted out of him.

Finally he found it, in the middle of the “studies” aisle, a slim column of shelves between ethnic studies and Jewish studies clearly marked Gay, Lesbian and Transgendered Studies. He checked his watch. Seemed an easy assignment: ten minutes looking at books. Half the titles included the word “pride.” The other half probably detailed the prejudice. He pulled a book at random and opened to pictures of half-naked men in leather or tutus, women on motorcycles or marching under rainbow banners. Everyone smiling. He glanced up as the woman from the fiction section rounded the corner. His heart rate jumped, he could feel the flush creeping up his face. Sweat trickled down his back. It was hard to breathe.

But as he stood, refusing to let himself shut the book or move away from the section, he experienced something new beneath the palpitations. A righteousness, maybe even defiance. For a fear, and Mark considered himself a connoisseur of social terror, this one had a different texture. Of course, it probably helped that she’d glanced at him once, smiled briefly and began scanning the Jewish books.

Mark put the book away and pulled out another. The cover showed two men kissing. Mesmerizing. He grabbed another, suddenly hungry for more. To hell with three books—he wanted a shelf full. He chose five with “pride” in the title. He knew all he needed to about shame. His heart pounded as he approached the counter, but nothing he couldn’t handle, and that alone was exhilarating.

The clerk smiled at him as she scanned the books. “Find everything you needed?”

“Um, yeah.” He grinned, even as his hand shook passing her the credit card. “Thanks.”

Out in the car he hugged Belle. “I did it.” He riffled in his pocket for his cell and dialed Claire. Her answering machine came on. “Hey, Claire. It was okay. Great, even. I still need to figure this stuff out, so I’m not going to Zumba, but that was a great idea. Thanks.”

He clicked the phone closed, put the car in gear and drove toward home, alternatively patting Belle and his bag of new treasures.

Mark was surprised to see Claire’s car parked outside the house. He grabbed his bag of books and followed Belle up the walk. Light streamed from the kitchen window, through which he could see Claire standing by the stove.

As Mark opened the door, Belle loped over to Claire, her body wagging and tongue lolling in greeting. Mark’s heart fell at the look on Claire’s face. “What’s wrong?” he managed to croak.

“I’m glad you’re home.” Claire stepped forward and hugged Mark briefly. “She’s all right but has some light bleeding, which is not a good thing this late in her pregnancy.”

Panic spiked through Mark. “We should take her to the hospital.”

“Tomorrow. I called her doctor. He’ll see her first thing in the morning but in the meantime I put her to bed.” She waved her hand in the direction of the stove. “I was just making some tea to take in.”

Mark nodded. “I can do that.” He opened the cupboard and pulled down tea mugs. “Any word from Pete yet?”

Claire shook her head. “All’s still quiet on the Eastern front.”

Mark’s hand shook as he reached for the tea bags. “Maybe that’s for the best right now. This could freak him out. Our mother—”

Claire patted his arm. “I know. But Lisa will be fine. I’ve got Grace asleep on the couch and if it’s okay with you, I’ll spend the night here. I’ll keep an eye on her and if need be, we can run her into the emergency room.”

Mark leaned against the counter and closed his eyes. “I wish Pete was here.”

The kettle started to sputter and Claire poured hot water into three mugs. “I’m sure Lisa does too. But we’ll have to do our best to make it up to her.” She nodded toward the bag of books Mark had flung on the counter. “Been shopping?”

He blinked, looked at the bags and tried to smile. “Yeah. Let’s talk about it later, though.”

Claire nodded and handed him two tea mugs. “She’s in the bedroom. I’m sure she’d love to see your familiar face.”

He grunted. “What she’d like to see is the other version of my face, but you’re right. We’ll all have to make do.”

Lisa lay in bed, pillows under both her shoulders and knees. She looked pale and anxious. Mark tried to smile as he held out her teacup. “Hey, you know I was hoping to get out of Zumba class tomorrow, but you didn’t have to go to these extremes.”

She laughed and accepted the tea. “I do what I can. At least I think I’ve managed to get you a date for tonight.”

Mark shook his head. “Lisa…”

She waved at him vaguely. “Yeah, I know. She’s gay. Better luck next time, eh?”

Mark sank into an armchair across from the bed. “You know?”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist, what with all those duel-mommy couples at the party. Still, it would have been nice.”

Mark smiled. “You’re sweet, Lisa.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m not actually. Really, I’m glad to have another army wife around. Last time he was over there we lived on base and I had other women to help out. I’ve missed that.”

“And it doesn’t bother you? That Claire’s a lesbian, I mean?”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Why would that bother me? Claire’s great. Like tonight, when I called to ask her about the spotting, she came over right away. Not many friends will do that for you.”

Claire spoke from the doorway. “See, Mark, we aren’t all piranhas.”

Mark laughed. “Thanks for the tip.”

“Now let Lisa get some rest. I’ll sit with her. You can do whatever it is you do in the evenings. Read?” Claire smiled at him sweetly.

Mark glanced at Lisa, who watched their exchange tiredly. He stood and patted her hand. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do. I’ll be right down the hall.”

* * *

He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about all the complications involved in life with other people. Two months ago it had only been him and Belle, and a hundred or so faceless students who disappeared whenever he turned off the computer. Now he had Lisa to worry about, something like friendship starting with Claire and whatever it was he felt toward Seth. Not to mention the anxiety under it all that came with Pete living half a world away in constant danger. It was all so messy. And yet, the thought of his dark, empty apartment made him sad. Somehow he had to learn to live in the real world, even with the complications.

He’d have to trust that Claire knew what was best for Lisa. There wasn’t anything he could do to protect Pete. He glanced at the stack of books on his bedside table, “pride” sprouting from their spines. Seth deserved better than some sort of exploratory bit on the side, which was what he thought Mark wanted. Mark knew something about how that went. He’d been with men sporting wedding rings. No matter how briefly they’d been together, the other man’s betrayal of his wedding vows had never made Mark feel better about the encounter. The problem was that if he couldn’t talk with Seth, and he wasn’t willing to let Claire talk for him, then Seth could go on confusing him with his brother forever. If only there was another way to communicate.

Mark sat up and woke his computer. In a blank document he typed:

Dear Seth
, Seth,

Mark paused. Now what? He glanced at his stack of books, hoping for inspiration.

Seth, I’m really sorry about the other afternoon.

Wait, was he? He closed his eyes and remembered warm lips, Seth’s firm body pressed against his. Hell, no, he wasn’t sorry. He deleted that.

Seth, I need to let you know some things.

Duh, why else would he be writing a letter? Mark took a deep breath. He might as well get right to it.

Seth, I’m gay.

Mark stared at the word. Gay. It was one thing not to object when Claire asked him if he was gay. It was something else entirely to admit it to someone else, particularly to Seth. Excitement fluttered in Mark’s stomach. Telling Seth he was gay was a sort of invitation. Of course, it wasn’t one Seth was likely to accept once he knew what kind of a wreck Mark was. He started over.

I’m gay. The gay brother, actually. My brother Pete asked me to take care of Lisa while he was away. If you don’t believe me, Google Peter Apostolos (he’s an emergency medicine physician) and Mark Apostolos (I teach mathematics online through the university). There should be pictures of both of us out there. He’s the one who smiles. I would have told you this earlier but I have a condition that makes it hard for me to talk sometimes. Especially around hot men. It’s probably something I should be taking medication for but, well, I’m not.

Yada yada, like he should care. Whiner.

I’m only telling you this so you don’t think I was being weirder than I already was the other day in Claire’s kitchen. I like you a lot. I really like you. You’re a great guy. I’m fucked up. I’m working through my own issues. I like your class but I won’t be at Zumba for a while.

Take care, Mark