A Just-Friends Holiday

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YDB95
YDB95
579 Followers

"If only you knew." Mark pulled the in-flight magazine out of the pouch and started flipping through it, refusing to make eye contact with Allison for the moment.

Allison tried to make the best of the uncomfortable situation on the taxi ride to the hotel. But it only got more uncomfortable when they arrived at the hotel and she asked for a room change. "Sorry," said the desk attendant without even looking. "We're booked solid. Besides, you two will just love our Valentine's Day Special, I promise!"

"I'm sure we will, ma'am," Mark said with what Allison knew was his sarcastic grin.

The desk attendant didn't know, and only handed him the key cards with a smile. "Welcome to paradise," she said. "And happy Valentine's Day. Don't miss our couples' night at the café tomorrow!"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world!" Mark said, and he flashed a smirk at Allison, who managed a thank-you smile at the attendant and then picked up her suitcase to carry to the elevator.

As soon as the elevator door closed on them, Allison turned to Mark. "Mark, I'm sorry," she said.

"Let's just enjoy it for what it is," Mark said, looking straight ahead rather than at her. "We've got a week in the tropics, and I trust we can handle the sleeping situation like the adults we are."

"Of course," Allison said. "But I mean, you're my best friend at work, and - "

"And that wouldn't have happened if you'd known I was straight, I know."

"No!" Allison protested. But now that she'd heard it, she began to wonder if he was right.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Honestly, I guess I'm not, Mark. But all I was saying was, I don't want this to spoil that."

"It won't. But I'm a little upset, Allison. Please just let me be upset for now, okay?"

The elevator door opened, and they stepped out into the hallway without another word. Allison was mollified with his last comment, and figured with the issue of the single bed out in the open at least, things couldn't get any worse.

As Mark opened the door and ushered her into their room, she saw otherwise. The bed was festooned with brightly colored flowers in the shape of a heart. The desk held a bottle of red wine with two glasses and a small box of chocolates, with a sign reading, "Our compliments for those in love. Aloha and happy Valentine's Day!" Worst of all, there was no couch.

"Oh, God," Allison muttered, staring in disbelief at the sicky sweet display.

"I forbid you to cry!" Mark said, almost in his old-self voice. Setting down his suitcase, he added, "Let's to do that heart what you'd like to do to that brat Todd if he were here, shall we?"

To her immense relief, Allison found herself laughing. She finally allowed herself a look at Mark to see he was looking much happier. "Yes," she said. "Let's go!"

They both dove onto the bed and scooped up handfuls of the flowers, and shredded the petals off every last one, then threw them all over the room. The frenzy lasted less than a minute, but it was wonderfully cathartic and Allison felt a lot better once it was done. As she brushed the last mutilated flower off the bedspread, she turned to Mark. "Thank you," she said, and she tried to hug him.

"You're very welcome." But he backed off the bed and stood up before she could touch him. "Listen, I'm just going to go to bed, okay? Jetlag and all that. If you want to go down for a drink or something..."

"No, I should get some sleep, too," Allison said, smiling through her hurt feelings. "But, I mean, we should talk about --"

"Tomrorow, Allison."

"Not that. I mean we should talk about sleeping arrangements."

"It's a king-sized bed, Allison. There's plenty of room for us both, and I trust you don't think I'm going to rape you in your sleep."

"Mark!"

"What?! We're adults, we're friends, and didn't you invite me along specifically because you thought I wouldn't be the least bit interested in you that way?"

"Yes, of course." Allison got up off the bed. "Fine, of course we can share the bed."

"I'll change in the bathroom, and you change here. Just call me when you're done." He gathered something up out of his suitcase and stepped into the bathroom without another word.

Allison opened her suitcase and found the red silk nightie she'd bought just for the trip, and for Todd. She'd thought seriously about destroying it in some entertaining fashion since then, but it just seemed too pretty and comfortable to go to waste just because Todd was gone. As she undressed, she looked out the window at the ocean -- barely visible through the glass with the light on inside, but she could make out a wave now and then -- and vowed to make the best of the trip. Certainly it was clear that Mark wasn't going to bother her with any reminders of the holiday. And she was, after all, still here with one of her closest friends. Nothing had really changed, she told herself.

Once she had her nightgown on, Allison carefully stowed her underwear out of sight in her suitcase, and it occurred to her that she'd have done the same had she been right about Mark, if only because that was one part of her wardrobe that he'd never had the chance to criticize before. That realization made her chuckle a bit as she called out, "Coast is clear, Mark!"

"Okay," he replied, and opened the bathroom door.

It occurred to Allison a moment too late that her nipples were probably poking out through the silk. She had just enough time to look down and see that they were indeed visible before he appeared in the doorway in his own red silk pajamas, a shade or so darker than hers and quite attractive.

Smiling through her embarrassment -- It isn't as if he doesn't know you have breasts, she reminded herself -- she said, "So you couldn't get away from red either, could you?"

"Sorry," Mark said, drawing back the covers on his side of the bed. "I've had these for a while, and it didn't occur to me that it'd be a problem. But I see it isn't, huh?"

"I got this for Todd," she confessed. "And I couldn't bear to let it go to waste."

"Good for you not giving him another victory, then," Mark said. "And you're right, it looks fabulous."

"Thank you!" Allison could think of nothing else to say, and was relieved to realize how comfortable she felt now as she gathered up her toiletry kit and went into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

Mark had turned off all the lights except the one by her side of the bed when she returned. She turned it off just before climbing in on her side. He was right, there was ample room for them both. In her conciliatory mood, she wanted to reach out and at least hold his hand. But he'd made it clear that wasn't welcome.

"Good night, Mark, and I'm sorry."

"Good night, and apology accepted."

Morning brought a dazzling tropical sunrise and breakfast at a beachside café and yet another poignant reminder that Allison had planned on sharing it with Todd. But Mark put a fast end to her self-pity as only he could do. "Nice outfit," he said when he arrived at their table, having waited for her to shower and dress first. Then, with a grin, "I hope I'm still allowed to say that."

"Of course you are," Allison said with a guilty laugh. She had bought the blue and white sundress especially for the trip, and it happened to match her favorite swimsuit, which she'd had the foresight to put on underneath. "And thank you. But you know, that's one of a million questions I have for you now, Mark."

"Yes, well," Mark said with a tentative smile. After a pause to sip his coffee, he continued, "You can ask them all later. I'm off to the Bishop Museum and Iolani Palace for the day. I've always promised myself that'd be the first thing I'd do if I ever got here."

"Museums on our first day, Mark?" Allison asked. "Well, I was looking forward to the beach first thing, but I guess that can wait."

"Allison, I said I am off to the museum. Not we. I."

"Mark!" Allison stood up as well, frustrated. "I apologized, didn't I?"

"And I accepted." Mark's face softened a bit, and he almost smiled. "But I'm feeling a little bit...I don't know, confused, all right? I'd like some time to myself. And I know you're not big on museums anyway, Allison."

Allison looked down at the table. Though she was hurt and a little annoyed, she had to admit that he was right. She hadn't even thought to look into anything touristy to do for the week, besides lying on the beach.

"I think you could use some time alone, too, if you don't mind my saying so," Mark continued. "You did come here to get away from everything, after all. Especially guys."

Allison chuckled. Only Mark could pull that line off.

"Get some sun," Mark said upon finishing his fruit salad, when he got up to leave. "You'll feel better, and I think I will, too. See you this afternoon, maybe?"

"Yeah." Allison didn't look up. "Have a nice time, Mark."

"Thank you." His smile looked sincere as he turned and left, at least.

Allison sat back down and flagged down the waiter for another coffee, and immediately regretted it. Nothing worse than being left with your own guilty conscience in paradise, she realized as she sipped the hot beverage and gazed out at the waves. It did at least give her time to realize she didn't want to spend the day lounging on the sand with only her thoughts for company.

A query about alternatives at the front desk yielded a recommendation for the beach walk shops, and she was off to spend the morning and early afternoon browsing mindlessly. A bit like the mall back home with palm trees, and there were more unsubtle reminders of Valentine's Day everywhere including lovey-dovey couples in every shop. But it was a beautiful tropical day and Todd was thousands of miles away in the snow and ice, and Allison put it all from her mind.

Still and all, she was feeling troubled about Mark. As she stopped for lunch and sipped on a garish yellow drink and ignored the usual attention from the single guys at the bar, she admitted to herself that she was still feeling conflicted about him. What had changed? Had Mark been any less a gentleman and a dear friend to her for the past year? Had he ever lied to her? Certainly it must have occurred to him that he was misleading her; that must have been what had inspired that "If only you knew" on the plane...if only she knew what?

What she did now, Allison concluded, was that nothing had really changed except her own perspective. That left her in a much better frame of mind for an afternoon on the beach, and a reunion with Mark whenever he showed up. The thought of seeing her coworker in his swimming garb and vice versa now took on a whole new meaning, of course, but she found that tickled her fancy far more than it bothered her. What if, all these months, Mark had liked what he'd seen?

She had an hour and change on the beach with her latest mindless novel to wonder about that -- and to allow herself to admit for the first time that she had always liked what she'd seen. Mustn't get too carried away, she reminded herself again and again as she turned the pages and admired the occasional passing guy out of the corner of her eye. But it was no use. Here she was in paradise on Valentine's Day with her dearest male friend...maybe they should get carried away?

"How's the book?"

Allison was a little embarrassed and a lot relieved to look up and see her coworker smiling down at her in her bikini, not to mention pleased that he was dressed just as skimpily as she was. His chest and legs were just as gorgeous as she'd always imagined, and he seemed to like what he saw as well. "Welcome back!" she said. She set the book down and sat up, hoping he would join her on the blanket. He did. "How were the museums?" she said, forcing herself to look in his eyes -- it wasn't easy, especially now that she knew the attraction might be mutual.

"Wonderful, but do you really want to talk about that, Allison?"

"I said I was sorry, Mark."

"I know! I didn't mean it that way! I just meant perhaps you feel I owe you an explanation."

"An explanation of why you must have known you were making me think you were gay and you never told me you weren't? Well, you don't owe me that or anything else, but I sure am curious, Mark."

"That's fair," Mark said. "The short answer is, I feel it'd be a little homophobic if I did do that, you know? Like I'd be saying it's a bad thing to even appear gay. But I also feel like it means I'm supposed to apologize for being a straight guy who happens to like these things."

"I suppose you've had a lot of other people think the same thing I did, huh?" Allison said.

"The ex I was telling you about last night?"

"That was her reaction, too, was it?"

"A lot worse than yours, let's just leave it at that." Mark paused and looked out at the legion of beach bums, and Allison got the impression he was struggling to avoid looking too closely at her body. "Some nonsense about how I was only trying to manipulate women into falling in love with me and then I planned on some big reveal. Which is nonsense if you happen to wonder."

"Of course I never thought that," Allison said. "I just figured you were unlucky in love like I was. Though I couldn't imagine why!" She couldn't help giving him the once-over. "Sorry to gawk over you, Mark, but you're...looking really good." She giggled a bit.

"Thank you, and the feeling is mutual," he said. "Nice swimsuit."

Allison sighed. "Thanks, but that's another thing..."

"That I'm not clueless about women's clothing? I don't know, Allison, I always just envied how beautiful and graceful women looked, and learning something about the clothes went with that. I guess."

Allison nodded, and opted not to add that she didn't feel very graceful just now. "And the musicals, Mark?"

"Christ, I hate Valentine's Day," Mark said. "Want to go for a swim?"

Allison stood up and helped Mark to his feet, and reluctantly let go of his hand as they strolled down to the water. "Sorry if I triggered something," she said as they waded into the warm surf. "But what does your taste in music have to do with Valentine's Day?"

Mark laughed as he came to a stop waist-deep in the water. "Back in middle school," he began. "I joined the choir, and I have to admit it was mostly so I'd be surrounded by girls. There were over thirty of them and maybe six of us boys. Of course that no doubt had the usual suspects thinking I was gay, and that was the first and last time I made a point of telling anyone I wasn't. Some jerk on the football team called me gay, and I reminded him of where we both went after school."

"Where you both went?"

"Yeah. I went to our concerts around the city, sharing the bus with all those girls in their nice frilly dresses, and sometimes we'd fall asleep on the way back and I'd wake up with my head resting in places the guys on the football team could only imagine, and meanwhile he was showering with a bunch of other sweaty, naked guys in the locker room!"

Allison laughed. "How exactly did you avoid getting beaten to a pulp?"

"I didn't. I think I nursed that black eye for a week at least. But it was worth it. Anyway, I think that was the first time I thought, you know, it really shouldn't matter if I'm gay or not just because I have these feminine tastes. That's why I never told anyone I wasn't gay again."

"That and you didn't want another black eye."

"Of course." Mark joined in on Allison's laugh, and continued. "Anyway. The choir. Everyone makes a fool of him- or herself for love at least once in junior high, and my time came when the eighth grade dance rolled around. A freakin' abomination if ever there was one!"

"Oh, don't remind me," Allison agreed, an image of her own ill-fated date with the trombone player in the school band flitting through her mind...he'd been just at eye-level with her breasts, and she'd never heard the last of it from his friends. "What was your date's name?"

"Her name was Celia Poirier, but she wasn't my date!" Mark confessed. "I barely knew her, but I didn't have a date and I'd always thought she was kind of cute. I spent weeks trying to work up the courage to ask, and then I had to go and do it in the choir room just after the last bell when I thought the rest of her friends were gone. Turns out they were all just coming back from the girls' room, and they walked in just in time to hear her tell me what a slimy, immature little boy I was and how could I think she'd want to go out with me when we barely knew each other anyhow?"

"Oh, Mark!" Suddenly Allison's own memories seemed perfectly desirable.

"It was a moral victory. I didn't cry."

"That's impressive!"

"Thank you. I really don't know how I did it. But I did. Or rather I didn't. Cry. Right. Anyway. I did go to the dance, stag with my friends, and managed not to watch Celia dancing with the jerks she went around with, and I actually had a decent time. But of course, it was years before I tried asking anyone out again! Now, around that same time we were doing a movie musical revue in the choir, and one of the songs was 'Good Morning,' from Babes in Arms with Judy Garland, you know that one?"

"Not the one from Singin' in the Rain?" Allison asked.

"Same song," Mark said. "It wasn't originally from that, but that's the version I remember now too."

"God, my parents used to watch that movie twice a year at least!" Allison recalled. "I got to know the songs a lot better than I really wanted to. Just how did it go? Good morning..."

"Good morrrr-ning!" Mark joined in, and they continued together. "We've talked a whole night through, "Good morning," "Good morning," "To you!"

"But what's that got to do with this Celia brat who broke your heart?" Allison asked when they'd stopped laughing.

"It was the thing about talking the whole night through," Mark explained. "When you're comfortable enough with someone to do that and never even notice the time? That's love, you know? It's not lust, it's not a teenage crush, it's love. That's what I wanted, and of course at age fourteen that's years and years away, but it gave me something to look forward to about getting older. And it made me fall in love with this lost art of classic musicals."

"And of course you didn't care at all that it was a gay stereotype."

"I didn't know it was! But no, when I did learn, it didn't change my feelings at all. It was just about...mature love, or my idealized vision of it anyway."

"Mark, that's beautiful." Allison wanted to hug him again, but she recalled last night's reaction all too well. "Now, is that what you meant when you said 'if only I knew'?

"If only you knew how many times I've had to put up with people making crazy assumptions just because I like certain things and don't like others," Mark confirmed. "And I'm sorry, Allison, but it did hurt to know you'd been reading me wrong all along when we've become so close."

"Don't expect me to believe it never occurred to you, Mark!"

"Well, of course it did," Mark said. "But I'd have told the truth if you'd asked."

"Not the point!"

"I know, I know. To tell you the truth, Allison, it's just me being who I am, and I get annoyed with people reminding me it's a bunch of gay stereotypes as if I don't know that. Of course I know it. And..."

"And?" Allison sensed a major breakthrough.

"And it pisses off Steve and his gang."

Allison laughed and couldn't resist throwing herself at him. "Good answer! Anything to keep those assholes off your back, huh?"

"Exactly."

He returned her hug, giving Allison a delightful wave of butterflies. Once the pleasant shock of the moment wore off, she grew a bit nervous about the situation. "Mark, I'm sorry...is this uncomfortable for you?" But she didn't make any move to let him go yet.

YDB95
YDB95
579 Followers