Moving in Rhythm

by Dev Bentham

  Mark shook his head. “Lisa…”

  She waved at him vaguely. “Yeah, I know. She’s gay. Better luck next time, eh?”

  Mark sank into an armchair across from the bed. “You know?”

  She shrugged. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist, what with all those duel-mommy couples at the party. Still, it would have been nice.”

  Mark smiled. “You’re sweet, Lisa.”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m not actually. Really, I’m glad to have another army wife around. Last time he was over there we lived on base and I had other women to help out. I’ve missed that.”

  “And it doesn’t bother you? That Claire’s a lesbian, I mean?”

  She furrowed her eyebrows. “Why would that bother me? Claire’s great. Like tonight, when I called to ask her about the spotting, she came over right away. Not many friends will do that for you.”

  Claire spoke from the doorway. “See, Mark, we aren’t all piranhas.”

  Mark laughed. “Thanks for the tip.”

  “Now let Lisa get some rest. I’ll sit with her. You can do whatever it is you do in the evenings. Read?” Claire smiled at him sweetly.

  Mark glanced at Lisa, who watched their exchange tiredly. He stood and patted her hand. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do. I’ll be right down the hall.”

  * * *

  He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about all the complications involved in life with other people. Two months ago it had only been him and Belle, and a hundred or so faceless students who disappeared whenever he turned off the computer. Now he had Lisa to worry about, something like friendship starting with Claire and whatever it was he felt toward Seth. Not to mention the anxiety under it all that came with Pete living half a world away in constant danger. It was all so messy. And yet, the thought of his dark, empty apartment made him sad. Somehow he had to learn to live in the real world, even with the complications.

  He’d have to trust that Claire knew what was best for Lisa. There wasn’t anything he could do to protect Pete. He glanced at the stack of books on his bedside table, “pride” sprouting from their spines. Seth deserved better than some sort of exploratory bit on the side, which was what he thought Mark wanted. Mark knew something about how that went. He’d been with men sporting wedding rings. No matter how briefly they’d been together, the other man’s betrayal of his wedding vows had never made Mark feel better about the encounter. The problem was that if he couldn’t talk with Seth, and he wasn’t willing to let Claire talk for him, then Seth could go on confusing him with his brother forever. If only there was another way to communicate.

  Mark sat up and woke his computer. In a blank document he typed:

  Dear Seth, Seth,

  Mark paused. Now what? He glanced at his stack of books, hoping for inspiration.

  Seth, I’m really sorry about the other afternoon.

  Wait, was he? He closed his eyes and remembered warm lips, Seth’s firm body pressed against his. Hell, no, he wasn’t sorry. He deleted that.

  Seth, I need to let you know some things.

  Duh, why else would he be writing a letter? Mark took a deep breath. He might as well get right to it.

  Seth, I’m gay.

  Mark stared at the word. Gay. It was one thing not to object when Claire asked him if he was gay. It was something else entirely to admit it to someone else, particularly to Seth. Excitement fluttered in Mark’s stomach. Telling Seth he was gay was a sort of invitation. Of course, it wasn’t one Seth was likely to accept once he knew what kind of a wreck Mark was. He started over.

  I’m gay. The gay brother, actually. My brother Pete asked me to take care of Lisa while he was away. If you don’t believe me, Google Peter Apostolos (he’s an emergency medicine physician) and Mark Apostolos (I teach mathematics online through the university). There should be pictures of both of us out there. He’s the one who smiles. I would have told you this earlier but I have a condition that makes it hard for me to talk sometimes. Especially around hot men. It’s probably something I should be taking medication for but, well, I’m not.

  Yada yada, like he should care. Whiner.

  I’m only telling you this so you don’t think I was being weirder than I already was the other day in Claire’s kitchen. I like you a lot. I really like you. You’re a great guy. I’m fucked up. I’m working through my own issues. I like your class but I won’t be at Zumba for a while.

  Take care, Mark

  He read it through and printed it out before he could stop himself. Rummaging through a drawer he found an envelope, scribbled Seth’s name on the front, slipped in the letter and sealed it up. He flopped back on the bed. Problem solved. He wouldn’t need to talk to Seth because after reading the letter, Seth was likely to avoid Mark like he had a communicable disease. Nah, just a communication disease.

  Mark pulled the top book off his stack and began to read.

  Chapter Seven

  Mark stood outside the gym doors, waiting impatiently as the young receptionist unbolted.

  She smiled, opening the door. “Good morning. You can’t bring your dog in here, you know.”

  He held up the letter. “Yeah, we’re just passing by. Could you get this to Seth Miller, please?”

  She nodded and held out her hand.

  Mark paused for a moment then thrust it at her, spun on his heels and trotted with Belle back toward the house. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d skipped a workout, but he wanted to be home in case Lisa needed anything. After all, that was why he’d come to town.

  He fed Belle, took cereal into Grace, who was engrossed in cartoons, made coffee, checked in on his classes and paced until Claire appeared.

  “Good morning.” She smiled. “Did you sleep well?”

  He grimaced. “What kind of brother would I be if I slept well last night?”

  She smiled. “The kind who would be rested today?”

  “I’ll be fine. How’s Lisa?” Mark gestured toward the coffeepot. Claire nodded and he poured her a cup.

  She shrugged. “Sleeping. In about half an hour I’ll wake her, see how she’s doing. Then we can head out. Her doctor said she could come in right away. The clinic opens at eight.”

  “Tell me again how bad this might be.” Mark sipped his coffee and watched Claire carefully.

  “Well, the worst case is that you’ll be an uncle sooner than later. That little boy is already old enough to survive outside the womb, with a lot of medical support. But my guess is the doc will send her home with instructions to take it easy and prepare herself for the possibility of a C-section.” She sipped her coffee and looked at him. “In any event, no more Zumba for the next couple of months.”

  “Thank God for that.” Mark sat back in the kitchen chair, legs stretched before him.

  Claire raised an eyebrow. “Methinks she doth protest too much.”

  He grinned. “Maybe. But before I can contemplate anything with Seth, I need to spend some time figuring out where I want to stand in respect to that closet door.”

  She smiled. “So, how did your bookstore adventure go yesterday?”

  Mark jumped up. “You want some breakfast? I’m starved.”

  “Sure, I’d love some. Does that mean it went badly? I had the impression when you came in that everything was fine.”

  “It was. It’s hard to explain.” Mark opened the fridge and peered in. “I didn’t react that badly. Maybe it’s that I’m so used to being scared all the time. I was nervous, sure—” he pulled out eggs and butter, “—but it was a manageable fear. Scrambled okay? When I checked out I was sort of apprehensive but I didn’t worry my heart was going to explode. And that was such a relief.”

  Claire frowned. “Living that way all the time must be really hard.”

  He paused, his hand halfway into the bread wrapper. “I guess. It’s what I’m used to. I don’t know where I’m going yet with the whole gay-pride thing, but it looks like coming out might be easier than most things
in my life.”

  Claire leaned back in her chair and studied him. “Can I ask you something?”

  Mark busied himself with a pan and butter before answering. “Sure.”

  “Why are you only now getting around to this? I mean, most guys get through the ‘I’m gay, deal with it’ phase in their teens or early twenties.”

  Mark shrugged. “Guess I’m a late bloomer.” He cracked eggs into a bowl and whisked. “To be truthful, I’ve known about myself for years. But you’re right—not telling anyone else is pretty odd. Last night I was thinking about it and it may be that I was waiting until after my dad was gone.”

  Claire’s voice was soft behind him. “He wouldn’t have approved?”

  Mark snorted. “He would have disowned me. Macho ex-army guy. Proudest day of his life was when Pete signed up. It would have killed him.”

  “Ah.”

  Mark cooked in silence, remembering how his father used to make pancakes for the boys on quiet Sunday mornings and watch football with them all afternoon. “Don’t get me wrong. He was a good dad. Raised us on his own and did his best. But he had his idea of how a man ought to act and it didn’t include making out with other guys.” He slid a plate of eggs in front of Claire.

  She sniffed appreciatively. “This smells great. So did he ever, I don’t know, catch you?”

  Mark scooped the remaining eggs onto his own plate and plopped more bread in the toaster. “No. I didn’t start messing around until I was in college, and even then I was nothing if not discreet. And my inability to start a real relationship has made it seem sort of pointless and possibly hurtful to tell my family.”

  “And now? These eggs are good, by the way.” She forked a mouthful.

  “Thanks. And now I don’t know.” He grinned. “Other than Pete and Lisa there’s no family to tell. But I’m still not ready. I have a lot of reading to do.”

  Claire nodded. “Glad I could be of assistance.” She finished her breakfast and looked at the clock. “I need to check on Lisa. Are you driving?”

  “Uh-huh. I’ll clean up while you get her ready. Then you and Grace can get on with your day.”

  * * *

  “Do you want me to come in with you?” Mark asked as the male nurse called Lisa’s name.

  She bit her lower lip. “Please. I know it’s weird but I really could use the company.”

  Mark nodded and followed her into the examining room where the nurse, a slight blond man whose gaze caught Mark’s for a few seconds longer than necessary, ushered them in. His nametag read “James” and he smiled sympathetically at Lisa as he took her blood pressure and temperature.

  “Here’s a gown, honey.” James held out a giant pink hospital wrap. “You get changed and the doctor will be right in.” He bustled out. Mark cleared his throat. “I’ll, um, wait outside. Let me know when you’re ready.”

  Lisa nodded tiredly and Mark escaped into the hall.

  James stood at the counter filling out paperwork. He looked up when Mark emerged. “Everything okay?”

  Mark nodded. “Yeah, she’s just changing.”

  James’s eyebrows arched. He gave Mark another of those long looks. “Brother?” He asked finally.

  “In-law.”

  James’s smile broadened.

  Mark jumped at the sharp rap on the door behind him. He opened it and slipped in. After helping Lisa onto the table, Mark sank into a chair. He’d stayed up half the night reading. Was “gay” stamped on his forehead now? James evidently thought so.

  Lisa’s OBGYN, a tall woman somewhere in her fifties, bristled with energy and goodwill. Mark held Lisa’s hand as a short blond woman rolled in an ultrasound and together, Mark and Lisa watched the image swim into focus. The baby sucked one thumb, the other hand balled at the side of his head.

  “He’s fine,” the doctor finally pronounced. “The only problem is that the placenta is covering your cervix. That’s where the bleeding’s coming from. I’m afraid we may have to do a cesarean when the time comes. Until then you’ll need to limit your activity. I’m not recommending bedrest right now, but don’t overdo.” She turned toward Mark. “You look like a big, strong guy. Make sure she doesn’t do any lifting, stays off her feet as much as possible and takes it easy.” She smiled at Lisa. “Enjoy the time off—you’ll be busy soon enough.”

  And with that the room emptied. Mark helped Lisa off the table and stepped into the hallway to let her dress.

  James appeared immediately. “Maybe we can get together sometime,” he murmured, pressing a card into Mark’s hand. Before Mark could answer he was gone.

  * * *

  Mark settled Lisa at the kitchen table with her feet up. He put on tea water, brought in her laptop and a novel. Peering into the fridge he grunted. “As soon as your tea is ready I’m going to the grocery. We’re out of everything. Any special requests?”

  “Chocolate and lots of it. And cheese. I’d kill for some cheese.” Her fingers clicked along the keyboard. “Hey, Pete’s online.” Within seconds an exhausted-looking Pete filled Lisa’s screen.

  Mark felt a wash of relief. He hadn’t been aware of how Pete’s silence had been bothering him but now he found himself grinning wildly.

  “Hi, guys.” Pete’s lips and image didn’t quite sync but his smile matched Lisa’s and probably Mark’s own.

  Mark glanced at his watch. It must be the middle of the night there.

  Lisa babbled about the ultrasound, evidently too caught up in the sight of their child to mention the pregnancy complications.

  Mark pitched in with, “He’s a thumb sucker just like you.”

  Pete smiled tiredly. “I’m so glad you’re there taking care of my girl. Thanks.”

  Mark’s eyes burned and his heart swelled. “No problem.” The teapot whistled. Mark dived for it, poured Lisa’s tea and waved to Pete as he set it beside her. “Hey, I’m gonna get out of here, give you two some privacy.”

  “Wait I need to tell you both something.”

  One look at his brother’s face told Mark it wasn’t good news. He nodded at the screen.

  Pete took a deep breath. “It’s nothing to get too worried about, but you should know I’ve been transferred.”

  “Kandahar,” Lisa breathed.

  Pete nodded. “Evidently my skills are needed here. That’s why I was out of communication for so long. I’ve been on the road.” A pained look crossed his face. “It’s a hell of a road. But I’m here now and I’m relatively safe. It’s a state-of-the-art facility. We’re walled in and protected.”

  Lisa was blinking furiously.

  Mark put a hand on her shoulder and tried to smile at Pete. “You always were a center-of-the-action kind of guy.”

  Pete snorted. “The action I’d like to be at the center of is right there with you. It means a lot to me that you’re there for us, bro.”

  Mark nodded. He was not going to cry in front of Pete. Not now when both of them needed him to be strong. He squeezed Lisa’s shoulder and grinned at Pete. “I’m expecting you home before the diapers need changing. Now I’ve got groceries to buy. I don’t need to stick around and hear you two getting all mushy. So stay safe, will ya?”

  “Will do.” Pete grinned. “You too.”

  Belle bounced out behind Mark like going to the grocery was the most exciting event of her morning. Mark followed more slowly, trying to convince himself that the military was likely to do everything they could to keep his precious brother safe.

  Chapter Eight

  By the time he returned from the store Lisa was napping on the couch. Mark put away groceries as quietly as possible and retreated to his room. He had hours of work to catch up on. Halfway through grading student papers the computer dinged to let him know he had incoming mail. He prided himself on his quick turnaround with student questions. It was the thing that students commented on most often in course evaluations. Even though he never met them in person, answering their questions promptly let them know he still cared.

&nbs
p; Before clicking open his email he reviewed the week’s assignment so he’d be prepared to address the problem.

  But the email wasn’t coming from a student address. The address read dancer@dancermail.com. He clicked it open.

  Mark, Thanks for the letter. You two really do look alike. Amazing. How’s Lisa? Claire said there were problems? Take care, Seth

  Mark read the message three times. His heart pounded. He stared at the screen. Was it an invitation? Or was Seth simply concerned about Claire? And there was nothing about Mark’s revelation of his condition. Had Seth read that? Was he too disgusted to mention it?

  He scanned the email again, searching for hidden meaning, but he couldn’t find anything.

  Finally Mark decided to write a short note in response, telling Seth that Lisa was fine but wouldn’t be going to Zumba anytime soon. He hit send and went back to grading papers.

  This time when the computer dinged he felt it all the way to his toes.

  Hey, that’s great that she’s okay. How are you? Must be tough being the hand-holder, especially when it pushes you out of your comfort zone. I bet Lisa is really grateful you’re here. Seth

  Mark stared, touched by Seth’s attempt to reach out over the barrier of Mark’s neuroses. Mark typed a slightly longer reply, talking about the difference between his life at home and his new life in Lacland, how he missed his private time but also how good it felt to have Pete glad he was here. Reading it over again before pressing Send, Mark was struck by how confiding in people seemed to be a skill he was only now acquiring.

  He’d finished grading papers and begun to panic that he’d gone too far by the time Seth’s reply came.

  Hi, I don’t know if this is the same sort of thing or not but when I first got to town I had to make some real adjustments. First, I’d been dancing with a pretty high-powered troupe in Chicago and injured myself, which pretty much ended my professional career. Second, I’d been living in big cities all my life and learning the rhythms of a smaller place took some getting used to. Third, I was licking my wounds—my career wasn’t the only thing that ended with my move. It took a long time to sort all that out, but now I’m happy. Still single, but I’m dancing again with a semipro group here and I’ve learned to like this community. Maybe you will too. Seth.