Uh-oh. Mark knew most church people thought drinking was one of the worst things ever. His grandfather almost cut him off when he found out Mark went on wine sampling tours, but excused him when Dad and Mom told Gramps he needed to for his job. Kind of a stretch, really. He didn’t need to sample them in order to recommend a wine for a specific meal, but didn’t see the harm in becoming familiar with the varieties, or enjoying a glass himself when he wanted to.
He listened for Julie’s answer with the same intensity he imagined Casey felt. Part of him mentally pleaded with her to be gentle.
“Casey, you know your dad’s leg hurts him a lot, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, he got sick from the pain medications they gave him before, remember?”
Casey nodded. “He puked a lot and got rashes.”
“Right.” Julie turned and shifted into a sitting position. “He tried really hard to live with it, but sometimes the pain got so bad, he needed help. So, he drank beer or brandy.”
“Sometimes both. Or wine.”
Julie smiled and smoothed Casey’s hair. “That’s true. He told me it helped a lot, and it made him forget to be sad about the war. And he could get some sleep.” She drew in a deep breath. “The Bible says to let people like your dad drink if they need it, until they get better.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I can show that to your mom so she understands.”
Casey breathed out a sigh. “Thanks, Julie. Mom should be here, soon, right?”
“Mmm-hmm. She was only about an hour down the road when I called her. She said she’d hurry.”
Mark shifted and sat up, gaze traveling over the rich colors of the stained glass. He’d never heard the scripture Julie spoke about and almost asked her where it was before he stopped himself. Casey needed Julie’s full attention. He could ask later.
Restlessness set in, and he stood. “Be back in a few minutes.”
Julie nodded at him and continued her quiet conversation with Casey. Mark strode down the hall to the nurse’s station and asked about Kevin.
“He’s still being examined. Are you a family member?”
Mark shook his head. Was he even technically a friend? A woman rushed up, breathing fast, her shoulder-length hair windblown.. “Kevin Stewart? Where is he?”
“In with the doctors. Are you a family member?”
“Yes. His wife. What’s wrong with him?”
“The paramedics said a possible overdose. What medications is he on besides this prescription pain med?”
Sheila’s brow and lips crumpled in a puzzled expression as she stared at the woman. “None. And he doesn’t take that, either. He said it made him feel strange.”
“Well, apparently he took some tonight.”
Sheila paused, her brows still crinkled. Her hands fluttered across her hair, smoothing it down. “I want to see him.”
The nurse shook her head. “He’s unconscious. You can speak with a doctor as soon as they’re done treating him. Once he’s in a room, you can visit him.”
“How long until then?”
“I don’t know, Mrs. Stewart. You’ll just have to wait.”
Mark stepped closer. “I can take you to Julie and Casey.”
Sheila regarded him with a stern expression. “Who are you?”
“Mark. I work with Julie. I brought her and Casey here.”
“Well, let’s go.” Sheila waved a hand at him and he set off for the chapel. Quite a take-charge person. Her attitude struck him as unpleasant, and reminded him of Barlow. But her obvious concern about Kevin spoke well of her.
Sheila rushed toward Casey the instant they entered the chapel.
“Mom,” Casey crowed as they embraced. Julie beamed at Mark, as though he’d produced Sheila somehow. He grinned back, glad to see her smile.
Sheila stroked Casey’s hair and rocked him. Casey gazed up at her. “See, Mom? It turned out to be a good thing that I came home early. We found Dad. You’re not mad at me anymore, are you?”
Sheila’s eyes teared up. She pressed her lips together and shook her head, cradling Casey’s head back against her as she closed her eyes.
Mark averted his eyes, feeling like an intruder. Perhaps he should go. He sat at the edge of the nearest pew, close to the back. Julie glanced at Mark, then at Casey. “Hey Sport, how about if you and Mark go see if you can find a vending machine. I think we could use a candy bar or something.”
“But what if the nurse comes for me?”
“Your mom and I’ll wait here in case she does, okay?”
Casey gazed up at Sheila, who gave him a nod and a smile. Mark met Julie’s eyes and shared a knowing look with her. Julie wanted time alone with Sheila. He stood. “C’mon Casey. I’ll buy the treats.”
Julie flashed him a thankful grin, and Casey hurried over to Mark.
“Go slower, honey,” Sheila admonished.
“I’m fine, Mom. Dad says I must have some pirate’s blood since I’m so fast on my peg-leg.”
Mark chuckled. “Well, then, let’s go, matey.”
Casey’s giggle made him smile. A tiny help, perhaps, but one that warmed him. At least he could cheer the boy for a time.
They located a candy machine and Mark urged Casey to decide what to get. Treats in hand, they trooped back toward the chapel. The head nurse called out to them after they passed, and hustled toward them. “Mr. Stewart’s in intensive care now. You may visit him two at a time after he’s settled in.”
Mark grinned at Casey then asked, “Is he awake?”
“On and off.”
Casey grabbed Mark’s arm. “Let’s go tell Mom.”
“Aye-aye, Captain. Lead the way.”
* * *
Mark glanced at Julie after Sheila and Casey walked into Kevin’s room. “Should I wait until after your visit and drive you home?”
Julie lifted her gaze to him. “I think you should come in, too. I want to tell him how you helped.”
“Well…okay. But I hardly know him. I only met him once.”
“Oh.” She fidgeted on the wooden bench. “I assumed by how friendly you and Casey are that you knew them pretty well.”
Mark smiled. “Casey’s easy to be around.”
“Yes, he sure is.” Julie flicked a glance at the door, a wistful smile curving her lips.
“So, how long have you known Casey?”
“From birth. Technically before that, really.” She chuckled. “Since Sheila started carrying him. Kevin, Sheila and I went to high school together.”
Mark stepped to the wall and straightened a framed picture of the hospital. “There. That’s looking better.”
She grinned at him. “You always say that.”
“I do?”
“Yeah. When you arrange the food on the plates.”
“Huh. I didn’t realize.”
She shot him a puzzled expression. “That seems strange to me, that you say something a lot but don’t know it.”
“I was just thinking the same thing. Guess I’m an odd duck.” He laughed, sat on the bench next to her, and met her studying look. Her hazel eyes held flecks of green in them. He looked away and breathed in. Silence stretched while he tried to think of something funny to say to dispel the sudden tension.
Before he thought of a light topic, Sheila and Casey emerged. Sheila said, “You only get a few minutes. They want him to rest.”
The relief on Casey’s face heartened Mark. Julie stood, and motioned for him to come with her. Might as well, if she wanted him to.
Kevin lay, eyes closed, hooked to machines and an IV. At least the bluish tinge was gone, though he was still pale. His chest rose and fell in slow rhythm. Julie drew close and laid a tender hand on the side of Kevin’s face. Mark stood past the end of the bed, feeling more like an outsider than ever.
Kevin’s eyes opened when she spoke his name. “Julie.” His voice sounded weak and raspy. “I’m sorry for how Sheila talked to you. She’s sorry, too.”
He closed his eyes. “Good. Good.” He was quiet for a while and Julie stroked his hair back. He roused and stared at her. “I’m sorry I didn’t know how you felt about me. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
Mark’s eyes widened as realization hit him. Julie loved Kevin. Unexpected gloom descended, along with sympathy for Julie. Thank God he’d never been interested in a married person. Poor Julie. No wonder he’d never seen any boyfriends with her.
Julie’s response was almost inaudible. “Don’t worry yourself. You work on getting better, okay? I’m fine.” She cleared her throat and spoke up. “And I brought Mark in to see you. He helped us find you.”
She pointed at Mark and Kevin peered at him. A slight grin flickered across his lips. “The cook from the clinic.”
Mark laughed and stepped closer. “That’s me. When you’re better, come to the steakhouse and I’ll treat you to a good meal.”
“That’s nice.” His voice trailed off and his eyes closed. A few moments later he said, “I’m sleepy.”
Julie patted his shoulder. “Sleep well, Kevin. I’ll visit tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
Julie raised teary eyes to Mark, and he pressed a hand on her back. “Time to let him rest.” She nodded and walked ahead of him to the door. A wave of pity at her situation hit him, but he pushed it away. He needed to think of something funny to say. That should help.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Julie sat silent in Mark’s car, her thoughts in a quandary. How embarrassing that Mark heard what Kevin said. She could only hope he hadn’t paid much attention, or assumed they were speaking about some misunderstanding between her and the Stewarts. It was disturbing that Mark’s opinion of her mattered so much now.
The sharp awareness of him grew more unsettling by the minute. Little mental clips of him flashed through her mind. How calmly he helped Chris stop choking, and boosted her up, that gentle, caring tone in her ear. The way he kept his head with Kevin, and took charge of getting an ambulance. Making Casey laugh. His comforting hand on her back when they left Kevin’s room, and the quick thrill it caused.
How inconvenient to realize he wasn’t the shallow idiot she’d told herself he was. She knew better than to think of people that way, so why did she think it was okay to judge him so harshly? Julie peeked at his profile when he started the car.
He grinned at her and flipped on the defroster. “I’ll let it warm a minute.”
“Okay.” Now whenever he smiled at her, his face appeared almost painfully handsome, and made her stomach hurt. All these years of fighting such sensations, and she thought she’d grown past swooning over anyone. Only Kevin had ever affected her to that level. Now the same process overtook her around Mark. Not again. She couldn’t go through that again.
At least with Kevin, she was forced to fight the feelings, never allow them any freedom. But, Mark wasn’t married or dating, and he appeared to like her. It would be so easy to slide into a relationship, explore the attraction. Kiss him. Her traitorous brain flashed an image of his face drawing close to hers, eyes closing. Her breath caught at the idea while warmth cascaded inside.
Stop it.
Why him? Why couldn’t she be attracted to someone else? He’d enjoy the flirtation, the dating, and then dump her like he did everyone else. That would be even worse than pining for him and never letting anything develop. Wouldn’t it? She let out a sigh.
“Tired?” His kind tone and expression ramped up her turmoil.
The ache she remembered so well made it hard to speak, but she managed. “Yes. I don’t normally get tired this early, but it’s been a rough night.”
“True. I’m not usually sleepy now, either. Chris goes to bed an hour or two after he gets home, but I can’t manage it. Always up through the wee hours, that’s me.”
“I never get finished with my…hobbies until it’s almost morning, so I know what you mean.”
He glanced at her. “Really? What hobbies?”
She didn’t want to disclose all her freegan and food-pantry related tasks. He’d find it boring, anyway.
While she cast about for some sort of answer, he chuckled. “Well, it can’t be trombone or trumpet practice, unless you’ve got a soundproof apartment.” He fixed her with a scrutinizing look, his brow furrowed. “Let’s see. Julie’s hobbies. I’ve got it! You mentioned video games. You’re a game addict, glued to your computer as dawn breaks, hoping to overcome that next challenge, right?”
She grinned at his delighted smile. Aside from processing food into nutritious soups or stew, she did spend time on the computer, researching and asking for pointers with other hunger activists. He nailed that part.
He laughed. “I’m right, aren’t I? I could picture you in my mind, sitting at a computer.”
She nodded. Before he asked anything more, she said, “So what do you do through the wee hours?”
“I’ve got a bunch of cooking shows I like to tune in on, plus, I search through my cookbooks and try out recipes. My parents buy me ingredients, and I fix their weekday dinners for them, and package them up. Neither of them likes to cook on a workday, so I offered to do it. At their age, I didn’t want them eating all the processed frozen food they kept buying.”
He made a grimace of disgust and she laughed at the comic face. How endearing that he did that for his parents. She stared at him. Oh dear. Her resistance to him was already in tatters. This last bit of information threatened to obliterate what remained. He spent his off hours cooking and packaging food for other people, too. The thought enthralled her.
“So, here we are.” He pulled up to the curb.
She blinked in surprise. That trip went fast. “Thanks for the ride, and all your help.” She turned her head, hand on the door. “Well, enjoy your cooking shows.”
He smiled. “And you have fun with your games.”
She nodded, climbed out, and ambled up the stairs. Before she closed the outside door of the apartment house, she glanced to check if he was still there. He was, with his eyes trained on her. A jolt of a thrill ran through her. She gave a small wave and closed the door, resting her forehead against it. Oh dear. Now what?
* * *
Mark returned her wave then let out a breath. He liked her too much. She interested him more than anyone he could remember. As much as she used to annoy him at times, now he found himself drawn to her, noticing little mannerisms, thinking about her, wanting to ask her a million questions.
But he already knew the one answer that put the brakes on the whole thing. Julie loved Kevin. Maybe since high school, but probably at least in recent years. Apparently Sheila found out and said something to her. Judging from what Kevin said, he’d been unaware. So, it was all on Julie’s part, which filled him with sorrow for her.
He hadn’t been dumped since right after high school, and that was bad enough. What would it be like to love someone and never be able to tell them or be with them? It must be awful. No wonder there were so many songs and movies about unfulfilled longing.
Though unversed in love, he knew a lot about attraction, unsatisfactory relationships, and what it was like on both sides of those. Disappointment, sadness, regrets, anger, self-justification, the entire mess. His instinct told him he’d never gotten as hurt as Julie must be. He hoped he’d never affected anyone that way. While he drove home, he searched his string of dating mishaps.
It seemed obvious none of the girls had been in love with him anymore than he’d been with them. They wanted what he did. Someone to go out with, and have fun. And the shelf life was nearly always the same. About three months. After that, the complaints started, and always along familiar lines. He was too inattentive, too focused on work. His apartment was messy, or he never called just to talk, and on and on the usual litany went. And some of them wanted more intimacy, but he forced himself not to go too far.
After a number of years, he figured dating someone whose job was in food service would be sm
art, but the last three girls he dated were waitresses who even worked at the same place, and they still didn’t share the same interests. He never forgot the time Dad said people needed to have things in common for a good relationship.
Mark had asked him then, “Didn’t you say opposites attract?”
Dad had laughed. “Opposite personalities can definitely attract. Your mother and I are opposites.”
Mark refrained from agreeing out loud. He didn’t want to get questioned about that topic. He’d always imagined Dad as a nervous, barking dog with a hair-trigger temper, and Mom as a placid bird, perched on a branch, staring at him as he barked at her or whatever set him off. The image always amused him, but would likely infuriate Dad.
He’d brought his attention back to Dad’s explanation. “When I say things in common, I mean basic things that are important to you, like what you value, what you believe in. Your mother and I have very different personalities, but a lot of our values are the same.”
He hadn’t really understood that when Dad said it, but it made sense the more he thought about it. If that was the case, he’d probably never find the right person, because she’d be as focused on food and related subjects as he was, and never notice him. What a depressing thought. Ever since he met Casey, he found himself wondering what it would be like to raise a child someday.
He shook his head and parked in his driveway spot. Maybe men went through that clock is ticking thing in their thirties, too, like women did. Great. Eight more years of intrusive thoughts about relationships and kids. The attraction to Julie might grow worse because of it. He climbed out and walked to his door. It would all likely pass if he kept his mind on work. He didn’t need any practice in that skill.
Mark unlocked his door, hung up his coat, and sat on the couch. The silence of his apartment disturbed him. He grabbed the remote and flipped on the TV, relaxing as the droning hype of a news show filled the void around him. Scrolling through the recorded cooking shows, he settled on a favorite and rose to fix a quick meal to eat while he watched it.
A Work in Progress Page 8