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Writer's pictureFern

Romeos

Updated: Jul 20

I waited at a light on 9W in Kingston, checking out the new businesses that had replaced the ‘gone’ ones, a frequent occurrence on this main strip. Bed, Bath and Beyond is now LL Bean; Pier One is now Michael’s, and Barnes and Noble moved over last year to what was the Olive Garden, while car dealerships appear to flourish, often ‘refreshing’ their buildings to showcase the bright, shiny cars amidst groomed landscapes and colorful balloons. The VW dealership to my left looked whiter if possible. I noticed the name on the building: Romeo. The light changed, I went on my way to Target, one of a few stores left of what used to be part of the Hudson Valley Mall. Now the Mall exits mainly as a place to go and walk, with its carpeting and mural sized photos of old Kingston spread across the walls. Anchor stores, Macy’s, Sears, and JC Penny's, moved out years ago. Victoria’s Secret, Old Navy, H&M, hairdressers, nail salons, chocolate shops, shoe stores, jewelry kiosks, all gone. My optometrist remains, one of a few stores in the ghost like mall. Romeo. When I was a young mom with toddlers, I'd heard about the childhood friend of The Ex named Andy Romeo. Cool name. They'd grown up in the same neighborhood in Brooklyn.

Andy Romeo had gone on to executive status, becoming a vice president at the now defunct Horn & Hardart, the Automats that could be found in Manhattan in the fifties and sixties.

As a kid  I’d thrilled to choose a sandwich or dessert (chocolate cream pie) from a little glass cubby; my dad let me put the coins in, open the door, and take my food. Magic! Andy Romeo had hired The Ex, his old friend, as Plant Manager, which lasted for a couple of years before H &H folded.

After that Andy hired The Ex to do painting and wallpapering at his apartment on Sutton Place in NYC. Sutton Place sits along the East River between 53rd and 59th streets and has been home to a lengthy laundry list of celebrities, tycoons and those with big bucks. It has been described as swanky, among other accolades.  The Ex worked there for a few months (it was a large apartment) and would come home and entertain me and the toddlers, with stories of how the other half lives. He nicknamed Andy’s wife Ina the Hyena, mostly to amuse the toddlers, but he enjoyed their two little boys who got into plenty of mischief in the apartment. When we were invited to their Christmas party, I was excited. What does a twenty nine year old Jersey gal wear to a cocktail party on Sutton Place? If I recall (though I’d rather not) I wore some striped number with a matching turban; well, it was the seventies. The apartment was larger than any house I’d ever been in. The Ex proudly showed me around to all the work he'd done. The rooms went on and on. I met the Hyena, who was lovely, tall, model thin, with very white skin, black hair and dark red lips, reminding me of Snow White. She smiled coolly and told us to circulate. I wandered off as I do, ending up in a room that looked like a living room, though I’d already seen another one. I attempted to glide gracefully with a cocktail in my hand, smiling and weaving through guests who stood in small groups throughout the room, by the piano, the fireplace, and in front of tall, mahogany bookcases. But I needed a break from my platform shoes and the gorgeous moss green velvet couch was unoccupied. I admired the black and white fur pillow that lay casually on the couch, a little touch of whimsey in an otherwise conservative room. Maybe the Hyena had a sense of humor after all. Careful with my cocktail, I’d sat almost all the way down when I felt the fluffy pillow came alive under me. YIP! YIP! YIP! I leaped up as a little black and white dog jumped down and scrambled wildly out of the room. 

 

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