Page 4 of Colby's Lost Binky

In my exuberance, I was an hour early for work. Not wanting to watch the clock tick by at a snail’s pace, I went straight into the kitchen and started on the dishes. There was something relaxing about the task. Once they were all washed and put away, I worked on the floors then morning prep, and finally it was time for my shift to begin.

“It’s go time.” I took a deep breath.

I wasn’t going to do anything that would upset my sister. She deserved better than that. But I wasn’t going to give up the opportunity to meet some people in the community. I might not have enough money to join the local club, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t meet a potential friend or two. It would be nice having someone to talk to…someone who wasn’t related to me.

Chapter Four

Barrister

After my evening with friends at Chained, my determination to have a life beyond work grew. But a flu outbreak challenged my plans. Dr. Stanley wanted to help, but at his age, even vaccinated, his vulnerability worried me, so I limited his participation to video appointments. That was a big help though. Having made that decision, to improve my life, I was frustrated but helpless to do anything about it. When the cases finally tapered off, I was exhausted and tempted to just go straight home from work and rest. Then I remembered my promise to myself.

Pulling up my private calendar on my phone, I saw the munch for that evening at the coffeehouse. This event was designed for the kink-interested to spend some time with those of us in the lifestyle in a casual, non-play environment. Since we did not actually close down the place to other customers, the conversation would be less detailed than it might be at the club, but it was a tiptoe into our world.

Members of Chained often attended as part of our community outreach, a volunteerism I had not participated in, in far too long. Unlike an evening at the club, it began and ended relatively early, which also worked for me tonight.

I still needed a shower, after my day in the office, but if memory served, I could get something to eat at the munch. Hopefully a sandwich, but at worst a tasty pastry of some kind.

After parking the car, I leaned by head back and breathed. Maybe I should just go home and take it easy. As a wiped-out doctor, what kind of representative of the daddy/little community would I be? But no. I’d made enough excuses, and nothing said I had to stay a long time. I’d go in, have one of the delicious specialty lattes and something to eat, visit with the nice people, and leave in an hour or so. Having kept my promise to myself. Or at least making a start. I climbed out of the car and started for the coffeehouse.

The windows glowed, and laughter of those inside carried out into night. Compared to a day where people described the coughs and aches lingering from their bout of flu, it already looked like paradise. Maybe I’d stay longer than an hour and enjoy good conversation. Wondering if any of my daddy friends would be there, I quickened my walk only to halt, one foot raised and about to land on a piece of fabric next to a car. I hopped to the side and bent down to scoop it up for a closer look.

Moving closer to the lights around the building, I was glad I hadn’t stomped a big old footprint on the sweet yellow blanket I held. Satin binding around the edges, the adorable duckie embroidered in the middle, and the soft weave told me it was a baby blanket. The location and timing made it likely it belonged to someone at the event. Oh, it could have been dropped by another customer, but since it was nearly eight o’clock at night, and the daddy/little crowd from Chained were enthusiastic supporters of the munch, my guess was some little would be very upset to get home without their blankie. Especially since a binky, a pacifier, was attached by the handy holder on the corner.

Whoever it belonged to, it was fortunately intact, not stepped on or marked by tire tracks from having been run over, and I carried it inside with me, stuffing it discreetly in my jacket pocket. The place was nearly full, lots of talking and laughing, and I was instantly warmed and energized by being in the company of my people.

“Barrister, this way!” I followed the voice to find Bridger and his little Hudson at a table with several other people. “So nice to see you here.”

“Nice to be here.” I looked around for an empty chair. “What a great crowd.”

“Biggest turnout in months.” Bridger patted his little on the back. “I give Hudson a lot of the credit. He’s been involved in promoting it, and it’s working.”

“Lots of people are helping.” But Hudson beamed at his daddy. “I like to help.”

“Yes, you do.” He tugged his little to sit on his lap. “Sit here, Barrister, and tell us what you’ve been up to.”

“Well, to start with”—I reached into my pocket and pulled out a corner of the blankie, the part with the pacie attached—“I found this in the parking lot. Look familiar?”

Bridger shook his head. “Belong to anyone you can think of, Hudson?”

“No, I don’t think so. Want me to ask around? Sure looks like something one of us might love.”

“Discreetly, my love.” Bridger stood him on his feet, and I handed him the blanket. He folded it into a square and set off into the crowd. “Hudson knows everyone. He’ll find the owner if they’re here.”

“Hope so. I’d hate a little to get home without it and be heartbroken.” Sure, it was an object, but littles often had an item or two that were very dear to their hearts, and this one was just worn enough to show it was loved.

Bridger picked up his crocheting. I rarely saw him without it, unless he was actively playing in the little room. His patterns were famous, his artistry featured in magazines and videos. The others at our table were chatting among themselves, a couple of other members of Chained entertaining the guests for the moment. “So, what’s new in your life, Doc? Any special littles?”

“No.” If only. “Busy at work.”

“I’ll bet that flu outbreak I read about in the papers has kept you hopping. Did you have to bring in the cavalry?”

“Stan wanted to come in, but the germs were so thick—and no matter how strong he is, I did not want him to catch it on my watch. So he handled video appointments. I don’t know what I’d have done without him.”

Our conversation paused for a moment while I placed my order for an orange chocolate latte and a grilled brie and tomato on their house-baked sourdough. The server headed off to turn in the order and Bridger went on. “That’s quite the love story, isn’t it? Him and Rand? Shows it’s never too late for dreams to come true.”

“Gives a daddy hope.” I tried not to sigh, but Bridger was not letting it go by.

“You’re here, and that’s a start. Work is great, and yours is so important. But if you don’t give yourself anything, you’re going to run dry and not be any good to anyone.”

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