Eight Noah
eight
Noah
Noah’s head was pleasantly fuzzy. He wasn’t exactly a practiced drinker.
Not that he didn’t like wine—he and Angela used to have a glass each with dinner most nights—but since the divorce he hadn’t drunk much.
So now, half a bottle—combined with jet lag and probably a little dehydration—had him happy and loose.
He felt young and carefree with the evening breeze in his hair and an old friend beside him, laughing like they were the only two people in the world. For a moment, Noah could almost forget about Angela wanting to move here. About Jake maybe moving with her.
Noah swallowed. Did wine always make him so maudlin?
He was so caught up, he nearly walked right into a busy intersection. He halted, throwing up his arm, because Ramin was following him.
“Oop, careful.” Ramin’s chest bumped against him before he stopped, but Ramin broke the contact right away.
He’d been like that all night, if their legs accidentally brushed under the table, or if their hands touched while reaching for the wine bottle.
Noah didn’t know if Ramin was worried he was a homophobe—a valid fear, given Noah’s parents, though an unfounded one, given Noah’s bisexuality—or if he was still hurting from his breakup and didn’t want to touch anyone.
Or if it was some secret third thing. Noah had showered before dinner, so he knew he didn’t smell weird.
“It says don’t walk.” Noah pointed.
“There’s no one coming.” Ramin gestured. “And the locals don’t wait.”
Noah glanced up and down the street; sure enough, there were no cars around. He didn’t mind waiting, though. He didn’t want to say bye to Ramin just yet, even though he knew he needed to get back.
He cleared his throat. “Well, I try to set a good example for Jake.”
“Okay. We can wait.”
Noah swayed a bit as they waited, accidentally brushing Ramin’s shoulder, and Ramin stepped away again. Noah stuffed down his annoyance. Not everyone was cool with casual platonic touch, even if most men were starved for it. One thing he missed most about his marriage was the cuddles.
Finally the light changed and they crossed. He wished he could’ve brushed Ramin’s hand. Thrown an arm over his shoulder. Anything. But Ramin was freshly heartbroken, and he had to respect Ramin’s boundaries. He’d made it clear: no touching.
He could talk, at least. He liked talking to Ramin. Ramin was easy to talk to. He always had been.
Easy to talk to, and smart, and interesting. Screw Ramin’s ex for saying he was boring. Ramin wasn’t boring. He was funny. He was thoughtful. He was amazing.
“It’s really brave, you know,” Noah said. “I mean, you are really brave. For doing all this.”
“It was this or stay home and stare at the missing furniture,” Ramin muttered.
Noah imagined it, and a pang lanced through his chest. He couldn’t stand the thought of someone breaking Ramin’s heart. He wanted to gather up all the pieces and fit them back together. He wanted to frame it, reinforce it, so it was impervious.
He never wanted anyone to hurt Ramin ever again.
He’d always felt protective of Ramin, back when they were in school, back when half the senior class seemed to like picking on Ramin for no reason other than he was Iranian. Noah had tried his best, but he couldn’t be everywhere.
And now Ramin was a grown man who had his life together way more than Noah did. So it wasn’t like he could really shield Ramin from anything, anyway. All he could do was commiserate.
“I remember when I moved out and into my own place. Everything just felt hollow.” Some small part of him still felt that hollowness.
The part that spoke in his father’s voice, telling him he was a failure of a man for not holding his family together, for not keeping to his wedding vows, for not giving Jake a stable home.
“What happened?” Ramin asked, looking his way, but his eyes widened. Noah tried to fix his stormy face, but Ramin already had his hands up. “God, sorry. Not my business.”
Noah shook his head. “It’s fine. You told me about your breakup.” With that jerk , he wanted to add but didn’t.
Noah thumbed at his cross. His mom had gotten it for him…
he couldn’t even remember when. He hadn’t spoken to either of his parents in three years, ever since that night he’d gone to pick up Jake and he’d found his son crying because his mother had given Jake an unwanted haircut, complaining his hair was getting too long for a boy .
Granted, there’d been plenty of crap before that.
They’d judged him weak for leaving their church, finding a new one, a kinder one.
And they’d judged him heretical for marrying a Catholic, even though Angela was long-since lapsed.
They’d even judged him unmanly for being a stay-at-home dad, when Angela made three times more than him.
All of that, Noah could handle. He was used to his parents’ judgment.
But they’d foist that judgment upon Jake over his dead body.
Jake had said no, and they had ignored it, and there was no going back after that.
But still, still, he kept that little silver cross around his neck. It felt like the memory of love, pressed against his sternum.
His parents hadn’t been all awful.
Ramin was still waiting for him to explain, his face lit by the glow from a grocery store as they passed. Noah took a deep breath.
“I think we just fell out of love. There was no big thing, and we weren’t fighting, but somewhere along the way we stopped making each other happy.”
“Did she ask or did you?” Ramin asked quietly.
“She did.” She’d been right. And she’d been brave, to finally bring it up, when Noah had been too scared of change to do it.
“I’m sorry,” Ramin said.
“It’s fine, it—” Noah caught his toe on the uneven cobbles of the street. He nearly fell, but a strong hand grabbed his arm and pulled him back up. The momentum brought him face-to-face, chest to chest with Ramin.
Noah forgot how to breathe.
This time, Ramin didn’t spring away. Up close, his eyes were jade fire kindled in the streetlamps, beautiful and sad and keen, like they’d seen all the hurt the world had to offer but refused to give up. Life’s pains hadn’t turned Ramin brittle but somehow soft and gentle.
And Noah’s chest filled with fire again, thinking of the man who’d dumped Ramin for being boring .
How could any man look at Ramin’s stunning eyes, or see the confidence he carried himself with, or hear his clear, strong voice, and think he was boring ?
How could anyone look at Ramin and not want to know more , want to know everything about him?
Noah still had about a million more questions.
A firm hand squeezed Noah’s bicep. Ramin was talking to him.
“You okay?” Ramin asked. His lips were thin, creased in concern, stained plum from the wine. Noah wondered what they tasted like. Which was irrational and inappropriate to think about an old friend you hadn’t seen in years and who just wanted to catch up and was getting over a heartbreak.
But they were so pretty .
Noah was morally opposed to any form of corporal punishment, but he wished someone would smack him upside the head, just to help him focus.
“Yeah. Just tripped.” Noah shook his head. “I think I’m buzzed. I don’t usually drink that much.”
Ramin blushed and let go of him, leaving Noah chilled at the sudden absence. Maybe Ramin was cold, too, because he shivered as he rubbed at one of his tattoos. “In your defense, none of the sidewalks are even here. I tripped twice on the way home from gelato, totally sober.”
Ramin turned down the sidewalk once more, leaving Noah with a view of his strong backside.
Noah shook himself. Not appropriate! He took a couple long strides to catch up.
“What were you saying earlier?”
“Hm?” Noah tried to remember.
“About the divorce?”
Noah rewound their conversation as best he could, even though his mental image seemed to go into slo-mo at the part with Ramin’s lips.
“I think I was just gonna say it was painful but it got better. For all of us. Jake is happy, Angela’s happy.” He waved vaguely in the direction of the hotel, to his sleeping son and ex-wife. “I’m doing okay too.”
Ramin frowned then, a little line appearing between his heavy brows, shadowing his eyes. Noah didn’t like it when he couldn’t see the light in Ramin’s eyes.
“Just okay?”
Noah hadn’t meant to admit that, but somehow Ramin drew the truth like a magnet.
“I just…” He pinched his cross and tried to put it into words. “Angela’s a lawyer, so I was a stay-at-home dad. And I knew who I was and what I was supposed to do. I was a husband. I was a father. I was a son, until I stopped talking to my parents. But now…”
Now Jake was getting older and didn’t need him as much. And half the time he was mad at Noah anyway. And he might be moving to Italy.
Noah loved being Jake’s dad. It was the most important thing in his life. But maybe he needed to figure out how to be more than that.
“Now what?” Ramin asked.
“I don’t know. I guess maybe I’m trying to find a new me.” He sighed. “I need to show Jake there’s more to life than just working and parenting and going to the gym.”
“It’s working for you, though,” Ramin muttered, then blushed. “God, I’m buzzed too.”
But Noah’s chest fluttered. Ramin thought he looked good?
He laughed, and that made Ramin laugh, and the heaviness over them seemed to recede a bit. Tonight was supposed to be fun, not maudlin.
Ramin’s steps slowed as they approached another crosswalk. “I’m that way,” he said, pointing to the right, but Noah’s hotel was to the left.
“I’m that way.” Where had the night gone? Why did it have to end? “I’m really glad I ran into you again.”
“Me too. I’m glad you got hungry.” Ramin gifted him another smile, dimples deeply shadowed in the orange streetlight. “I had fun catching up. Say hi to Jake and Angela for me.”
“For sure.” Noah rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t want to say goodbye. It wasn’t even that late, really. The night was still young, and it felt like magic, being here. Like a second chance he didn’t know he wanted. A change he never knew he needed. But he didn’t know how to seize it.
Maybe they could keep walking? See the city at night? Noah cursed himself for not being better at drinking, because if he was, maybe they could’ve gone to a bar, or just stayed at the restaurant, or—
Noah’s phone buzzed. Jake’s cheesing face flashed on his screen.
“Ah, sorry. Gotta take this.” He pressed answer. “Hey, Jake. Did you get some rest?”
“Yeah. But I’m hungry.”
Noah caught Ramin watching him, eyes twinkling. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I can go.”
Noah shook his head. He didn’t want Ramin to go. He held up a hand and mouthed, Wait?
Then, aloud, “I’m on my way back. We’ll get you something. Okay?”
“Okay. Did you know they have American shows here, too? Can I watch TV?”
Noah ran a hand through his hair. He and Angela hadn’t even talked about screen time rules for while they were overseas. Plus Jake would still need to go back to bed and try to get on a good sleep schedule.
Was Angela even awake? Or would she sleep straight through?
He turned back to Ramin, who mouthed, I better go , and gestured down the street.
Noah wanted to reach out and take his hand, hold him in place, at least get a proper hug goodbye, but—
“Dad? You there?”
“Huh? Yeah, Jakey?”
“Remember how you promised we could have mac and cheese?”
“I didn’t promise, Jake. You can’t put words into my mouth.”
“But you said—”
Noah pinched the bridge of his nose. Ramin was backing away, waving at him.
It felt like someone had poured cold water over him.
He wanted to say a proper goodbye.
He didn’t want to say goodbye at all.
But he gave a little wave.
Ramin Yazdani smiled and turned and walked out of his life again.
Noah took a deep breath. Jake had no way of knowing he was interrupting anything. Noah kept his voice even. “Why don’t we talk about this when I get back. Okay, Jakey? I’m not far.”
“You promise?”
“I promise we’ll talk . Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Be there soon. Love you.”