Page 20 of Milk For His Little

We decided to do the packing and relocating ourselves to save money. In retrospect, maybe not the smartest idea because Kasper had so much stuff. Most of everything was packed, and as we’d rented a van and I was the driver, there were no burly men checking their watches while Kasper told his toys they’d be okay in a box and he'd see them soon.

But then he opened the box and retrieved his favorite teddy and bunny.

“You have to be good.”

He wasn’t being Little, not really. I couldn’t cope with the packaging, moving, unpacking, and a Little. But he was genuinely concerned about his toys getting dirty, scared, and/or claustrophobic.

I was tempted to point out they’d be in more danger out of the box, but he was already stressing about his stuff, wringing his hands and freaking out when he mislaid a picture book.

Instead, I inserted the two toys in large ziplock bags and congratulated past-me on bringing those from home.

Kasper sniffed under his arms. “Ewww. I’m going to say goodbye to these clothes tonight.”

“Ready to load?”

“I… I guess.” His voice wavered, and I hugged him.

Moving from a place that contained happy memories was bittersweet. But we were beginning our life together, and I hoped once we’d unpacked, we’d make more happy memories.

Lugging boxes and heaving them into the back of the truck was a thankless task but each box in the vehicle got us one step closer to a new phase of our lives.

A quick check of the rooms making sure we hadn’t forgotten anything and Kasper thanked his former home for keeping him safe.

We’d be back tomorrow to clean before handing over the keys to the landlord in the evening.

“I don’t want to unpack. Can we do it another day?” He yawned and placed a hand on my thigh.

“Let’s do as much as we can this afternoon.” We were already filthy and tired, so we may as well plow through. “If we wake up every morning to piles of boxes and you can’t find anything to wear, we’ll regret not unpacking today.”

“I suppose so.” Kasper tilted his head to the side, and I noted the streaks of dirt on his cheeks. Moving was a filthy business.

I made piles of sandwiches, and we placed clothes in the closet I’d cleared out. Toiletries went into the bathroom, books on the shelves, dry goods in the pantry, and utensils in the kitchen. He’s done a good job of whittling down his stuff before we packed, but there was still so much.

“Are we done yet?” Kasper lay on the bedroom carpet, curled in a ball and with his eyes closed.

“Yeah.” We’d made huge inroads, and what we hadn’t unpacked went into the spare room.

“You’re not going to cook, are you?” Kasper soaped himself.

This was our first shower in our home, but we were too exhausted for sex or fondling. We hadn’t even kissed, just washed the grime from the nooks and crannies on our bodies and put on robes.

“Nah.”

We ordered and lay on the couch watching TV while we ate.

The doorbell rang, and Kasper lifted his head. “Did you order dessert?”

I hadn’t and hoped the surprise would make him forget we only had ice cream in the fridge.

“Why don’t you answer it?” I stayed where I was and checked the phone.

“I don’t want to.” Kasper didn’t move. “Are we expecting someone?” He didn’t bound toward the door as he had when the food arrived, and his eyes were wary.

“It’s all right. I know who it is and they have someone they want you to meet.”

His brow furrowed. “A neighbor?”

I got up and took his hand, leading him to the door. “It’s a surprise. A good one.”

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