Page 2 of A Little Spilled Milk

“Good. He deserves that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me he bothered you?”

“I don’t know. I guess I thought it was a drinking thing so it wasn’t that big of a deal, and besides… It’s not like you’re my Daddy.” Nor would he want to be.

“No, I’m no Daddy, but I am your friend.” We’d met at college, and unlike me, he got a really great job right afterward, whereas I was still making shit money. “You need a Daddy.”

“I’ll just go buy one at the Daddy store.” I unclicked my seatbelt. I didn’t want to piss off the man I was getting my milk from. It was my first time purchasing from him, and if I was too muchof a pain by being late, he’d choose someone else to sell to next time.

“It’s not like you go out of your way to have a Daddy, either. You know, there are nights where you can go be Little and meet them.”

“I know. But I really am busy.” And the last few times I put myself out there, it didn’t go well.

“You’re busy because you’re earning money so you can get milk, when maybe you could find a Daddy. You could do both.”

If it was as easy as that, I’d have already done it. But when Joel got like this, he would continue to find “solutions” for me as a way of helping. I didn’t have time for that.

“I’m hanging up now. I’m going to be late for my pickup.”

“Fine. Hang up. But thanks for telling me.”

“Yeah. You’re my friend, and I should’ve told you from the beginning.” I glanced at the phone. Three minutes.

“What are you going to do after the milk pickup?”

“I was going to go home. Put on some of my Little clothes. Climb into bed with my milk and my manga.” It was the perfect end to the day, if you asked me.

“You know, the manga doesn’t really go with being Little.” I opened the car door so he could hear the binging and stop chatting already. He was the worst to get off the line. I didn’t mind most of the time, but I had someplace to be in two minutes.

“That’s fine. It makes me happy.”

“At the end of the day, isn’t that all that matters?”

“Yeah. I guess it kind of does.”

We got off the phone, and I went up to apartment 4C, where the man I was connected with on the app had my frozen milk ready for me, packed nicely in a cooler. I handed him the money that I’d been squirreling away all month, and not once did I feel bad about it.

He was providing something I couldn’t, and he deserved it.

I just needed to get a better job.

Or maybe… Maybe Joel was right. Maybe I needed a Daddy… a lactating Daddy—one who could give me what I wanted straight from the tap, and in return, I could be the bestest boy in the whole wide world.

An image of my sexy new neighbor flashed through my mind. What were the odds of a sexy Daddy who lactated, was single, preferred or at least was open to men, and thought I was adorable moving into the house next door? Not very good. That was for sure.

2

EMORY

Yawning and stretching, I pushed my chair back, thankful the day was at an end. I turned off the computer, placed my planner in the drawer, the pens and highlighters in a mug that said, “I’m your Daddy,” and tucked the chair under the desk.

Satisfied the room was tidy, I cleaned the keyboard and monitor screen and vacuumed the floor. With the trash in one hand, I turned off the light and closed the door. That part of my day was over.

I took the elevator and placed the garbage in the dumpster. I’d hoped to meet my next-door neighbor. He usually got home about this time, but there was only one person in the elevator lobby and that was Mrs. Jenkins who lived on the floor below me.

She waved, and I returned her greeting, saying I was getting exercise by taking the stairs. A silly excuse because I pounded the pavement every morning before dawn.

But my neighbor sometimes took the stairs in the morning when he was late for work and at night if the elevator was crowded.We lived on the third floor, so it wasn’t as if we had to stagger up twenty flights. I wouldn’t have let him, though, because I would have told him it was too much and he had to wait for the elevator.

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