Moving in Rhythm (2 page)

Mark opened the apartment door and stepped into the cool spring morning. Belle trotted out behind him, wandered to the nearest rosebush, sniffed and squatted delicately to pee. Loping back to the walkway, she sat, watching Mark stretch. Finally he grinned at her and nodded. Together they jogged off toward the park, a muscular dark-haired man and his large blond mutt.

Belle picked up speed as they rounded the first corner, anticipating Mark’s pace. If routine was good for dogs, Belle had it in spades, the same route and pace every day but Sunday.

As he ran, Mark planned his day to the comforting rhythm of his pounding feet. There wasn’t much to plan. He’d already lifted weights for an hour. Monday meant upper body. After his run he would feed Belle, shower, eat and settle in for a long day at the computer. Fortunately the minutia of teaching college math online consumed a great deal of time. Grading today. He needed to write a quiz, but that could wait until Tuesday.

He tried not to think beyond the workday to the long evening alone with Belle. Maybe a novel, a movie? He should take up a hobby. Something manlier than old poetry or chess. No room in the apartment for woodworking. Collecting sounded cluttered. What did normal men do with their evenings? He was pretty sure they didn’t spend their nights trying to convince themselves that celibacy was the answer.

No. What other men did with their evenings was simply not an option for Mark. No Father-knows-best tableaus in his future. Ruth had offered him that and he’d been cruel enough to lead her on for years. To continue the farce with a marriage would have been sadistic. Who was he kidding? Ruth was only a convenient foil to fool his homophobic father. The need to keep pretending had died with him. Now Mark was free to be his true self, if only that self was capable of enough communication to start a real relationship.

Belle looked at him with concern as he surged forward. It was too early for speed, of course, but Mark needed to pound through the surge of guilt that followed the mental image of Ruth’s pain the last time he’d seen her. He cursed himself as a selfish ass and sprinted toward the park entrance. Belle loped behind him. At least she was one female he would not betray.

Mark picked up more speed. Self-recrimination before breakfast was a bad sign. Maybe if he pushed a little harder all that self-loathing would settle back into his subconscious where it belonged. Mark tucked his head and charged forward. Belle followed, a pale, graceful shadow.

* * *

The phone rang just as he stepped from the shower. Mark wrapped a towel around his waist and padded into the kitchen to answer. Glancing at the caller ID he smiled. Pete. Somehow he always called on bad mornings. When you’ve pared down your human contact to the bare bones, it’s good to have a brother who knows when to call.

“Hey, bro, how’s it going?” To Mark’s ear Pete’s voice sounded way too tense.

“What’s up?” Mark kept his tone light. No need to add to the tension.

Pete inhaled and paused. With a long exhale he said, “Something’s come up and I need your help.”

Mark opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs. It sounded like the beginning of a long conversation. He might as well start breakfast. “What do you need?”

“We’re getting deployed.”

Mark leaned against the counter and closed his eyes. This was definitely turning into a bad day. “When?” he asked as soon as he was sure his voice wouldn’t betray anything. The last thing Pete needed was to hear disapproval in his anti-war brother’s voice.

“Next month.” Pete sounded resigned.

Mark blinked. “Whoa, nothing like giving you notice.”

Pete chuckled drily. “That’s the army for you. We’ve known it was coming for a long time, but I was hoping for a few more months.”

“What about Lisa? Isn’t she due in June?” But Mark knew it wasn’t like Pete had a choice. The army had put him through med school and he had two more years in the reserve to fulfill his end of the bargain.

Pete sighed. “That’s why I was hoping for a few more months. And it’s also why I’m calling. Can you come up here to stay with her?”

“Come to Lacland?” He put the eggs down the counter, afraid if the conversation went any further he’d drop them.

“Just until I get back? Look, Lisa’s a trouper and she’s doing great with this, but I’m pretty freaked out. Childbirth is…” Pete’s voice trailed off.

Mark felt his chest tighten in response. “Hey, you know better than I do that women don’t die in childbirth like they used to.”

Pete’s breath sharpened in Mark’s ear. “Right. I know. Prenatal care, obstetrics, everything is better than it was thirty years ago.”

“Thirty-two. You’re getting old, buddy.” He could hear Pete trying to smile at the bad joke. “And even then, Mom’s death was a fluke. That’s what Dad always said. But what am I telling you this for? I’m not the doctor in the family.”

Pete cursed quietly. “Listen, Mark. I’m pleading here. It’s taken Lisa years to get a decent number of piano students and she’ll lose them if she goes back to California to be with her family. Besides, her mom drives her crazy and I can’t do that to her. But she’s going to need family. I can’t just leave her…” His voice broke. He cleared his throat before continuing more calmly. “Think about it, okay? I’ll clear my stuff out of the home office and it’ll be all yours. You’ll barely hear Lisa’s students—they only come after school and on Saturdays. We have great internet access so you can teach from here. We don’t have room for your weights but there’s a gym two blocks away. I’ll spring for the damned membership. Lisa goes to exercise classes there. You could even go with her, um, just in case. Please come, will ya?”

Mark looked around his tidy kitchen, his tidy apartment, his tidy life. He closed his eyes. His heart raced at the thought of leaving. It had been a year since he traveled from his carefully constructed cave. A long, celibate, nail-biting year. He didn’t want to leave the fragile security he’d constructed. But he didn’t even want to think about Pete going back to that hellish, explosive desert. Pete had been to Iraq twice early on during his active duty years. Now he was probably headed for Afghanistan, for who knew how long. Putting soldiers back together. Saving lives.

Mark cleared his throat. “Okay. Nothing going on here anyway.”

Pete’s breath rushed out in obvious relief. “Thanks so much, bro. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”

“No problem. I’ll start packing today and be there by the end of the week. Give us some time together before you go.”

From her position curled on the kitchen rug Belle lifted her head curiously at the word “go.” Mark shook his head. Not yet. But very soon. Way too soon.

“I can’t believe you talked me into a dance class.” Mark smiled affectionately at his sister-in-law, who waddled beside him toward the aerobics room at the back of the gym. His quads burned from his morning weight routine.

She beamed up at him. “Oh, you’ll like it. It’s not dance, it’s Zumba. Kind of an aerobics class with flash. The music is fun and the dance moves are a blast. And I hear Seth Miller’s class is the best.”

Mark scowled.

Lisa nudged him toward the doorway festooned with a large poster declaring
Ditch the workout—come join the party
. “Besides, this is a great way to meet girls. You’ll probably be the only guy in class.”

He groaned and motioned for her to pass through the doorway first. “Thanks, but not interested. And I’m not exactly a party guy.”

Lisa touched his arm as she passed. “Loosen up. I know you and Ruth were together for years and it hasn’t been that long since you broke up, but it’s time to move on.”

Mark took a deep breath. He smiled down at her, touched by her obvious sincerity. “Ruth and I weren’t… I’m not interested in dating right now.”

Other people milled around the aerobics room. Lisa led him to a spot near the back, chattering as she went. “There are plenty of fish in the sea.”

“Right, and a bus comes by every ten minutes.” He leaned a hand against the wall so he could stretch out his quad. “But I’m still not interested.”

Lisa looked at him pensively. She had tied her red curls into two asymmetrical pigtails. She looked something like Pippi Longstocking, if Pippi had stuffed a beach ball down the front of her shirt. “Pete always said Ruth wasn’t your type.”

Mark dropped his foot and stared at her. Switching to stretch his other quad he asked, “And what does Pete think is my type?”

She shrugged. “He didn’t say. But not Ruth.”

“Right.” Mark looked around at the room full of women in shorts, sports bras and tights. He hadn’t been anywhere with this many people since school. But if Pete could do combat medicine, the least Mark could do was to face a few of his fears and humor Lisa. “Are you sure this class is okay for you?”

Lisa grinned. “It’s just dancing and the doc says it’s fine to keep doing it for now.”

A woman in faded sweats and a tee shirt turned around and looked at Lisa. “Wow, it looks like you’re due soon.”

Lisa laughed. “I’ve still got a few months. He’s a big boy.” She grinned at Mark. “Probably inevitable. Big babies run on both sides.”

“You probably didn’t mean that the way it came out.” The woman included Mark in her smile.

He shifted uncomfortably. It was happening way too often—people kept mistaking him for Pete. Even people who’d met Lisa and Pete before. Understandable, as both brothers looked remarkably like their dad and like each other, but still…

Before he could say anything more the woman focused on Lisa. “I’m Claire. I’ve seen the two of you around the neighborhood. It’s nice to finally meet you. This is a great class. I hope you like it. This isn’t your first Zumba class, right? I mean, you’ve been doing it all along?”

Lisa nodded. “Sure. I’ve been going to the afternoon class with Marsha but this fits Mark’s workout schedule better. I told him I’d be fine on my own but…” She shrugged.

Claire smiled at Mark. “She should be fine but you’re a good sport for coming.” She turned her attention back to Lisa. “Listen, Seth has this hop-kick-hop sequence in one of the middle songs. You probably want to skip that. And avoid serious bouncing. Keep moving but with both feet on the floor. “

“Maybe you shouldn’t—” Mark started.

“My doctor says it’s fine,” Lisa said, waving him off. “If something doesn’t feel right I won’t do it. Now quit worrying. Women have been having babies for a very long time. This isn’t the Victorian age. I don’t need to settle into bed for my confinement.” She grinned at Claire. “I’m Lisa and he’s Mark.”

“Good to meet you.” The other woman gestured toward Lisa’s belly. “And a pleasure to meet the little one too.”

Some sort of Latin music started. A tall, lean man with curly brown hair stood in front of the class and clapped his hands in rhythm. All chatter stopped as everyone focused on him.

“That’s Seth. Now don’t forget to keep your feet on the ground.” Claire whispered to Lisa before turning to face forward.

Seth grinned broadly at the class. He had a beautiful smile. Seth called, “This is a salsa so it will be one, two, three, one, two, three. And we’ll start with a front step, back step, front…” He whirled so his back was to the class and began moving with the music.

Mark swallowed hard. The man looked as beautiful from behind. To keep from drooling, he focused on following the Seth’s feet and stumbled over his own.

“Now left, two, three, side, two, three and back, two, three, twirl…”

Mark looked around. Nope, no one else looked quite as clumsy, except one old woman in the corner. She could probably claim arthritis as an excuse. He felt lumbering, like some large dim-witted animal. Whereas Seth looked—the only word Mark could think of was lithe. Seth’s feet seemed to glide across the floor and his body undulated in a fascinating way.

Seth moved sideways in graceful arcing steps. “Traveling grapevine.”

What the hell did that mean? Mark stumbled sideways, trying to stay with the rhythm.

“Chicken walk,” Seth called as he faced the left side of the room. “Chest out, arms up, now compress. And out and in and out and turn. This is a body pump, folks. Use your abs.” How did he manage to look graceful while puffing out and sucking in his chest like that and scooting forward in a damned good impression of a fucking rooster? Literally.

Mark stumbled to the side, feeling more foolish than he could remember.

The song changed and Seth faced away from them again. “Okay, arms in the air. Let’s step it up.” He raised his hands and jumped from one foot to the other in time with the music. Seemed simple enough. Mark followed, allowing himself to be swept up in the music as Seth led them in a clapping, tapping, energetic but not too complex routine. It was almost fun.

Mark watched Seth’s hips pulse back and forth. He’d never seen a man move like that and was mesmerized. He lost track of the footing as his eyes focused on the clench of Seth’s left butt cheek, then his right. Riveting.

The music changed again. Seth stood in a wide-legged stance. He bounced up and down to the first few beats then called, “Body pump,” and thrust his hips quickly forward and back.

Mark stopped breathing.

“You’re supposed to move, silly,” Lisa whispered to him.

Mark shook himself. Seth had moved on to a traveling step. Mark tried following, concentrating on Seth’s feet. Maybe if he didn’t look up.
Jesus
. This was a bad idea. Leaving his room was a bad idea. Watching Seth was a really bad idea.

Seth body pumped again, this time facing the class. Mark stumbled.

“Okay, now shimmy,” Seth called. “Hip roll, flirt.” He thrust out one hip then the next, running his hand along each long muscular thigh.

Mark’s gaze followed the hand down and back up.

Oh, God.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered to Lisa.

“Oh, stop worrying about what you look like. This is fun.” She shimmied beside him. “Lighten up.”

Mark sighed. He focused his attention on Claire. She knew the routines. Maybe he could listen to Seth and watch her. He sneaked another peak at Seth. He was doing more hip bumps. Mark’s eyes snapped back to Claire’s hips. Concentrate on the steps, one, two, crossover, left back, right forward, kick. Mark’s breath started to even. He prayed for the class to be over. Too many people, he told himself. Too much. Too, too much.

“This is a cool-down song,” Seth finally announced and Mark breathed a sigh of relief. Almost free. He followed Claire’s example, focusing on her hips and feet, consoling himself with the thought that he need never enter this room again.

“Okay, that’s it. Thanks, everyone. That was fun.” Seth clapped his hands and smiled.

Women milled around, pulling on pieces of discarded clothing, chatting with each other in that very female, continuous bonding kind of way. Mark tried to be patient while Lisa shrugged into her jacket and chatted with Claire. The urgency to flee the room faded a little without the beat of the music and the sight of—

“Hey, great to have another guy in here.” Seth’s voice was deeper up close, when he wasn’t yelling to be heard over the music.

Mark turned toward him, startled. He could feel himself turning red and hoped Seth would think he was flushed from exercise. “Uh-um,” Mark stuttered, “yeah. Thanks. That was…um great.”

That certainly sounded brilliant. Mark tried to force his gaze up to meet Seth’s. He made it as far as his chin. His heart beat like a caged bird. His skin felt hot. The air was still and stifling around them as Mark struggled for breath. Mark’s doctor called them panic attacks but that was far too mild a term.

“You must be Mark.” Seth held out his hand.

Mark looked up for a minute, startled.

Seth chuckled. “I checked the roster. You’re probably not Megan, Nancy or Lisa, and I know everyone else. I’ve seen you around the neighborhood. Did you move here recently?”

Mark hated shaking hands. He’d never developed the firm, dry grip his father tried to instill. Pete was the hand-shaker. But Pete couldn’t rescue Mark right now, because he was in Afghanistan fixing soldiers. Mark extended his hand and gave Seth’s the briefest shake. The touch sent an electric shock straight to his groin. Mark studied his shoes, mumbling, “About a month ago.”

Seth gave him a puzzled look. “Seems like longer. Didn’t I see you last fall? I think I remember seeing you at the Lacland Days parade.”

Mark blinked rapidly. His hand still tingled from Seth’s touch. He started to explain that Seth had probably seen his brother, but couldn’t get the words out. “Um…”

Lisa bubbled up beside them. “Oh, Seth, thanks.” She held out her hand. “I’m Lisa. This was the most fun exercise class I’ve ever had.”

Seth looked from Mark to Lisa and his smile dimmed a little. He shook Lisa’s hand. “I’m glad the two of you could come.”

With the other man’s attention focused away, Mark’s heart started to slow. God, he was a pathetic wreck. Seth in profile was still beautiful, but much less frightening.

Seth gestured toward her belly. “Or should I say I’m glad the three of you could come?”

“Yeah, it looks like twins but this is just one big guy.” Lisa patted her belly. “I think he likes Latin music. He was pretty active in there during class.”

Seth furrowed his eyebrows. “You’re being careful, right? I don’t know much about…” He gestured vaguely in the direction of Lisa’s abdomen.

Lisa waved away his concern. “We’re fine. But thanks for asking.”

Claire piped in with, “Don’t worry, Seth, we already had that conversation.”

Seth smiled. “You’d know more about it than I do, Claire. Glad you’re watching out for her.” He turned so his gaze included Mark and Lisa. “Our Claire’s a midwife, you know.”

“Really? That’s wonderful,” Lisa gushed.

Claire smiled. “Like I said, you’ll be fine as long as you avoid kicks and jumps. I’d rather my skills weren’t needed during class.”

Mark cleared his throat and flushed more deeply as the others turned their attention toward him. “Um, I’m just going to…” He gestured out the door. “Uh, my stuff.”

Seth’s gaze caught his before he could look away. His eyes were blue, really blue, dark blue, Cezanne blue. Mark looked down.

“Next time then?” Seth’s tone softened. Low and sweet, like someone speaking to a frightened animal.

“Yeah, sure.” Mark bolted from the room. He’d wait for Lisa outside. He flew out the front door, leaned against the building wall and banged his head against the concrete, willing his heart to stop pounding, cursing himself for agreeing to accompany Lisa, much less show up again “next time.” Tears bit at the edges of his eyes.
Pete, you picked the wrong guy to take care of your wife. A fucking dance class terrifies me and I can’t carry on a civilized conversation.

But of course, that wasn’t quite true. He had no trouble talking with Lisa and could probably have had a perfectly normal discussion with Claire if it was just the two of them, not a room full of nattering women.

Mark closed his eyes and pictured Seth. Nope, couldn’t talk to him to save his life. Of course, if they were somewhere anonymous and dark… He shook his head. He’d sworn off sex, remember? Not unless he could do it properly, humanly, heartfully. No more rutting in dark places with men he didn’t know.

Lisa appeared with Claire beside her. “We’re going for tea. Want to come?”

“Um, no, thanks. You guys go on. I have to get to work.” Mark frowned at his feet.

Lisa gave him a long, strange look then shrugged. “Suit yourself. We’re off to the Corner Deli. I’m dying for a piece of their New York cheesecake.”

Mark smiled down at her. “Have some for me.”

Claire and Lisa linked arms and turned away. Mark gratefully watched them disappear. He’d had enough. If he timed it right he could spend the rest of the day alone with Belle.

* * *

By the late afternoon Mark felt more relaxed. He had worked through the morning, catching up with his online students, grading one assignment and posting another. Lisa brought home roast beef sandwiches from the deli. After lunch he worked and she napped. Then before her first piano student arrived, Mark grabbed his laptop and a leash, sprinted to the car with Belle and spent a few hours on a bench at the dog park, one eye on work and another on Belle.

The sun broke through the clouds. Mark saved his work and stretched out his legs, enjoying the warmth on his shoulders and chest. He watched Belle run with the small pack of dogs that gathered in the leash-free park on a Tuesday afternoon. He had to admit, she looked happy. He probably didn’t give her enough opportunities to socialize.

Okay, so he hadn’t given her any chances lately. Not since Ruth quit coming over with her border collie. Not since he finally told Ruth something like the truth—or at least part of it—that he wouldn’t be marrying her anytime soon. That she’d wasted all those good years on a bad prospect.