If you googled the word “milk toast,” the first image that popped up would be that of Henri Laurent. It was not entirely his fault. Most of the blame rested with his mother, Claudia. Granted, Henri allowed her to control his life long after he reached puberty, but he was bred that way. His mother, Claudia, made sure of it. She ruled with an iron fist and a sailor’s mouth.

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For the first few years, Claudia dressed him as a girl. She even referred to him in public as her little princess. Henry didn’t protest. He was too young to understand how he was being treated. In his small head, all little boys were princesses. He had no friends. The other children he brought home to play were soon terrified of Claudia, and never returned. He was, as she often called him, “Her little Puppy,” and she kept him on a very short leash. He seldom strayed beyond the confines of their apartment in Cologne.

Henri was a sweet, soft-spoken little boy, rather shy and eager to please. His father was gone by the age of five, so he had no real memories of him. Claudia told him his father died in an automobile accident. The truth was her husband ended up marrying the woman who gave birth to Henri. He was now in prison, serving a thirty-year sentence for tax evasion and fraud. Claudia was mortified. She decided it was in Henri’s best interest to think him dead.

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He spent hours in his room, playing with imaginary friends, constantly drawing little stick figures trapped in rooms of a house that was on fire. His mother couldn’t figure it out. Was he the son of a pyromaniac? Were there genes hidden somewhere in that little subconscious that cried out to burn something down? She took him to a child psychologist, who determined the burning house represented a feeling of being trapped in a difficult environment. He advised her to spend more time with her son; to show him unconditional love and, most importantly, reassure him that he was safe.  Claudia considered this diagnosis to be hogwash and demanded her money back.  

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Life continued for our unfortunate boy. Claudia corrected him so much that, at the age of seven, he quit talking. He went two months without saying so much as two words, even at school. His teachers were concerned. They talked to Claudia about his eccentric behavior. Claudia was not concerned; she was angry. How dare her little puppy bring this unwarranted attention upon her? How was she to blame? She was trying her best. Finally, he began talking again, if for no other reason than to hear a voice other than his mother’s.

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Only once did he have a real childhood friend. A little boy named Eric who lived in the same apartment complex. Henri felt different playing with him. He was also soft-spoken, kind, and sweet-natured. What Henri didn’t know was that Eric’s mother was a carbon copy of Claudia, and so the boys were bonding over their shared misery. Their friendship lasted almost a year until Eric’s mother committed suicide. His father couldn’t handle the responsibility of raising a little boy on his own, so he shipped him off to live with relatives in London. Henri never heard from him again. Once again, Henri was adrift in his own little make-believe world with little stick figures in houses set ablaze.

 

He attended high school and did well academically but failed to make friends. He joined the chess club, which was fun, as he had taught himself to play and was fairly good. After high school, he attended the University of Cologne. It was his first taste of independence, and he relished it. He dated a little, but he was so shy that any relationship was doomed before it began. He graduated and moved back in with his mother, taking a job as a teacher’s assistant at a local high school. He preferred getting his own place to live, but with his meager salary, he couldn’t afford it. Claudia was not about to help. She cut off his allowance once he graduated, and as far as she was concerned, he had been on the gravy train long enough.

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Soon, Henri was a 35-year-old virgin. He tried to date girls, but first they had to pass the “Claudia Test.” Claudia insisted that before he dated anyone, he bring them home for a cocktail and a chat. Claudia began evaluating them the moment they stepped through the door. Were they pretty enough? Were they well-mannered? Did they wear the right clothes and speak the right language? Who were her parents? Were they wealthy? Few girls made the first cut, and those who did quickly ran for the hills once they found out that dating Henri meant also dating his mother.

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And so Henri Laurent lived a life of quiet desperation. He longed to find a way to impress his mother with his manhood, but the opportunity never came. One fateful day, however, Henri was grocery shopping at a local market when he met the nicest girl. She was attractive, witty, and most of all interested in him. She actually invited him for a cup of coffee. He accepted, and they had a wonderful conversation. She thought him funny and sweet. After several coffees and a few lunches, he invited her home to meet the beast. Surprisingly, it went well. This woman met all the qualifications Claudia sought in a woman. She was dubious of her motives, however, as she was clearly out of Henri’s league. But she indulged her son, giving him her stamp of approval.

 

Henri and the woman became fast friends, then lovers. The one time they slept together was a night he would remember forever. At long last, was it possible that there was a woman in the world who accepted Henri for what he was? Not as a princess or a puppy, but as a human being. He was sure this relationship would last forever.

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The woman’s name was Lisette Bellamy.