Moving in Rhythm (4 page)

Lisa smiled. “This is okay but next time I’ll bring a CD, teach you something about music.”

She directed him out of town on a road that skirted the lake. Light glistened off the crests of waves. Mark opened the backseat window so Belle could stick her nose into the wind and inhale the scent of fresh water and pine.

Lisa pointed toward to a dirt road a few feet short of the sign for Lander’s Point. “This will take us to Lander’s Point south. The north beach has a better road and fancier facilities but this part is less crowded, better for dogs.”

They bumped along the rutted road to the clearing. Only one other car, an old pickup, sat parked near a jagged opening in the bush where a dirt path led to the water.

Mark pulled onto the grass and stepped out. The air smelled of pine and dust. He could hear splashing and the slap of waves. Grabbing the towels, he let Belle out of the car. Lisa led the way to a pebbled postage stamp beach.

A young couple sat on a boulder, watching two black labs chase each other through the shallows.

“They okay with other dogs?” Mark called to the couple, who nodded.

He unhooked Belle’s leash and she tore off toward the dogs and the lake. Lisa found a log to sit on. Mark followed. He looked around. A breeze kicked up white caps. Across the lake he could see downtown Lacland with its low-slung buildings. A few boats peppered the lake but the cool spring wind kept most people at home. “This is nice. Thanks for bringing us here.”

Lisa patted his arm. “You’re the one who deserves thanks, packing up and moving here to take care of me.”

He picked up a pebble and rolled it between his fingers. “It’s not a big deal.”

She smiled. “Yes, it is.”

They watched the dogs play in the lake.

Lisa picked at the hem of her tee shirt. “My family is out in LA. I’m not close to any of them. My dad’s sweet but my mom…we don’t get along. If you hadn’t come Pete would probably have insisted I go there and that would have been—” she shuddered, “—awful.”

Mark hesitated then put an arm around her shoulder. “I’m glad I could be here.”

Belle broke away from the labs and sprinted toward them. Mark picked up a stick and hurled it into the lake. She leaped after it.

“She’s going to shake all over us eventually, isn’t she?” Lisa asked.

“Yep.” He stood and walked toward the lake, gathering sticks as he went. “I’ll keep her entertained until we’re ready to go. That way at least she won’t be splattering us with mud.”

“Doesn’t really matter.” Lisa held up a towel. “These will work on us as well as they will on her.”

Mark grinned. Maybe this whole human-interaction thing wasn’t so bad after all.

* * *

Mark surveyed the sparsely populated weight room. He had an hour to kill while Lisa contorted herself in prenatal yoga. He ran his fingers across the rack of hand weights. It wasn’t that he needed to work out—he’d pressed all the weight he intended before breakfast. But simply being there calmed him. He loved the humid air and the closed-in smell of sweat and disinfectant. Cardio rooms were social places where people chatted and watched television, but the weight room was always dominated by serious men wrapped in contemplation of their limitations, determined to push beyond.

He turned to the full-length mirror spanning one wall and considered his image. Five foot eight if he stood up straight, dark hair, dark eyes and swarthy skin, he looked as Greek as his father, his brother and all his uncles, the male Apostolos genes so dominant they’d drowned out the Americanizing influence of wives and mothers since his great-grandfather landed in Chicago. He flexed a bicep and nodded with approval. It was bulky but not grotesque, a fine line to hold for an obsessive weight lifter. An image of Seth’s long, lean arms flashed through his mind. No question about it, the man was beautiful.

Mark grimaced at his reflection. He’d promised Seth he’d go to Zumba again. But it was bad enough to be too emotionally crippled to speak. He hated the idea of adding stumbling over his feet to his list of humiliating events. Maybe if he practiced.

What had Seth called that complicated crossover step? A jazz square? Mark shuffled forward with his right foot, stopped, moved his left, stopped again, crossed one leg over. In the mirror he looked awkward. He snapped his fingers, trying to set a pace as he fumbled through the steps. Front, cross, back, back, front, cross, back, back. It wasn’t that complicated, so why didn’t his feet respond correctly?

He looked up to see two women whispering together as they watched him. Mark straightened and turned away from the mirror, trying to ignore the flush of embarrassment.

“Don’t stop, you looked good.” The blond smiled at him while her darker companion giggled behind her palm.

Mark shook his head and walked to the cardio room, where he quickly snagged an empty bike and began furiously pedaling to nowhere. He trained his eyes on the television, determined to avoid human contact until Lisa appeared. He would stay until Pete came home. After that he would be free to crawl back to his cave and live out the rest of his days alone and in peace.

* * *

“Oh, Mark, get over yourself.” Lisa gave him an exasperated look over her mug of tea. “No one will be looking at you. We’re all too busy salivating over Seth.”

Mark sputtered into his coffee cup. “Really?”

She reached over and mopped up his spill with her napkin. “Of course. The other Zumba teacher—a woman, the one I used to go to—gets half as many students as Seth. He’s a real dancer, you know. Modern, I think.”

“But…” Mark wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence.

Fortunately Lisa did it for him. “Oh, we all know he’s gay. But that doesn’t mean we can’t look.” She balled her napkin and tossed it toward the counter.

Mark stared out the window at the spatter of rain, digesting all parts of that sentence. First, Seth was gay. Not particular news in and of itself. He’d known, hoped, dreamed that. It was interesting that Lisa knew and it didn’t seem to bother her. Mark tucked that thought away to ponder in the future. But the part that got his real attention was the idea that all those women allowed themselves to watch Seth, to want him from a distance.

He smiled. Maybe it would be okay, an innocent pleasure perhaps, to watch Seth during class when he wasn’t looking. Of course, women didn’t show their
interest
as obviously as men, but it wasn’t like he was fifteen. He was a grown man who could control himself. And he could wear really loose pants. His body’s response to the thought of watching Seth do that body pump thing didn’t inspire confidence.

But it was clear he wasn’t going to be able to get out of class without a better explanation than he could think of at the moment. Lisa wanted him to go with her, probably with the misguided thought of getting him together with Claire. Pete would want him there to make sure nothing bad happened to Lisa. And Seth wanted him there too. He’d said so. Of course, Seth thought Mark was straight enough to be spawning a baby, so he wouldn’t be thinking of him like that. Probably simply happy to have another guy in a roomful of women. Still, the idea that Seth wanted to see him in class was a surprisingly pleasant thought.

“Okay, I’ll go,” Mark growled, taking his cup to the sink. Math equations. When he was a kid he’d controlled those unwelcome locker room “events” by doing complicated equations in his head, forming his future career as a celibate math professor.

“Those sweats are huge on you.” Lisa exclaimed when she saw him. “They look pretty thick too. Won’t you roast?”

He shook his head, trying not to blush. “I’ll be fine. These are comfortable.”

* * *

The room was as crowded as the last time. They ducked in as the music was starting and Claire waved them to a spot near the back. Everyone was bouncing, first on one foot, then the other, and clapping their hands above their heads. Mark watched Claire’s feet until he got the rhythm then looked up to see Seth smiling at him. It startled him into smiling back. Then Seth called for a turn and a hip roll and Mark started differentiating polynomials in his head.

Eventually he found that if he concentrated on the music and the math he could sneak enough glances at Seth to keep himself sort of in tune with the class without either panicking or embarrassing himself. Sweat trickled down his back and soaked through his shirt but it wasn’t from fear. Halfway through the class he actually started to enjoy himself so much that he forgot his terror, clapped his hands above his head, executed a relatively smooth crossover step and grinned at Seth.

Seth blinked. “Left foot, oops, I mean right.” He quickly switched feet. “Forgot where I was.”

Mark’s breath caught. Was it possible Seth lost his place because of Mark? Probably he was imagining it. Seth wouldn’t be interested—how could he be? Mark tried to get back into the rhythm, his eyes glued to Seth’s feet. When he looked up Seth was watching him again. Mark’s body responded to the caress of Seth’s eyes with a surge of desire that left him breathless.

Panic flooded Mark. He had to get out of there, now. Croaking something in Lisa’s ear about being right back, he dived through the door.

Outside the aerobics room, he sank into a squat, leaning against the wall, ignoring the few people working out on the machines. Later he could focus on the humiliation of having them watch him disintegrate and pray that no one noticed his slowly deflating erection. At the moment he needed to concentrate on breathing. He probably should have filled the prescription his doctor gave him for the panic attacks, but really what he needed to do was what Lisa had suggested. He needed to get over himself. And he needed to stop imagining things.

Mark sank onto the floor, his head in his hands. God, he was a mess. Now all he had to do to fall apart was imagine that some guy responded to him, that some guy found him even remotely attractive. He shook himself. That jolt of excitement that had arced between them had to be nothing but his own overactive, horny, stubbornly noncelibate imagination. After all, Seth still thought of Mark as straight.

“Are you okay?” It was the young girl from reception. She held out a glass of water.

“Uh, yeah. Got too hot, I guess.” He gave her what he hoped looked like a healthy, confident, manly smile. “Don’t worry. I’m fine.”

“Okay.” She turned on her heels and walked back toward the front. The nice thing about the young was they took you at your word.

Mark sipped the water. He felt calm but drained and still shaky. He contemplated going back in but the idea seemed more than he could take. On the other hand, he couldn’t make Lisa walk home alone. He ran a hand through his hair. This was ridiculous. Was he a man or a mouse?

With a deep breath, he stood and made himself rejoin the class. To Lisa’s inquiring look he gave a little shrug and tried to pick up the dance steps. For the rest of class he looked everywhere but the front. Let the ladies watch Seth all they wanted. For Mark it was an impossible dream.

Claire was due at seven on Friday. Since Lisa’s last student finished at 6:30, Mark had agreed to make his one specialty, eggplant moussaka modified from his grandmother’s recipe. The rich smell of browned lamb filled the kitchen and as much as he dreaded the fallout from Lisa’s matchmaking efforts, he resolved to enjoy himself as much as possible.

Lisa was still in the shower when the doorbell rang. Mark answered to find Claire holding a bottle of sparkling grape juice in one hand and the small hand of a toddler in the other. “Sorry. My babysitter has the flu so I’m really hoping you have a television.” She held up a stack of DVDs.

The girl pointed to Belle, who sat by Mark’s feet, her tongue lolling to one side in greeting. “Puppy.” She shrank behind Claire as Belle leaned forward, probably hoping to lick sticky, gooey kid fingers.

“Lay down, Belle,” Mark commanded. Belle lay down obediently and Mark squatted beside her. “If you’re really gentle you can pat her,” he told the child, who looked up at Claire for permission, then stepped forward and touched Belle gently on the head. Mark stroked Belle’s ruff. “She likes to be petted like this. Can you do that?”

The girl moved her hand along Belle’s fur. She leaned down and whispered something in Belle’s ear. The dog’s tail thumped against the carpet.

Mark smiled up at Claire. “Good kid.”

Claire grinned. “Good dog. This is Grace, by the way.”

“Welcome, Grace. Belle and I will show you to the television.” Mark took the sparkling juice from Claire and led the way into the living room. He opened the entertainment cabinet and turned everything on.

Claire picked up Grace and plopped her onto the couch. She handed him a DVD. “
Nemo
to start and we’ll go from there.”

Belle leaped onto the couch beside Grace and curled up beside her, her muzzle on Grace’s fat little thigh.

Claire laughed. “I think you’ve lost your dog.”

Mark gave Belle a quick pat. “Stay here, girl. Look after little Grace.” He glanced up at Claire. “I have no idea if she understands but it’s worth a try.”

Claire was looking at Lisa’s baby grand. “That’s some piano.”

Mark nodded. “She teaches. Maybe we can get her to play after dinner. She’s good.”

Claire moved to the bookcase and perused the photo display. She smiled at Lisa and Pete’s wedding photo then picked up the picture of Pete and Mark grinning from a long-ago fishing trip. “Are you a twin?”

Mark shook his head. “I’m eighteen months older.”

Claire looked from the graduation photo to the wedding picture and back to Mark. “You guys really look alike. I can’t tell which is you.”

Mark shook his head. “Get to know us a little better and it becomes obvious. Just ask Lisa.” He pointed to the brother on the left in the fishing photo. “That’s me. The other one is Pete, Lisa’s husband.”

Claire stared at him. “I thought you were Lisa’s husband.”

Mark took another photo from the mantle, the one showing a grinning Captain Pete Apostolos in uniform. “He’s in Afghanistan. I’m here taking care of Lisa until he gets back.”

Claire touched the picture. “Where is he?”

“Kandahar Airfield.” Mark replaced the photo.

Claire smiled. “My partner is in Kabul. Maybe they’ll meet sometime.”

Mark shoved his hands in his pockets. “I hope not. Pete’s a doctor.”

Claire blanched. “Ah.” Claire glanced at Grace, who seemed absorbed in the video.

“What branch is your partner in?” Mark led her toward the kitchen.

She followed. “Air Force. She’s due to come home next month but who knows? Her stay has been extended before. She’s one of the few officers fluent in Arabic so they like to keep her over there.”

Mark paused, processing the information that Claire’s partner was another woman. He gestured to the open kitchen door.

Claire cleared her throat. “Look. I shouldn’t have said anything. Kate hates it when I out her to military people. She was raised conservatively. Her folks are fundamentalist Christians, and she enlisted during ‘don’t ask, don’t tell.’ Even though it’s been repealed, she’s still not comfortable having people know. Me—” she shrugged, “—I’m no good with secrets. One of our little differences.” She played with the hem of her top.

Mark leaned against the counter. “I’m great with secrets so don’t worry about it. But perhaps I should warn you that my sister-in-law thinks we should date.”

Claire laughed explosively. “You and I?”

Mark nodded. “She’s concerned about my love life.”

Claire cocked her head and studied him. “Should she be?”

Lisa burst into the kitchen. “Claire, I’m so sorry I was so slow getting ready. Have you been here long?”

Claire stepped forward to hug Lisa. “Only a few minutes. Mark’s been entertaining me.”

Lisa’s grin widened. “I’m glad. Is that your daughter in the living room? Grace, is it?”

Claire gave an apologetic shrug. “I know you didn’t invite her, but it was either bring her or cancel. And I thought,” she said, gesturing toward Lisa’s belly, “maybe you’re okay with kids?”

Lisa giggled. “Of course.”

Mark gestured to the refrigerator. “What can I get you? We have wine, beer, juice, tea, water and, of course, your sparkling juice. What sounds good?”

“I’d love a glass of wine if it isn’t going to bother Lisa.”

“Please do. I never was much of a drinker anyway.” Lisa picked up the sparkling grape juice. “This looks wonderful, though.”

Mark produced three wineglasses and poured wine for himself and Claire and juice for Lisa. He held his up and said, “Here’s to safe returns.”

Lisa smiled at him. “That’s very sweet, Mark. Safe returns.” She turned to Claire. “My husband is in Afghanistan.”

Claire lifted her glass. “Yes, I know. Mark told me.” She smiled at him. “Here’s to safe returns.”

Grace sat on Claire’s lap for the first few minutes of dinner. She sampled the moussaka, ate a bite of lettuce and munched her way through a variety of food items her mother produced from an overstuffed handbag. Belle sat patiently beneath her, inhaling any dropped bits and crumbs before they hit the floor. Very shortly they were both released to the living room with a cartoon and a bowl of dry Cheerios to share.

“I’m having a small gathering for Grace’s birthday tomorrow night,” Claire said as the adults settled in with tea. “Just a few friends, a couple of old clients and some kids. Would the two of you like to come?”

“That would be wonderful,” Lisa gushed, giving Mark a significant look.

Mark contemplated Claire over his teacup, uncertain how much of her private life she wanted to share. “Thank you for the invitation. Are you sure we wouldn’t be a burden?”

Claire looked at him for a long minute. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Thank you for asking.”

Lisa glanced from one to the other, her brows knit quizzically.

“So how did you decide you wanted to be a midwife?” Mark asked Claire and the conversation veered onto safer paths.

* * *

“What was that all about?” Lisa asked, closing the door behind Claire and Grace.

“What was
what
all about?” Mark rinsed dishes and began filling the dishwasher.

“That whole ‘would we be a burden’ moment? Don’t you like her?” Lisa gathered napkins and tossed them down the laundry chute.

“Claire’s great. I didn’t want to pressure her into taking us into her personal life, that’s all.”

Lisa stood looking at him with her hands on her hips. “So, are you going to ask her out or what?”

Mark turned and smiled. “Would it make you happy if I took Claire to coffee?”

Lisa grinned. “Yes. It would make me very happy.”

He nodded. “Okay, then, I will.”

* * *

Several cars lined the street, so Mark parked almost a block from the restored Victorian. Music and laughter cascaded out as he and Lisa came up the walk. As they neared the stairs a gaggle of three-year-olds tumbled onto the porch.

Mark’s anxiety rose. How did he get himself talked into a party of all things? “That’ll be you soon,” he said to Lisa, gesturing toward the cluster of moms laughing with each other as they followed the children.

She smiled a little dreamily. “I know.”

Claire broke off from the pack of moms and welcomed Lisa and Mark. She accepted the gift Lisa proffered. “I’m so glad you could come. Let me introduce you around.” She took Lisa’s arm and steered her toward the other moms. “There are some women I’d like you to meet.” She smiled at Mark. “This is girl talk, Mark. Why don’t you go on through to the kitchen? Seth’s in there getting the cake ready and he could use some help.”

Mark’s mouth suddenly went dry. He could feel himself starting to blush.

Claire broke into a wide grin and led Lisa away.

He looked out at the street. Wasn’t there somewhere else he needed to be? His heart pounded. He looked over at the cluster of mothers to see a couple of them staring his way. Christ. He ran away from their gaze, up the stairs and into the house.

The foyer was dark after the bright spring afternoon sun. Mark stood for a moment, letting his eyes adjust. The house smelled of freshly baked cake and ancient wood. Music played softly, an artsy-sounding female vocalist. To his right the foyer opened onto a comfortable living room decorated with balloons and colored streamers. Directly ahead the hallway led to an open door. The room beyond was sunlit. Weren’t kitchens in old houses always at the back? Mark tried to make himself move—forward, backward, sideways, any direction would do. Instead he stood staring dumbly toward the lighted doorway, heart pounding, slightly nauseated. On top of panicked and sweaty, he felt ridiculous.

What would a sane man do in this situation? What would Pete do? But this would never happen to Pete. Whatever bits of their shared DNA coded for confidence worked in Pete and malfunctioned in Mark. He willed himself to think like his brother. It was only a hallway. Seth was only another guy. It would all be okay.

“Hey, Mark.” Seth stood outlined in the doorway. Mark couldn’t see his expression and somehow that helped.

“Hi. Claire sent me in here to help with the cake.” It almost sounded natural.
Please, Pete, teach me how to do this.

Seth stepped back, waving him into the kitchen. “Well, come on in. You can be in charge of the ice cream.”

Mark inhaled, exhaled. He began dividing one very large number by another. Long division, no short cuts, no remainders, out to infinity if necessary. His feet felt weighted as he shuffled forward and into the bright yellow kitchen.

Seth held up a spatula full of chocolate frosting and gestured toward the cake. “Claire was running behind, so I offered to finish up while she gets the party going.” He nodded out the kitchen window toward the backyard, where children tumbled in wild bunches and their mothers watched. “Once again, you save me from a world of women.”

Mark blinked at the slight flirtatiousness in his tone. “Uh, yeah. Looks like it’s just us.” For a man with advanced degrees he wasn’t exactly sounding brilliant.

Seth gestured toward the far end of the counter. “Get the candles, will you? I’m almost done here. Do you have any kids out there? I mean, other than the one still on the inside.”

Mark lunged for the candles. “Uh, you want these?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Seth smoothed frosting into lovely Betty Crocker peaks on top of the cake. How could the act of spreading frosting be so…sexy?

Mark considered. Seth’s question meant Claire hadn’t told him about Pete. Well, why should she? It wasn’t like he expected to be the center of every conversation. If he were any kind of man he’d tell Seth himself. But to do that he’d have to manage more than a sentence at a time. And without Lisa as a barrier between them Mark might need to do something about this ache of desire. “No.” It came out gruffer than he intended.

Seth looked up startled. “No what?”

Mark stared at his shoes. “Um, no children.”

Seth smiled. “At least for the moment, eh?”

Mark stared at his feet.

“Look, you don’t need to worry, it’s not contagious or anything.” Seth’s voice was cold and Mark looked up to find his face transformed into granite.

“What?” He could almost hear his heart pounding.

Seth looked disgusted. “Look, I’m only trying to be friendly but I keep getting really weird signals from you. I don’t know what your problem is, but if it’s the whole gay thing, I don’t want to know about it.”

Mark blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what Seth was saying. Had he guessed? The hardness of Seth’s gaze, the confrontational bravery of his stance finally got through to Mark. Seth thought Mark was freaked out by Seth’s gayness in some uptight homophobic way. And he was freaked out, but not the way Seth thought.

Mark groaned. His throat closed and his mind felt like hardening concrete. There was no way he could articulate his thoughts, such as they were.

But he couldn’t let Seth think Mark objected to his beautiful body or his courageous, sexy, inviting spirit.

Before he could stop himself, Mark bolted around the counter. Seth jumped away warily but Mark reached out and pulled Seth toward him. He held him close until Seth stopped trying to pull away. Seth’s body was warm and strong. Mark breathed in the texture of his tensed muscles and the long length of him. Slowly Mark pulled back enough to see Seth’s face. The look in his eyes held confusion but behind that was…

Mark wasn’t sure what he intended as his lips found Seth’s, but the jolt of excitement that spiked through him banished all thought. He put everything he could into the kiss. His need and confusion, the way Seth took his breath away, everything he wanted to say he poured onto the other man’s mouth. Seth’s breath caught and Mark opened his mouth, pressing his tongue forward. Seth opened to him. Mark’s heart and cock jumped as his tongue found Seth’s. He curled his hand into the softness of his hair, pulling him closer.

Seth responded, his hands slowly coming to rest on his back. Mark pressed his erection into Seth, groaning slightly as he hardened against him. He tasted of chocolate and promise. Mark wanted to stay there forever.

Seth took a deep breath and pushed Mark away. He closed his eyes, hands resting on Mark’s shoulders. Mark held his breath, heart pounding, not entirely from fear.