my mom. She wasn’t necessarily nosy, but she’d always had a way of finding anything we wanted to
keep hidden from her. It was a gift or a curse, I wasn’t sure which.
“We’ve talked about this, Sam.”
Uh-oh. Daddy was getting grumpy. I didn’t like it as much when he called me Sam. That meant
grown up talks were coming. He let go of me and sat up against the headboard. As much as I loved
cuddling with him, I felt uneasy when he pulled me onto his lap and tightened his arms around my
waist.
“But I don’t want to lie to them, Daddy,” I whined. Yes, it made perfect sense to explain away the
presence of kids’ dinnerware and toys as being there for when his family came to visit, but it still felt
wrong to me. I didn’t want my family seeingmythings, even if they wouldn’t know who it actually
belonged to. “You don’t know my mom. She’s like a bloodhound sniffing out secrets and ways to
embarrass her kids. She doesn’t mean to, but it happens. A lot.”
“Then you need to trust me to keep you safe.” I did. God help me, but I really did because Daddy
would never let anyone hurt me. He let out a loud sigh. “Well, since someone decided we should get
up early, let’s get dressed and I’ll make breakfast.”
“I didn’t mean to wake you up.” Now I felt bad. I was vaguely aware of Daddy tucking me in last
night but then he didn’t get into the bed with me. He’d mentioned something about cleaning up so we
could snuggle this morning. And then I’d wrecked his plans with my spinny brain.
“I know you didn’t, baby boy.” He kissed the side of my head. “It’s going to be a good weekend.”
I sure hoped he was right. Daddy quickly got me changed into a pair of my big boy undies, jeans,
and a super soft sweater. I’d balked when he’d given it to me, certain it was too feminine. It was
possible I was still a little bit hung up on binary gender norms, but he was slowly easing me into
being more comfortable with who I was, regardless of stereotypes.
While Daddy made breakfast, I pulled out my laptop. Mav probably wouldn’t be up yet, but I
wanted to keep my promise to check in with him every few days. Plus, I could vent all my anxiety to
him, and he wouldn’t tell me I was overthinking everything. Not that Daddy had said those words, but
I could tell he was frustrated with me.
Sammy1995: My parents are going to be here soon. Daddy says I shouldn’t be worried, but I
am. What if they don’t like him? What if I slip up and call him Daddy while they’re here? They’re
going to be upset that I’m staying with him instead of at my apartment. I just know it.
