“No longer stuck. Just… lost.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice to find something in between?”
I wanted to respond in a meaningful way, maybe grab his hand to show I understood, but I did neither.
“Yes, it would.”
When we got back, I prepared dinner—grilled chicken served with a spoonful of goat cheese and a side of broccoli. Arden’s stories picked up again in the living room where he was sprawled along the length of the couch. Much like the clothes he modeled, he had the ability to make furniture look as though it had been crafted to ensure his comfort.
“We were at this one island in the Bahamas,” Arden was saying, “Allen’s Cay, where there were no people, only iguanas, and some of them were huge—like small dinosaurs. And I was scared of them. I’d never seen so many. And they were a little aggressive too because they were used to being fed by the visitors. My dad kept teasing me about one of them biting off a finger, or if I waded into the shallow water, my nuts. Because the fuckers could swim, and all you’d really see was their heads bobbing above the water. He knew I was terrified of them, and he just kept at it.
“Finally, I got sick of his bullshit, and I went on land to prove I wasn’t scared. I went up to a big ole daddy iguana and tried to pet it. The fucker snapped at me, and I screamed bloody murder. I busted the ketchup packet in my hand—my dad always hoarded stuff like that—so it looked like real blood.”
Arden laughed diabolically while I could only wait in suspense.
“My dad freaked the fuck out until I showed him my finger was fine, and it was only a prank. Then he slapped me upside the head, the only time he’d ever hit me. I bawled like a baby. I’d never been hit in my life. I didn’t talk to him for two days after.” Arden sighed. “Later, I realized that maybe he did give a shit about me after all. My limbs at least—he’d hate having to go to the doctor. Whenever he did something nice, he’d say that he was only doing it for my mother, but he was a liar.”
I thought about my own father’s way of showing affection, which was to hound me about my studies, and later, my career prospects, and now, my next book. I shared that with Arden.
“He’s really invested in your career,” he said.
“It would have been better for everyone if they’d had another child. Or if my father had remarried. Then he could spread that intensity around a bit.”
“Do you think all fathers want their sons to grow up just like them?”
“One of their sons at least.”
“Why do you think that is? Pride?”
“And ego. I read somewhere that men feel they need to leave behind a legacy, whether it’s through their children or their empires. Italians are notoriously obsessed with the achievements of their sons. My mother once told me she was so relieved that I was a boy because it meant she wouldn’t have to have any more children.”
“That’s fucked up,” Arden said. His gaze drifted to the window. Night had fallen without me even noticing. “You’re lucky though, to still have your father. I wish I did.”
“We argue all the time.”
“It’s still something though. Without him, there’s just… nothing.” Arden sighed. “I miss that the most. My dad barking at me to do something or not do something. He gave me direction. And discipline. At times he was like a drill sergeant, but I needed it. I’ve been a little off course ever since.”
I wanted to ask him something, but I held back.
“What?” Arden said, sensitive to my impulses.
“Does your benefactor do that for you? Give you structure?” I was going to say discipline, but I didn’t want for it to be misconstrued.
Arden considered it. “Kind of, but it’s not the same.”
“Why not?”
Arden glanced down at his iced tea. “I don’t know how to say this delicately.”
“I’ll keep my opinions to myself.”
Arden smirked. “Yes, you’re classy that way.”
“It’s the way I was raised. My father has many powerful and eccentric friends. If you don’t have anything nice to say…”
“Well, Matteo met me at my worst and decided it was a shame to let such beauty go to waste. That was what he told me, anyway. He felt like he was acting in the public’s best interest in getting me off the streets, which I’ve always thought was kind of hilarious, but aesthetics are important to him. I think he takes some pride in my accomplishments, but more so as it relates to him. I’m like a living before and after shot. I think if we didn’t have the arrangement that we do, and if I didn’t have such an appreciation for what he’s done for me, we would have drifted apart.”
There was a lot of history between them, and a sense of debt that went beyond money owed. I didn’t know at the time if their relationship was sexual or not; I only assumed it was.
