Chapter 7 Noah
Noah
“She had on what?”
“You heard me.”
“I’m not sure that I did,” I laughed.
“A flowered skirt.”
“Oh, that’s some Woolworth shit right there!”
“I said Conway,” Crystal spoke between clenched teeth.
“Same difference.”
“Okay, enough, Noah. We can’t spend our entire conversation talking about Geneva. And besides, she’s our best friend, so it ain’t right.”
“You’re right, Crystal. Okay, next subject. You getting any yet?”
“Next subject.”
“Okay, then that is a clear no.”
“I said next subject, Noah!”
“Hmm, Zhan and I are getting new neighbors.”
“Really? What happened to the old man next door?”
“He died.”
“Oh, sorry to hear about that.”
“I ain’t. He was a pain in my perfect ass!”
“Noah, that’s not nice.”
“Well he wasn’t nice to me. I still swear I heard him call me a nigger.”
“You never told me that.”
“A sand nigger.”
“A sand nigger?”
“Yeah, that’s what they call the Arabs here.”
“That’s terrible…. He thought you were an Arab?”
“I guess so. This process in my hair, along with the sallow-looking color my skin has taken on since we don’t get any friggin’ sun here must have led him to believe—Oh, don’t let me get started.”
I didn’t want to rant and rave about the London weather, the lack of sun, or the fact that I was about to go bonkers holed up in that fucking flat all day long.
At first, being a kept man was fabulous, but that got old fast. So my lover, Zhan, made a few phone calls for me—he knows the entire world—and got me a design gig with Sola Fashions.
Now, I hadn’t been in the creative part of the business for decades.
When I went to FIT umpteen years ago, my teachers could have bet their pensions that I was going to be the next Ralph Lauren—my designs were that fabulous—but I took a different track and ended up on the merchandising side of the industry.
So when Zhan told me to pull out my portfolio and take my little cute ass over to Sola, I whirled on him and asked him if he’d lost his ever-loving mind! The drawings in my portfolio were over twenty years old and I’d kept the damn thing only for nostalgia’s sake!
But my baby, quick as a whip and sharp as a blade, took my face in his hands, leaned in close, and said, “Exactly, darling. All of that stuff has come right back around again.”
No truer words had ever been spoken! Fashion is so repetitive.
Sola allowed me to work from home. Which was wonderful because I didn’t have to deal with office politics or attitudes.
I took my daily walks, sometimes caught a movie or a yoga class, but really and truly, what I really needed was more hours of companionship than Zhan could give me.
I was so starved for company that I behaved like a happy puppy when Zhan walked through the door every evening.
My tail just a-wagging as I jumped all over him. It was sick.
But that was about to change because it had come down the grapevine that a multiracial gay couple was moving into the vacant flat next door, and it was said that one of the pair worked at home, just like me!
Finally some company!
“Anyway, there’s a gay couple moving into the old man’s apartment.”
“Really? Have you met them?”
“Yeah, I met Aldo. Aldo Randello. He’s older, Italian.
A very handsome, white-haired gentleman with the body of a weight lifter.
I think he might be a financier. I’m not sure, though.
He was pleasant enough, but not overly friendly.
His mate, well, I’ve only seen him from the window.
I haven’t had a chance to introduce myself.
He’s a gorgeous black man. Much younger than the Italian.
I think Aldo said his partner’s name was Ray-Ray. ”
“Ray-Ray? Ray-Ray and Aldo?” Crystal blurted out in between her reeling laugh. “Now that doesn’t even sound right! In fact it sounds like a bad sitcom or the name of two radio hacks that work the lonely two-to-six morning slot on some forgotten AM station!”
I looked at the phone and shook my head. Pressing the receiver back to my ear, I said, “Well, shit, I don’t care if their names are Frick and Frack. I finally got me some homosexual company right next door.”
“I guess that’s all that matters,” Crystal breathed. “So when are you coming back for a visit? I miss you.”
“Oh, maybe at the end of the summer. I need to get on a plane right now and come there ’cause Miss Drama ain’t paid me a dime in rent for three months.”
“Noah, are you surprised?”
“Well, I guess not.”
“We told you not to leave Chevy in your house. You’ll have to evict her to get her out, you know.”
“I know.”
Beep. You have one minute left for this call.
“Well, that’s about it, Noah. I’m about to get cut off.”
“I’ll call you next week.”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you more.”