“He’s got better things to do than let a philanderer take up any more of his time,” Austin said, putting his hand on Mark’s shoulder. “I suggest you do as he said and get out of here.”
“Fuck you!” Todd’s hands balled into fists and for a moment Austin wondered if Todd was going to hit him. Then, with an angry glare in Austin’s direction, Todd walked past him and Mark. Picking up his bag, he opened the door. “You’ll come crawling back, Mark, and when you do it’ll be too late.”
“You’ll be with some other idiot who’ll believe it when you say you love him, but can’t divorce your wife? Good luck with that, Todd. Not all men as stupid as I’ve been.”
For a long moment, Todd gazed at Mark. Then, turning on his heel, he left the apartment, slamming the door behind him.
Mark’s shoulders slumped as he said, “For once, I think I’m glad you were watching me from your balcony. Thank you for rescuing me.”
“No problem. You looked as if you could use some backup. I’m glad I could help.”
“Me too,” Mark replied, sounding forlorn as he walked over to drop down on the sofa. He buried his face in his hands, sighing deeply.
“It’s going to be okay,” Austin said, taking a seat in the armchair. “You might not believe it right now, but it will be.” He paused, looking at Mark. “None of my business, but how did you manage to get hooked up with a married man? One whom, I’m presuming, isn’t out of the closet.”
“He came into the costume shop,” Mark replied, not looking up. “There was an instant attraction.”
“Did you know, then, he was married?”
Mark stiffened, looking at Austin. “Of course not. I wouldn’t have hooked up with him, if I had. He doesn’t have a wedding ring, or if he does, he doesn’t wear it all the time.”
Curious, Austin asked, “So how did you find out?”
“He used to live here in the city. I saw him one day, with his wife and kids. Connie, his daughter, was only maybe a month old.”
“How did he explain it?”
Mark leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. “He apologized profusely for not telling me to begin with. He said he was afraid of the consequences if his wife found out about me. Apparently, and I can only take his word for it, his in-laws are rabidly anti-gay, and his wife isn’t much better.”
“Almost makes me feel sorry for him.” Austin shook his head. “But not really. You should have cut him loose the second you found out.”
“I know, but I was in love with him by then, or thought I was. A few months later, he moved away. He said his company was transferring him. I had no reason to doubt him.”
“You do, now?”
Mark looked at Austin. “Now? Maybe. It sure made a great excuse for why he left so suddenly—and it was sudden. It’s possible he decided he was taking a chance I might run into him and his family again, and say or do something to let his wife know he was having an affair, and with a man, no less. Whatever the reason, he did move.”
“Coming back to town when he needed his man fix,” Austin replied caustically.
“Yeah.”
“Look. It might not mean much to you, but I think you did the right thing, tonight.”
“Thanks.”
Austin nodded. “I also think you should get out of here for a while. Take a walk, go get dinner if you haven’t eaten already.”
“I haven’t. I’m not hungry.”
“You have to eat.” Austin chuckled softly. “You’re not a teenaged girl who’s just been dumped by her main squeeze.”
“Far from it, and I’m the one who did the dumping. Not that it makes me feel much better. I know it was the right thing to do. God only knows the ladies who work for me told me it would be—more times than I can count.”
“Then get out of here and celebrate your freedom with a good burger, or even a steak.”
Mark hesitated. “Would you come with me? You can smack me when I start crying in my coffee.”
“Beer, and sure. I don’t have anything I need to do tonight. Let me stop by my place to get a warmer jacket. I grabbed the first one I found and—” Austin fingered the light-weight poplin, “—this is not made for freezing weather.”
“No kidding.” Mark went to get his coat.
“You did do the right thing.” Austin commented as he joined Mark. You might have a hard time believing it for a while, but you did.
* * * *
“I didn’t know this place existed, and I’ve lived in this neighborhood forever,” Mark said as he and Austin walked into a small bar several blocks from his apartment building. It sat between an auto repair shop and a laundromat.
“Probably because it only opened last November,” Austin replied. “I stumbled onto it by chance when I was looking for an office supply store which was supposed to be here.”
The place was small, and very busy for a Wednesday night. Busy enough they had to wait a few minutes for a table to open up.
“No steak,” Mark commented after perusing the menu.
“I beg to differ,” Austin replied. “They have a steak sandwich. Order it with the bread on the side. No butter, no mayo.”
Mark grinned. “Then hold the bread.” He wondered if Austin would get the reference.
Pretending to be the waitress, Austin said, “You want me to hold the bread, huh?”
They said, in unison, “I want you to hold it between your knees,” before bursting out laughing.
Mark did order the steak sandwich, on sourdough bread, with all the trimmings that came with it. Austin opted for a Swiss and mushroom burger, and they both asked for beer.
“I think that was the first time I’ve seen you laugh,” Austin said when the waitress left.
“In all your window peeping, I never did?”
“I wasn’t peeping,” Austin retorted. “I was observing. And no, I don’t remember you laughing, even during your party.”
Mark winced. “I guess you probably didn’t. I’ve been fighting the fact I should have dumped Todd long before now and it didn’t make me particularly happy.”
“How about we table any discussion of him for now? You’re supposed to be celebrating your freedom, not wondering if you did the right thing. Which, as I said earlier, you did.”
“I know.” Mark took a long pull on the beer the waitress had set in front of him. He smiled tightly. “I wonder if he’ll call as soon as he calms down, to try to convince me we should get back together.”
“So, what do you think of the weather,” Austin replied, patently ignoring what Mark had said. “They say we’re in for another storm over the weekend.”
“God, I hope not,” Mark replied, going with the flow. “They’re death on my business. Saturdays are my most productive days.”
“Is there really much of a call for costumes?”
“Yep, although it can be seasonal. Holidays are our busiest times. Then there are costume parties, companies who are doing a special promotion. I told you as much, the last time you asked.”
“Sorry. I forgot. Enough to keep you and your employees from starving?” Austin asked.
“Yes,” Mark replied. “Does editing keep your head above water?”
“Pretty much. I’m never going to get rich at it, but I like it, so I’m content.”
“How long have you been doing it?”
“Two years,” Austin said. His expression darkened momentarily before he picked up his beer and took a drink.
Mark saw sadness in Austin’s eyes, but didn’t probe. “What did you do before then?”
“I was a partner in an interior decorating business.”
“Big jump from that to being an editor.”
Austin nodded. “Something happened, so the company closed its doors.”
“Here in the city? I mean your company.”
“No. On the west coast.” Austin stared as his hands, clenched around the beer bottle. “It’s in the past. I decided I didn’t want to stay where I was, so I packed up, moved
out here, and got in touch with a publisher I’d worked with when I was putting myself through college. She was out of business, but she gave me the names of a couple of others. Now, it’s what I do.”
“Locked in your lonely room.” Mark quickly regretted his comment when Austin’s expression filled with misery. “Want to talk?” he asked quietly.
“No, I want to eat,” Austin replied quickly, flashing a brief smile as the waitress arrived with their food.
Mark took him at his word, vowing, as he began eating, to find out, if he could, what was behind Austin’s deep sadness. He helped me. Maybe it’s time I returned the favor, if he’ll let me.
“That was pretty good,” Austin said a while later, spearing a mushroom which had escaped from his burger.
“It was. I’ll have to remember this place, the next time I don’t want to cook for myself,” Mark agreed.
“Do we want another beer?” Austin asked.
Mark grinned. “Want and order are two different things. I have to work tomorrow.”
“The joys of being chained to a real job,” Austin replied. “Okay, let’s bundle up and head back.”
They did, walking fast in deference to the icy weather. When they got to Mark’s building, he said, “Thank you for stepping in when you did. I appreciate it. And for making me get out of the house.”
“Do you feel better, now?”
Mark thought for a moment before replying, “Yeah, I do. It might take a while before I stop hoping the next phone call will be from him, but I’ll get there in time.”
“You will,” Austin agreed. “I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”
“Other than through my window?” Mark replied with a grin.
Austin nodded. “I hope so.” Then, saluting, he crossed the street to his building, disappearing inside.
He’s a nice guy. If I were looking, I could do worse. Well, if he’s gay that is and there’s been nothing to indicate he is. But I’m not looking, so it’s a moot point.
Chapter 6
“I did it!” Mark said, as soon as Norma and Sara arrived at work.
“Broke up with the bastard?” Norma asked.
“No. Booked my trip to the moon,” he retorted. “Yes. I broke up with him.”
“Okay. I’ll admit it was a stupid question.” She hugged him, then took a step back, looking at him. “Are you okay with it?”
He nodded. “I think so. I dreamed about him last night, but, yeah, I am.”
“So how did he react?” Sara asked.
“He wasn’t happy. Especially when Austin showed up.”
“Austin?”
“The guy I told you about who lives in the building across the street,” Mark replied.
“The one you had coffee with.”
“Yes.” Mark trailed behind them as they went to the back of the shop to get rid of their coats.
“Why did he? Show up, I mean,” Norma asked.
“Honestly, I never asked.”
“Mark. I swear.” Norma swatted his arm. “You are the least inquisitive man I’ve ever met.”
He shrugged. “Habit, I guess. What I don’t know can’t hurt me.”
“Yeah, right. Like not knowing the son-of-a-bitch was married until it was too late.”
“Okay, that hurt,” Mark admitted, starting the coffeemaker.
“And look what it cost you. Five years of your life,” Sara scolded.
“Enough already. Okay? It’s over. He’s out of my life.” He crossed his fingers behind his back. “At least I hope he is.”
“What are you going to do if he calls,” Norma asked.
“Hang up. Honest, I will,” he added when she looked doubtful. “I’m not stupid. Well, not anymore.”
“Besides which, you have a new man in your life.” Norma shot him a look. “I hope he’s not married.”
“Nope. That much I’m pretty sure of. You’re jumping the gun, though. We’re barely friends.”
“Then why did he come to your rescue?” Norma asked as they all got coffee then headed out front. “I presume that’s why he showed up.”
“Best guess, he saw me and Todd arguing, from his balcony, and decided to…hell, I don’t know. He said, and I quote, more or less, he thought I needed some backup.”
“So he rode to your rescue then left?”
“Well, no. He made me go out to eat.”
Norma laughed. “Dragged you kicking and screaming the whole way.”
“Not quite that bad. He said it would be a good idea if I got out of the apartment and celebrated my freedom, so we went to a local bar. And no,” he said, shooting a look at Norma, “I did not get roaring drunk. I had one beer, with supper. That was it.”
“Such restraint,” she muttered, grinning.
“Okay. Enough of this,” Mark said when he realized it was ten minutes past opening time. “We might get bombarded, if people planning to get Mardi Gras costumes believe the weather reports.”
“Yeah, I heard them. A big storm this weekend. Ugh,” Sara replied.
“Yep. Let’s hope not, but I’m not counting it out.”
* * * *
The storm came, starting late Friday night. It had already dumped well over a foot of snow on the city by the time Mark awoke Saturday morning—and it was still coming down. The first thing he did was call Norma and Sara to tell them not to come into work. “No one in their right mind would go out in this,” he said when Norma protested.
“Meaning I’m not in my right mind,” he grumbled after hanging up and getting dressed for the day. Maybe no one would show up at the shop, wanting to rent a costume, but good business practices dictated someone should be there, just in case.
When he looked out the window and saw the unplowed street, he had the feeling taking his car would be an exercise in futility. At the far end was one of the main streets leading into downtown. An attempt had been made to clear it, and as he watched, he saw a slow-moving bus go past.
Bus rider is me, today, and hope I get there before it’s time to close, to say the least of opening.
Since he’d set the coffeemaker the night before he poured a cup, drinking it while he made two sandwiches for lunch. He had the distinct feeling none of the restaurants near the shop would be open.
Then, after putting his lunch and his shoes into his backpack, he put on his boots, another sweatshirt over the one he was wearing, his coat, hat, and gloves. Two minutes later, he was standing on the barely shoveled sidewalk in front of his building.
“Do not tell me you’re going into work,” he heard someone call out.
Looking up, he saw Austin standing on his balcony. “I am,” Mark called back.
“You’re crazy.”
Mark grinned. “That would be me, but I have a business to run.” He brushed off the snow which had landed on his face from looking up at Austin.
“No one in their right mind would go out in this mess,” Austin said.
“So I’ve been told,” Mark replied. “If you don’t see lights on in my place tonight, send out the Mounties to look for me.”
“Uh-huh.” Austin shook his head. “Well, this man is going back inside where it’s warm and dry. Have fun, or something.”
“Or something is right,” Mark muttered as he began plowing through the snow on his way to the bus stop.
* * * *
The snow had begun to taper off, but barely, by the time Mark made it to the shop—half an hour after he was due to open. By two in the afternoon, bored out of his mind and up to his ears in coffee, he decided enough was enough. No customers had come by, although a couple of people had stepped inside—”To get out of the snow for a minute, since you’re the only place open,” one man said.
Mark made a sign saying ‘Closed due to snow’, taped it on the inside of the window in the front door, bundled up again, and headed home. What would have normally been a fifteen-minute trip by car, on a good day, took an hour and a half by bus. When he got off, he was glad to see at least some peopl
e had attempted to shovel their sidewalks, including the manager of his building.
He was about to go inside when Austin called out, laughter in his voice, “I guess I can cancel the Mounties.”
Looking up, Mark replied, “Yep. Now if you could cancel the snow.” A logical reply, since it was still snowing lightly.
“Don’t I wish?” Austin paused then said, “I have stew cooking, if you want some. It’s good on a snowy day and you look half frozen.”
Surprised at the offer and a bit leery as well, Mark hesitated.
“Look, it’s only food. No strings attached,” Austin said, apparently getting why Mark hadn’t replied.
“I…Sure. Why not? Give me a few to get out of my wet jeans. What apartment?”
“Four-oh-three.”
“Okay. See you in a bit.”
* * * *
“Welcome to my humble abode,” Austin said as he let Mark into his apartment.
“Thanks.” Mark looked around. “Nice, in a Spartan way.”
“Meaning minimal furniture?” Austin chuckled. He had a sofa, a decent sized TV on a stand opposite it, his large desk in one corner of the room, and a small dining table in another corner. Other than that, there were four large bookshelves along the wall facing the balcony, and a tiny galley kitchen facing the entryway. His bedroom, also minimally furnished, and the bathroom were off a short hallway at the far end of the living room.
“Let’s just say, this makes my place seem cluttered,” Mark replied, taking off his coat to hang it on one of the pegs in the entryway.
“Did you get any customers?” Austin asked, gesturing toward the sofa.
Mark snorted. “Not a one. I should have known better than to think I would. But…” He shrugged.
“Being a dedicated business owner, you had to be there anyway.”
“In my defense,” Mark replied, smiling, “I did put up a sign and close early.”
“Smart man.” Austin settled at the other end of the sofa, feeling at a loss for what to say next. Despite what he’d done for a living, before moving out here from the west coast, he was not a very sociable person. He’d left that up to Jon, who was.
The Man on the Balcony Page 4