Love Turns the Page

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

AS HE LED NOAH to his car, Tom’s brain was working overtime. Cindy had told him that her coworker was cute, but he hadn’t expected the guy to be drop-dead gorgeous. Out of the corner of one eye, he’d noticed Noah approaching the organ console and had taken in the vitals at a glance: blond, slim, tall, extremely good-looking, intelligent face, etcetera. He hadn’t noted the green eyes until they’d made eye contact during the page turning. He’d also noticed Noah staring at him as he emerged from the shower room. The guy actually blushed as he averted his eyes. Hmm, he thought. I wonder what was going on behind those green eyes?

They reached his reserved parking space, and he unlocked the car with his clicker. As they pulled out of the church parking lot, Tom said, “I know this old Volvo station wagon isn’t a very sexy car, but it gets me there and back again. More to the point, it’s both reliable and paid for.”

“It’s newer and nicer than my old clunker.”

“Actually, this was my mom’s car. She gave it to me a couple of years ago when she got a new one.”

“That was nice of her.”

“It was more an expression of guilt than a nice gesture.”

“What do you mean?”

“My dad hasn’t gotten over the fact that I refused to become a lawyer like him and join his firm. He’s pretty much written me out of his life and sort of pretends that I don’t exist. He also stopped helping pay for my education when I announced that I was going to major in music. So when his back is turned, Mom makes the odd gesture, like this car.”

“Surely there’s more to it than that.”

“Not really. She just feels bad because she didn’t make enough of an effort to stop Dad from being a total jerk.”

“Maybe he’ll come around one day.”

“After five years, I don’t think so. Besides, my younger brother is acting the perfect little toad and jumping through Dad’s hoops these days.”

“That’s rather cynical.”

“Perhaps, but it’s also painfully accurate.”

Tom decided to take his guest to European Street instead of Biscottis for the simple reason that he wanted to see Noah’s reaction to the sometimes highly charged gay atmosphere at the former. “Ever been here?” Tom said as he pulled into the restaurant parking lot.

“No. I can’t afford to eat out unless it’s the Golden Arches.”

“The struggling college student. Been there, done that.”

In the restaurant, they were seated at a banquette along the rear wall, but not until they’d passed several tables occupied by some very gay men and a few gay women. “This isn’t my favorite restaurant,” Tom said. “It’s just a little too gay for my taste, but the food is good, the service is adequate, and the prices are reasonable.”

“What do you mean when you say ‘too gay’?”

“Did you ever see the movie Mannequin?”

“Sure, it’s one of my favorites.”

“Then you surely remember the black guy named Hollywood in the movie. I’m referring to people like that.”

“Oh yeah,” Noah said.

They ordered sandwiches and Cokes, and he began to quiz Noah. “So where exactly are you from?”

“Live Oak.”

“Wow. That’s over halfway to Tallahassee from here.”

“You forgot to mention that it’s very small and very redneck.”

“That too. So why did you come ninety plus miles to go to a former community college? Don’t they have them in, what would it be, Suwannee County?”

“The main reason is money,” Noah said. “There aren’t many jobs to be found in Suwannee County, and the nearest community college is in Columbia County. But to be totally honest, I had to get away from that environment.”

“Mind if I ask why?”

“My parents are Southern Baptists, and I hate all that hellfire and brimstone crap. Until I turned eighteen, I pretty much had to go to that church every Sunday. I still don’t know how I did it, but I managed to put my foot down when I became a legal adult.”

“How did your family react to your rebellion?”

“Badly, but not as badly as I’d feared. I guess you might say we’ve maintained a sort of uneasy truce over the past year.”

“Anybody back there that you really care about?”

“What do you mean?” Noah said.

“Girlfriend?”

“Not really.”

“What does that mean? Do you have a girlfriend back home or not?”

“There was one girl I mostly went out with, but we never considered ourselves to be a couple or anything,” Noah said. “We sort of hung out together because there wasn’t anybody else around.”

“Boyfriend?”

“A boyfriend! In Live Oak, Florida!” Noah said. “Surely you jest.”

“There must be a few queers back in those woods,” Tom said.

Noah didn’t bat an eyelash at the boyfriend comment. Hmm, he thought. Maybe it’s safe to probe more deeply.

“If there are, they’re extremely well camouflaged. I think they mostly leave town when they figure out they’re gay.”

“What about you, Noah. Are you gay?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I saw the way you looked at my naked body earlier. I’ve seen that kind of look before.”

“I honestly don’t know what I am,” Noah said. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Are you gay?”

“Yes.”

“It doesn’t show. Does anyone know?”

“No,” Tom said, “and it’s nobody’s business. Of course, any single man in my profession is automatically suspect, but I like to keep my personal life personal, if you know what I mean. Actually, I did tell John Cullen, the Rector of the church, when he hired me, but that’s under the seal of the confessional, so to speak.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No. Truth be told, since I started college, I haven’t had much time for any kind of social life. I go to school… I study… I have my job at the church, which involves playing for services every Sunday, plus the odd wedding and funeral, not to mention the adult choir and two choirs of young people. And I give organ lessons to a half-dozen or so students, and I’m beginning to get a second career going, performing in concert in various places. There isn’t much time for anything else. Frankly, if it weren’t for Mrs. Hand and her five daughters, I’d be extremely frustrated.”

That got a chuckle out of Noah, and he said, “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“Where do you live?” Tom said.

“I share an apartment in Riverside with a total asshole.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. You have no idea. He’s loud, obnoxious, and a total slob. I can’t wait to move out.”

“Do you have you a lease?”

“The lease was up last month, and we’re month to month right now. Why?”

“Finish your sandwich. I have something I want to show you.”

“Okay.”

THEY FINISHED THEIR meal in relative silence, and Tom paid the bill. Back in the car, he turned right onto Park Street and headed toward Avondale. He drove in silence until he reached Van Wert Avenue, where he again made a right turn. He made two more turns and pulled up in front of a medium-sized brick house.

“What’s this?” Noah said.

“The third smallest three-bedroom house in the neighborhood,” Tom said, “and it’s mine. Come inside and let me show you.”

They exited the car, and Tom unlocked the front door and ushered his guest inside.

“Oh my God,” Noah said, “it looks like my mother lives here—it’s so clean and neat.”

He chuckled at that and said, “I’m not exactly a neat freak, but I do like to keep things tidy. Let me give you the nickel tour.”

They walked through the house and wound up standing in the living room.

“Well,” Tom said, “what do you think?”

“About what?” Noah said.

“The large bedroom is mine, the tiny bedroom is my music studio, and the other bedroom is available.”

“Available?”

“For rent. How much are you paying now?”

“Three hundred a month, plus half of the utilities.”

“You can move into the empty bedroom tomorrow for one-fifty a month, plus half of the utilities,” Tom said.

“You’re kidding.”

“I don’t kid about things like that. Look, I used to rent to Steve, and since he moved out of town, I just haven’t had time to look for a new roommate. Not to mention the fact that I wasn’t anxious to go through the process of weeding out the assholes.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“The decision sort of makes itself. You need a place to live, and I have an opening. Although we hardly know each other, we’re going to be working together, and I’ve already met your ‘neat’ criteria. I’ll throw in a few voice lessons to sweeten the deal.”

“Would I have to sign a lease?”

“We can go from month to month. I don’t have a problem with that.”

“What kind of music do you listen to, and more importantly, how loudly do you play it?” Noah said.

“Follow me,” Tom said, and he led Noah back into his studio.

Noah followed Tom into the small room, which contained a desk, a console piano, and two easy chairs. Built-in bookshelves covered two of the walls from floor to ceiling.

“The shelves to your right contain my entire CD collection. It’s all organ, choral, and classical music, with a little opera for good measure. I like it pretty loud, but I also have a very good set of headphones. Of course, it gets loud when I practice on the piano, and I do a fair amount of that. What about you? I hope you don’t like country and western.”

“God, no. I’m pretty much a Bach, Mozart, and Vivaldi kind of guy, which is another thing that set me apart in Live Oak.”

“That being the case, what do you have to lose?”

“I know I’m repeating myself, but I don’t know what to say.”

“Think about it for a minute,” Tom said, “while I put something in the CD player.”

He scanned the shelves of CDs, selected one, and inserted it into the machine. Looking at the index inside the jewel case, he skipped to the track he wanted and hit the play button. Music filled the little room.

After a minute, Noah said, “That’s the piece I sang for you tonight.”

“Yep.”

“I could never be as good as that guy.”

“That’s Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau singing, and he’s one of the best in the world and the best Elijah I’ve ever heard. Nobody expects that level of performance from you.”

“I should hope not.”

“On the other hand, with a little coaching, you can be damn good.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Noah,” Tom said, “when you get to know me, you’ll find out very quickly that I never ever say anything I don’t mean. Ask anyone in the choir. Trust me when I say that you’ll wow them at the concert next year.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so. Of course, I’m such a slave driver that you’ll probably hate me by the time of the concert.”

“The other members of the choir don’t seem to have a problem with your slave driving.”

“That’s because they’re a dedicated group. Not to mention the fact that they have a thousand and one ways to encourage the odd slacker to either shape up or ship out.”

“Okay,” Noah said.

“Okay what?”

“You’ve got a new roommate. I’ll move in tomorrow, while the asshole is at work.”

“If you need some help, I have a friend who has a little pickup truck.”

“If you really want to help,” Noah said, “your Volvo will hold whatever stuff my car won’t carry.”

“Okay.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Was Steve straight or gay?”

He chuckled at the thought and said, “Steve was straight as an arrow. Are you thinking that the room comes with strings attached?”

“I don’t know, but I had to ask.”

“Do I look old, ugly, and/or decrepit?”

“Hardly.”

“If I feel the need to get laid,” Tom said, “I can go to any gay bar in town and pretty much take my pick. The fact of the matter is I have other priorities at the moment.”

“Such as?”

“Finishing my doctorate and landing a teaching job at UNF or JU (Jacksonville University), getting invited to perform concerts several times a year, and getting some name recognition. Maybe even recording a couple of CDs, who knows? All of which are more important to me than going out and getting my ashes hauled regularly.”

“Point taken.”

“It’s my turn to ask you a question, Noah,” Tom said.

“What?”

“Ever done it with a girl?”

“No.”

“With a guy?”

“Does j*********f with my best friend when I was sixteen count as s*x?”

“No.”

“Then no, I’m a nineteen-year-old virgin. Please don’t tell anybody.”

“It’s not my secret to tell,” Tom said, “and certainly none of my business.”

“Good.”

“We’re going to get along just fine,” Tom said. But one of these days, s*x will inevitably rear its ugly little head, he thought, and when it does, we’ll just have to deal with it. He turned the music off, locked the front door, and drove Noah back to the church parking lot, pulling up beside the only car that remained in the lot.

“What time do you get off work tomorrow, Noah?”

“I work from seven till three tomorrow.”

“And your roommate?”

“Three till eleven.”

“Perfect,” Tom said. “I have the address, and I’ll be at your place by four.”

“Thanks,” Noah said.

They shook hands on the bargain, and he watched Noah drive off in his old clunker.