Chapter Two
Noah hoisted his sax case over his shoulder and pushed through the double doors of the Open End Bar and Lounge. It was located on South Fourth Street in the heart of Williamsburg. The Open End had blossomed from a hole-in-the-wall dive two years earlier to “the place” to be to hear great local musicians, toss back some of the best drinks in the area, and order from a menu to rival its neighborhood competitors. Its success was due to the vision and hard work of Anthony Fields, Noah’s frat brother and best friend.
Noah and Anthony had crossed the line together at Howard University and came out on the other side as Omega Psi Phi men. The two buddies lived the ideals and principles of Omega men: integrity, loyalty, hard work, service, and brotherhood.
While he made his way to the back room to find Anthony, Noah nodded to one of the waitresses that he recognized. He felt like playing tonight and hoped to be able to sit in on the last set.
He exited the lounge area and walked down the short hall, which led to the kitchen and back offices. Anthony’s door was open.
“Hey, bro,” Anthony greeted when he looked up to see Noah in the doorway. “Come on in a sec. I was just finishing up the schedule for next week.”
Noah strolled into the compact space and took a seat in the one chair and stretched out his long legs in front of him. He must have jabbed Anthony in the ribs about a hundred times to get a reliable manager to handle all of the day-to-day stuff so that he could concentrate on building and growing his business. His response was always the same. “I know you’re right, but you handle stuff your way, I’ll do it mine. I prefer more hands-on. You should talk,” he would add, referring to Noah’s own situation.
Noah had grown tired of the same conversation, so he’d stopped bringing it up, that’s what made Anthony’s announcement such a surprise.
Anthony finished entering the information into the computer. “Yo, I started interviewing for a manager.”
Noah tossed his head back and chuckled. “Say what? You, ‘Mr. I Can Do It All Myself.’”
“All right, all right, don’t rub it in,” he said, holding up his hand to stave off any “I told you so” commentary.
“Cool.” Noah leaned forward “Why now?”
Anthony relaxed in his chair and linked his fingers behind his head. “I think it’s time that I follow your model. Open End is solid, in the black, and has developed a reputation that I feel can withstand the expansion.”
Noah nodded in agreement as he listened. “What can I do to help?”
“Scout out some locations with me. You have an eye for that kind of thing. Ideally, I’d like to stay in Brooklyn, but with the rent of commercial space skyrocketing, I don’t know if that’s feasible.”
“Unless we can find a good deal. Maybe something that needs rehab instead of ready to go.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“Great minds,” Noah quipped.
“Yeah,” he co-signed, doing the two-fingered move from his eyes to Noah’s. “So that’s my story. What’s up with you?”
“Thought I’d sit in on a set tonight.”
“No problem. You’re always welcome.”
“Cool.”
“You see that writer again?”
Noah half-smiled. “She was in the shop today.”
“And. . . ?”
“And nothing. Usual ‘hey, how you doing’—that’s about it.”
Anthony made a face. “Man, by the time you step past that, the both of you will be too old to give a damn.”
Noah sputtered a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
“I ain’t never known you to be this hesitant with a woman. You usually make your move by now. What’s up with that?”
Noah frowned in thought. “I don’t really know,” he said, his answer surprising him. “Whenever I see her, I lose my swag.” He grinned.
“Umm, she must be something.”
Noah looked off into the distance. Yes, she is.
“You decide what you want to do for the holidays? The offer is still open,” Anthony said, switching topics. “The fam would love to see you.”
“Still thinking on it, man.”
Anthony’s family was the family Noah didn’t have. He was a product of the foster care system. Five families in total after he was removed at the age of ten from his drug-addicted mother. His father wasn’t even a name on his birth certificate. The ambivalent relationship with his mother, the missing father, and multiple families had left their scars. Nothing anyone could see, but rather buried in his psyche, which made it hard for Noah to put his trust in relationships. He had to admit though, his last family, the Hunters—when he entered high school—put him on track for both academic and personal success. With their love and guidance he morphed from a mediocre student to the top of his classes. He graduated valedictorian with a full-ride scholarship to Xavier, Columbia, Temple, and Howard. He chose Howard University, which was where he met Anthony.
During his freshman year Noah lost both Mr. and Mrs. Hunter, six months apart; she from a heart attack and he from a stroke. That year was when Anthony’s family became his family. Refusing to leave him alone on campus during the holidays, Anthony took Noah home with him to Atlanta. It had been a standing tradition ever since. But there was still the little boy in him who expected it all to disappear. Anthony was the exception, the only one who knew his demons. So Noah was always on guard, and rarely committed himself to anyone and steered clear of allowing women—in particular—to get under his skin and really know him. “Hit and run” was his motto.
“Plus I think Mia has someone she wants you to meet,” Anthony said, cutting into Noah’s trip down memory lane.
Noah chuckled. “Your sister always has someone for me to meet. It’s tradition.”
Anthony shrugged helplessly. He’d been a victim of his sister’s matchmaking schemes for the better part of his adult life. He simply let it roll off his back to humor her.
“Whatever you decide, let me know sooner rather than later. Christmas will be here in a minute and tickets will be sky high.”
“True. I’ll let you know.”
“Cool. Anyway, let me get with Ed and let him know you’ll be sitting in on the last set.”
“Thanks, man.”
* * *
Playing the sax always relaxed him and cleared his head. By the time he turned the key in the door to his loft, at nearly 2 a.m., he was in a Zen state of mind, and had decided that the next time he saw Traci, he would say something of substance.