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His steps fade as he saunters down the hall. While I’d love to stay up with Daddy some more, we both know I need sleep. Besides, knowing he’s still here and we can spend time together in the morning makes it easy to give in to the inevitable. My exhaustion creeps in, washing over me like fog, and my eyes drift closed, sleep coming for me quickly.
??????
I wake with a full bladder. My incessant need to pee is only slightly overshadowed by the sound of pots and pans clanging in the kitchen. It takes approximately zero-point-two seconds to go from confused and worried to excited when I remember Daddy is still here.
I roll out of bed and grab Luna before skirting off to the bathroom. Setting Luna on the sink, I do my business before holding him by the wing and shuffling to the kitchen. I round the corner, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, to find Daddy plating a stack of fluffy pancakes.
“Morning, Daddy,” I say.
He spins on his heel, spatula in one hand, plate in the other, and a broad smile breaking over his face. “Good morning, baby bat. How’d you sleep?”
“Good.” The word stretches on a yawn as I wake up more. “Smells yummy in here.”
“I was about to come wake you. Why don’t you and Luna sit at the table, and I’ll bring you your plate.”
“Okay, Daddy.” At the table, I prop Luna in my lap and watch as Daddy moves around my kitchen confidently and with far more energy than anyone should have this early in the morning.
Within a few seconds, a plastic plate and sippy cup appear in front of me. Daddy must have found my little cupboard because this red plate with the baby Dracula faces is mine. There are bite-size pieces of pancake in the biggest section, scrambled eggs in another, and sliced strawberries in the last.
Leaving my food untouched, I blink up at Daddy, eyes burning.
“What’s wrong, baby bat?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head to ward off the emotions. “This is so nice.”
“One of the many benefits of Daddy,” he says. “Now eat up. If you finish all your food and the orange juice, I will make you some coffee.”
“Oh yes!” I lift the matching fork and stab a bite of pancake, dipping it into the small syrup container before shoving it in my mouth.
“Don’t get too excited.” Daddy laughs at my enthusiasm, stepping to the counter to grab his plate before joining me at the table. “After breakfast, we’re going to work on your schedule and lay out some rules for my baby bat.”
I’d complain about the rules and adult conversation, but I’m too wrapped up in Daddy’s caretaking. This feels too good to spoil with thoughts that are big Tanner’s problem. Instead, I keep quiet, munching happily on this delicious food Daddy made special for me.
Our breakfast is quiet, filled with peaceful domesticity. We’re only a few hours into this dynamic, and I’m struggling to remember why I was so against it.
We make it halfway through breakfast before reality sinks in. All my concerns come rearing their ugly heads at once as my cell phone rings from the counter. The special tone I assigned for work is louder, echoing persistently as Daddy and I both turn to where the sound is coming from.
Not now.
THIRTEEN
Tanner pushesaway from the table, his feet dragging so slowly to the counter I have to check to be sure he’s not weighed down with cement shoes. He misses two calls by the time he reaches his phone. The damn thing doesn’t stop. There are less than four seconds of reprieve from the ringtone before it starts again.
On the third call, Tanner picks up the phone and answers, “Hello, this is Tanner Morgan.” He pauses, listening to the response, wincing as whoever is on the other side of the call barks across the line.
“Apologies, Mr. Havers, my phone was charging in the other room.”
A longer silence. The only outward reactions from Tanner are a deepening frown and closed eyes.
“It won’t happen again. I can be there to pick up the file as soon as possible.” There’s a brief, clipped response, and the call ends without a goodbye. Tanner tosses the device on the counter, staring at it with his back to me.
“Baby bat?”
Tanner sucks in a deep breath, his shoulders rising with the movement, then spins on his heel to face me. I jump out of my chair and rush for him when I see the angry red splotches of color on his face and tears tracking down his cheeks. Within seconds, I’m wrapping my arms around him.
Where I expect him to sink into the embrace, cuddle closer, and perhaps melt into Daddy for a minute, he starts pushing me away. Hands planted on my chest, he steps back, forcing me to break the hold. I give him the space he’s silently asking for, even if I want nothing more than to keep him secure while he works through his emotions.
“Hey, hey, what’s this?”
