Rose’s gaze could penetrate and see right through to the heart of her. After her parents’ funeral, Rose offered unconditional friendship. She accepted Lizzie and didn’t push her to talk about her loss or force her into opening up about her plans. She’d become Lizzie’s safe haven. But as time progressed, she’d begun to challenge Lizzie. Rose’s hard stare didn’t waver.
“If I did take you up on your offer, and move in with you, I’d need a job here. And I don’t know if my job is right for me anymore. Maybe the time has come to move on.”
“Are you going to give your notice? Sounds to me, honey, you’ve already made up your mind.”
“Mar—“ Lizzie shut her mouth. Mark would be upset. But after last night, maybe that wasn’t her concern. He’d let her down.
“AHA,” Rose poked her in the chest.
“I was going to say my commitment hasn’t changed,” Lizzie said, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
“No, you weren’t but I’ll let you pretend you were. I’d hate if you left and I think you would too.”
But if I leave, I can. . . stay? Scrunching up her nose, she considered. In a rather round about way, if she left and pursued her degree at an affordable university, she might be able to buy Patrick out of the house. She wanted to buy the house from him. She wanted to stay put. But if she left and started a program somewhere else, would she slowly fade out of the life she’d started here? Would the Senior-itas save her spot?
Would Mark remember me? She bristled. No, I don’t care.
“Do you want to go back to school?” Rose asked. “That’s a huge commitment.”
“I know.”
“Ladies,” Marie announced and clapped her hands together twice.
Lizzie jumped, the sudden noise coming from just behind her. She exchanged a knowing look with Rose. Let’s talk later she mouthed. Rose nodded her head and they joined the rest of the group in the orderly semi-circle forming around Marie.
“Ladies,” Marie addressed the twenty member strong group, “this is our moment. We’ve been hard at work for nearly a year. Today all of our hard work pays off. Go out there, give it your all, and remember above all else keep smiling,” Marie said.
The group began clapping and Lizzie found herself caught up in the excitement. She was sure some were too scared not to clap and some were full believers of whatever Marie told them. For her part, Lizzie couldn’t help but appreciate the passion Marie put into dance. She’d found something that motivated her and kept her moving forward. Lizzie’s breath caught. I feel that too at the resort. But she didn’t know if her own passion would be enough to keep her moving anymore.
“Let’s line up,” Marie announced.
They formed two lines and then filed out through the center slit of the curtain to the wooden stage that had been erected just beyond. Lizzie, as always, was front and center. She put her hands on her hips, plastered her fake smile on her face, and waited for the music to begin.
* * * * *
Mark hadn’t been to many dance recitals. He couldn’t think of one, actually. But he was impressed with Lizzie’s. Although he’d never met Marie before, he had no trouble spotting the instructor the indomitable force that drove the group, at least according to Rose and Lizzie. While her contemporaries hunched, she stood straight and tall. None of her movements were forced or hesitant, she executed each tap, each shuffle, and every hand gesture with precision.
Unfortunately for Marie, the rest of her company didn’t seem to take dance so seriously. Marie stood at the end of the first line and Rose on the opposite corner with Lizzie in between. Besides those three, the rest seemed to dance to their own beats, often several steps behind. Mark watched in fascination as Rose, Lizzie, and Marie ended the first number and, after several more beats, the rest caught up. He put his hand over his mouth to hide his smile. They continued to dance their hearts out for two more songs and at the end of the third dance, the audience leapt to their feet. Several people used the cover to sneak off.
“Bravo, that was wonderful,” Mark cheered as he approached the group after their final bows.
“Mark, hi, you came,” Rose said with a smile.
His grin stretched even broader across his face in response. Turning to Lizzie, he felt his lips tighten. Lizzie stared through him, her expression blank and her eyes wide.
“Hi Rose, nice to see you,” Mark said. He cleared his throat. “Umm Lizzie? Do you think we could have a talk?”
Lizzie turned to look at Rose who nodded her head. What’s that look all about? Mark fought to keep a confused scowl off his face.
“Yes, sure, let me grab my bag and slip into my sneakers and I’ll be right back,” she replied without any enthusiasm.
After she turned and walked away, Mark frowned. He’d never seen her so deflated. Her bright eyes and cheery personality lightened every day for him.
“I heard the event was a big success last night,” Rose said.
Mark flinched as Rose’s words, and the reminder of his inaction, slapped him. He turned to her but kept watch on Lizzie from the corner of his eye. “Yes, yes, I think so. Did Lizzie tell you that?”
“No, Marie did. She does a lot of work for the foundation.”
“Oh, small world.”
“Very small when you live on an island,” Rose said and added a wink.
“I’m ready,” Lizzie said, returning and throwing a giant tote bag over her shoulder.
“Great. Nice to catch up with you Rose.”
“You too. Hopefully I’ll see you around soon.”
“I’d like that,” Mark agreed.
He put out a hand to gesture to Lizzie to walk past him and she did. Her tiny skirt left little the imagination, barely skimming her upper thighs. On most of the Senior-itas it had been a travesty, but on her the costume had been a revelation. Not that he needed any reminding of her femininity. He fell into step beside her and together they walked across the atrium. His fingers itched to grab her hand and lace her fingers with his. Walking next to her, his skin tingled and the desire he’d struggled to push past and ignore flared.
I could grab her by the waist and kiss her before either of us has the sense to stop.
“Lizzie, I… I didn’t handle myself well last night,” he began.
Lizzie shrugged. She averted her eyes from him and looked off into the horizon. He kept staring, hoping to unnerve her enough to look over. But staring at her had the unwanted side effect of stirring up inappropriate thoughts.
“I haven’t been handling myself well,” he admitted. “And this transition hasn’t been easy.”
“It hasn’t been easy on me either,” she said. “You swoop in and take the job I needed. And I’m expected to help you and adjust and be fine. And I thought I did. I liked you. You treated me with respect. You’ve helped me a lot in my role. I thought I was doing well. I started thinking of us as a team. But I guess you don’t. You didn’t even say thank you.”
“Lizzie, I’m sorry. Believe me. I am grateful. And I think we’re a team too,” Mark protested.
Falling silent, they walked past several rocking chairs and a few people slowly pushing themselves back and forth in an entrancing, lazy rhythm. They walked down the steps and crossed the lawn to the picnic tables and benches set up amidst huge live oaks. Lizzie sat on the table top of one table and Mark joined her. Her light, clean cotton scent rolled off her and tickled his nose.
“But you just take me for granted? You think I’m going to save the day and that’s fine, you don’t have to appreciate what I do? I’ve been working around the clock and I’m tired. I can’t keep up at this pace,” Lizzie said.
“You’re right. Everything you’re saying is right. And I’m trying to get you help, believe me, I am.”
“I don’t have… You know nothing about women. Do you?” she asked.
Flinching, he turned his back to her and slid off the table. Pacing before her, he took in a deep breath. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.
It was a flippant comment. She’d been hurt and lashed out with a phrase used a hundred times a day without ever cutting anyone to the quick. But her words sliced straight through him.
“You know, you’re right. I don’t know anything about women. In fact, I can’t keep a woman. Or, actually, I can keep one when she wants to spend a decade lying to herself. But the minute she’s honest, we were done.”
That got her attention. She raised her gaze from her lap to his eyes. Perched on the edge of the table as he stood before her, they were almost the same height. Confusion clouded her eyes and she frowned.
“What does that mean?” she asked, shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders.
“My girlfriend left me six months ago. To get married. To a woman.”
Lizzie’s mouth dropped open.
“No words? For once you’re speechless?”
“What happened?” Lizzie asked, ignoring his taunts and his sarcasm.
His eyes had darkened to the stormy depths of the ocean during a storm. Only a fool would respond and spar with him, give him the fight he tried to provoke in her. And she was smart enough not to be that fool. Taking in a shaky breath, he leaned his back against the edge of the table. He stood near enough to talk without having to raise his voice and by standing next to her wouldn’t have to make eye contact.
“We were the classic love story. Boy meets girl and they fall in love. After almost nine years together, with a few break-ups behind them, boy finally decides he’s ready for the family he never had growing up. He goes ring shopping and comes home with his heart and his savings in a tiny box and she finally tells him the truth. That she could never love him, not romantically at least. That for nine years she’d been lying to both of them.”
“Mark, I… I’m so… I had no…” she whispered. Her voice came from just past his shoulder. Her nearness threatened him.
“Idea? You had no idea? You’re so sorry?” he supplied, pushing away from the table to stand in front of her again.
Lizzie nodded her head.
“Yeah, well that makes two of us,” he told her.
“And now she’s getting married?”
Mark nodded and looked down at his feet. Getting the Save the Date in the mail had been cruel. He knew Cynthia thought of an invitation as an olive branch. But the woman could be so passive aggressive, he didn’t think she even realized when she was doing it anymore. Lizzie got off the table and reached out a hand, tentatively, timidly, waiting to see if he’d slap or hold the hand. He made no move and let her take the lead, she put her hand in his and gave a firm squeeze. Something about the gesture threatened to shake lose the deep seeded anger that he’d never expelled. The devastating regret of wasted time coiled inside.
He’d yelled, he’d thrown all of her things into the trash, and he’d burned every picture he could find. But he’d never let himself mourn. Lizzie offered him the chance to grieve for what he’d lost. But the longer the moment lasted, the more he realized the relationship he’d thought he’d had, hadn’t been real. He’d been living an illusion and now that he was back in reality, he understood that.
“Thanks Lizzie,” he squeezed her hand back deliberately before taking a step backward. He appreciated the friendliness of the comfort she offered. But without distance, he might do something he’d regret.
“For what?”
“Listening.”
Lizzie glared. The calm of the moment evaporated. Why is she mad at me? I’m fighting for her. I’m on her side. But watching her seethe, he realized everyone knew that, except Lizzie. He’d told Scooter and Phil and Trish about her. He’d spoken to both Frank and Samantha. But he’d never said the words to her.
“And thanks for last night. You saved the day. And I want you to know I went from the parking lot into the dinner and told Frank,” he said.
She clasped her hands behind her back and looked past him. He wanted so desperately for Frank Cade to see her work and value her. Regardless of whatever creative accounting Frank had stumbled into, Lizzie deserved not only a support staff but also a raise. But he didn’t know if Frank ever would understand.
“Mark, I don’t… Look, I want a raise. No, I’m demanding a raise. I work hard. I am currently doing the job of two people. And I’m underpaid,” she told him, raising her chin to look him directly in the eyes.
“I’ve… Lizzie, it’s not that… I get it. But I don’t…” he sputtered.
I’m trying he wanted to shout. But what good would come from telling her everything he’d learned? Her chin up and shoulders held back, he’d come to understand, meant she was serious and her words had been determined. Frustration and anger at the situation and his inability to fix it for her left him off-balance.
“I’ve got to get going. Can’t spend the whole day in spandex,” she said, excusing herself as she stood up from the table and climbed back down to the ground. Lizzie grabbed her tote bag, swung it over her shoulder, and stomped off.
Mark didn’t watch her leave. He focused his eyes on the sea and watched as a group of dolphins jumped near the Pier, catching their own dinner. She’d stayed to listen to him when he was hurting, but mention of the job had her running away. He wanted to talk with her about everything he knew and figure out a plan for her.
When he hadn’t immediately capitulated to her demands, she’d run off? Pulling out his phone, he watched until five minutes ticked by. He didn’t want to run into her again, not without answers that might appease her. He strolled down the Pier and Mallery Street towards Phil’s. Tourists filled the sidewalks and bikes navigated the road, the town was coming alive again. Mark missed the anonymity of getting lost in a big crowd on the island. He loved the start of the summer season when he didn’t feel so conspicuous.
She’s mad about the job. I would be mad too. But what about. . . my past? Does she pity me? Mark didn’t want pity from anyone but especially her.
He had never been in sync with Cynthia. He had never been able to give her what she wanted or to anticipate her needs. She wanted him to be bold and take charge. But when he did, she inevitably backed off and seemed intimidated. He’d never been as comfortable around Cynthia as he was around Lizzie.
Letting himself in the back door, Mark walked up the staircase.
A few years ago, he had moved in with Cynthia when she’d decreed it. But she’d never unpacked. She’d left her things in boxes in the second bedroom and only unpacked her clothes. Had he been the naïve, gullible guy willing to go along with whatever she wanted? No, he couldn’t lay the blame entirely at Cynthia’s feet. She may have been lying to herself when she was living with him. But he hadn’t forced her to be honest with herself and so he hadn’t been honest with himself either. They’d fallen into an easy, lazy relationship and had devolved into being roommates by the time Mark proposed.
He thought she wanted to make the next step. He hadn’t realized she’d finally worked up the courage to be true to herself. When would he find that strength? He mused. He raised his hand to knock on the door but the delighted sounds of little boy giggles and happy, whacking tail stopped him. Mark turned the knob and pushed the door open to peek inside. Sure enough, Scooter and Charlie were playing tug of war with a rope. Scooter understood that Charlie was young and didn’t pull nearly as hard as he did with Mark. Still, Scooter had enough of an advantage to drag the little boy across the floor.
Mark stepped inside and shut the door.
“What’s this Scooter? You found a new owner?” Mark bellowed.
Charlie and Scooter dropped the rope and turned to Mark.
“Unca Marr,” Charlie called running to grab Mark by the kneecap.
“Hold on,” Mark told him and the little boy tightened his grip.
Mark walked around the room, lifting his right leg with the giggling boy high into the air before putting it down. Each exaggerated step solicited more laughter until finally, he couldn’t hold on any longer. Mark lowered him down carefully as Trish came down the hall.
&n
bsp; “Hi Mark, thanks for letting us play with Scooter today.”
“His pleasure,” Mark replied, bending down to rub Scooter’s head behind the ears. “He likes getting out of the house every now and then. Coming to your house to break things is a nice change of pace.”
Trish rolled her eyes.
“Well I think we can get a dog,” Phil announced as he got up from his spot on the couch.
“Not every dog is as easy as Scooter,” Mark cautioned.
“Maybe we just need to take Scooter,” Phil teased.
“Come on Charlie, let’s get Scooter’s things,” Trish called out.
“Ohkay, ‘mon Ssscooer,” Charlie called out and the trio walked down to Charlie’s bedroom.
“Thanks for taking him today,” Mark said.
“No problem. Charlie loves having him over. How did the big performance go?”
“About what you’d expect. Three of them are surprisingly good dancers.”
“And the rest?”
Mark put his hands in his pockets and leaned back on his heels, his eyes focused on the ground. He shouldn’t laugh he reminded himself and bit his lip. The Senior-itas had worked hard and put on a recital in front of a crowd of tourists. That took a lot of courage, in his opinion.
“I think the rest were dancing to their own beats. But I guess they’re angling to perform at the Fourth so you might get a chance to catch them.”
Phil chuckled. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
Mark nodded and walked over to the kitchen table. The smell of apple pie wafted over to him and his mouth watered. Had Trish been baking in this heat? He scanned the countertop but when his search came up empty for dessert, he pulled a chair out and reluctantly sat down.
“So, I told her…” Mark muttered, clenching and unclenching his hands into fists on the table top. From under his eyelashes, he glanced up at his buddy. Phil had followed him over and sat down in the chair next to him.
“Told her?” Phil knit his brows together.
“I told Lizzie about Cynthia.”
“You did? Why? I thought you were just work colleagues.” Phil searched his face.
Tidal Patterns (Golden Shores Book 1) Page 16