Go Your Own Way - 2. Chapter 2

Go Your Own Way

Chapter 2

Eyeing my rolled up sleeping bag with disdain, Kelly had offered to let me sleep on his sofa last night. I had assured him that, while I planned to purchase a mattress post haste, I had roughed it in my bag plenty of times and would be fine. Groaning, as I pulled myself up to a sitting position, I realized that while that statement was true, that roughing it had been a while ago, and my bones were regretting my decision.

I decided a run would limber me up, as well as help me get the lay of my new neighborhood. I had found my apartment online, and had prepared the necessary paperwork and payments via fax and paypal, so I had never actually seen my neighborhood before yesterday. I had passed through the area on earlier trips to New Orleans, but had never spent much time in MidCity.

As I jogged up Carrollton, one of the main streets bisecting the area, I was more and more pleased with my choice. I noticed the businesses Kelly had mentioned last night: the mattress store just blocks from my apartment, the grocery store, the bookstore, even Kelly’s own store. Everything I needed was within easy walking distance.

Eventually I turned and headed to Bayou St. John. Here by the water, there was a bit of crispness in the air, despite the increasing heat of the summer day. By the time I made it back to my new home, sipping a coffee with chicory I had purchased at a coffee shop near City Park, I was ever more sure I had made the right decision in moving to New Orleans and MidCity.

There was no sign of Kelly on our shared front porch when I returned, but as I went about the apartment, showering, dressing, and making my list of necessary errands, I heard him moving about next door. And soon enough after the first indications he was up, I smelled brewing coffee. Inhaling the delicious scent, I quickly added coffee and a coffee maker to my list of immediately necessary household items.

It was a little after nine when I headed out, full of piss and vinegar as my dad likes to say. Ready to conquer my new world.

When I pulled up to the apartment around 6 in my newly purchased car, one of the most important items on my to buy list, I no longer felt so spry. I had bought the vehicle i needed, mainly to get to and from work, as well as buying a mattress which was scheduled for delivery tomorrow. I had also made a run to Target to buy the most necessary things to set up housekeeping: some dishes, bedding for that new mattress, towels, etc. But picking it all out had been much more work than I anticipated.

Until I had stood in an aisle at Target, staring at what seemed like 90,000 options for sheets, I hadn’t realized that I had never picked anything like that out in my adult life. My mom had bought my stuff for the dorm. My first apartment had consisted of the hand me down furniture and fixtures she and my other relatives had wanted to ditch, and my first (and only at this point) house had been decorated and stocked by my wife...I immediately switched off that train of thought. Since then, I had lived in a series of hotels, furnished rooms, and government housing units. Damn, I thought before giving up and settling on plain white everything. 39 years old and had never bought a set of sheets.

At the beginning of the day, before every transaction had taken five times as long as I anticipated, and I had a meltdown in the home goods section of Target, I had planned to maybe hit a couple of furniture stores to pick some stuff out. Now…..I was contemplating if life would be that awful after in all in an apartment furnished only with a card table and a mattress. It wouldn’t be that bad would it?

A wolf whistle pierced my daze as I sat in the car. Startled, I glanced over at the house and realized Kelly was on the porch.

“Sweet ride,” he said, coming down the stairs. He paused before the Mustang convertible, yellow with black racing stripes. He appraised it, before running appreciative fingers delicately over the front fender.

“I thought you said last night you were going to get something….what was it? Oh yes, ‘practical with good milage and plenty of hauling space.’”

“What can I say?” I said. “That what I meant to buy...but I saw this, and it was pure, blinding lust. It’s the car I always wanted; I tried to resist. I test drove coupes and SUVs and...I caved. I guess it’s the first step in my midlife crisis.”

Kelly laughed. “It is a beautiful car. I can’t blame you.” He paused. “Let’s see,” he continued, his eyes twinkling. “Obviously the ponytail is out.” At this point he reached out and rubbed my closely cropped hair (I had started buzzing it when it began thinning). His touch was brief, but I felt almost an electric jolt at it.

“So, since there won’t be a ponytail…..I guess you’ll skip straight to the pierced ear and tattoo,” he said.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I hate needles, so nope on both.”

“20 year old blonde girlfriend?” he offered.

“Remember what I told you last night? I go it my own way, alone, so no blonde.”

“Hmmm…..” he said. “Since you’ve rejected four of the most popular midlife crises options you’ve either misdiagnosed the reason for buying the car, or your symptoms are going to be even more extreme than usual.”

“Well, it’s nice to know I’m not as basic as I thought,” I said, starting to gather the bags from the back seat.

“Here, let me help,” he said, grabbing some as well.

As we walked up the front steps I noticed amazing smells coming from his place. “What are you cooking? It smells incredible.”

“It’s nothing major. I put a roast in the slow cooker before work this morning. I can bring some over when it’s ready. Or better yet, why don’t you come over for dinner?”

“I couldn’t. You already feed me last night.”

“That doesn’t matter. I’d really love the company. And like I told you, I always make too much. If you share it with me, you’ll be saving me from having to eat roast beef sandwiches for lunch for a week straight.”

I was going to refuse on principle, but I got another good whiff of the roast. “If you insist.”

“Great,” he said, with one of his blinding smiles. “Give me about an hour and head over. Which do you prefer on the side? Rice or mashed potatoes?”

“Whichever you prefer.”

“Everybody has a preference, and my preference is for for you to pick.”

“In that case, rice. Mom always makes hers with rice,” I said.

Another smile. “Rice it is. See you in a bit.”

I filled my hour with unpacking some of my purchases and taking another shower. I also walked the two blocks to the grocery store to pick up some wine for dinner. The wine selection was much more extensive than i had anticipated, and I lost take of time, barely arriving before the hour was up, all sweaty and out of breath from rushing from the store. I know it wasn’t a big deal to be a bit tardy, but I didn’t want to be late.

He answered my ring almost immediately, making appreciative noises over the wine while simultaneously telling me I shouldn’t have bothered. He motioned for me to follow him on through the kitchen. He had changed into cut off jeans and a tee shirt, which showed off his muscular physique.

As I followed him to the back, I was distracted by his apartment. It was smaller than mine, two rooms plus a kitchen and bath instead of my three; the owner had carved a third apartment, a studio, from the house, taking most of the space from his side. The studio was occupied by a female flight attendant who was rarely home according to Kelly.

A classic shotgun arrangement, the rooms opened directly onto each other. The first was the living room, then the bedroom, then the kitchen with a small bath opening off of it. All of the rooms were painted the same color….a indefinable green, blue, and gray depending on the way the light caught it.

Simple Roman shades made of burlap hung at the windows. The sofa was slipcovered in denim, and there were a pair of ragged, but comfortable looking leather club chairs. There were books everywhere and art and orchids. It looked like something out of a magazine, true, but more than that it looked….inviting. Comforting. I felt like I just want to grab a book, a glass of wine, and curl up.

“I love your place,” I said when I finally stopped purusing his book collection and made it to the kitchen. He had uncorked the wine by then and was pouring it into two large red wine balloon glasses.

“Thanks.”

“I have to be honest….I wasn’t planning to ask for your help with mine….I hate asking for help, but now I’ve seen this place.,,,” I paused and did my best puppy dog eyes. I haven’t done puppy dog eyes since I was a kid, so I doubted their effectiveness, but they used to work on Mom, so I decided to give them a shot. “....could you help me with my apartment?”

“Sure, I’d love to. It’s what I do, after all. And…” he paused and sipped his wine. “I would have said yes even without the Bambi eyes.”

“Number 1, fantastic news. Number 2, those were puppy dog eyes, not Bambi. And number 3, it’s been so long since I’ve pulled that trick out, I’m just impressed it’s still vaguely recognizable.”

He laughed. “Enough talk. Let’s eat. There’s roast and rice. And I made some English peas.”

“Are you serious? Mom always made English peas to go with her roast and rice. How did you know?” I could feel my face light up. That was one of the favorite meals of mine she made, and I hadn’t eaten it in years.

“I had a hunch. Somehow, you just seemed like the kind of guy who would like English peas with his rice.”

Dinner was just as much fun as it had been last night. Actually better. I still felt the ease around Kelly that I hadn’t felt around another person since I don’t know when. Maybe not since my teens when my brother and I were still close. And this time, instead of hunched over a card table in folding chairs, we were sitting around a real one, originally his grandmother’s, in a cozy kitchen.

After dinner, we moved to the living room and sat and talked and listened to music. Eventually, my yawns became too frequent, and I made my intention to leave known. Kelly would have none of it and insisted on my sleeping on his sofa.

“It’s no imposition, and it’s only one night. Your bed comes tomorrow. There’s no need to spend another night on the floor.”

I caved, happily, dreading another night on the floor. As I slid into sleep, I realized the pillow and quilt smelled like him: of lavender and cedar and sandalwood. My dreams were sweet that night.