Twenty-Eight Noah
twenty-eight
Noah
Noah pressed his ear against the door, but his room was silent.
He didn’t know why he was sneaking around.
It wasn’t like you could tell the bag was full of condoms from the outside.
But Jake had a habit of thinking any unmarked bag might contain something exciting for him, and Noah really didn’t want to explain what lube was to his son.
Not right now, at least, not unless Jake asked.
He knew one day he would be doing that. His own father had given him absolutely zero sex education, just a bunch of fire and brimstone and shame, and Noah was determined that he’d never make Jake feel uncomfortable or ashamed talking about sex.
Well, no more than the usual awkwardness. They were from Missouri, after all.
Though, if Jake moved here, who knew where he’d be getting his sex ed?
Maybe Europeans taught it better. Maybe Jake would become friends with a bunch of sophisticated Italian children who wore scarves and striped shirts and sat around smoking and drinking espressos and drawing in Moleskines, even though the texture of Moleskines was all wrong for sketching.
Noah shook himself, unlocked the door—all clear—and ran to his dresser to hide his evidence. Just in time.
“Noah? That you?” Angela knocked on the door connecting their rooms.
“Yup! Got the medicine!” He double-checked he definitely had the medicine bag in hand, not the sex bag, and yes, he was good. “How’s Jake doing?”
“I’m fine,” Jake huffed, opening the door and practically stomping in. “Not that you care.”
Where in the world had that come from?
“Jakey. Of course I care.”
But Jake crossed his arms and refused to so much as glance at Noah.
Noah met Angela’s eyes. What happened?
Angela’s eyebrows raised. Beats me.
Noah shook his head and knelt by his son.
“Jake? Buddy? Will you look at me?”
Jake did, and then looked away again. “What?”
“I care about you more than anything in the world. That’s why I went to get you medicine.”
Guilt gnawed at Noah’s insides, though. He had taken a detour.
He’d thought Jake was fine. But this is what he got for being selfish.
“I’m sorry. I love you, buddy.”
“Love you, too,” Jake muttered.
Noah bit his lip and tried not to take it personally.
He left Jake on the bed and stepped into Angela’s room, closing the door and keeping his voice low.
“What is going on with him?”
“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” Angela retied her ponytail. “I hate to ask when he’s in this kind of mood, but can you take him for the day? I’ve got some things to take care of.”
“You do?” Noah had figured, now that Jake was on his feet again, it was back to the Death March of Fun.
“Nonno recommended an immigration lawyer for me to talk to, and she had an opening today, and I just thought… well. Better to take the chance while I have it.”
An immigration lawyer.
Noah’s mouth went dry. Suddenly Angela’s move felt a million times more real.
“Oh. Okay.” Noah swallowed. This was happening way too fast. “I’ll find something for us to do.”
Assuming Jake would actually go with him.
He stepped back into his room to find Jake still sitting on the bed, looking all glum, his hand under his chin like The Thinker .
“You want some medicine, buddy?”
Jake shook his head.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay.”
Noah sat next to Jake, chanced a hand on Jake’s shoulder. At least he didn’t pull away.
“What’s going on, buddy? What did I do?”
“Nothing.” But Jake sniffed. Wiped at the corner of his eye.
Noah’s heart threatened to snap in two. He never wanted Jake to hide his tears. He’d told Jake time and time again it was okay for boys to cry, for them to cry in front of each other . So why was Jake hiding them now?
He couldn’t hold them for long, though. Noah pulled Jake in closer as he cried.
“I don’t want Mom to move.”
Noah winced.
“Me neither, buddy.” He wished he knew what to say. Wished he could make everything better. Wished he knew how to keep their lives from changing. But he couldn’t.
All he could do was hold his son and let him cry.
Once Jake had cried himself out, Noah convinced him to take some of the medicine for diarrhea.
“Want to go out somewhere? We can do whatever you want,” he said.
Jake gave him a sly look. “Can we go to the Lego Store?”
“We can go, but we’re not buying anything. All right?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” Jake ran for the door to grab his shoes. Noah sighed.
What was he going to do with his son?
At least it sounded like he wasn’t sold on this whole Italy thing. A spark of hope flared in Noah’s chest. Maybe Jake would want to stay with him. Maybe…
Noah’s phone buzzed.
Ramin
When can I see you again?
Noah held back a grin, but not very successfully.
When could he see Ramin again?
But no. He needed to focus on Jake. He’d have to ask for a little time. He’d have to—
“Is that Ramin?”
Noah hadn’t even noticed Jake clamber back onto the bed until Jake grabbed onto him to look over his shoulder.
“What? Uh. Yeah, buddy. I was just about to tell him you and I were busy.”
“Can he come to the Lego Store with us?”
“You just saw him this morning,” Noah said automatically. He needed to focus on Jake. Spend this time together, just the two of them.
“So? I can see him again. I bet he likes the Lego Store.”
Noah was ready to say no. Though if he and Ramin were going to have any kind of future, Ramin would have to get used to being flexible, to shifting plans if they needed to shift, to taking Jake’s needs into account, too.
Maybe it was better to find out if he could do that sooner rather than later.
Noah thumbed his cross. “You like Ramin, huh?”
“Yeah. He has an awesome face. And awesome tattoos!”
Noah laughed. He liked Ramin’s face and tattoos, too. And his hands. And his mouth…
Noah needed to rein himself in.
He glanced toward Angela’s door. She’d just told him she was worried about throwing too much change at Jake.
But she was doing the same. And she hadn’t been the one to hold him while he cried about it.
Noah deserved to move forward too, didn’t he? And unlike Angela, he was inviting Jake along for the ride.
“All right, buddy. I’ll ask him.”
“Tell him they probably have Spider-Man ones!”
Noah
Depends. Want to go to the Lego Store this afternoon? With me and Jake?
He says they probably have Spider-Man.
A light rain had swept through around lunchtime, but the streets were already dry again. The air smelled crisp and fresh as Noah strolled down the streets, Jake’s hand in his.
“I like your socks,” Jake said.
Noah was wearing bright pink ankle socks with his white sneakers, along with a white polo shirt and black shorts that fell below his knee.
He thought they might try to take a tour of the Duomo after the Lego Store; they’d only walked by the outside on the Death March of Fun.
The Duomo’s dress code said no knees or shoulders showing.
With a start, he realized he hadn’t mentioned it to Ramin.
What if Ramin showed up in those shorts of his, the ones Noah liked, the ones that were definitely above the knee and technically against the dress code?
Not that Noah didn’t want to see him in those shorts again. Or out of them.
Except he was with Jake. This was a family outing. Not a… hookup felt crass. Rendezvous?
Afternoon delight?
Whatever. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t happening.
“You look sharp too, buddy.” Jake was in a white polo shirt of his own, with jean shorts and a pair of Spider-Man socks peeking above his sneakers.
“Thanks.”
Noah finally spotted the bright yellow brick sign for the Lego Store at the end of the block; Jake saw it a moment later and took off running.
“Jakey! Wait!”
But Jake had too much of a head start. And besides, Noah realized who he was running to: Ramin stood beneath the big yellow brick, waiting for them.
He wore an azure button-up short-sleeved shirt and white shorts that definitely hit below the knee but somehow still made his legs and behind look absolutely delicious.
Before Noah could stop him, Jake ran up and threw his arms around Ramin’s waist. Ramin’s eyebrows popped up above his sunglasses, and he looked toward Noah for a second before wrapping Jake in a hug. Apparently they’d moved past fist bumps.
Noah thought he would melt into a puddle on the spot as Ramin hugged his son.
“Hey,” Ramin said. He let go of Jake and pushed his sunglasses up into his hair. His eyes sparkled in the sun.
Noah wanted to reach for him and pull him into a kiss hello, but he didn’t know if they were doing that yet and he didn’t know if they were doing that in front of Jake yet.
He hadn’t dated since the divorce, and as far as he knew, Angela hadn’t either, so they’d never really talked about how to introduce new partners to Jake.
A thrill ran up his spine. Partners.
Him and Ramin.
It could happen, couldn’t it? Maybe. If the stars aligned. If they figured all this out.
In the end, Noah settled for a one-armed hug, and if his lips happened to graze Ramin’s cheek, well, that was just how Italians did it.
“Come on. Let’s see what they have!” Jake said, grabbing Ramin’s hand and dragging him into the store.
Ramin gave Noah a look that either meant This is hilarious or Help me! —he wasn’t sure yet.
Noah half expected Ramin to get impatient as Jake slowly went from shelf to shelf, admiring Lego sets he’d admired a hundred times before, at the Lego Store back home.
But if Ramin was annoyed, he didn’t show it.
He nodded sagely as Jake explained which sets he already had and compared notes about the Lego themes he’d had when he was a child himself.
“What about you?” Ramin asked.
Noah blinked. “Me?”
“Yeah. Did you have a collection growing up?”
“Not really.” He’d had a few sets, but his mother always complained about finding stray bricks, and his dad thought Noah should’ve been playing with G.I. Joes or He-Man figures instead. Even though, looking back, He-Man was pretty homoerotic. “But Jake lets me help him build, sometimes.”