The Man on the Balcony
By Edward Kendrick
Published by JMS Books LLC
Visit jms-books.com for more information.
Copyright 2018 Edward Kendrick
ISBN 9781634865173
Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com
Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.
All rights reserved.
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This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
* * * *
To anyone who has loved and lost, and found love again.
* * * *
The Man on the Balcony
By Edward Kendrick
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 1
Mark stared dismally at the phone, his thoughts in a whirl. Being in love with him is stupid. I know it is. Yeah, we’re lovers, and when he’s here I drop everything to be him. There-in lies the problem—when he’s here. When he isn’t, he’s almost two thousand miles away, with his wife and kids. He says he loves me. It’s just that he loves his kids, too. I mean, obviously, he loves them. It’s the reason he won’t divorce his wife, or so he says. Why can’t I tell him it’s over?
Each time Todd called to say he was coming to town, Mark would pray this time he’d stay. Each time, his prayers went unanswered. He often wondered if things would be different if he were female.
“Probably not,” he said under his breath, glaring at the phone. Todd had called, moments ago, saying he would arrive at the airport at five-fifteen, meaning he’d be at Mark’s apartment by seven, at the latest.
“It’s a short trip this time,” Todd had said. “David’s birthday is this weekend and I have to be home for it.” David was his son, the apple of his eye. Not that he didn’t love his daughter, Connie, of course, but David…
“I understand,” Mark had replied. And he did. Todd’s family came first. It always has, it always will. The previous month was evidence of that. He’d seen Todd once, because with Christmas then New Year’s, Todd hadn’t been able to get away to come out and visit Mark. He had apologized profusely, as he did every December. It didn’t make it hurt any the less.
Why the hell do I let this happen? Next time I…I won’t be available. A promise he often made to himself, and broke as soon as he heard Todd’s voice on the phone.
“Are you okay?” Norma, one of his employees at the costume shop asked. When he shrugged, she sighed. “The bastard’s coming into town again, isn’t he? Mark, honestly…”
“I know, I know. But damn it, I can’t help how I feel.”
“He’s using you. You know he is. If you were female, you’d be his piece on the side. Not that being male changes things. You still are.”
“You think I don’t know that!”
She hopped up to sit on the edge of the desk, saying quietly, “Then break it off. Please. For your sake, for my sake.” She patted his shoulder, smiling a bit. “I’m tired of dealing with your funks, after he’s gone home to the wife and kiddies.”
He managed a small chuckle. “A hell of an excuse to tell him this is the last time.”
“I know, but you have to keep me happy. I might quit if you don’t.”
“Uh-huh. After six years? I don’t think so.”
The front door of the shop opened, letting in chilly air—and a pair of the shop’s regular customers. Norma got off the desk, going to greet them before taking them into the showroom to look at costumes.
I should do as she said and break it off. I have to, for my own sanity. The truth, and he knew it. He also knew it wouldn’t happen. At least not tonight.
* * * *
Mark opened his apartment door and was immediately wrapped in a one-armed embrace, followed by a kiss.
“Damn, I missed you,” Todd said.
“I missed you, too,” Mark replied. His heart pounding, he waited until Todd was inside then closed the door.
Todd sniffed as he put down his carry-on bag. “You made dinner. I was going to take you out for something to eat.”
Sure you were. Like you’d chance anyone seeing us together. The truth and Mark knew it.
They’d first met when Todd still lived in the city, before his company transferred him to the East Coast. He had come into the costume shop to find something for function he had to attend. It had been instant lust on both their parts. It wasn’t until a month later that Mark had found out Todd was married. He had managed to deal with the fact because, well…We were good in bed. They’d meet at least once a week, at Mark’s place, and all too soon Mark had realized he was falling in love with Todd. That had been five years ago. When Todd moved east with his family, he had made it a point to return to the city as often as possible for what he had told his wife were business trips—which they were, most of the time. It kept him occupied during the day while Mark was at work.
Once, not long before Todd had moved away, Mark had asked him, “Does your wife know you’re into men, too?”
“God, no. If she found out I’m bi, she’d divorce me in a heartbeat and take the kids. I’d never see them again. Her parents would see to that, if she didn’t.” Todd had held him tightly as he added, “It’s not that I don’t love you, but losing my kids would destroy me.”
Mark had accepted his reply. Not that he had a choice. Now, after four years of being celibate unless Todd was in town, Mark was beginning to wonder if loving him, with all it entailed, was worth it.
Can I break it off? Do I want to?
“It’s the Reuben casserole,” Mark replied to Todd’s comment.
“One of my favorites. If I could convince David sauerkraut isn’t ‘yucky’ as he puts it, I’d have Janice make it every week.”
Mark laughed, because what else could he do. “Why don’t you unpack while I set the table, then we can eat.”
The rest of the evening went as it usually did when they were together. As they ate, they caught up with what had happened while they were apart. As always, Todd bragged about how David, now seven, was doing in school.
“He’s a whippersnapper, as his grandfather puts it,” Todd said. “Near perfect grades, he’s got dozens of friends, and he’s even on the peewee soccer team.”
“And Connie?”
“She’s doing well. Loves kindergarten.”
Short and sweet. Mark resisted an eye roll as he filled Todd in on what had been happening at the shop. “We survived Christmas and New Year’s. Now it’s on to Mardi Gras and Easter.” He proceeded to tell Todd a few amusing stories about customers, ending with, “And that’s it for my exciting life.”
“Which I’m going to liven up,” Todd replied with a wicked grin.
He did, soon after dinner was over. The sex was amazing, as always. It was as if they couldn’t get enough of each other…in bed. Mark often wondered if Todd was as enthusiastic when he made love to his wife—not that he’d ask.
After their first bout of sex, they took a time out to have coffee and dessert then returned to bed, falling asleep in each other’s arms after another round of love making. The following morning, after round three, they ate breakfast then Todd left for a business meeting while Mark went into work.
* * * *
“So, did you tell him?” were almost the first words out of Norma’s mouth when he let her into the shop, ten minutes before opening.
He shook his head. “Tonight.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Promise?”
“I’ll…try,” he replied, sighing.
“Just tell yourself you deserve a real life, and a real man who won’t treat you like a…a toy to be played with whenever he gets around to it.”
Mark winced at her description, even though on some level he knew she was right.
Then, late in the afternoon, Todd called him, saying, “I’m sorry. I hate to do this to you, love.”
Mark knew instantly, from the love, it was going to be bad news. In general, it was the only time Todd called him that, instead of using his name. “What’s wrong?”
“Janice called. David’s sick, the flu she thinks, and I need to get home. I’m at your place now, packing. The cab’s due in ten. I wish it was otherwise, but…”
Mark gripped the phone tightly, trying to keep his bitterness from showing as he replied, “I understand. I’ll miss you. Have a good flight.”
“Thanks. I’ll miss you, too. You know I will. I’ll do my best to get back soon. Love you.”
“Love you,” Mark replied before breaking the connection. Not that you care. Not really. I am your piece on the side, exactly like Norma said. Crossing his arms on the desk, he rested his head on them, feeling miserable—and angry.
“Mark,” Norma said softy, putting one hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, except I won’t get to break it off tonight.”
“He did it instead? Over the phone? The bastard.”
He sat up, shaking his head. “No. He had to get home. Sick kid, he said.”
She gave him a hug. “Next time he calls, tell him you’re too busy and won’t have time to spend with him. Do it enough times and maybe he’ll get the message. Then you won’t have to tell him it’s over, face to face.”
“I should.”
“But will you?”
He grimaced. “That, Norma, is something I can’t answer until it happens.”
Thankfully, a group of people came into the shop just then. Stomping the snow off their shoes, they asked if it was all right to look around. “Because we have a party coming up and it requires costumes,” one woman said.
Mark told them it was, then he and Norma went into the showroom with them to give them the tour and answer questions. It took Mark’s mind off Todd, as well as ending the day on a high note, businesswise, as three of them rented costumes, with the others promising to be back the next day with their spouses.
* * * *
The apartment seemed emptier than usual when Mark got home after work. It normally did, after Todd had left the city. Mark wandered around, straightening things while trying to decide what he’d fix for dinner, if anything, since he’d lost his appetite. He stripped the bed and remade it, not wanting any reminder of what had happened there the previous night.
If I had a daisy…He mimed pulling off the petals. It should be so easy to find out if he loves me or is using me. He had a bitter feeling he knew the answer, if he only had the guts to admit it.
He ended up making a sandwich, eating it standing at the kitchen counter. Pouring coffee, he wandered into the living room and flicked on the TV. Nothing caught his attention, so he turned it off, putting one of his jazz discs into the CD player. Going to the window facing the street, he pressed his forehead against the cold glass, staring down at the traffic below, lost in the strains of Ellington’s version of “Mood Indigo.”
Finally, he looked up. Movement, on a balcony of the apartment building across the street from his, caught his eye. A man was standing there—tall, with dark hair from what he could tell. Other than that, he had no clue what he looked like, as the man was silhouetted by the light from the doorway behind him. From his stance, he appeared to be looking directly at Mark. When he turned to reenter his apartment, Mark caught a brief glimpse of his face in profile. His hair was dark, one strand hanging over his forehead. He looked as if he could use a shave, but it might have been the shadows.
“Nosy parker?” Mark muttered. “Or my imagination that he was watching me.” Putting it off as his imagination, since the man couldn’t have seen any more of him than a dark shape against the room’s light, he stepped back and drew the curtains shut.
I need to get some sleep or I’ll be worse than useless tomorrow. Not that I wasn’t today, for the most part. Two days in a row and Norma will have my head on a platter. Since tomorrow was Saturday, generally the busiest day of the week when there wasn’t a holiday in the offing, he turned off the CD player, filled the coffeemaker, setting it start at seven in the morning, then headed to bed. It took him longer than he liked to fall asleep. His resolve to tell Todd their affair was over warred with the fact he knew he’d miss him deeply if he never saw him again.
“Stop being stupid,” he told himself angrily. “He’s taken up five years of my life, for what? A dream that someday he’ll decide he can’t live without me and divorce Janice? Fat chance. I should know that by now. It’s time to get my life back.”
Now all he had to do was convince his heart he could live without Todd.
Chapter 2
“You know what you need to do,” Norma said Saturday afternoon, during a lull between customers—most of whom had only been looking.
“No. Tell me oh great and wise one,” Mark replied.
“Yeah, tell him,” Sara said. “I want to know, too.” She was the shop’s costumer—and sometimes helped on the floor when it got busy.
“Have a party.” Norma looked at him, nodding hard. “A small one.”
“It would be real small,” Mark commented. “You, Sara, your boyfriends, and me.”
“Come on. You know more people than just us. What about guys from the gym you go to sometimes? Or, hmm…”
“First off, I don’t know anyone from the gym, other than to say ‘hi’ to. I sort of know a couple of the people from the coffee shop across the street, but not well enough to invite them to a party.”
“What about the cute kid who works there most mornings?” Sara asked. “He rented a costume at Halloween and an elf for Christmas. And…” She grinned. “He made sure you were the one who waited on him.”
Mark nodded. “Bert. He only did it because he wanted a guy helping him and it was me or Roger.” Roger was one of three temps Mark always hired for busy holidays.
“See, you can invite Rog, Ellie, and Helena, too.” The women she mentioned were the other regular temps. “That would make nine, with Bert. Eleven if you count Ellie and Helena’s husbands.”
“Maybe,” Mark replied hesitantly. “I suppose it isn’t a bad idea. Let me think about it.”
Norma winked at Sara. “Told you he’d go for it.”
“Why do I have the feeling I’ve been set up?” Mark asked, laughing.
“Because you have been,” Norma replied. “Come on, Mark, it would be fun. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Beer and pizza.”
“Next Saturday, after work,” Sara said. “Your place is big enough, isn’t it?”
“I guess. What the hell. Why not? It’s not like I’ve got anything else going on,” Mark replied. Unless Todd…No. If he does call, I’ll tell him I’m busy and it won’t be a lie. He pointed at Norma, saying wha
t he’d been thinking. “You’re hoping he’ll call to tell me he’s coming into town.”
She shrugged. “The thought did cross my mind. If he does, the party would be first step to severing your relationship, since you know he won’t want to come to it. If he doesn’t call? Hey, you’ll be doing something fun with people you like. Won’t that be worth it?”
“Yeah, it will. Okay, you talked me into it.”
Norma pumped her fist. “Score one for the home team.”
* * * *
Austin wrapped his jacket tightly around him as he stood on his balcony, enjoying the cold air and the occasional brisk breeze which caused the snow to move almost sideways at times. He’d been cooped up indoors most of the day, doing edits on a manuscript from an author who was with one of the small, online publishing companies Austin freelanced for. He’d sent the edited manuscript back to her, hoping it wouldn’t take the lady forever to deal with the changes before returning it to him for his final read through. After putting his computer in sleep mode, since he had another manuscript to start on that evening, he’d made dinner.
If it were summer, I’d have eaten on the balcony, but it’s not. He brushed some snow off the railing, resting his gloved hands on it as he looked at the apartment building across the street. He didn’t consider himself a voyeur, far from it, but he did enjoy making up stories about the people he saw through the windows of their apartments.
The lady on the corner, hmm. Last week she had blue hair. Her husband had a cow, so now, she’s back to her natural, well, I suppose it’s natural, auburn. God only knows I would have blown a fuse, if I were him. He’d seen them arguing and had imagined her hair was why. Not that he’d ever find out.
His gaze moved past the next two windows, because their curtains were drawn. That led him to the window directly opposite him. I wonder what his story is. He rarely has any company, but when he does it’s the same man who, from what I can tell, spends the night, or a couple of nights sometimes. They’ve eaten dinner together, without the visitor leaving any time soon afterward. So, let’s see, fantasizing here, the visitor is his on-again, off-again lover. I have seen them kissing, more than once, when Mr. Cute forgot to close the drapes, so that works. Austin had tagged him as Mr. Cute because he was cute, but not handsome. In Austin’s opinion, he also didn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d spend his time going to clubs—based on the fact that most nights he was home by six-thirty and didn’t leave again—that Austin had seen. And they ate breakfast together last time I saw the other guy there, before he took off. He tapped a finger on the railing. Let’s expand the scenario. The visitor lives out of town. No. He’s married and tells his wife he’s going out of town on business, then comes by Mr. Cute’s place instead. I feel sorry for Mr. Cute if that’s the case. Never hook up with a married man. They’ll promise the world, then go home to the wife after screwing the lover—literally and figuratively.
The Man on the Balcony Page 1