150 Pounds Part 10

"Thank you," she said. Noah seemed to have some kind of effect on her. She felt safer with him around. Softer, happier. She felt like the Alexis she'd been before Mark had died and her mother had picked up the bottle, and the falling-out with her father over quitting the law. She'd still had her convictions about diet and exercise then, but hadn't she been a little less ... strict? The private workout sessions, the scale, the constant weighing herself, the app on her phone that counted calories. That had all come ... after.

"I'll see you in the morning," Noah said, and he surprised her by leaning down and kissing her on the cheek. Warm with the smell of him, Alexis fell asleep five minutes after Noah quietly eased the door closed. She could swear at some point she'd heard Vanya standing near her door whispering, "Great catch," but surely she'd imagined it.

In the morning, Alexis's alarm clock clicked on and Billy's voice screeched into her ears. "Aleeeexiiis, it's me, Billy. I know you're sleeping, but it's time to wakey-wakey. I know you want to lie around in bed for another two hours, but you know who lies in bed, don't you?"

"Fat girls," she whispered into her pillow.

Suddenly her door burst open and Noah came storming in, wearing only blue-and-white Yankees boxers with a rip in a suspicious place on the back. His body was even better than she could have dreamed. His nipples were a brown sienna, his six-pack prominent, his legs long, calves strong, probably from all that biking, Alexis mused. She raised her eyebrows at him and suddenly remembered she was wearing last night's clothing. Her one earring was tangled up in her frizzy mane of hair. She had cat-food breath. Her top was askew, which she quickly fixed.

"What the h.e.l.l is that noise?" Noah asked, glaring at her alarm clock. "It's not even five o'clock!"

"I get up now and eat breakfast," Alexis said defensively. "And then I go work out."

"Now?" he gasped. "I didn't even get up this early when I was a professional athlete and trained every day. I mean, it's just freakishly early. The only person I knew up at this time was my grandfather, who was a lobster fisherman. And he only got up that early because he had to earn his bread that way."

"Well, this is me," Alexis said defensively, scooting out of bed. She realized that at some point in the night, Noah had put an extra blanket on her.

He followed her into the kitchen, then watched her slice her banana. She kept peering over her shoulder at him, feeling uncomfortable to be observed so closely. "Is that it?" he asked, after she'd finished her banana and milk.

She sighed. "Yes. I told you, I'm really careful about what I eat."

"Well, that just won't do," Noah said. "Stay here. I'm going out to get some groceries. I'll be right back."

As he turned, Billy, who had woken up to pee, shuffled down the hallway, still half asleep and rubbing his eyes. He wore blue silk pajamas, and Alexis saw he'd gotten his hair cut in a slight Mohawk. It looked very nonthreatening on Billy.

He glanced at the kayak, then the bike. Then shrugged.

When he saw Noah he stood still and stared. Alexis realized Noah was still half naked, and as Billy looked from her to him and back again it occurred to her it looked like they'd slept together. Billy gave Alexis a wink.

"h.e.l.lo, delicious naked black man," Billy said, extending his hand.

Alexis closely watched Noah's reaction. If he didn't like Billy's flamboyancy, she'd drop him like a hot stone. She was very loyal to Billy. But Noah just did his deep, booming laugh and leaned across the breakfast bar to shake Billy's hand. "You must be Alexis's roommate Billy," he said. "I'm the random guy she met last night who was teaching a cooking cla.s.s that she decided to commit suicide by knife in."

Billy, with great reluctance, tore his eyes off Noah's physique and truly saw Alexis for the first time. "Babe!" he said. "What the h.e.l.l happened to your hand?" He gently cradled her hand in his own, examining it.

She waved him away. "It's nothing."

"She got fifteen st.i.tches and a prescription for painkillers," Noah informed Billy.

"Well, hooray for the painkillers. I might take one myself for fun. Has she had one yet this morning?" Billy asked. "She seems to be sore. I can tell, she didn't even finish her banana."

"I'm standing right here, you know, guys," Alexis said drolly. They were discussing her like two surgeons standing over an open chest cavity, ready to begin surgery.

"He's right," Noah said. "You should probably pop one of those babies right after I make you some breakfast. With no food in your stomach they'd make you really nauseous."

He sauntered over to put on his clothes, which, as Alexis could have guessed, were strewn about in the living room. One sock was hanging from a lamp. She pictured his apartment again, and added dirty laundry hung about to her vision. Definitely not her type.

"I'll be right back, guys," he said, and after tucking his phone and scruffy brown leather wallet into his back pocket, he was gone, carrying his sports equipment downstairs on both shoulders. She felt the absence of him. The room was better with him in it, she decided.

"Wow!" Billy exclaimed, when the door shut behind Noah. "That guy is gorgeous. Chocolate that melts in your mouth. Yum."

Alexis laughed. "He's super ... nice. He wants to open his own restaurant. He kind of reminds me of a Labrador."

"Well, woof!" Billy said, making them both giggle like schoolchildren. He plopped down next to her on the couch and put her feet in his lap, ma.s.saging her ankles. This was why he was her best friend. Billy just went with the flow. He didn't ask what Noah was doing here, or why Alexis broke her steadfast no-sleepovers rule. Billy was entirely nonjudgmental. At least of her. He made fun of other gay friends, for example: "Oh, you know those queens. So gay. Always having the same argument over what country to adopt a baby from. It's silly. They should just adopt me."

He also had zero tolerance for lesbians. "Terrible haircuts and oh, my G.o.d, when they fight they punch each other in the face! It's despicable." Alexis would try and point out that probably not every lesbian couple went around punching one another, certainly she couldn't imagine Ellen DeGeneres and Portia de Rossi DeGeneres socking each other in the eyeball on a daily basis, but when she brought up these points Billy would wave his hand at her or change the subject. And yet, he was nothing if not a walking contradiction. Alexis had several times caught him crying over gay or lesbian wedding announcements in the Style section of the newspaper. "We've come so far," he'd say, when she pressed him.

In addition to his various prejudices, Billy had steadfast opinions about which he never wavered: Asian women caused the most traffic accidents. If you see a blond person in Manhattan they're from Sweden. Going out drinking when you have a cold cures you faster than cold medicine and rest. If you play golf you are a Republican.

Alexis peered at Billy more closely. "You look tired."

He ran his hand over the frayed edges of his Mohawk. He had blue circles under his eyes. He put down her foot, looking distracted. "Yeah, I don't know what my deal is lately. I've been bartending nights for five years, and I never used to get tired."

"Did you go out after?" Sometimes Billy went what he called "gay dancing" after work. She'd gone with him a few times. They'd dress up like David Bowie, affix silver glitter lightning bolts to their cheeks, strap on platform shoes, and head out to Billy's favorite West Village bars, where they'd drink and dance themselves silly. Once Billy had talked her into wearing a skintight white bodysuit he'd taken home from the set of a future-themed movie that aired on the Sci-Fi Channel. "You look like a s.l.u.tty Princess Leia!" he'd exclaimed, clapping his hands at the sight of her.

"No, that's just it," Billy said. He rummaged around in their cupboard for a few moments, and then pulled out a box of Raisin Bran. "I went straight home after work and I still feel like s.h.i.t." His forehead had a light sheen of sweat on it.

"Maybe you should go to the doctor," she said, leaning against the kitchen doorframe. The room was so small that she could have reached out and touched his silk sleeve. "You might have mono."

His head was inside the refrigerator looking for the milk but she still heard his snort. "I don't have mono," he said. "Korean people are immune to it."

"Billy! Anyone can get mono."

He turned to her, his left hand perched on his hip, and gestured with the milk carton. "Seriously, babe. Have you ever f.u.c.king heard of a Korean person getting f.u.c.king mono?"

She shook her head. She walked toward him and put her hand on his forehead and gasped. "Billy! You are burning up. Let's go, I am putting you back to bed."

He poured his cereal and milk into the bowl, took a few bites, and sighed, putting his bowl in the sink. "Not hungry. But if I go back to bed I don't get to see more of Noah. And I want to see more of Noah. Nice, naked Noah."

She smiled. "You can after you take a nap. I'm serious. I only have one of you."

He let her lead him into his room, which he'd decorated with thick red-and-green-striped wallpaper, a Jonathan Adler headboard he'd been given as a gift from the set of The Young and the Restless, and the stuffed head of a deer they'd found at the h.e.l.l's Kitchen flea market two summers ago. He had a portable bar straight out of Mad Men in the corner, and six-hundred-thread-count sheets from Barneys. "Fabulous Prep" was how he'd described it over the phone to Alexis, as Billy had found the apartment and moved in first, when she was still living in Connecticut and applying to law school the summer after college.

He took off his pajama top and Alexis had to cover her mouth to stifle a scream.

"What? Oh, I know. Gross, right?"

Underneath Billy's left arm was a plum-sized lump.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

He slowly lifted his arm and inspected it casually, like it was a freckle or speck of dirt. "I don't know, it just seemed to materialize there a week ago. I was hoping if I ignored it, it would go away. You know how that sometimes happens," he said, laughing weakly.

He avoided looking at her.

She swallowed, not wanting Billy to see how scared she was. "Sarah from the gym is married to a doctor at NYU," she said. "I'll call her."

"Fine," Billy said. His voice didn't have an ounce of its usual att.i.tude as he climbed into bed. "But come in here and get me if Noah takes his shirt off again."

"I will, I promise," Alexis said, smiling, and gently closed the door behind her.

The newness of Noah, and the throb of her finger, now were all forgotten as Alexis shakily dialed Sarah's 718-area-code number. She hoped she was home and not training today. Luckily, she reached her, and after Sarah promised she'd page her husband at work Alexis set down the phone, sitting on the couch and staring out the window. She'd felt a bolt of fear run through her body, and she didn't like it. Billy was her entire family, hook, line, and sinker. Her mother was a drunk, Mark was dead, and her father hated her. Those were the bare-bones facts. She had the sudden image of that fat girl's sister, what was her name, at Oprah, sticking her big, chubby finger in her face and shouting, Obviously you don't have any family values or else you would never have said that just to win an argument!

Emily, that had been her name. Shoshana's even fatter sister. "Family values," Alexis said now, aloud in her apartment, to the dust that settled into the floorboards, the sunlight streaming into the window, which had a crack running along the bottom.

Her head perked up at the sound of the buzzer, and she walked trancelike over to push her finger on the plastic b.u.t.ton.

She could barely see Noah's face over the three stuffed-to-the-brim brown grocery bags. She decided not to mention Billy; after all, she wasn't sure what the lump meant, and she didn't want to spoil Noah's good mood. He was whistling.

"Now you just sit right there and relax," he said. She'd gone back to sit on the couch and his voice came out m.u.f.fled from the kitchen as he stuck his head into bags, his large hands pawing over the food. "I am going to put some meat on those bones."

Alexis shuddered at the thought. But no one had ever cooked for her before, and she tried to look on the bright side; she might just get a blog post for Skinny Chick out of this. She was stuck on what to write about for tomorrow anyway.

Oh, but who cared? Who cared about Noah and his ears that stuck out adorably from the sides of his head and his big white smile that seemed to X-ray right through her clothes? What the f.u.c.k was that lump beneath Billy's arm? She got up and paced up and down, the floorboards creaking underneath her feet. She fiddled with her bandage. She checked her phone three times, hoping Sarah's husband Aldo would call.

He finally did, just as Noah was setting out two plates, searching around in the drawer for silverware. An amazing smell wafted over to her nose from the kitchen. Their plates, gla.s.ses, silverware were all mix-matched, nothing was part of a set. Some had been there when they moved into the apartment, and they eventually got over the initial grossness and used them, and then there were the odd-looking antique plates with horses and carriages on them that belonged to Billy. Vanya contributed some black plastic plates with a pink skull and crossbones on them, which Alexis and Billy were too scared to use, plus once your food was on there it was impossible to see what you were eating.

"h.e.l.lo, Alexis, this is Dr. Aldo Martinez. Sarah said you wanted to speak with me about a friend of yours?" She heard someone being paged in the background, voices murmuring, telephones ringing.

"Yes, um, it's Billy. Billy is his name." Noah peered at her curiously, then sat down on one of the breakfast barstools. He clasped his hands in his lap and waited for her, which she liked. His manners seemed ... antiquated somehow.

"And what seems to be the problem?" Aldo's voice was kind, but she could tell he was busy. Of course, he had other patients. Ones probably who were really sick. Billy probably had mono. Or the flu. She continued with more confidence, but kept her voice down so Billy wouldn't hear her discussing him.

"He has a lump ... under his arm. About the size of a plum. And he says he's been tired, sluggish. He works nights, so he's tired a lot, but not like this. And he has blue circles under his eyes, I'm just ... I'm worried about him."

"Yes, I see. Why don't you tell Billy to come see me in my uptown office today after nine? I'll be able to give a better diagnosis that way than over the phone."

She swallowed. She didn't like that word, "diagnosis." Did you get diagnosed for mono? She supposed one did. Just last night, she'd been diagnosed with a need for st.i.tches, right? And that turned out to be no big deal.

"Okay, thank you so much, Aldo. I mean, Dr. Martinez. I really appreciate you taking the time to call me back."

Noah set down a plate of steaming-hot French toast in front of her. She pressed the off b.u.t.ton on her phone, then set it slowly down next to her plate. She realized with a strange calmness that if her phone was off she couldn't input the calories into her app, but the thought swam in and out of her mind like a gentle tide. Absentmindedly, she took a bite. She stared at her fork, then cut off another piece, and ate that, too. Somewhere in the back of her mind alarm bells were going off about her caloric intake, but she was too worried to respond to them.

"Everything okay?" Noah asked, in that deep, calm voice of his. She felt she could listen to him talk all day, every day.

"Did you hear that?" Alexis asked.

"I think I have the gist," Noah answered. He put an arm around her. "Everything is going to be fine."

"It's just ... Billy's my whole family and best friend wrapped into one, you know?" She instantly regretted saying it. Her voice had cracked. It sounded like she was asking him to pity her.

"I hear you," Noah said. "With my family so far away, it's pretty much me and Oliver in the bachelor pad. I think Billy is lucky to have you."

"Hmmm," Alexis said, unnerved by his praise. She stared out the window.

"Eat," Noah said gently. "Food helps ease the soul."

Alexis sighed. "I guess if I don't eat anything else for the rest of the day..." she said. The food was so good, so warm and sweet. As a child she'd devour French toast; their maid Elsa cooked it and put a whipped cream heart on top. She'd leave a square of b.u.t.ter on top and let them pour on as much maple syrup as they wanted. Mark called the b.u.t.ter "b.u.t.ter boats," and they would use their forks to race the yellow squares until they melted.

She ate slowly, relishing each bite. She spoke only once to ask for more syrup. Following the toast were homemade croissants, baked in her c.r.a.ppy little oven she'd been using to store extra shoes. Noah b.u.t.tered hers, then ate four himself.

"I usually go to the gym now," she said reluctantly, when she'd finished everything on her plate, and then, when Noah wasn't looking, licked it.

"Aren't you exhausted?" he asked. "We didn't get home until pretty late." He glanced at the clock on the stove, and she realized he didn't wear a watch.

It was true. She ached everywhere, and longed to go back to her bed. "Want to come with me?" she asked. She smiled at him. Not her scary smile, the one she flashed right before telling guys off who approached her, but a tired one, a little-girl smile. She felt so full she could burst, but the food and the feeling it gave her was of being cared for. She understood suddenly how people ate to feel better, but she pushed away the thought. How horrible, if she were to turn into someone that weak. Today was an anomaly; she'd have to work twice as hard in the gym to work it off.

"I do," he said. He looked at her meaningfully, reading her.

"I can't believe you got me to eat all that starchy food," she exclaimed, as they walked down the hallway. She felt nervous, which was totally uncharacteristic of her. She was usually like a lioness before the kill when she went to bed with men. She enjoyed the buildup, the power. Now, she felt powerless. She didn't like it.

"Everybody needs a little comfort food now and again," he said. "Besides, I already told you: I'm gonna put some meat on those bones of yours. Otherwise people are going to think I'm starving you."

"You leave my bones alone," she said, b.u.mping his shoulder with her own, as they walked to her room. But she'd liked what he'd said, as if these mythological "people" were surrounding them and their couplehood, watching them, that they were indeed to be a couple, or something along those lines.

Again, she got into bed fully clothed. Noah lay next to her, over the blankets. She leaned over and turned off the heater. She'd left it on last night when she left for the cooking cla.s.s (G.o.d, that seemed like ages ago!) and her pillows were on fire.

"I'm going to kiss you now," he said, pulling her on top of him.

"Okay, then," she replied, and felt his hands wrap around her head, comb through her hair, gently turn her face to his, and then he did indeed kiss her, his large lips gentle but insistent. It wasn't until she felt the softness of his lips that she realized there was something so hard within herself, a boulder she'd thought was immovable. She'd closed herself off as rigidly as the smooth maple wood of Mark's casket she'd trailed her hands upon before he was lowered into the earth.

How strange, that she would think of her brother now, in this moment. When a boy kissed her. But it felt natural, as she thought of him so often. Every experience she had was tainted by her memory of him, and yet ... and yet this one felt okay. Good, even. Like it was meant to be, and she was comforted that Noah somehow had caused her brother's lopsided grin to pop into her head.

She was glad Noah didn't use his tongue right away, at least not in her mouth. She wasn't into sloppy kissing, but Noah did everything right, and as he reached up in that way men do when they are so eager to cup your b.r.e.a.s.t.s, he whispered into her ear, "Are you on the pill?" and she whispered back, "No, it makes you fat. But I have condoms," and so that's what they used.

For the first time, Alexis Allbright had a man in her room other than Billy, and felt full of both homemade French toast and a tiny flicker of happiness. She allowed herself to unwind, to release into Noah. And he accepted her with such kindness, such gentle loving touches, she could barely entertain the notion that she'd only met him last night. It was only later, much later, that she realized she'd forgotten to input the calories of her breakfast into her phone app.

When she woke, the sun was. .h.i.tting the wall opposite her bed, and the blinds left shadows of lines on her white duvet. Outside, a taxi horn beeped and two men yelled at one another in Spanish. The M3 bus squealed to a stop a block down. Two women discussed where to go for afternoon tea. She guessed it was midafternoon. It felt strange to not be at the gym. She missed her locker room suddenly, and her pink weights, running on the treadmill. But this was good, too.

Rolling over, she realized she was alone in the bed, and she nuzzled her face deeper into her pillow, smelling Noah everywhere. What he'd done to her, the places where he'd kissed and stroked her ... he was so much more skilled and tender than the a.s.sholes she'd been seeing since she moved to New York. She felt she'd known him her whole life. She'd had an o.r.g.a.s.m so strong she'd dug her fingers into his shoulders deeply enough that he'd have marks. She smiled, remembering. She didn't even care how many wrinkles smiling was causing her. Surely s.e.x that scrumptious had been good for her body. She felt better than when Sarah put her through a grueling workout, or when she got a smorgasbord of positive comments on a Skinny Chick article or post. She felt the way one did after a cool shower on a hot day, after a full-body ma.s.sage.

Billy and Noah were in the living room discussing their favorite microbreweries, she could hear their voices as she walked in. It turned out Noah had a vast net of knowledge when it came to beers Alexis had never heard of. "In Colorado every bar brews its own beer," he was saying. "It's awesome. I want to bring that laid-back vibe to New York."

"I've got to get out there," Billy said. "Alexis and I go to Blind Tiger a lot to sample new beers. You should totally come with!" As Noah nodded his head enthusiastically (the man was so d.a.m.n cheerful!), Alexis studied Billy.

The dark circles underneath his eyes seemed less blue, and the sheen of sweat was gone from his face, but he still looked tired.

"Aldo called," Alexis said, leaning against the doorframe. Her hipbone jutted out and she rearranged her body so that the wood didn't poke her uncomfortably. Noah patted the seat beside him, but she pretended she didn't see. It was instinctual for her survival that she didn't let on how deeply he'd affected her. She was used to being the one in control, leaving the morning after in a cab. But here Noah was, still in her apartment. This made Alexis feel uneasy. She was in uncharted territory.

"Alexis, Noah has been baking up in here and you have to see the m.u.f.fins he made. They are amazing! I don't even care if I add inches to my hips. He's like the black Julia Child, I swear to G.o.d!"

Noah laughed. Alexis was amazed by how comfortable he was around Billy, having just met him, even though Billy was pressuring Noah to take a cue from the Naked Chef and bake a la fresco when he opened up his restaurant. They usually didn't engage in conversation with outsiders, preferring to spend time with each other.

"I don't think that guy actually is naked, he just calls himself that," Noah was saying, amused.

She walked over to the kitchen. There, cooling, were rows and rows of plump tan m.u.f.fins. They were beautiful and her stomach growled loudly. She quickly looked around for her bananas, took one off the microwave, and started cutting it.

"And he puts Guinness into them, too!" Billy exclaimed. "The man's a genius. Mr. Wu came by, and he's going to rent out the old fur store to Noah!"