Page 93 of Saving Sophia

This one was the right size for my mouth, pink with an image of a heart-shaped lock on the front part.

He took one of my hands in his. “No pressure. I thought you might like it, to help you think. I know you get frustrated when your mouth gets ahead of you or trips you up when you’re worried. This can help you slow down till you’re ready to talk. You might also find it soothing. And it can help you feel very small and special, when it’s only the two of us.”

He tipped my chin up and looked down at me, his eyes warm and accepting. “And only if you want to try it. I want you, and your Little, however you’re happiest.”

A cloud lifted in my mind; my mental sky clearing. It wasn’t about being something for him. It was about loving and being me.

I wanted this—for me. And so did he. He didn’t want me to be a baby for his amusement, he wanted me to feel safe. Comfortable.

I stared at the pacifier in its box. People chewed gum and vaped and bit their nails and did all kinds of things to ease anxiety. Was this so different?

He sat next to me, watching me process. Morning sun dappled the skin across his broad shoulders. His fingers steepled together, patient, waiting for me. Giving me all that I needed.

I stood up and approached him, the edge of his shirt fluttering along my thighs in the light breeze. When he stood too, I pressed myself against him. I lifted my arms around his neck, going on tiptoe to give him a slow, open kiss.

“Thank you, Daddy,” I whispered. “For everything.”

* * *

I chose the green outfit, deciding I would ease into things and follow my feelings. And knowing that I had an undersea pineapple covering my sore butt beneath my skirt made me happier than I could have imagined. Knowing he knew too only made it better.

We pulled into the parking lot by the main building, and I noticed the sunshine dancing across the hood of his big SUV.

“Daddy,” I said, not tired of the little thrill it gave me to call him that.

“Yes, baby?”

“I thought it always rained in Seattle?”

He got out of the car to open my door for me. When he got there, he nuzzled my neck, scratching me with the stubble he hadn’t shaved when we were getting ready. “That’s our best kept secret.”

I giggled and kissed his rough cheek.

His office was at the end of a long hallway on the third floor of the big main building. Like everything here, it had amazing potential, if you squinted past the burgundy carpet and dark wood walls.

“Evie, I didn’t mean it that way, I?—”

“You never mean anything, Hayden. Just forget it.”

We were walking toward the partially open door and right into an argument.

Awkward.

“Hello,” Daddy called out as a warning we were coming in.

“Good morning, Ethan.” Evie’s mask slipped into place when we walked in, her hands smoothing her perfect, tailored black skirt. I tugged at the fabric of mine, almost wishing I’d worn the business-y skirt—almost.

“Hey bro, nice digs,” Hayden sounded cool and composed. “Nicer than the station for sure.” He nodded toward me, his normally straight face flickering with a faint hint of amusement beneath his beard. “Hello Sophia. He taking good care of you?”

My cheeks flushed, but Daddy put his arm around me, and Hayden’s thin mouth turned up into an almost-smile. “And what about Callie? Did she stay put up here like I asked?”

“Helloo?” A loud female voice echoed down the hallway before the door opened.

He smirked. “Ahh, speak of the devil …”

Callie waltzed in, pulling large, round sunglasses down her nose and taking in the scene. Her blond waves bounced as she walked. Daddy’s words echoed in my head.

No more guilt or bad feelings. Just tell the truth.

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