The Man on the Balcony

Chapter 1-2

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 s*x 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 s*x, 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.