the perfectly lovely and modern dinnerware my mother had gifted to me when I’d moved into my first apartment.
After arranging the apple in a neat circle, I grabbed the peanut butter from the cabinet and scooped a large dollop into the center of the plate. I tilted my head and studied my work. I had tried to make it look like a flower, and it did—if I squinted.
Good enough.
I placed the plate at the counter for when Miller returned.
Opening the cabinet once more, I reached for a sippy cup, but a slight movement out of the corner of my eye drew my attention. Looking toward the hallway, I caught the briefest glimpse of Miller’s face before he ducked back behind the wall.
The first meeting between little and Daddy was always a little delicate. I knew it was hard to turn off the adult inside that said it was weird for another adult to see you dressing and acting like a kid. I’d found that littles always needed just that extra bit of encouragement and acceptance before finally coming out of their shell.
Propping myself against the counter, I smiled. “I saw you,” I sang teasingly and waited for his reaction.
A giggled floated through the air. “No you didn’t.”
“Well, if it wasn’t you, then who was it?”
Sprinkles sprang out from behind the wall, Miller’s hand controlling her movements. “Me!”
“Oh,” I said, playing along. “Then I guess Sprinkles is the one who gets to help me make cookies later. I hope she likes chocolate because I need a taste tester to make sure it’s still good.”
Baking cookies together sounded like a first easy step to me. Besides, we had worked so well in the kitchen so far that having our first playdate there made sense to me.
“I will,” he said, jumping out from behind the wall.
And there he fucking was.
The t-shirt he wore was white and patterned with little strawberries, the hem of which barely touched the waistband of his pink tulle skirt. A large, silken bow danced in the air behind him as he rocked in place. His feet were bare on the floor, and not that I had a foot fetish, but I really wanted to nibble on his little toes.
Okay, I thought as I imagined painting them, maybe I do have a foot fetish.
“Aren’t you the cutest little boy I’ve ever seen,” I said, realizing my stunned silence was making him nervous. “And what’s your name?” I asked, wondering if he had a little name he preferred to be called when in a little headspace.
He looked away from me, shook his head, and then shrugged as he worried Sprinkles’s ear between his fingers.
I couldn’t tell if that was a yes, no, or maybe. “Well?” I pushed.
“What about…” His free hand fisted his skirt as he swayed from side to side. “What do you think about… about Emmie?”
“Emmie?” I stepped closer and placed my hands on his hips, stilling his nervous fidgeting. Pulling him into me, I studied his upturned face. “Emmie. My little Emmie. I like it. It fits.”
His smile was so pure and happy.
I dropped a swift kiss to his forehead and forced myself to take a step back. I gestured toward the counter behind me. “I made you a little snack.”
“Oh.” He skipped around me, the tulle of his skirt brushing against my leg. “I love apples and peanut butter. Yummy.”
Climbing up into his seat, he placed Sprinkles next to his plate, swung his legs back and forth as he studied each slice, and then made his selection.
Remembering his drink, I returned to the kitchen and snagged a lavender sippy cup from the shelf. Going all out of the pizza party theme, I opened the refrigerator and pulled out a can of soda. Cracking the top, I took a drink and then poured the rest into his cup. I drained the last dregs remaining in the can, tossed it into the trash, and then screwed the lid onto his cup. I ran a damp towel around the outside to catch any stray drops that I might have spilled so his hands wouldn’t get sticky and then placed the cup in front of Mi—Emmie.
“Here you go, little Emmie.” I made sure to repeat his name to get it to stick.
Emmie held the piece of apple in his hand to his lips as he chewed what was in his mouth and stared at the sippy cup.
Moment of truth, I thought as I noticed a slight tremor in his hand as