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“Yay! I love presents,” she told Mister ’Pollo.
“Most Littles do. I’ll go get ’em, I left them on the porch in case this wasn’t a good time.”
“Are you a Daddy, Mister ’Pollo?”
“You asking because of my hair?”
Mister ’Pollo grinned and ran his fingers through his close-cropped more-salt-than-pepper locks, and Cricket giggled in response.
“No. You just seem like you know a lot about Littles is all. But you don’t have a Little here so I didn’t know for sure.”
Mister ’Pollo’s brows drew together. Had she hit on a sore spot? She hadn’t meant to—
“I am a Daddy. But you’re right, I don’t have a Little here. Or anywhere for that matter. Well, I guess I shouldn’t say that. I’m sure she’s out there somewhere, I just haven’t found her yet.”
“You will,” Cricket told him.
She’d been through enough that she didn’t always trust her own judgment about people—especially Daddies—but somehow she was almost certain Mister ’Pollo would be a good one.
“Thanks. And when I do, I hope she’s cute as a button like you.”
“But maybe doesn’t barf on planes?” she offered.
“That’d be nice,” Mister ’Pollo agreed. “But it’s not a dealbreaker. Now let me see about those presents.”
It was only a minute before he was back from the porch, which was good because Cricket was already dying of anticipation. What could he have brought her?
In one hand he had something small, and in the other was something that looked like a massive wooden cutting board or maybe an easel because it had a handle cut out of the top. Oh dear, she was not a good artist. Daddy liked her pictures but she thought he must be required to by International Daddy Law or something. She had no other explanation.
Mister ’Pollo held out the small item, which she could see now was a blue-ish greenish clear ball.
“This is a glass fishing float. Back in the day, fishermen used to tie these to their nets to keep them buoyant. They came off all the time and a lot of ’em ended up on beaches. You don’t find ’em so much anymore but I was out scouring a little beach over the summer and found this. Thought you might like it.”
“I do. It’s so pretty. And it’s so special. Are you sure you don’t want to keep it? Maybe for your Little when you find her?”
Mister ’Pollo shrugged. “That’s sweet of you to think of, Cricket, but I’d rather someone enjoy it now. You just promise me when I bring my Little girl back here, you’ll be friends with her, okay?”
“Promise!”
“That’s a good girl. Be careful now,” Mister ’Pollo told her, handing over the float. “It survived a whole trip across the ocean, but you still don’t want to test how tough it is by dropping it on the floor.”
“I’ll be super careful with it. And I’ll find an extra safe place to keep it where I can still see it all the time. Daddy will help. Right, Daddy?”
“Of course, babygirl,” her Daddy agreed fondly. “And what do you say to Mister ’Pollo?”
“Thank you, Mister ’Pollo,” she singsonged, and he smiled back at her.
He was a nice man, even if being on his plane made her sick. And handsome too, in a friendlier, softer way than her Daddy. Some Little girl was going to be lucky to have him for her Daddy.
Cricket was so distracted by her pretty fishing float that she almost forgot about the other—bigger—present Mister ’Pollo had brought. Then he turned it around and wow, that wasn’t a cutting board or an easel.
There was a black cushion of that covered almost the entire surface of the board, as well as a bunch of hardware like metal rings screwed into the border. It looked both fun and evil. At a place like Enclave, she supposed that made sense.
“This is maybe more for your Daddy than for you,” Mister ’Pollo said, eying the weird piece of wood. “It’s an enema board. You can keep it out of the way in the bathroom, and when you need it, you can put it on the floor or a changing table or…wherever.”
Mister ’Pollo and her Daddy shared a wicked grin, and Cricket felt a pulse between her legs.
“The cushion is vinyl so it makes for easy cleanup, and the hardware should be spaced well enough for just about any position you could want to bind a Little girl in. If you need more rings, just holler. I’ve got plenty where that came from.”
