Page 34 of Something Like Hail

Harold laughed. “Grab a drink and have aseat. I gotta make some calls.”

Noah helped himself to aglass of tap water, and while sitting at the kitchen table, watchedHarold use the phone. He didn’t just start barking orders or leapright to the reason he was making each call. He first asked howeach person was doing, personalized chitchat coming beforebusiness. This only made Noah adore him more. Hotandnice! Or nice andhot. Either way, what a guy!

“Okay!” Harold said,joining him at the table and setting down the phone. “I rearrangedstuff. You’ve got Chester tonight. He’s a sweetheart. That’s who Iwanted your first date to be with.”

“You’re not getting fistedfor me,” Noah said. “Are you?”

Harold scoffed. “I like you, but not thatmuch! No, a different guy will take care of that client.”

“Do you think Marcello willbe mad about this?”

Harold shrugged. “Maybe. If so, tell him totake it up with me.”

“You’re the best!” Noahsaid, and he meant it. He couldn’t imagine doing better thanHarold.

“I’m just doing what I’dwant you to if our roles were reversed. Speaking of which, webetter get ready. We’ve got dates to impress!”

“Any tips about Chester?”Noah asked as he stood.

“Nah. He’s easy. Just don’tbe there in the morning.”

“Why not?”

Harold grinned. “Because he turns into apumpkin.”

Chapter Six

Noah showed up at a restaurant the sameevening and confirmed his reservation with the hostess, all ofwhich felt reassuringly normal. No blindfolds or mind games thistime. His only complaint was that the place was kind of fancy, andNoah was wearing a goofy checkered shirt like he’d just fallen offthe turnip truck. He had no doubt that other people could make suchclothing appear sexy or even sophisticated, but Noah neededsomething dressier to make himself feel confident. Another timeperhaps, because the hostess had led him to his table, an old manalready seated there.

“Chester!” Noah declared,like they were old friends. “I’m so glad to see you!”

Chester smiled and got to his feet, a littleshaky while doing so. He was eighty—maybe even ninety—his backslightly hunched. His white hair was wispy, part of it stickingupright. His ears were large, his nose bulbous, and the tweed suita few decades out of style. Kind eyes helped chase away anyapprehension Noah felt.

Chester’s smile was generous as he openedhis arms for a hug. “Less than ten words and you’ve charmed mealready,” he said.

Noah braced himself for old-man stink, likehis grandfather always had, but Chester smelled like aftershave andshoe polish.

“Thanks for the dinnerinvitation,” Noah said, shaking his head when the hostess asked ifhe wanted anything to drink.

Chester wouldn’t allow it. “I’ll have thatbottle of wine now,” he said. “Two glasses, if that’s okay withyou?”

“Yeah!” Noah answeredeagerly. It had been a long day with many ups and downs, and theidea of a drink sounded appealing. He knew he should be on guard,but he also trusted Harold’s assurance that this wouldn’t be atricky assignment.

“Tell me a little aboutyourself,” Chester said.

Easy enough. Noah gave him the Disneyversion of events—a small-town boy who had traveled to the big cityto find love. Or at least to find others like himself. He includedenough details to carry them through the first glass of wine, andafter their food arrived, he answered Chester’s follow-up questionswhile they ate.

“Unbelievable!” the old mandeclared. “So much has changed since my time. When I was your age,I had just married my wife. Only then did I lose my virginity, butI suppose that was unusual for a man, even back then. My parentswere very religious. They had me terrified of going toHell.”

“My parents are religioustoo,” Noah said, feeling bad for misrepresenting events. “Theyaren’t too thrilled, to be honest but… I need to live my own life.I have to do what’s best for me.”

“That’s a very modernattitude,” Chester replied. “I was raised to obey my parents, servemy community, better my country…”

“The good old days,” Noahsaid, thinking again of his own grandfather, who seemed to talksolely about the past and how much better it had been. That’s whatmade Chester’s answer so surprising.

“More like the bad olddays! We were taught to fear Communism and anything slightlydifferent than ourselves, and let me tell you, that concept of ‘us’was one big lie. We were all deceiving each other just to get by,or drinking ourselves to death, because no one was having any fun.Thank god for the sixties, or I would have given up the ghost along time ago.”

Noah laughed. “Really?”