HENCHMEN

Dario Argento loved the evening. Evenings meant dinner, and dinner meant time alone with his husband, Edmund. Edmund Fisk, the love of Dario’s life, had been his significant for almost six years. Edmund was the caregiver of the two; dinners, washing, grocery buying, and keeping their small, modest apartment clean and homey. He was the perfect mate, and sometimes Dario could not understand what Edmund saw in him. Dario sometimes saw little to love in himself.

They had been together in wedded bliss for five years in The City. Two years before, getting to know one another, learning secrets, setting boundaries. Unfortunately, Dario had a lot of boundaries, but Edmund not only overlooked them, he somehow made Dario feel like his intimacy limits were a positive. Of course, Edmund constantly worked on those limits, chipping away at them. And bit by bit, there had been progress.

Dario’s family’s past was a private one, for example. Father, Mother, sister, brother, the unit had not been close. Dinners were silent affairs, only the sounds of supping and chewing reached across the table. Oh, there was the obligatory “How was your day?” or “How was school?” from their father, Bertman. But it became apparent to Dario at a young age, their father had little interest in the events of his day or those of his siblings.

He came home from work, an accountant at a large law firm in The City, waited for supper, then sat in his chair in front of the television and digested supper. Dario’s mother cooked the food, set the table, cleaned the table, and took care of every other necessity; the home, clothes, and shopping. He sometimes could not remember what his mother sounded like because she was so busy she had precious time for conversation.

But it was all cut and dry, clean and sober like they were a family playing at being a family. Love, warmth, affection, these were simply words Dario had no genuine concept of as a youngster. And, for the longest time, he thought that’s merely how a family was.

His parents were always present at graduations from class to class, sporting events, and other various school activities. And he supposed he and his siblings went without wanting for much. His father did bring home a healthy paycheck: the best schools, the best clothes, cars, tutors, the best of everything. But as a family unit, something always seemed missing. A warmth, the natural feel of- being bonded? They were like a model family, doing the right things and saying the right things like they were put together in a lab for display. See, this is what a family looks like and how one sounds.

But they were not a family, not in any fundamental sense.

And that, of course, was the root of all of Dario’s intimacy problems. After his first year in college, he felt distant from everyone and everything around him. At one point, he decided his destiny was inescapable. He would be one of those clean, straight-laced older men who had never tasted life, never felt the joy of love wrap him up like a warm blanket and allow him to sleep with another soul’s secrets on his tongue or in his heart. No, he would be the man in the smartly creased, plain brown suit and matching shoes on The City commuter bus or subway, never checking his cell (what reason would he have) and sitting with a daily paper under his arm. Always neat, always tidy, never in conversation with another.

Of course, Edmund saved him from that lonely destiny.

Dario met Edmund in an Adult Education class in his third year at The City University. AE classes were offerings by the University to broaden one’s more esoteric pursuits. Classes ranged from Dog Walking to Calligraphy, from Mastering Social Media to Mixing the Perfect Cocktail. Dario was first smitten by Edmund in a European Cuisine Made Easy class; over his badly botched and overly burnt Eisbein. A boiled pork knuckle with a red wine cabbage side, the German cuisine looked like a dehydrated dog’s cock. The entree tasted like, though Dario could not be sure, a dehydrated dog’s cock. A fantastic fright, a glorious mess, Edmund took pity on Dario, comforting him with encouraging words and even going so far as to taste his ghastly concoction.

Dario remembered Edmund swallowing the Eisbein and watched as the color drained from his face as it hit his stomach like a punch to the gut.

“It’s- interesting,” Edmund told him, the smile on his face so forced it hurt Dario to watch. They chuckled as Edmund spit the remaining knuckle into the closest wastebasket, then laughed until their sides hurt over Dario’s disaster. Then, they enjoyed themselves supping on Edmund’s Belgium Moules-Frites.

It was love after the last bite of potato: hard, fast, straight, genuine, and sometimes painful love. Initially, it was indescribable simply because Dario had no frame of reference for it, having no idea what real love felt like or how it tasted. But there it was, cooked up sweet and delectable in a two-hour evening class.

A whirlwind romance of epic proportions, after four months of dinners, theaters, and heated embraces on Lovers’ Bridge over the downtown river, they moved in together in Edmunds’s downtown apartment. Space was at a premium, but Dario didn’t carry much baggage with him, as both their lives fit in the expensive one-bedroom efficiency apartment. Then, Dario introduced Edmund to his family at Edmund’s insistence.

“I must know what I’m in for,” he had said jokingly.

It wasn’t a joke to Dario. He wasn’t embarrassed by his family, but they had so little to do with his life after he left for college. Why did he need to indulge them now? They rarely called or visited. When they did, it was a ‘How are you?’ and a handshake. They were never interested in the color of his life away from home; they showed no interest in it when he was home. It surprised him so much when they met Edmund and fawned all over him, making his stay at their home as comfortable and enjoyable as possible. For God’s sake, his mother even brought out the family photo album and pointed out all of Dario’s baby pictures. “Here he is at five with long blonde hair, so cute. Everyone thought he was a baby girl,” and “Here he is on his first day of school. He fretted all day over his suit and the cut of his hair,” and “Here he is with his brother and sister at the amusement park. I can’t wait for you to meet them. They will love you!” His mother spilled family secrets Dario didn’t remember, while his father plied Edmund with Metropolitans and Harvey Wallbangers from his private corner bar. The one they were never allowed within ten feet of as kids.

It floored Dario! He didn’t even know his parents possessed a family photo album.

The return home to The City was surreal. Edmund went on a hundred miles an hour about how gracious and amazing his parents were as Dario sat in silence. In his head, he kept asking himself the same question. Who the hell were those people in his parent’s home?

Edmund fell in love with Dario’s family. It was easy to do, for Edmund had no family of his own.

After graduation, Dario took his law degree and found work at a small but prestigious firm doing mainly Pro Bono work representing environmental organizations and causes. The pay was beyond horrible, but the word of mouth of his excellent work was perfect for a young lawyer on the move.

Edmund found a job in the HR department of YAZ Motors, one of the largest electric automobile manufacturers in the East. His pay was only slightly better than horrible.

In four years, with advances and pay raises, they moved uptown to a slightly larger two-bedroom. In year five, they married. It was a small, simple affair; Dario’s parents, his sister, and his brother stood in as best man. Edmunds’s few close friends were present. The ceremony was in his parent’s home, and the cake was half vanilla and half orange creme- delectable. They honeymooned in Riviera Maya, Mexico, his father paying for the entire trip.

After his father presented him with the tickets, Dario went to his childhood room, sat on the edge of his bed, and cried for ten minutes.

Year seven was eventful. They both decided to take their lives down a different road. They opened up a franchise learning center for gifted students. The business was a success right away. Dario handled the business end while Edmund tutored students and managed quality control. In their second year, they had to turn parents away, their waiting list half a mile long. At the beginning of their third year, Edmund hit Dario with a surprise, like a punch to the gut. Edmund wanted to expand their family.

They spent long nights talking about adding on to their family unit of two. Edmund wanted, needed, a child, and Dario, not so much. Honestly, he liked the dynamic as it stood, the two of them. Dario jabbed Edmund with the facts; his childhood was nothing he cared to remember or pass on to another soul. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to be a parent. Edmund countered as he always did.

“Please, Dario, I need this. And please don’t sell yourself short. You’d be a fabulous father.”

Edmund’s arguments, as thin as they were, won out. Edmund always won out, and that’s how much Dario loved him.

They made plans, truckloads of documents were signed, and meeting after meeting with adoption caseworkers booked and met. After months of paperwork, the caseworkers told them they would make perfect parents. They put Dario and Edmund on a waiting list.

Then COVID hit.

Their business suffered as so many did. A hundred and sixty-four students dropped to twenty-four, then dropped some more. They injected money into the company to keep them afloat, money from savings, cashed out CDs and even borrowed money.

They survived but eventually decided they needed an extra cash flow for the business and to keep the adoption caseworkers happy. They agreed Dario would take a new job.

But what job? And with the paycheck he needed for his present and future family, where would he find such a job?

As often happens in such instances, fate lent a hand.