Unlovely (42 page)

Mark was about to look away when the
woman turned in his direction and locked him with her eyes. The great orange
mouth fell open, and her head trembled above her ropy neck. What on earth was
wrong with her? Was she having a heart attack? Had he frightened her somehow?
She was walking toward him now. What did she want? Who was this?

"Mark!" The apparition
shrieked his name, startling the other patrons and drawing everyone's eyes to
her progress across the room. "Mark!"

The voice was familiar. A cord was
yanked somewhere in his brain and the light of realization sputtered on. As the
woman drew nearer Mark could see her features come into sharper focus; they
faded and were replaced by a memory, and then they returned and changed and
adapted to fit the structure of a face he recalled dimly from years ago.

It was Claudia. God only knew what she'd
been through to turn her into this, but it was Claudia Milford.

"Claudia?" he ventured,
knowing in his heart it was she, but praying for some miracle that it wasn't.
"Is it really you?"

Claudia nodded as she arrived at the
table, tears welling in her eyes, obviously overcome. As Mark came around the
table to pull out her chair for her, she threw her arms around him in a
crushing embrace, her purse banging him on the nape of his neck. Mark hugged
her back, but hesitated to put any strength into it for fear of hurting her. He
could feel her ribs against his chest.

He attempted to pull away ever so
slightly, but Claudia clung to him and began to sob, burying her head between
his neck and shoulder. The other patrons were ashamed to be present at such an
agonizing scene; two tables got up to pay their checks. The remaining customers
lifted their magazines or books, resumed their conversations or turned back to
their board games to demonstrate that they weren't paying attention to the
drama a few yards away.

Finally Mark managed to gently peel
Claudia off his person and direct her to a chair.

"Oh, Mark. I'm sorry I'm so weepy.
I guess I'm just so happy to see you," Claudia sniffed.

"No need to apologize. Of course,
it's
fine," Mark replied, watching her cautiously.
"I'm happy to see you, too. It's been a long time."

"Yes. Feels like yesterday, though.
Just like yesterday," she said, smiling tremulously.

"Can I get you something? Some tea?
Something to eat? The pie here is outstanding." Mark hoped whatever
treatment Claudia was undergoing didn't entail dietary restrictions. She looked
like she'd been through the ringer.

"I would like some tea, thank
you," Claudia sniffled, grabbing the napkin Mark had abandoned on the
table to dab at her nose. "I really am so sorry about the tears. I've
missed you."

Mark smiled encouragingly. "I've missed
you, too. I'll be right back with the tea. Regular or herbal?"

"Regular. English breakfast tea if
they have it."

"You're going to be okay?"

Claudia nodded and blew her nose.

Mark moved off to purchase their drinks.
Claudia opened the purse resting in her lap to grab a tissue. Now that she was
actually back together with Mark – another date in another coffee house after
all these years! –
it
just seemed so unreal.

Claudia watched him place their order.
He looked much the same as she'd remembered him. Of course she had seen his
picture already, so she'd known to expect some aging. His teeth were darker
than she recalled, and he seemed a little bit shorter. That was odd. Still, it
was her Mark.

How embarrassing that she'd cried like
that. Awful. She really must get herself calmed down before he finished at the
counter. Claudia decided to put a smile on her face and pretend the crying
never happened. She wouldn't explain it, certainly not resume it,
just
skip right over it. Then Mark would know that the tears
were the result of the momentary shock of seeing him again after all these
years. It had been a silly, feminine reaction. Kind of charming, really.
Disarmingly honest.

Mark came back with the tea for her and
a coffee for himself, then ran back to retrieve a large slice of peach tart, a
knife and two forks. He returned to discover her smiling strangely. Her
expression made him uneasy, but it boded better than the tears, unless she was
having some sort of episode.

"I brought two plates so we can
split this. I know you said you only wanted tea, but this pie is so good I
thought I could tempt you."

Tempt me? He wants to tempt me? That was
suggestive!
Claudia was delighted at the turn of conversation and her
mood soared.

"As if I needed tempting!"
Claudia purred. She knew it was a daring thing to say as the words were leaving
her mouth, but she decided on impulse to go for it. She waited anxiously for
Mark's reaction.

Mark looked up from the table, startled
and momentarily frozen. Was she flirting with him? It certainly sounded like
she was flirting with him. That kittenish tone coming out of that orange mouth
was so incongruous, that at first it simply didn't register.

Claudia was stirring sweetener into her
tea, lifting tear-swollen eyes to look expectantly into Mark's. She was waiting
for some sort of response.

"Well, good!" he said,
deciding to interpret her words to mean that she was enthusiastic about pastry.
"I was right to get the pie, then. Here, let me split it. Or would you
like the whole thing? I could grab another piece for myself."

"No. Let's share it. I think
sharing would be perfect," Claudia murmured, lowering her voice to a more
intimate level.

Mark seemed to be a little dense about
the flirting, but it was early in the afternoon. There was plenty of time for
them to get comfortable with one another.

Mark divided the pie between the plates,
then settled back in his chair to stir his coffee. He hadn't expected the
reunion with Claudia to be so weird. Had she always been this weird? He
remembered her as a very unusual person, surely, but this was odd on a whole
other level.

"So, what made you look me up,
Claudia?"

"Oh, I don't know. My mother
mentioned you when we were talking about old times, and I guess it just got me
wondering."

"Your mother?" Mark's brows
went up. "Really? How does your mother know about me?"

"Well, I told her, of course. Years
ago. I told her about you."

"And she remembered?"

"Apparently."

"Surely you didn't tell her
everything?" he grinned.

"Of course not!" Claudia
giggled. A high, weird giggle. "Strictly PG. Don't worry."

Mark smiled again, willing his face not
to betray his unease. "So, what a nice surprise to hear from you."

Claudia nodded, blew across the top of
her tea and ventured a sip.

"I've thought about you over the
years," he continued.

"I've thought about you, too. So
often. Not just recently, if I'm being honest."

"Yeah? Well, I hope you remembered
me kindly," Mark said, cutting into his pie.

"Of course." Claudia put down
her cup. She liked the way things were going so far. "So tell me. How have
you been?" Let's hear it, Mark: unfulfilled, lonely, regretful.

Mark considered before responding.
Should he answer honestly? From her appearance and behavior, Claudia seemed to
have had a rough go of it lately. He didn't want to rub salt into any open
wounds . . . but then, what was he thinking? She was a friend, and a friend
likes to hear good news. He could be honest without gloating.

"I've been very well, actually,"
he said.

"Oh, good!" Not the answer she
was looking for, but a textbook one. He had evidently decided to proceed
cautiously.

"Are you married?" Claudia
asked, feigning ignorance. She knew the answer, of course, but she didn't want
him to know just how much research she'd done on his life. She dreaded the
inevitable moral conflict that would accompany their plans to be together, but
the problem of Susan had to be brought out into the open. There was no use
pretending that the path was clear for them to resume their relationship until
the issue had been addressed.

Claudia braced herself for his answer in
the affirmative, popping a forkful of pie into her mouth to appear nonchalant.

"Yes, I am," he answered,
lifting his hand and wiggling his fingers to display his wedding band.
"Are you?"

"No. I never seemed to make the
right connection with anyone," Claudia said. "Except for you,"
she thought.

"That's too bad. It must be hard to
meet people when you're teaching at a girls' school."

"That's too bad?" Claudia
thought, confused. "Why would it be too bad I'm not married? Does he want
me to be married? Wouldn't he prefer me to be single?"

Mark saw Claudia flinch and instantly
regretted what he'd said. It sounded like he pitied her for being alone. She
surely didn't want pity.

"Of course, maybe you prefer being
single. There's a lot to be said for staying single." Mark cringed as his
words hung in the air. Stupid, stupid. Such an ass.

"No, I'd like to be married,"
Claudia said. "I've reached a point where most of my professional goals
have been met. It's time to develop other areas of my life."

Mark studied Claudia's pinched face
across as she offered the meaningless, rote response, her painfully thin,
blue-veined hand resting on the table, and the thought struck him that Claudia
might be dying. Had she wanted to meet with him to say goodbye, to achieve some
sort of closure? Oh, please don't let that be what this is all about. Poor
Claudia. Was she going to volunteer information about her health? Should he
bring it up?

No. He should let her take the lead. If
she wants to discuss it, she will. He would just keep talking. He would keep
the conversation going as if everything were normal.

"I know what you mean. I waited a
long time before I settled down, too."

"What?" Claudia was startled
and moved her hand too rapidly, jostling her cup. A small dark puddle spread on
the tablecloth.

“Oops! I'll get it.” Mark used one of
his napkins to mop the spill and continued, "I waited to get married until
I felt like I'd spent enough time running around. I got tired of packing up and
moving to Moscow every other summer for some academic program or another. I'll
go back to Russia again, but I don't want to go live there for weeks or months
at a time anymore."

"So you just wanted to feel
settled."

"Yes, that was part of it. Plus, of
course, I fell in love."

"Oh," Claudia said. She lifted
her cup gingerly and took another sip, garnering some caffeinated courage
before asking, "So, how long have you been married?"

"A little over seven months. We got
married over the holidays."

Seven months? Only seven months? Mark's
face blurred before Claudia's eyes. He was a newlywed! They were newlyweds.

Newly married. Newly in love
.

"Oh. How nice for you," she
rasped, then cleared her throat in an effort to regain her composure.
"That's very nice, Mark. A Christmas wedding. Congratulations." It
was a nightmare. Newlyweds.

"Thanks. I thought it was crazy to
try to throw something together at Christmastime, but it turned out really
well. Very small. Susan and her mom did all the work. I mostly just had to fit
my tux and show up on time."

"I'm sure it was lovely.
Poinsettias and evergreens," she murmured. "Mistletoe."

"I was hoping that Susan could join
us today for a few minutes so you could meet her, but she's just worn out. I'm
making her take it easy at home."

"Oh, I'm sorry about that. I'm so
sorry to hear it. I would have liked to have met her," Claudia lied. Then
a horrible thought. "Is she sick?" Please let her be sick. Don't let
her be pregnant. Let her be sick. Let it be the flu.

"Yeah, something that's going
around. Some sort of cough. I thought I'd bring her back a little something
from here, though, to cheer her up. As a matter of fact . . . excuse me for
just one moment. I'd better take care of this before all the good stuff is
gone." Mark caught the eye of one of the employees who'd been wiping a
nearby table and began asking about whether it was possible to have a pastry
wrapped to go.

"At least she isn't pregnant,"
Claudia thought, trying to gain small comfort, but prospects were bleak,
indeed. Tears were stinging behind her eyes again, and she opened her purse to
retrieve another tissue.

"– or even peanut oil. It's really
important. Please check," Mark was saying to a hassled-looking woman in an
apron, when he noticed the drawn expression on Claudia's face. "Are you
okay, Claudia? Is something wrong?"

Claudia kept digging around, her eyes
trained on her purse. She shook her head. "No, I'm fine. I guess I'm a
little overwrought, that's all."

Poor Claudia. Seeing him and talking to
him was upsetting her for some reason. That, and whatever else it was that was
wrong with her that made her appear so ill. Something terrible.