chapter 9

As the days rolled by, the frequency of Alphonse and Rudolf’s lovemaking only intensified. They’d built a momentum that would have worn out any other couple. Rudolf would take half-days at the office, arriving home early to surprise Alphonse with bouquets of expensive flowers and other tokens of affection. In the twilight hours before dawn, Alphonse would find himself mounting his lover enthusiastically, wanting nothing more than to feel Rudolf inside of himself after a good night’s rest. Even with the increased exertion the intercourse provided, Rudolf was unable to quell his weight gain. Alphonse had managed to feed him more and more, excitedly cooking to show his happiness.

Al spent his days learning new recipes and keeping up the home. He’d been able to revive nearly every plant in the solarium. He learned new ways to remove stains from clothing items. He made sure every stray item had found a place in the large home. Tending to the home he’d built with Rudolf made him feel complete. He’d become confident of his position in the businessman’s life.

One afternoon in early March, Rudolf hurried through the doors of the townhouse, newspaper in hand. He knew Alphonse would be in the kitchen, practicing some new method for baking cakes or cookies or pies.

“You must read this,” Rudolf exclaimed, slightly winded. He’d rushed home from town to relay this news. He thrust the paper into Alphonse’s hands, ignoring the fact the young man was covered in flour.

Alphonse scanned the front page carefully, his eyes widening in disbelief. He took in the headline again. It read:

Badehaus Has Fallen. Deidrick Schroeder to Stand Trial.

The article wasn’t very forthcoming. It did not go into detail about how the events had occurred, just that Papa was being charged as an extortionist, a kidnapper, and a sex trafficker. Alphonse could hardly believe what he was reading. He thought of Alvin and Dorian and the other sons. What had happened to them? Where would they go? He wanted to find Alvin, but he had no idea where to even begin looking.

“This deserves celebration,” Alphonse said finally, setting the newspaper on the countertop.

“You act as if you need a reason to overfeed me.”

“True, I don’t need a reason, but it’s nice to have one.” Alphonse smiled softly at Rudolf, who wondered how the former bathhouse worker was taking the news.

The fall of the bathhouse stayed on Alphonse’s mind. After the initial news broke, he asked Rudolf to bring home the newspaper everyday so he could check for updates. There’d only been a few. Papa’s trial wouldn’t be until the fall, allowing the prosecution to build the strongest case possible. It would be when all the wealthiest families in town would return from their summer estates in the country. Alphonse wondered if Rudolf had a summer estate and if they’d spend the warmer months away from the town.

Alphonse had been to the tailor’s nearly two months ago to pick up their order. He would try on his suit almost daily while Rudolf was at the office, just for a few moments. In those five minutes, he’d feel worthy of his current place in life, like he truly belonged with Rudolf Blauvelt.

The time had finally come and putting on his suit was no longer a rehearsal. One Saturday evening in April, both Alphonse and Rudolf dressed for the opera. Alphonse stood transfixed by his image in a hallway mirror, like he hadn’t looked at himself in this very suit for weeks. He had a western style tie made of satin fabric that matched the navy suit. Rudolf had even gotten him a stylish pair of leather shoes. He couldn’t believe it. It seemed almost surreal.

As happy as Alphonse was, Rudolf was displeased. Even having asked the tailor to construct his garments with a few forgiving inches, his suit for the evening was not fitting the way he’d like. His pants could barely do up. He’d have to forgo the vest. He’d have to leave his jacket open. He sighed deeply and exited the bedroom.

“Are you ready Al?” he asked.

“Yes,” Alphonse responded still enraptured by his image in the mirror, his stomach in knots. Rudolf grabbed his hand, gaining Al’s full attention. “You look very dashing.”

Rudolf’s face reddened, glancing over at their images in the hallway mirror. How could Alphonse be happy with a man like him? Al’s hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, his face clearly displayed without his hair to distract from its magnificence. His suit fit perfectly. His suit didn’t look nearly ready to burst at the seams.

“You could have any man or woman you wanted,” Rudolf said, still holding Alphonse’s hand. “I may not be your best option.”

“You are truly the only man I want to be with for the rest of my life,” Alphonse said seriously.

“You speak honestly?” Rudolf asked, struggling to meet Alphonse’s gaze.

“I’d never lie to you,” Al replied. “I love you, Rudolf.”

Rudolf brought Alphonse’s hand to his lips and kissed it softly. Hearing those words from Alphonse was nearly enough to bring him to tears.

“I love you,” the businessman replied.

In that moment, they both wanted nothing more than to get undressed and spend the night in bed together, but they made their way out of the townhome and to the opera house. Once they arrived, the pair was surrounded by Rudolf’s associates. They conversed loudly in the lobby, laughing and slapping shoulders. Alphonse stood silently by the businessman’s side, wishing he were able to grab onto Rudolf’s supportive arm.

One of the men spoke to Rudolf in a language Alphonse didn’t understand.

“The boy, are you willing to lend him out for the evening?” Rudolf had been disinterested in the conversation before, but now Alphonse could tell he’d been offended by what the man had said. Alphonse was almost certain they’d said something referring to him.

“No, I am not.” Rudolf grabbed Alphonse by the arm and stormed off to his box in the theater.

“That man thought I was your whore, didn’t he?” Alphonse asked. It was dark, but Rudolf could hear the tears in Alphonse’s voice.

“Alphonse, you are not a whore,” Rudolf said, his voice low and deep. “I’ve never once thought of you that way, even when you lived in the bathhouse.”

They were silent, the murmur of the theatergoers building as everyone found their way to their seats. Rudolf knew their love would never be recognized by the church or state. People would choose to see their relationship in a way that didn’t make them uncomfortable. Alphonse would be seen as a ward. A relative. A servant. An assistant. Never what Rudolf truly considered him, his partner.

“If possible, we’d be married by now,” Rudolf said, expressing something he’d only been able to fantasize about.

“Really?” Alphonse asked. As much as he loved Rudolf, he feared that one day he’d grow tired of their homosexual dalliance and find a wife.

“Yes, really. Even if we can’t express it as we’d like.”

“That’s very romantic,” Alphonse replied, his heart full. “Did you read that in one of your novels?”

“Honestly, it’s as if we already are married,” Rudolf said, laughing gently. “We have a partnership of our own. You cook and clean and you take care of our home. You take care of me. We give to each other.”

“Yes, we do.”

The opera began and Alphonse felt more at ease. If the world was unable to see the value in their relationship, he had to remember that what he and Rudolf thought was most important. They sat back in their seats and listened as men and women gave their all on stage. It was an exciting experience for Alphonse, who would look in Rudolf’s direction every few minutes to see if he too was enjoying this as much as he was.

During intermission Alphonse made his way to the restroom. After finishing, the restroom attendant spoke directly to him.

“Alphonse!” the attendant exclaimed. “How’re you?”

Alphonse looked into the face of Alvin Baum. The Two Al’s were together again. Without words, they embraced one another.

“When did you—? How did you—? Are you—?” Alphonse had so many questions. He didn’t know which one to ask first.

That was when Alvin revealed the information he’d been privy to as a resident of the bathhouse. Papa had arranged for a new boy to take Dorian’s bedroom, moving Dorian into Alphonse’s old room. Dorian and his best client, the lawyer Burgess Pfeiffer, were much closer than many knew. The incident was just the push Dorian needed to leave the bathhouse for good. He and Pfeiffer leaked documents from Papa’s files, as well as written testimonies from a number of the sons and their families. Dorian and Burgess Pfeiffer had not been seen since, allegedly fleeing to a neighboring country. Alphonse couldn’t believe it. This story was more dramatic than the opera.

“That’s wonderful!” Alphonse said in awe. They exchanged addresses and he invited Alvin to come around for luncheon the next week.

“I can’t wait to see where you’re living these days,” Alvin said, taking in Alphonse’s expensive outfit once more.

“I’m very fortunate,” Alphonse replied, smiling at the thought of Rudolf.

The lights flickered, signaling the second act was about to begin. They embraced one another once more and Alphonse made his way back to where Rudolf waited for him. The rest of the opera, Alphonse could hardly focus. He was happy for both Dorian and Alvin, but he felt even more intensely happy for himself. He’d found a great man and the place that had brought him years of pain was no more. They left the opera house in a hurry, not wanting to be trapped in another round of dull conversation.