Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
I cupped his cheek and turned his face to look at me. “Baby bear, there's a reason why I had those things for you to use.”
His jaw dropped when realization hit him. “I guess I was too sick to question it at first. Then I was too grateful and excited. So that means you like them too?”
I didn't think his eyes could get any larger, but he proved me wrong when I answered, “Not for myself.”
“So that means…you're…you're a…”
“A Daddy,” I supplied when he struggled.
“Oh no.” Okay, that wasn't the reaction I was hoping for. “I'm using someone else's things.”
Thankfully, it was an easy fix. “No, Tatum; these things are all yours. I've been gathering special items to share with my very special boy.”
“And you think that's me?”
“I know it's you,” I corrected. “From the moment I heard your voice from up in that tree, I knew you were the one for me.” The words struck my curiosity. “How did you end up in the woods?”
“When Dad told me to leave, he made me leave my phone and car keys behind. He only let me take the clothes on my back. I didn't have any money for a place to stay, so I decided to camp out in the nearby woods until I found another job and saved up some cash.”
He added sheepishly, “We used to go camping a lot when I was younger, and I remember how to pitch a tent. I…took it from Dad's shed without permission. I was too afraid to sleep in the woods without some kind of shelter.”
I was proud of him for looking out for his needs. The ironic, fucked up thing was that I knew his father would be proud as well. Because that was his whole sick purpose of dismissing Tatum; to force him to take initiative. Yes, Tatum was an adult, but there were other ways to help him. Instead of speaking with him or giving guidance, his father instilled guilt and went to extremes.
I wondered how Tatum’s life would have been different if his mother survived. He would surely be happier with her support and love, but I would give him those things and more. I couldn’t help but wonder how she would react to his needs, and took a leap to ask, “Did you ever tell your mom about the things you like?”
“I told her everything,” he replied quietly. “But not until I’d figured everything out for myself. I researched if something was wrong with me, and whether or not there were other people like me out in the world.” It broke my heart to hear that Tatum had assumed his desires were ‘wrong’. “I learned all about littles and Daddies. I was so excited, but nervous at the same time. I knew I needed to talk to someone; to her. I could always talk to her about everything. One day we were out to lunch, and I blurted it all out.”
“What happened?” I asked, praying she had a better reaction than his father.
Tatum’s eyes grew misty as he answered, “She didn’t fully understand, but she also didn’t judge. She said that all she ever wanted for me was happiness, and that she wished for me to find the best Daddy in the world.”
Relief rushed through me, along with sadness. “I wish I could have met her. She sounds like a remarkable woman.” What a great place the world would be if more people were like her; offering kindness instead of hate.
“I asked her not to tell Dad; I didn’t think he could handle it, and she agreed. I hated hiding a part of myself, but I knew once I was out on my own, I could fully live the way I wished. But after I lost her, I just couldn't move on. I was broken, and not strong enough to leave the place where we'd made so many memories.”
I kissed the side of his head and hugged him tighter, but made sure I wasn't hurting him. “I want to hear all of your memories of her.” I hoped talking about them would bring him comfort.
“One of my favorites happened about five years ago. It was finals week of my sophomore year, and I was stressed about my math test. Mom helped me study every night, and she could tell how nervous I was. The evening before my exam, I went into my bedroom and found the container of Play-Doh on my pillow. I squished and molded it for hours before I fell asleep, and the next day, I was relaxed and focused enough to ace my test.”
I could understand why it was his favorite memory; his mother saw and accepted him for exactly who he was. She let him know that his desires were okay, and gifted him something that brought him comfort for years.